The Protective One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  And she thought she was going to faint when Mr. Zook looked as if he wanted her to take it off so he could admire her workmanship. That would have ruined everything. Her backpack was far heavier than it looked, thanks to all the money she had hidden in the lining.

  Luckily for her, another gentleman caught the men’s attention, and Frank took Alan over to introduce him. When they walked down the aisle left, she inhaled her first real breath of air in almost an hour. Knowing that she only had a few minutes before Alan would return, she tried to calm her nerves. It wasn’t the right time to leave. Not yet.

  When at last in the center of the arena the children were showing the calves that they’d been raising, Frank bid them goodbye and went down to the arena to be with his wife and their son.

  As each minute ticked by, Marta felt her apprehension rise, and she could practically feel Alan’s irritation emanate off of him. If he decided she was the reason for his problems, he could very well insist that they leave. Then her opportunity to escape would be gone.

  He’d looked so appalled that she was wearing a handmade backpack she could even imagine him taking it from her. If that happened? Well, she couldn’t bear to think about it.

  She jumped when the announcer spoke into the microphone, introducing the next boy and his calf.

  Alan noticed. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled tightly. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” He smiled back at her. Almost as if he were actually concerned about her comfort.

  Of course, they were both liars. She wasn’t fine at all, and he didn’t care. She actually felt like she was about to faint, she was so worried about getting away and finding help.

  All she could think about was what would happen if she never left. For months she’d been saving money and dreaming about the day when she would be brave enough to leave her husband.

  She’d felt like the Lord was finally giving her the perfect opportunity to break free. What if she never got another chance?

  Another child entered the ring. This one was a little girl with a white calf. Its fur was so white and silky Marta knew the girl had probably been up early to give it a bath.

  A pair of judges walked out, talking with the girl as they circled the calf.

  The calf let out a little moo as it yanked on its bridle.

  Marta tried to smile.

  Each second passed like an hour. Instead of watching anything, she silently prayed for strength.

  Another child entered the ring. As far as she could tell, Frank’s boy was next. Then what would they do? Would Alan want to leave?

  As the announcer started speaking over the loudspeaker, Alan leaned close to her ear. “Marta, I want you to leave us. He’s never going to talk to me about business if you’re here.”

  She looked at him, needing to make she wasn’t imagining things.

  He continued, “I’ll tell Frank that you decided to meet some friends or something.”

  “Yes, Alan. I understand.” Her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it. Though every muscle in her body was screaming for her to get up and leave fast, she forced herself to speak calmly. “Where would you like me to meet you?”

  “At the entrance.” Alan looked at his watch. “In an hour. If I’m not there, wait.” He glared at her. “Don’t make me wait on you.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour. I promise,” she lied.

  Just as she moved to get up, he pulled on the strap of her backpack. “Wait.”

  Her heart felt like it was in her throat. Was he going to make her leave her backpack with him?

  “Yes, Alan?”

  “Here.”

  Shock filled her as she realized he was handing her a twenty-dollar bill. “This should pay for a meal.”

  She got to her feet and carefully took the money from his hand. “Thank you, Alan. That is so nice of you.”

  “Can’t have you telling anyone that I let you wander around empty-handed.”

  She smiled at him. “Goodbye,” she said at last. Meaning every syllable of that word.

  Forcing herself to walk slowly down the bleachers. Not to trip. Not to make a scene.

  “Marta!”

  Trembling, she turned. “Yes?”

  He scowled at her. “Put that money away in your purse thingy. You might as well use it now. The moment we get home, I’m throwing it out.”

  Marta smiled tightly. “I will. I’ll put it to good use now.”

  Carefully, she descended the rest of the stairs, waited for a group of teenagers to get by, then headed toward the open doorway.

  The bright sunshine outside had never looked more welcoming.

  THIRTY−ONE

  “Anyway, back in the basement, we were all struggling with what to do about poor Marie. Andy tried to tease her about the night’s events. That didn’t go over real well, though. Katie and I tried to act like we knew what she was going through. We didn’t, though, of course.”

  One day shortly after Christmas, around the time Will was seven years old, his mother had been watching Andy, Marie, and Logan for a few hours. Marie had been lugging around a new doll that she’d gotten from Santa Claus and had forbid any of them to touch it.

  Now that he was older, Will couldn’t say he blamed her. But back then, he, Andy, and Logan had simply been a bunch of little boys. Fun for them involved playing in the dirt and running outside in the snow. Marie’s pleasure in playing with her doll was lost on him.

  If he was honest, he’d also thought that Marie had been acting mighty selfish. He couldn’t understand why she hadn’t even allowed his little sister, Nan, to have a turn with her new gift. From the moment Marie had been dropped off, Nan had been eyeing that baby doll like it was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. For some reason, he hadn’t liked that one bit.

  Because of that, when Marie fell asleep on a cot in his mother’s sewing room, he’d crept in and taken that doll. Feeling pretty good about himself, he’d marched right over to four-year-old Nan and handed it to her. He’d even lied and said that she could play with it for a couple of hours. After all, Marie wouldn’t be needing it while she was sleeping—and they all knew she took really long naps.

  Of course, just like so many “good” ideas that quickly backfired, the doll had gone from Nan’s hands to two-year-old Jake’s hands. Jake had been eating peanut butter and crackers and he coated the doll’s fancy purple dress with it good.

  Jake, bored with the thing, had tossed it on the ground. Andy and Logan picked it up, tossed it around like a football for a while, then decided to hide it.

  When Marie woke up and found the doll missing, chaos reigned. Marie cried and cried. Then Will’s mother got involved. Then Nan and Jake cried after it was discovered that they’d played with the doll. Finally, Logan and Andy were sent outside to dig up one very ratty-looking baby doll. After they handed it to Marie—who cried again—they got a stern talking-to by his mother.

  And he? Well, he had been told that he would get his lecture the minute everyone else went home for the night.

  His father had given him a good swat on his rear end, which had hurt, though not nearly as badly as his feelings when both his parents lectured him for a good thirty minutes.

  However the worst part had been his confusion. He’d told his mother that he didn’t understand why he always had to share his things and his home (and yes, even his mother) with all of his friends, but they didn’t have to share anything with him. He didn’t think it was fair at all.

  He’d thought it was a very good argument, indeed.

  His parents had not.

  “But Jesus didn’t promise that life would be fair, Will,” his father murmured. “You need to stop thinking that everything in your life should be.”

  Will hadn’t realized it at the time, but his father’s words had had an enormous impact on him. Through school and his hunt for work and even as he navigated his friendships, he forced himself to not expect too much or any rec
ognition. Instead, he’d perfected the art of getting along with others.

  Even through those dark days after Andy Warner’s death, Will kept his faith and didn’t ask why such a thing had happened. Instead he dwelled on the Lord’s will and gave thanks for His blessings.

  But now, as he walked by Elizabeth Anne’s side and caught sight of her quick smiles—and, yes, some men’s looks of appreciation sent her way—he realized that the Lord actually was fair, after all.

  Elizabeth Anne surely was his reward for sharing so much when he was little. Her company had to be the reason he’d learned to stop complaining and started being happy for other people. Today, he was the lucky man who got to be called hers.

  He knew he must have done something right to deserve that.

  Today her long hair was in a mess of complicated braids away from her face. It looked shiny and healthy, just like the rest of her did.

  And her heart. He was so proud of her for caring so much for everyone else. Even a visibly unhappy older woman who was her sewing student. Who else would care so much about the happiness of someone who was practically a stranger?

  “Now you seem to be the one who is lost in thought,” E.A. said as they sat down with Marie and John to eat some pulled pork sandwiches at a picnic table. “What have you been thinking about?”

  “Believe it or not, I was thinking back when Marie and I were seven or so.”

  Marie put down her sandwich. “Really?”

  “Jah. Do you remember that time you came over with your doll right after Christmas?”

  Marie half covered her face with a hand. “Oh, my word. Jewel!”

  E.A. grinned. “You named your doll Jewel?”

  “Oh, yes. I thought she was the prettiest thing that I’d ever seen.” Marie sighed. “Boy, I loved that doll.”

  “How come I don’t remember it?” John asked.

  Looking at her husband, Marie said, “You weren’t at the Kurtzes’ house the day I brought it over.” Sounding bemused, she continued, “I’m afraid I begged Santa Claus for that doll for months. The moment I opened her package on Christmas morning, I would hardly let Jewel leave my sight.”

  John looked bewildered. “Any particular reason you’ve been thinking about Marie and her baby doll while we’re at the county fair, Will?”

  Will felt his cheeks heat. Put that way, it did sound mighty strange. “It’s a convoluted reason, I guess. But I got to thinking about how much trouble I got in because I took that doll when Marie was asleep so Nan could play with it.”

  “I guess that was rude, but not that big of a deal,” E.A. said.

  “It wouldn’t have been, except that Jake got peanut butter all over it before Andy and Logan decided to hide it in the snow by the woodpile.”

  “And I started carrying on like she’d been stolen and ruined forever,” Marie admitted.

  “I’m sorry I missed that day,” John teased.

  “I’m not,” Marie said. “I’m very glad you don’t have that memory of me acting like such a spoiled little girl in your head.” Picking up her soda, she playfully glared at Will. “Thanks for bringing it up, Will.”

  “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Not wanting to bring up his father’s fairness lecture, he said, “I guess I was just thinking about how we’ve all known each other for a long time. And, here we all are.”

  E.A. smiled at him. “I think the same thing all the time. I don’t think we would trust each other or be as close if we hadn’t gone through so many things together. You can’t beat years of friendships.”

  “This is true.” Deciding to wait until they were alone to admit how he was thinking of her as his reward, Will stood up to throw away his trash. “So, it’s getting toward sundown. What does everyone want to do?”

  “Go on a couple of rides,” Marie said.

  “Which ones?” E.A. asked nervously. “I’m warning you now that I won’t go on anything that flips over.”

  “Me, neither,” John said. “Especially not after this meal.”

  “Oh, you all are a bunch of spoilsports,” Marie complained.

  “Just because I don’t have an iron stomach like you doesn’t mean I don’t like to have fun,” E.A. said. “I know—how about we start with the Ferris wheel?”

  Will thought it looked both rickety and boring. “Out of everything here, you want to go on the Ferris wheel?”

  “Come on,” John said. “It will be fun. The sun is going down and all the rides’ lights are coming on. We’ll be able to see everything.”

  “This is true.” Realizing that he’d also be sharing a seat with E.A. and that they’d be essentially alone, Will grinned. “I say yes.”

  “Thank you, Will.” E.A.’s eyes were warm and soft. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me, neither,” he said with a grin.

  “Marie?” John prodded. “Even if it isn’t the Tilt-A-Whirl, will you get on it with me?”

  She slipped her hand in his. “You know I’m not letting you go anywhere without me.”

  Eyes shining, E.A. said, “It’s official, then! A perfect way to end the evening.”

  As they started walking, Will thought he caught sight of David standing next to a food cart. He was watching them.

  He paused, wondering if he should go over and give David another talking-to, this one a whole lot less kind and a whole lot more threatening. But if he did that, he knew he would ruin E.A.’s good mood. Maybe even the rest of their night.

  There was a time and a place for everything. This wasn’t it.

  “Will, are you coming?” E.A. called out. She’d moved up and was talking with Marie and John.

  “Jah, sure,” he replied as he quickened his pace. “Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew.”

  “Did you?”

  After hurriedly throwing the can of soda he’d been drinking in the trash, he dropped an arm around E.A.’s shoulders and motioned her forward. “Nah. I was mistaken.”

  Now all he had to do was hope and pray that E.A. wouldn’t spy David for the rest of the night. If that happened, their good time might be ruined.

  He couldn’t think of anything worse.

  THIRTY−TWO

  “Logan said we should turn on the television. So, I did, and found some old Indiana Jones movie. Just when things started getting exciting, we noticed that John and Marie were completely ignoring the movie and whispering softly to each other. Marie, for the first time all night, looked happy.”

  She was free. Walking through the fairgrounds, Marta kept her head down and her pace quick. She’d had only the faintest of plans for seeking help. All that had mattered was getting away from Alan—she hadn’t thought beyond that.

  She’d contemplated going to the entrance of the fairgrounds and calling for an Uber to take her to the police station, but she didn’t want to spend the money or use her cell phone if she could help it. Alan could always call the phone company and demand to see its records.

  Instead, she’d decided that it would be best to find a police officer or a sheriff, tell him or her about her situation, and then beg to be taken to a shelter. But when she saw a deputy in a light tan uniform right outside the livestock pavilion, she passed him and kept walking. He was too close to where Alan was, and she wanted to be out of her husband’s direct sight.

  Because of that, or maybe because she was so nervous, she kept getting turned around. Then, when she was finally at the far side of the fairgrounds, she couldn’t find a single law enforcement official.

  Was she going to have to head back toward the livestock areas to find someone?

  Sweat began to trickle down the sides of her face and the back of her neck. As each minute passed, she began to doubt her chances to escape. Soon, Alan would be at the entrance and wondering where she was. His irritation would simmer into anger if she didn’t show up. And then what would he do?

  Marta closed her eyes. She knew the answer to that all too well.

  Feeling a little dizzy, she forced herself
to stand in the shade of a tent to calm down. Nothing had happened yet. Alan still thought she was fine. He wasn’t going to realize she was gone for at least another thirty minutes. She no longer had to fear him.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally located a policewoman near a pretzel stand. She was talking to a pair of teenagers but seemed nice enough.

  Marta’s heart started to pound with relief … and trepidation. It was time to finally do what she’d been planning for a year: share her story. But what if the woman didn’t believe her? Or what if she told her to simply go to the police station another time? Could she do that? She wasn’t sure. Did she actually have another escape attempt in her?

  No, she had to do this now, and make this woman understand that she needed help immediately.

  Feeling more confident, Marta waited her turn to speak with the officer, mentally rehearsing her speech all the while.

  But then the teens needed the officer to give them directions.

  Marta couldn’t help but glare at the teens. Didn’t they see other people needed help? Unable to control her fidgeting, she tapped one foot.

  The officer looked her way. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, but I can wait.”

  The woman’s expression turned puzzled. “Are you sure? Because this is going to take me a minute. Do you need directions, too?”

  “I don’t need directions. I can wait.” When one of the teens snickered at her response, Marta felt her cheeks heat. She’d sounded like a robot.

  Her hands fisted as she once again cautioned herself to calm down and stop fidgeting. Oh, this was not how she’d imagined things were going to go!

  Another two minutes passed. Then three. Every couple of seconds, one of the teenagers turned to stare at her while the officer pulled up directions on her phone.

  Marta felt sweat slide down the center of her back under her backpack. It was hot and dusty, but she knew it wasn’t the heat that was getting the best of her. It was this moment. Everything inside her felt exposed and vulnerable.

  Unbidden, a middle school science lesson came to mind—her teacher had been talking about animals’ instincts to either fight or flee. She’d never thought about herself as being reduced to something so basic, but it seemed she’d been wrong.