Black Rain
Jettie Woodruff
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive are a figment of my imagination and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind's eye and are not to be interpreted as real.
All rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Jettie Woodruff
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty One
Twenty Two
Twenty Three
Twenty Four
Twenty Five
Twenty Six
Twenty Seven
Twenty Eight
Twenty Nine
Thirty
Thirty One
One
The lights shined like mirrors on the wet road ahead. My eyes shifted from Pea, sound asleep in the back seat. Her head was to the side and her cheek slept on Larry the monkey. Moving my eyes back to the blinding headlights straight ahead, I looked to the white line on the right for guidance. The cars weren’t bad; it was these damn semi-trucks that blinded me. Colorful lights danced off the dark, wet pavement as the truck neared.
This route wasn’t the most traveled, but I guess that was the point, and I wasn’t about to screw it up. I’d come too far to get caught now. The pursuit of happiness, my God given constitutional right. That’s where I was headed. We were going to be happy if it was the last thing I did. To new beginnings, to new chapters, and to the rest of our happy lives.
“Okay, sweetie. Come on,” I said, lifting Pea from her seat for the last night. At least this hotel was nicer than the one we’d stayed in the night before. Trying to hold onto a sleeping four year old, a duffle bag and use the key card, I managed to get through the door and drop Pea to the one queen sized bed. Geesh, she was getting heavy.
“I have to go pee,” she said, sliding off the edge. I turned on the light for her and looked around the small room. Not bad.
“Are you hungry?”
“I want a fruit rollup.”
“Where would you like for me to get that from? I have Cheetos.” Fruit rollups? Really? And why would that even come to her four year old mind? I didn’t even buy those things.
“Ms. Bartley will give me one when I go back to the reading circle,” she assured me, kicking her feet while she grunted and did more than peed. I cleaned out the tub and started water for her while she smelled up the entire room. Not just the bathroom; the entire hotel room. Damn. What did she eat? The comment about getting the treat at her reading group was ignored and brushed under the rug.
Sitting on the bed, I counted out the last of my cash. Ninety one dollars and some change. That should get us to our destination. Just the word ‘destination’ scared and excited me. I really did this and there was no turning back now. I was either the intrepid hero or the meek criminal. I guess it depends on who you ask.
I opened the door and stood out on the walkway and breathed fresh air. It felt good to be in open spaces. I’m sure that had a lot to do with being stuck in a cracker box car with a four year old for the past three days. One can only endure so many knock, knock jokes before going insane. I was getting close.
Listening to Pea mess up the words to the song she was singing, I smiled. Sometimes that girl was too smart for her own good. Pea didn’t come in like a wrecking ball. She sang in tune with Miley Cyrus, but she came in like beach ball. That kid…I tell ya.
“Are you almost done in there, Britney Spears?” I called, searching for the last juice box. Where was it? There had to be one more? “Did you take the last juice box out of your backpack?”
“Is it bad?”
I stopped looking and dropped the bag, knowing she did. “It’s not bad if you ask first.”
“I forgot.”
“You did not. You knew I would tell you no. Where’s the trash?”
“On the floor.”
Pea slid back and forth in the tub, front to back, kicking her feet for force. “Of course it is,” I quietly said to myself. “Here’re your pajamas; get out.”
“Why do hotels have little baby bathtubs?”
I squeezed toothpaste to her brush and thought about it first. Explaining to her that her perception was based off the silver spoon she’d been born with didn’t seem like the right answer. How do you tell a four year old that she was the minority, that most kids her age didn’t have the luxuries that she was used to? Like extravagant tubs for little girls.
“Maybe so you don’t use too much water. Come on,” I coaxed, pulling the plug. It was nearly ten at night and I wanted a shower.
Once I had Pea comfortably in her last pair of clean pajamas, propped with pillows and cartoons, I went to shower myself. I was exhausted.
“I don’t want water,” she complained when I sat the cup on the stand beside her.
“What do you want me to do? You drank all the juice boxes.”
“I’m not going to drink it,” she assured me.
Fine. Don’t drink it. Dry swallow Cheetos… I don’t care. I didn’t care by that point. I was too tired to care whether or not she choked down dry chips because she wanted to be obstinate.
Hot, steamy water felt amazing on my sore body for all of two minutes. My theory on why the hotel tubs were so small wasn’t so ridiculous after all. Because of Pea’s tub of hot water, I had the remnants of half-hot water. It started out hot, quickly became warm, and became ice cold at an alarming rate. That was the quickest shower I’d ever taken in my life, not to mention, my clothes were thrown on in record time too. Brrrr.
“I’m freezing. Warm me up,” I begged with chattering teeth. Pea giggled when I attacked her warm little body. And then—
Nothing. Silence.
“Mikki?” she questioned after a long, defining stretch of stillness.
“What, baby?” I asked, brushing the hair from her forehead, softly kissing her warm skin.
“Is my daddy going to find us?”
Damn.
Shit.
Hell.
I knew it was coming, but I was at least hoping to get there and get settled in first.
“Honey, daddy isn’t going to be able to come here for a while. Remember how I told you he had to go away for a little bit?”
“Because he had to go to jail?”
“Yeah, baby.” What the hell was I supposed to say? How did you get a four year old to understand that it might be a while before she saw her daddy again? How did you explain a while? “Hey, let’s play a game,” I offered.
“We played too many games in the car.”
That we did…
“No this game will last forever and ever. Since we’re going to have a new life let’s have new names too. We can even pretend to be sisters. Okay?”
“Okay, but I want you to be my mom, not my sister.”
I squeezed her a little tighter. The thought actually crossed my mind, but I didn’t want to confuse her any more than she was. I could only hope that the saying about kids being resilient was true. I would do anything in the world to protect this little girl. Anything.
“I love that idea.
Now let’s pick a pretty name for you. Anything you want,” I said, knowing I had to pick the name. There was only one she could use, but I was still going to let her pick it, to a point that is.
“Okay. Penelope, Jane, Lucy, Mary, or Bill,” I offered with a few choices, adding the boy name for the giggle.
Pea giggled and pointed out the fact that she couldn’t have a boy name because she was a girl. And then…
“Penelope,” she decided without thought.
“Penelope?” I questioned. YES!!! Well that was easy.
“Yeah, like from Ms. Bartley’s.”
“You mean the bunny?” Thank you Ms. Bartley for having a soft white bunny named Penelope.
“Yes. Maybe I can get a bunny too.”
“Maybe you can, Penelope,” I teased with rigid fingers to her ribs. She screamed and writhed beneath my torturing hands.
I held on to Penelope a little harder again that night. Just like the past three nights, I wondered if I’d done the right thing for her. I would survive no matter what happened. It was her I was worried about. I vowed to do everything in my power to make this little girl happy and keep her safe. I was convinced that my true purpose on earth was this child, sleeping right here in my arms, and I loved her so much.
***
Waking first, I coaxed Penelope out of bed. “Come on, sleepy head. Let’s get a move on.” For a second I thought maybe her arm had been amputated in her sleep. How the hell did she sleep like that? “Let’s go, Penelope,” I called, curious of the reaction to the new name.
She smiled and opened her sleepy eyes. “I’m hungry… Mom.”
“You’re always hungry. Get dressed, it’s a beautiful sunny day and we have a very scenic day ahead of us.”
“What’s a scenic day?”
“Scenic. We’re going to see some beautiful scenery, starting with big fluffy pancakes right across the road. Put these on,” I said, tossing a pair of red shorts and white tank to her head.
“What else?” she asked, sliding off the bed and into the small bathroom.
I explained what I hoped we would see while listening to the stream hit the bowl of water. Geesh, where did she keep that all night? “We’re going to see mountain peaks, rushing rivers, serene lakes, and expansive vistas.”
“What’s expensive visas? We need a credit card?”
“No, silly. Expansive vistas. It means beautiful views. We’re going to drive through the Boise National Forest.”
“Well, let’s go see it,” Penelope smartly said, cocking her little hip while pulling on her shorts. I hoped I didn’t just paint a picture I wasn’t going to be able to live up to. The photos of the forest looked amazing.
Adding a couple more hours to our trip proved my picture painting lived up to both our expectations. I don’t know about Pea, but the sights I witnessed were royal. I slowed my rush to get where we were going when we crossed the scenic byway. Majestic trees, bigger than I’d ever seen in my life, surrounded us.
“Look at all the pretty flowers,” I pointed out the window to a field blanketed in awash of color.
“Can we pick them?”
“Hmm, we better not. Let’s wait until we get to our new house. I bet we can find some flowers to pick every day,” I closed my eyes briefly and sucked in fresh country air. People who say they don’t notice a difference in the air when they leave New York are crazy. The air here was refreshing, clean, and rejuvenating. Exactly what I needed. The sun, spilling through the window in the roof, warmed my face, and I felt the revolution taking place. This was going to be great for us. It had to be.
Adding another two hours onto the already four-hour drive toward our final destination was worth it. Pea and I got out of the car numerous times to take in the beauty. I wish I had a phone or a camera. It didn’t matter. I engraved her happy smile in my heart.
Pea couldn’t believe how crystal clear the brook was, how magnificent the trees were, or how the tops of the mountains were covered in snow. She didn’t understand how we could see the snow but were in shorts. I did my best, trying to explain the higher altitude and the distance. Looking across the landscape you would never think the peaks were miles and miles away. And we did pick flowers. Beautiful blue, red, yellow, and even a turquoise-bluish flower that I had never seen before. Almost the color of Pea’s eyes. Amazing.
By the time we finally arrived at our journey's end, Pea was tired of riding and had started whining. She had to pee. She was thirsty. Her butt hurt. She had a tummy ache. Her legs needed to stretch. She was hungry.
“Arriving at destination on right,” the robotic voice announced. Music to my ears.
“Listen. Did you hear that?” I asked, unable to hide my smile. The huge, ridiculous smile. I deserved it. Almost four days and twenty four hundred miles with Pea deserved a hell of a lot more than a smile. I deserved a drink. Given the legal age to buy it, I may have done that very thing.
Wait! I was old enough. My smile widened when I remembered that Jenna was twenty fours year old and could buy anything she wanted… and I was Jenna.
I wasn’t sure how Pea was going to seem around other people. I knew her well enough to know to let it come natural. She was horrible at acting. She couldn’t play a part to save her ass. If she called me Mikki, I was just going to blow it off with some little subject changer. If she called me mom, I was going to be shocked.
Walking to her side of the car, I decided not to coach her. “Okay, let’s go get the keys to our new house,” I giddily said, lifting her from her seat.
I worried about nothing, Pea didn’t call me anything, she was too busy checking out the array of tropical fish. The glass tank was round and she circled it, going around and around while I took care of the paperwork.
“There you are Ms. Bradford. All set,” the nice middle aged lady said, happily handing over the keys. Phew. My heart slowed a bit when I felt we were in the clear. Nobody was looking for us. Not here. Not in Clear Valley, Idaho.
I half listened while Mrs. Williams described the different species of tropical fish to Pea. Kids were kidnapped every day without being found. Would news travel all the way to this little town? It wasn’t big enough to call it a whole town. The same fearful questions flooded my mind once again and I worried. I couldn’t lose her. I wouldn’t.
“Okay, come on, Pea. We have a lot to do today. Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”
“You’re welcome. You give us a call if you need anything, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you very much.”
My heart pounded in my chest, turning down the dirt road. We were really doing this. I was really doing this. Stop! Just stop, Mikki. Crap! Jenna. Jenna Bradford. Jenna Bradford. Jenna Bradford. I couldn’t screw up. My acting skills had to be perfect. I wasn’t getting another take.
“Are we going to live here?” Pea asked, perking up when we neared the house. I peered at her from the rearview mirror when I turned down the long flat drive. That was nice. Pea would be able to ride her bike clear down the lane, the bike she didn’t have yet. Her posture stiffened and her eyes lit up. Phew… She was happy.
“Yup, this is our new house. What do you think?”
“I like it. Look, there’s water over there,” she pointed in the distance.
“That’s Lake Bayberry. There are over five hundred trails around here and two hundred and fifty lakes,” I guess that didn’t really mean much to a four year old.
“Hey, look at that funny bird,” she exclaimed.
After placing the car in park, I turned to her, “Here we are. Home sweet home.”
With a snarled nose, Pea asked, “That’s it?”
Oh no…
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s little for house.”
“What do we need a big house for? We’re always together anyway, right?”
“Hmm, yeah. Can I unlock the door?” Pea asked, taking the keys from my hand. I breathed in the breathtaking views and clean air. Apprehension filled my l
ungs with the refreshing air. Three more deep breaths calmed my nerves a bit. We were fine. Nobody was looking for us here.
“Where’s all the stuff?” Pea asked, “It stinks in here.”
“We have to clean it and we’re going shopping tomorrow, remember? I told you that on the way here. You wanted Frozen in your room,” I reminded her, opening the windows. What the hell color was this room? Who painted a living room apple green?
“Where’s my bathroom?”
Nodding to the only bathroom at the end of the hall, I watched her expression, “In there.” She wasn’t impressed, but I couldn’t say that I blamed her. I was fine with it, I’d lived in worse. She hadn’t. Pea was used to being pampered with gifts and lavish things that she didn’t need.
“Is this my room?” she asked, opening the first door on the right.
“You can pick whichever one you want. This one faces Lake Bayberry and the other one faces the flatlands and the mountain peaks.”
“I can see mountain peaks in both windows. I like this house,” she smiled and my heart relaxed, “I’ll take this room because I like the walls.”
That made me happy. “Good idea.” I hated the powder blue walls. I think the previous renters were gypsies. Wow.
“Where are we going to sleep?”
“On our blankets. We’ll get furniture after we clean.”
“Okay.”
That was it. It was that simple. Spoiled little rich kid London Jane Coast was happy with a simple house on a simple piece of property. Now if we could just keep our identities concealed we would be home free. I went to the bathroom closet and reached my arm above the door where I was instructed to look, and pulled out the envelope. Wow. That should do it.
Two
I didn’t realize what I was doing until the bottom of my forearm was covered in ink. Drawings of life colored my arm. I touched the half heart with the jagged edges, remembering its vital part in molding me into who I was.
It’s funny how I never seemed to dwell on the first thirteen years of my life. The happy ones. It’s the ones after that which plagued my mind. My eyes shifted to Pea, curled into a tiny ball on the floor. I picked up the pen and shadowed in the serrated heart while my mind remembered the necklace.