Jobeth and Shawna tracked up the dirt road, exhausted from a long day’s travel. Sweaty and covered with dust, they stopped to rest, collapsing at the side of the powdery brown road.
Breathing heavily, Jobeth wiped her grimy brow and glanced at Shawna. The wee child lay on her back with her eyes closed, her chest rising evenly up and down. A small hand rested on her sooty forehead. Color had quickly come to Shawna’s pale cheeks during the four weeks they had been on the run. Traveling had transformed the little girl into a healthy five year old.
Jobeth sighed with contentment. She was not regretting her decision to take Shawna with her. From the moment she had decided that the little girl was to be her responsibility, the child had become dearer and dearer to her. In the month they had traveled together, Jobeth came to realize that she needed Shawna as much as Shawna needed her.
Time wandering in the wilderness had faded the bruises that blackened Jobeth’s body; but the bruises that surrounded her heart were still painful and tender to the touch. If she had not been responsible for Shawna, she would have given up a long time ago. When she was too exhausted to walk any farther, Shawna would look at her with such hope and admiration that Jobeth would rather die than disillusion her young charge. So she trudged on, dragging both weary feet forward, always wondering where they would sleep that night.
Since they had escaped from Father James and Mother Tomalina, the girls slept in barns and fields--any place that was warm and dry. Miraculously, the second week out on the road to freedom, Jobeth stopped soiling herself at night. Although she still had the nightmares of her parent’s death, they were not as frequent as they had been at the home of the Johnston’s.
Jobeth lay down beside Shawna and looked up into the blue sky. There was not a cloud to be seen and it amazed her again how quickly the sunny day could turn dark and cold. The weather was changing; winter was just around the corner and they would need permanent shelter from the elements during the days when the earth would be covered with snow.
Once she thought she had found a place to stay for the winter.
It was their third week traveling and they had come across a small shack that seemed to be abandoned. There was a small wood stove that could keep them warm through the cold days and nights ahead. It had seemed perfect for their immediate needs.
Jobeth happily roasted a rabbit that was caught earlier that morning in a snare she made. Shawna sat by her feet cleaning some wild onions and the remainder of their carrots. Jobeth was telling Shawna another story about her family, how her Pappy taught her how to make traps and how to live off the land Shawna listened wide-eyed, envious of Jobeth because she had known her parents, whereas Shawna had not. Jobeth seemed to have endless stories about her rugged frontier father and the woman he fell in love with.
She was listening intently to Jobeth’s tales when the door of the shack crashed open—both girls jumped up with a start.
“Hey yah brats. Git outta ma house!” bellowed a burly bearded man dressed from head to toe in furs.
Both girls leapt to their feet and clung to each other.
The rabbit, forgotten, fell into the fire. Spitting juicy fat, it began to burn.
Shawna whimpered, hiding behind Jobeth’s skirt. Shaken by the sight of the first person she had seen since running away, Jobeth nearly lost her legs. Bile rose in her throat and she prayed she would not vomit.
“I says, git!” the fur-clad man roared, barreling toward them.
Startled into action, Jobeth grabbed Shawna and their bag of meager belongings and quickly swung them around the man and out the door.
The man grunted and bent to remove the burning rabbit from the stove. He ripped off a side of meat from the tender carcass and popped the flesh into his mouth, smiling.
He was hungry and the meat tasted good.
Jobeth continued to run with Shawna clinging to her tightly. She ran until her lungs screamed out in pain and the weight of the small child’s arms around her neck began to feel like a noose slowing her down. Finally Jobeth stopped and placed the sobbing girl down.
Unable to control the churning of her belly, Jobeth turned from Shawna and let go of the yellow acidic contents of her stomach. She continued to dry heave, her insides contracting painfully, and wondered again how they would go on. Drops of sweat beaded on Jobeth’s forehead, and she absently wiped them away with a shaking hand. The world wavered before her. Dropping painfully to her knees, she closed her eyes, willing the dizziness and nausea to go away.
Hiccupping, Shawna crawled on all fours up beside Jobeth.
“Was, he going to kill us?”
“No, no one will ever hurt us again.” Jobeth struggled to whisper and began to vomit the foul-tasting bile again.
Jobeth breathed deeply of the autumn air, clearing her mind briefly. It had been over a week since they encountered the fur-clad man. The problem of where they would stay for winter was still unanswered.
“Come on, Shawna. We best be on our way. We need to find a place to sleep tonight,” Jobeth said.
Shawna had fallen into a light sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, yawning.
Without a word of complaint, she stood up and dusted herself off. She sensed Jobeth was panicking, but did not say a word. Shawna had never been happier in her life. Jobeth showered love upon the lonely child, a love she had only experienced once before--with her sister, Donna. But even Donna’s love was shadowed by the coldness that enveloped the house of Mother Tomalina and Father James. To remember Donna was to remember how her sister died and the ugliness that shadowed their lives.
So now she followed Jobeth, trusting and faithful. Now that she had experienced love and felt its healing power, Shawna could not live without it.
They walked for what seemed like an hour when they saw a barn and a house up ahead. Most of the windows were broken and the place looked ready to fall down upon itself.
“This looks like home for the night.” Jobeth sighed, exhausted. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep an eternity of sleep. She had never felt so tired in her life.
Slowly, they dragged their battered bodies up the rotten stairs in front of the house. Brown grass sprang through a hole in one of the steps, enticing an unsuspecting foot to break through. Jobeth grabbed Shawna under her arm to prevent her from going through the decayed step.
“It’s scary.” Shawna spoke softly as Jobeth opened the door. It let out a painful thin squeal. She hesitantly put a foot forward, taking Shawna with her. The floor groaned in protest. Walking through the bitterly cold house, stale air assaulted their nostrils. Huge dark walls loomed before them, dwarfing the two girls.
“It’s not eerie, Shawna. Why, look at these rooms! This was probably once a beautiful, rich home,” Jobeth said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. The truth was if the old dwelling had once been beautiful, it was a very long time ago. Shawna gulped and held fast to Jobeth’s hand.
“I guess you’re right.” The tiny voice said hoarsely, her eyes wide with only a hint of the haunted girl in them.
“Of course I’m right.” Jobeth said, trying to convince herself as she walked forward.
They crept all over the house looking into spider-webbed rooms with broken floors and corners filled with mouse droppings. Finally, Jobeth opened the door to a small room that was fairly clean compared to the rest of the house. There were five dirty straw mattresses littering the floor.
“This is home for the night.” Jobeth said, crawling onto the largest one.
Shawna mouth clamped tight, looked behind her shoulder at the darkness beyond and quickly jumped in beside Jobeth.
They cuddled close together.
The mattress was soft and comfortable compared to the
sleeping arrangements to which they had grown accustomed.
Exhausted, Jobeth closed her eyes and tried not to think about the soft down bed she once slept in, in another life. It was best to erase the memory of her mother tucking bright, clean quilts around her--quilts she
helped make.
“Sweet dreams, Jobeth,” her mother’s soft voice would say as she blew out the lamp. “And remember, God is always watching over you. He is always there to protect you.”
Jobeth would nod drowsily, feeling happy and content. She had no reason to disbelieve her mama. Life was filled with happiness and love. And life had always been that way.
She sniffed. A single tear squeezed out from her closed eye.
Where is God now, Mama? Jobeth screamed in her head. Why isn’t He protecting me anymore?
Angry voices woke Jobeth from a deep, dreamless sleep. She fought to awake from the darkness that had swallowed her. Shawna was already awake and clinging to Jobeth for dear life. Her fingers dug into Jobeth’s arm like tiny needles, forcing her to come back from the darkness of her mind.
“It’s all right, Shawna,” Jobeth put her arm around the trembling little girl.
She was shaky and disoriented herself. Looking up toward the noise to see what or whom they were about to face, she felt fear. It had been so long since Jobeth had been in contact with people other than Shawna. They had avoided contact, as much as possible, with other people they saw on the road, hiding in bushes until it was safe. People hurt people, and they could hurt her and Shawna. A heavy feeling pressed down firmly on her chest. People could do worse: they could take Shawna from her, leaving her alone once more.
That was something Jobeth would not let happen. No one would take Shawna from her.
She looked up toward the screaming noises with hooded eyes, prepared to defend herself and her charge.
Crowded around the mattress, like soldiers at a siege, stood six yelling boys and one shrieking girl.
“They ain’t got no right in ma house!” caterwauled the girl with jet black, curly hair that frizzed out wildly around her face. Her eyes were like black rubies and seemed to be alive with fire. Her tattered brown dress fit her curvy shape snugly; her breasts heaved angrily, about to pop out of the extremely low-cut neck line.
“Now Tamara, this just ain’t the way to act.” The boy receiving her fury fumed. He was an odd-looking boy who looked like he was about sixteen or seventeen years of age. He had sandy brown hair and a round, flat face with green cat-like eyes. He stood uncomfortably, gangly with his newly developed height, and stared back at the black-haired beauty.
Jobeth felt numb. She wondered if she should grab Shawna and run. She felt so tired--she did not think she could outrun the group surrounding them.
Another boy, with hair just as dark as the girl’s, noticed that the two terrified strangers were awake. Jobeth caught sight of him from the corner of her eyes and flinched back, holding Shawna protectively in her arms. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, ready to beat out onto the dirty floor at any moment.
“Hello,” he said kindly, his deep blue eyes penetrating through Jobeth. Her breath escaped her for a moment. The boy was the most handsome person she had ever seen. Before she had time to compose herself, everyone else in the room was circling her and Shawna with questioning faces.
“My name is Oliver,” he said, eyes twinkling. “And the two you just heard fighting over there are Tamara and Alan.” Oliver offered his scruffy hand slowly to Jobeth in a friendly manner.
Shawna smiled hesitantly at Jobeth. She could not help herself. Oliver had already won her over with his handsome good looks and his charming smile. Jobeth twisted her lips as she watched the admiration in Shawna’s blushing face and was suddenly angry. Jumping up, she pulled Shawna with her. It didn’t matter how tired she was, she was not staying any longer in this house.
Shawna frowned, confused by Jobeth’s hostility, and hid behind Jobeth’s legs.
Jobeth immediately felt guilty and her anger slipped away as quickly as it had come. She cleared her throat and tried to decide whether to say something.
“I am Jobeth and this is…” she pulled Shawna in front of her, almost defiantly, and glanced at the one called Tamara. At first she thought the black-haired girl was older than she was. But with a closer look, they seemed to be about the same age. “this is Shawna.”
Tamara glared back with distaste. Shaken by the fiery female in front of her, Jobeth straightened her back.
“We’ve been traveling for weeks,” she continued, looking around the room for a reaction. Everyone was quiet and seemed to be listening with interest, with the exception of Tamara, who had turned her back to them all. Her long black hair hung like a jungle of vines to her petite waist. Jobeth had never seen such hair before. She found it quite striking, even if she was taken aback by
Tamara’s apparent resentment of her.
“We thought the house was empty. We only planned to stay the night and leave in the morning.” Jobeth finished.
She looked down on Shawna’s platinum head trying hard not to think of the situation they were in. Her eyes stung with fatigue and the fight in her was quickly escaping.
“Well, yah see it ain’t empty,” Tamara hollered, turning around quickly, her hair flying madly about her. The boy, Alan, nudged her with his elbow, glaring at Tamara angrily. She looked back at him with as much venom.
Jobeth and Shawna both jumped at Tamara’s outburst. Straightening her shoulders again, she looked directly at Tamara, whose chest was still heaving angrily. Jobeth felt like crying. She was so tired and felt so sick. Her limbs felt like dead weights hanging helplessly from her shoulders. She simply did not have the energy to battle this stranger.
Her mouth began to water and Jobeth fought back the urge to gag.
“I am terribly sorry if we have caused anyone any inconvenience. We’ll just be on our way.” Jobeth grasped Shawna’s hand and plunged forward, dragging her out of the tension-filled room. Her throat tightened and her eyes began to burn with tears. Every muscle in her body cried out for rest. She was defeated. It was late and too cold to sleep outside.
“Now just hold on there, Jobeth,” a male voice interrupted. She stopped in her tracks. Saliva pooled in the inside of her mouth behind her bottom lip, but she didn’t dare to do a thing about it. The voice sounded like the odd-looking boy with the round face who had just argued with Tamara.
What is his name?
“Yes?” Jobeth asked. Her back still faced the voice. She squeezed Shawna’s hand hard feeling her wince in pain.
Alan stared at the straight, thin back of the peculiar girl as she clutched tightly to the ghostly white child. His chest tightened at her stubborn refusal to turn and face him. He looked to Oliver, questioning him with a raised right eyebrow. Oliver nodded his head, giving Alan the answer he wanted.
“Yah two are welcome to stay here.” Alan spoke quickly before the spooked girl ran out of the house with her little waif in tow.
Jobeth closed her mouth and held her breath. She really did not want to stay, but she was so tired and --something she didn’t want to admit--she was lonely.
The last person she had spoken to who was her own age was Judith. Judith was Jobeth’s best friend before her parents accident. She cried with Jobeth after her parents were killed. She also wept, her red pig-tailed head buried into Jobeth’s shoulder, before Jobeth was sent to live with her new foster parents.
“I will never forget you, Jobeth,” Judith had pledged the day Jobeth left.
They had clung together, two friends never to see each other again, their lives headed in opposite directions.
Jobeth pulled away from Judith’s freckled, wet face and climbed into the wagon. Her belongings were packed neatly in a small chest in the back, secured with thick ropes.
“I will never forget you either, Judith,” Jobeth promised as the horses pulled away from the sobbing girl. She waved frantically at Judith, but her friend, overcome with grief, ran away, her hands covering her face, unable to bear seeing her friend leave.
She hadn’t thought of Judith since she entered the doors of the Johnston home. And she did not want to think of her now.
Judith would be appalled to see what had become
of Jobeth’s life. Suddenly Nick came to mind. The boy Jobeth had spoken with at Mother Tomalina and Father James’. He was tough and scarred from battles fought too young in life, but full of life and laughter regardless. Judith would have wrinkled her brown spotted nose at Nick. But Jobeth had rather liked him. She then thought of the ragged lot behind her. They were like Nick. She looked down at her thin, faded dress. She had given Shawna her tattered sweater to keep her warm. It hung down to Shawna’s knees, causing her to look lost in the stretched garment, but it at least kept the chill out, if only a little. Jobeth fingered the material of her dress. She would freeze with nothing but its flimsy cover.
Judith would not be caught dead in a rag dress like the one Jobeth wore.
She was like Nick now. She was like the people behind her: tough and scarred, ragged on the inside and out.
No, I am still different, she thought. I am mostly dead inside. Only the darkness of dreamless sleep soothes my soul.
“There ain’t no place for yah to go and we don’t mind the extra company at all. Plus, that there little one don’t look like she can go nowheres but bed.”
Alan’s voice cut into Jobeth’s thoughts. He knew Jobeth was seriously weighing his offer. He refrained from mentioning that she looked as though she would drop in her own shoes at any moment.
Finally, turning to the voice speaking to her, Jobeth surveyed Alan. He had strong, green, cat-like eyes. A strand of hair bobbed up and down on his forehead, giving Jobeth the feeling that Alan was a boy fighting in a man’s body. She looked away, blushing, feeling she had seen something private and personal about him. The other boys in the room were all smiling at her, trying to make her feel welcomed. Her eyes came to rest and widened on a child’s face that sat oddly on a young man’s body. He flashed Jobeth a wonderful, bright smile. She could not help staring, speechless. The boy’s skin was a deep, rich chocolate brown. Embarrassed by her rudeness, she turned her gaze quickly to the handsome raven-haired Oliver.
“Stay, Jobeth. We’d all like you to stay.” Oliver walked over toward the hesitant girl and placed a warm hand on her bony shoulder. Jobeth instinctively pulled back, repulsed, but then relaxed as Oliver gently coaxed them back into the room by taking Shawna’s small hand. Unable to help themselves, they both followed Oliver shyly.
Alan stood alone and held his breath. Anger began to burn in his chest. Oliver’s smooth talking had again worked its magic. Jobeth glanced back over her shoulder at Alan, who looked lost and awkward. His heart pounded heavily in his ribcage. This new girl was different. He could tell she wasn’t like them, even though she looked like it. She had come from better--a flower hidden in the weeds. He smiled awkwardly and blushed because it felt silly and forced.
Jobeth grinned weakly back and turned away. Alan lowered his head, feeling like a fool.
“Humph,” Tamara smirked, moving to stand beside Alan. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to
compose himself. Tamara stood righteously with her arms tensely crossed over her large breasts. Her exposed cleavage bulged in Alan’s face.
“What now, Tamara?” Alan steamed, looking away from her chest and back to Jobeth, who sat quietly listening to Oliver.
“Seems Oliver found a new toy to play with, don’t it, Alan?” she asked, nastily pursing her red lips together. She cackled, noticing Alan’s red face and walked over to the other side of the room where Jonah, the black boy who had shocked Jobeth, sat. Tamara plunked down beside Jonah as graceful as a lump of clay and continued to smirk at Alan. His attention veered from Tamara, tired of her obnoxious ways, and went back to watching the new girl.
Jobeth was putting Shawna back down on the mattress they had been sleeping on. Oliver was talking a mile a minute and Alan could not help noticing Jobeth shyly smiling back. His heart pounded painfully again. Absently, he reached up and rubbed at the pulsing muscle beneath his chest. His fingers moved up and down in rhythm to his heart. His fingers tingled warmly with the motion.
Jobeth was the most unusual girl he had ever seen.
Chapter 5 —