Marguerite coughed and the tears began to stream down her face. “Pray with me, Ima. I don’t want to live forever in the devil’s dominion here and then share in his punishment. I want to go home some day and be reunited with my beautiful baby girl.”
*~*~*~*
As the Lieberman family gathered around Marguerite’s bed, she tried to show a brave face, smiling at the sombre gathering until her father figure delivered the grave news.
“We need to get you out of this state, Marguerite,” Mr Lieberman exclaimed. “It’s not safe for you here. Soon your father will come after you and the authorities may be with him.”
Marguerite’s expression fell, while a fearful tone etched itself across her face, weighing the old man’s words. “But I don’t want to leave you!” she defended.
Ima took Marguerite’s hand. “Next time, your father may succeed in killing you.”
Mr Lieberman continued forcefully, “This is what we have decided. Tom and Majiv will take you across the country in Tom’s wagon, where he knows people who will protect you.”
Marguerite glanced from face to face around the room. “But you are my family...”
Majiv kneeled beside the objecting girl and took Marguerite’s hand. “Under the circumstances, there is no romantic way to say this, but I want to take you as my wife and we can do that legally where we are going.”
Shocked by Majiv’s confession, Marguerite’s guilty countenance fell. “You would take a tainted and battered woman as your wife? Look at me!”
Majiv sighed and squeezed her hand. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”
Interrupting the young couple and disturbing the intimate emotions, Mr Lieberman whispered grimly, “We have to get you out of the state urgently, even tonight, Marguerite. Your father will be here soon enough, but don’t be concerned. Majiv and Tom will protect you and make a bed for you in Tom’s wagon, driving you to safety... but we must hurry.”
A heavy burden of elation and sorrow washed over Katarzyna and Majiv, realising for the first time in their lives, brother and sister would be separated. However, the preparations to move Marguerite continued swiftly and with great care until they were ready to leave.
“I love you, Majiv. Take good care of my sister,” Katarzyna hugged her brother, knowing their lives would be different from here on and silently tried to convey a lifetime of emotion in one embrace.
As Majiv released his sister, Ima placed her arms around him and prayed a blessing over the couple. “Majiv, my son, you must know something,” Ima whispered solemnly. “Marguerite’s womb has been seriously damaged by the abortion and she may not be able to give you children, yet the wounds of a woman go very deep when she is violated in this way. The physical damage is a constant reminder, but she will be scarred in her mind, too. You need always to remember this and how precious she is,” Ima hugged him again.
“Thank you, Ima. I will remember,” Majiv responded.
“I’ll pray every day that Father will allow a child of your own to bless you and Marguerite.”
As the station wagon pulled away from the apartment and Marguerite lay on a bed in the rear of the car with their belongings packed around her, Majiv sat next to Tom as he drove the couple away. Behind the moving wagon, three people waved frantically from the kerb, leaving Majiv torn. He was waving goodbye to his parents and sister, but he knew deep in his heart his future was with Marguerite. Checking his watch, Majiv could see the tiny hands indicating midnight’s cry and suddenly realised he and Marguerite were repeating his parent’s beginnings... hounded by the same but different enemy.
The street was deserted and deathly still as the wagon slowly turned the corner and drove out of sight.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 51
Becky pushed the door open to the spare room and glanced at Brett’s computer standing silent on his desk and draped in a plastic cover. It hadn’t received much attention since he had taken his new job, with most of his work now done in his office at the newspaper and in direct contact with people rather than on a computer screen. Becky pulled the cover off the screen and placed it on a chair by the wall, pushed the power button, but nothing happened. Following the power cord, she could see the end lying on the floor, assuming Brett had disconnected it. She sighed, then put her hand on her stomach.
“Sorry, little one,” she whispered and dropped to the floor on her knees, with a groan. Crawling under the desk, she found the end of the lead and plugged it into the power and switched it on.
Unamused and with a disapproving barrage of kicks finely orchestrated in a chorus of protest, the baby was uncomfortable and was letting her know. What are you doing, Mum?
Panting heavily and trying to regain her breath, Becky flopped into Brett’s office chair, her face red from the exertion. In control and settling at the desk, Becky manoeuvred once more, attaining a favourable position; but baby had gotten a rough ride, giving a final kick and sending a clear message not to do that again. Becky placed her hand tenderly over her bump. “Mummy gets the message, little one.”
She pushed the power button again and this time the computer whirred into life, then gently, Becky wheeled the office chair as close to the desk as she could, but the baby was so big now that she felt like she was sitting at arm’s length from the keyboard. With her little pink baby blanket neatly folded on the edge of the desk, Becky glanced at it hopefully and once the password had been typed in, the computer allowed her access. Eventually dancing through the computer hoops and locating her search engine, she typed Landon County Institute for the Blind and pushed the enter button. A few seconds went by and a catalogue of results displayed, prompting Becky to scroll down the list. There was everything from curtains and drape manufacturers in Landon County to holidays and accommodation in the region’s most beautiful city, but nothing came up... Landon County Institute for the Blind didn’t seem to exist.
After a futile half hour search, Becky gave up. It appeared that Landon County didn’t have a facility that employed and trained blind people, let alone manufacturing beautiful needlework and baby blankets like the one folded neatly on Brett’s desk. Dismayed by the lack of information, Becky shut down the computer and sighed heavily. It was obvious wherever Katie was, it wasn’t in Landon County. Carefully replacing the plastic cover back over the machine and deciding not to risk Baby's ire by diving under the desk, Becky waddled into the kitchen carrying the baby blanket. Rubbing her face in the soft material and then playing with the tag, she studied the faded fine needlework and the message she supposed was intended for her to find. Where are you, Katie, and what are you trying to tell me? she pleaded with the little blanket.
A sudden thought teased her mind. I wonder whether Mum knows about the tag and the baby blanket. In a moment of decision, she walked over to the phone and dialled Emma’s number and after a pause, Emma’s bubbly voice greeted her in response.
“Hi, Mum, it’s Becky... no, everything’s okay... I was just wondering about something in the box of baby things you sent over... well, do you know that pink baby blanket?... yeah, it’s my favourite, too... do you know where that came from?... That’s what I thought. So I was wrapped in it when you and Dad brought me home from hospital?”
Becky lingered as Emma described the process of picking her up from the hospital, but no more light could be shed on the baby blanket. For the moment, Becky decided not to tell Emma about the message on the tag, but felt deflated as she put the phone down, seemingly drawing blanks and coming to dead ends, just like Smiley said she would. Becky decided to put the blanket aside for the moment and concentrate on her housework, and by the time she’d finished her chores, it was mid afternoon and she was feeling raw and fatigued. Waddling into the bedroom and gently lowering herself to the mattress, Becky tried not to disturb Baby and as if mother and child had the same intention, Becky’s eyes closed, drifting off into an exhausted slumber.
Waking with a start and panicking when a familiar
voice called from the lounge room, Becky’s sleepy eyes struggled to focus as she stole an anxious glance at the clock, realising it had already turned 5:30 pm and Brett was home. “Oh no, I must have fallen asleep and I haven’t put the dinner on!”
Hurrying to rise and among the confusion, Becky could hear other voices conversing with Brett. Quickly straightening her appearance and unprepared for company, she made an awkward sleepy entry. “Smiley! Jacqui!” Becky announced with delight. But when she turned to her husband, Becky flushed with embarrassment and tried to explain. “I’m sorry, Brett. I fell asleep and I haven’t started dinner.”
Brett grinned and held up a large bag of takeaway, saving the day. Relieved and not feeling sparky enough to cook for four people, Becky pressed into his embrace and kissed him with gratitude.
“You surely didn’t plan this, Brett?” Becky gazed adoringly at her man.
“No, but I think the soon-to-be newlyweds want to discuss something with you, so I invited them over for some improvised dinner. It was a spur of the moment thing.”
“I hope you don’t mind us crashing your dinner, Becky,” Jacqui apologised.
Becky wrapped Jacqui in a hug. “Of course not, a-n-d I just happen to have something to tell you.”
Smiley and Jacqui glanced at each other. “I think we’ve already guessed that one, Becky,” Smiley had that teasing older brother look on his face, causing Becky to tilt her head in confusion, leaving both her and Jacqui wondering what was coming. “We already know you’re pregnant and that’s not a watermelon under your shirt.”
By the time the laughter died down, Jacqui and Becky were preparing to dish out the meal when Jacqui noticed the pink baby blanket neatly folded on the counter where Becky had left it.
“Wow, isn’t this little blanket absolutely beautiful?!” Jacqui exclaimed.
“Well, yeah, it is. And there’s something of a story behind it, too,” Becky explained.
Jacqui stared at Becky, intrigued, with her eyes asking many questions.
“I’ll explain after dinner and once we’ve discussed your news first.”
The meal passed in the usual frivolities whenever Smiley was present. Becky was feeling much more alert and alive after the improvised meal and the laughter with their best friends. When Becky excitedly accepted Jacqui’s invitation to be her matron of honour, the small group erupted in loud festive talk and laughter, before retiring to the lounge while Becky prepared the coffee, placing the pot and cups on a small nearby coffee table. Returning to the kitchen, Becky picked up the baby blanket then headed for the spare room to track down the magnifying glass once again.
“Do you need a hand, honey?” Brett called after her.
“No!” she called back. “I’ll only be a moment,” Becky’s voice drifted out of the spare room. Locating the magnifier, she then rejoined the others back in the lounge room. With an expression of curiosity settling over the group, Becky handed the baby blanket and the magnifier to Smiley and with an amused look, Smiley peered at Becky.
“What’s this about?” Smiley asked, knowing Becky had something to share.
“Take a look at the stitching,” Becky urged, and for the first time in a long while, she had Smiley guessing.
Smiley glanced at Becky as if she had eaten too much takeaway. “Yeah, the stitching is indeed magnificent and the blanket is beautiful,” Smiley puzzled, realising Becky had a reason to show him this. “Okay, Becky, I give up. What’s the deal?” Smiley admitted defeat.
“Take a close look at the tag,” Becky prompted.
Smiley focused in on the tag and read out the needlework. “Especially made for you by the skilful hands of the blind. I still don’t get it, Becky.”
"Turn over the tag, Smiley, and read the inscription on the other side. It’s a bit hard to read, but you can just make it out.”
Smiley squinted and pulled faces trying to read the tiny needlework, then once he had deciphered its meaning, his face took on a faraway look. “Wow, Becky! How did you find this?” Smiley bubbled.
“What does it say?” Brett and Jacqui questioned in unison.
“I can’t make out the second last word but it says, "To our little miracle Rebecca love... Katie!”
The silence inside the room was deafening as each person pondered the meaning of the blanket’s message.
Becky eventually broke the silence. “I thought there may have been a blind institute in Landon County that might lead us to Katie and so I spent a lot of time on the internet searching, however, I came up empty. It appears Landon County doesn’t have a facility for the blind or a place that teaches fine needlework like this.”
Smiley could see the excitement and the deflated demeanour struggling for pre-eminence on Becky’s attractive features. “This could be one huge coincidence, Becky, or you may have stumbled onto a major clue in the search for your birth mother.”
Smiley’s animated snoop instincts had shifted to high alert.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 52
Smiley tossed and turned into the early hours of the morning, unable to get Becky’s discovery out of his thoughts and shut down the niggling silent cry that someone somewhere was trying to reach out and make a valid connection. The inscription on the tag of the little blanket seemed to be too much of a coincidence for Smiley’s suspicious mind and maybe this Katie that haunted Becky’s nightmares was actually trying to warn her and not destroy her mind as Brett had suspected.
But what was she trying to say, if anything at all and what did the tag actually mean? Was this inscription indeed aimed at Becky, or maybe it was a plea from someone who knew something of Becky’s beginnings, giving just enough information to entice a curious trail leading to the author of the needlework? To Smiley’s way of thinking, she appeared to be hiding her own identity, but giving just enough away to make Becky search for her. But what would make someone go to all this trouble? What situation would dictate that the needleworker go to such lengths to remain anonymous, but give a clear signal to someone like Becky searching for answers? The questions were coming thick and fast, prompting the frustration to climb and causing snoop Smiley’s tail to wag with the scent of a mystery.
Turning harshly and bouncing on the mattress, Smiley faced the clock, reading the digits with sleep-deprived eyes and realising it was still a number of hours before he was officially expected at work. Unable to bear the questions any longer, Smiley threw off the blankets in an effort for answers and decided the paper and his office would be the best place to start. Smiley flung his legs over the bed and immediately, his feet tangled in a pile of dirty clothes, tripping him up and sending him hurtling across the room. Jacqui had bought him a basket for his used laundry, attempting to force a change in tradition and having to acquaint himself with her way of thinking when it came to housework. Throwing the clothes at the lid in an attempt to comply, the unhelpful bundle bounced off the wall, hit the side of the basket and fell lethargically back onto the floor. In a hurry, Smiley sighed, tempted to leave them where they lay, but then Jacqui’s cute face came into his mind and he obeyed her perceived direction to pick them up.
“Yes, ma'am!” he answered, as if she was there.
The early morning horizon, painted with a dusty orange hue and punctuated by shimmering street lights, slowly gave way to the shadows of a new day creeping across the sleeping city. Smiley paused on the second floor landing, peering across at the sunrise with the taste of discovery on his tongue. Maybe he would find something in Becky’s riddle that she had missed. He pulled the apartment door closed and heard the deadbolt driven home with a thunk, denying access to everyone without his key, then quickly made his way to his car and started toward the newspaper building. The streets were ominously quiet, but in a matter of time the peak hour chaos would dispel any sense of peacefulness.
Smiley pushed the main door to the newspaper open and was immediately accosted by the nightshift supervisor.
“What are you up to, Smiley? W
ork doesn’t start for you for another two and a half hours.”
Smiley pushed past the rotund nightshift boss and called back over his shoulder, “Research, Milky.”
Milky had been given his nickname by his crew. The rotund man consumed copious amounts of milk during lunch break, leaving a telltale white moustache decorating his face and a disrespectful junior coining the phrase, Milky. When the lunchroom had recovered from hysterics, the name stuck, yet after many years no one could remember his real name. Milky had been with the newspaper for decades.
The library was in darkness as Smiley pushed open the heavy glass door. He flicked on the lights to reveal row upon row of shelving and newspaper editions for each day of every week, of every month, of every year since the paper had started ninety years ago. This room was a testament to its own history. Finding a private cubicle supported by a computer, Smiley switched on its power and waited for it to come to life. Peering back at the entry door, he noticed the coffee machine steaming away. It had just been serviced by the night cleaner and for the first time since his arrival at the paper, his would be the first cup off the rank. He stood and made his way to the coffee machine and finding a clean cup, he filled it with a brew and added two sugars. Then, with the assistance of the coffee, turbo charged snoop kicked in to pry mode.
Smiley logged onto the newspaper search engine and punched in Institute for the Blind Landon County, but after an hour of fruitless searching, Smiley came to the same conclusion Becky had. However, something bothered him about the search and he felt like a gold miner digging in the wrong spot. He could feel that the gold was there, but he had to change his method of mining. A thought flashed into his mind and he punched in a new search: Vision Impaired Society of Landon County. Seconds passed and then the computer spat up a list of possibilities. Smiley scrolled through the list, discounting each until he came to a blog titled, History of The Vision Impaired Society Landon County 1948 to 1973. Smiley clicked open the blog and checked out its about page, reading the acknowledgements and noting, Betty Gavin had been registrar of the Landon County Vision Impaired Society from 1960 to its closure in 1973.