Sisters in the Wind(93)

Devery shouted, “I’ve done things for you, you ungrateful bitch.”

Three months after having a baby, my body wasn’t back to full strength. Still, I could outrun Devery and Mister and Missus.

The sun was setting. I needed to get deep into the woods and find somewhere safe to hide until daylight. I ran a variety of trails, taking random turns whenever the path forked, until I reached a large marshy pond coming to life with night sounds. A frog croaked on a nearby rock, joining a chorus from the many rock clusters dotting the water.

One of the trails must’ve been wide enough for vehicles. I saw the headlight beams before hearing the engine. I scurried to hide before the truck reached the end of the byway.

First I added my watch to the plastic bag with my phone and the rice. Next, I slid a handful of bulrushes like a quiver of arrows on my back beneath my T-shirt. I tucked the shirt into my underpants before taking off my jeans. Zeroing in on a haphazard pile of rocks, I waded out to it. I wedged my backpack between the rocks; my books and clothes needed to stay dry. Then I swam toward the middle of the pond.

Alligator-like, I tracked the headlights and listened with the rest of my body underwater. Once they parked, I took one of the bulrush stems and submerged completely.

I’d read a story years before about a boy who evaded capture by using hollow-stem plants to breathe underwater. But he’d selected hemlock, which was poisonous. He accidentally chewed on the toxic stem and had an open sore in his mouth. He became confused, had a seizure, and drowned.

My breathing straw was bulrush, a water plant that also had a hollow stem but was edible. As long as you are mindful of the seed pods, which can explode.

I was just beneath the surface and could hear when the Hoppys called out for me.

“If you’re near the pond and can hear me,” Missus shouted, “please come back.”

Mister shouted too, explaining that they both cared for me and that we could work through any misunderstandings. If I hadn’t been so intent on staying alive, I’d have been tempted to emerge enough to shout back: Like you did with Tonya? And Christina? And Mona Hix?

I bided my time. It was mid-June. The water was cold but not frigid. I’d have dry clothing to change into once they left. In the morning, I could make my way to a house and pay for a ride into Lansing or Grand Rapids.

Missus always had a shorter fuse than Mister. I pictured her brushing stray blond hairs from her face with hands that now wanted to throttle me. Her fa?ade of concern was like a fake accent that she couldn’t maintain.

When the fury she fought to suppress ignited and spread like wildfire, I sank farther until I couldn’t hear her yelling anymore. My bulrush stem filled with water.

I thanked my dad for teaching me to swim, dive, and hold my breath. And I thanked my birth mother for showing me how to disappear without a trace.





RETURN TO SENDER


JUNE 2009

Jamie arrives at the apartment, battered from too many punches. He’s had a rough day working on my case.

“Can I speak with you, Lucy?”

I straighten in my chair. Something’s wrong. I can tell by his stiff movements. Normally he glides along as if wearing a pair of invisible ice skates.

“Should we wait for Daunis?” I say. She had an interview scheduled with one of my regular customers. Harley. It was supposed to take an hour but that was two hours ago.

“We can. It’s up to you.”

The tension on his face says he doesn’t want to tell me something, but he must. As my attorney, he’s obligated to do so.

“Just say it.” It’s as if I’ve absorbed all the body blows that he tried to take for me.

“Michigan has different arson laws depending on the severity of the incident, either to people or to property.”

“Yeah, you went over the different degrees. First degree is the most serious felony for a fire or explosion that causes injury to a person or damages a large property. Second, third, and fourth degrees are for damages to property only, not people, but are still felonies. Fifth degree is a misdemeanor.”

“They’re offering a plea deal, Lucy. I’ll go over the specifics when Daunis arrives, but it’s basically for you to plead guilty to a lower-level felony, but accept the penalty amounts for the misdemeanor.”

“What are those?”

“Up to one year in prison and a fine. But being eighteen, you’d have a felony conviction that would follow you everywhere. I think it’s too early to be considering a plea deal. The prosecutor wants to avoid a trial. Sometimes that can mean it’s because the evidence wouldn’t hold up, but I’ve met him. He’s…”

Jamie rotates his shoulders as if to get rid of stiffness. He’s been cooped up all day, when we would have worked out twice today already.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s wait until Daunis comes back. Then we can worry and strategize.”

He smiles before stretching an arm back to grasp his foot. A standing quad stretch.

“Do you want to work out before dinner?” I offer. “I could really hit the rowing machine.”

“Sounds good,” he says.

Heading to my room to change, I halt two steps from my door.

“Jamie.”

He turns, still rigid with tension. It’s not the best time to tell him, but if I wait for the perfect time … well, there are no perfect moments. Just as there are no perfect people.