Inescapable (2 page)

I spent the next day packing
and explaining to Charity why we had to move. I tried to make it sound as if we were getting ready for a great adventure, but I could tell she wasn't completely buying it. I didn't want to worry her, but no matter how hard I fought to calm my fears, tears kept filling my eyes.

My grandmother's voice whispered inside me.
“There isn't anything too big for God, Lizzie girl. You gotta cast your cares on Him. He loves you so much.”

Yeah, right.
He loved me so much He gave me a father who did nothing but use terror and intimidation to control me—and a mother too timid to stand up for her only child. He allowed me to be threatened by some crazy person, and to top things off, He allowed me to lose my job and possibly face jail.
Save me from all this love, God.

My father would have called it sacrilegious, trying to talk one-on-one with God. Supposedly, God only listened to the church leaders in Kingdom. And He was certainly too busy to fool with a nobody like me.

Although Reba's accusation and threats felt even larger than my fear of the man in the red ball cap, the two combined to create a storm of anxiety. My mind couldn't seem to wrap itself around everything that was wrong in my life. If I tried to deal with one problem, another crisis waited behind it. It was too much for me. Too much for anyone.

That afternoon Meghan called to tell me that my final check plus two weeks' severance pay was waiting for me. With Charity in the backseat, I immediately drove over to Harbor House. Pulling an old knit hat on my head and hiding most of my face behind a wool scarf, I slipped in unnoticed. It was clear Meghan had pulled some strings to get the check cut so soon. After retrieving it from the woman who worked at the front desk, I snuck off like a prisoner escaping from her cell.

Before getting in my car, I stopped and took one long, last look at the big brick building that housed Harbor House. How was it possible for me to belong there one day and not belong the next? How could such a refuge of safety chew me up and spit me out like unwanted garbage?

My father's face kept drifting into my mind. His expression when he'd found out I was pregnant still haunted me. He never said a word, just stared at me with disappointment and contempt. The way I'd felt then echoed my emotions now. I was trash. Something to discard.

I finally climbed back behind the wheel of my car, checked on Charity, who was coloring in the backseat, and drove away. Thanks to my final check, I had enough money to pay all my bills and just enough left to get us to Kingdom. I had no intention of leaving a forwarding address or contacting anyone in Kansas City once we were safely out of town. Lizzie Engel would disappear completely. It was the only way Charity and I would finally be safe.

Though I knew it might be useless in Kingdom, I couldn't bring myself to part with my cell phone, so I planned to pay that bill two months in advance. The phone was my lifeline to the outside world, and the thought of cutting it off made me feel insecure.

After I paid all my bills, my biggest concern would be my car. The 1991 white Chevy Caprice had over one hundred and fifty thousand miles on it, and the engine light had been on for at least two months. Since I couldn't afford to put it in the shop, I'd simply ignored the warning. Sylvia had sold it to me for five hundred dollars not long after I started at Harbor House and allowed me to make payments whenever I could. It took me a year and a half to pay it off, so now I owned it free and clear. Remembering Sylvia's kindness made me weep. I missed her so much, but the staff had been told in no uncertain terms that she couldn't be disturbed. Her health was at stake. As much as I wanted to call her and tell her what was going on, I couldn't take the chance. Better for everyone that I just slip away.

On the way home, big white flakes began to drift down from the sky, and by the time we were three blocks from our apartment, the wind had picked up, and blowing snow made it a little difficult to see. Something about the weather made me feel nostalgic for snowy days in Kingdom when Mother would make a big pot of soup. I didn't have the ingredients for soup, but I suddenly wanted something special for dinner. Although I usually watched our money like a miser, a strange urge came over me. A feeling of reckless abandonment. What did it matter? Working hard and pinching pennies had gotten me nowhere. On a whim, I pulled into the drive-through of a local burger joint that made the best cheeseburgers in town. The last time I'd picked up any kind of fast food was last spring when I had the flu and couldn't cook.

“Oh, Mama,” Charity said breathlessly when she realized we were having cheeseburgers for dinner, “this is the best day of my whole life.”

I had to look away, pretending to read the menu. When Charity was little, too young to realize how tough life really is, she used to claim that almost every day was her favorite day. I hadn't heard her speak those words in quite some time. Hearing them again made me happy and sad all at the same time. By the time we got home, she was chattering nonstop, full of little-girl excitement.

In our apartment, we parked ourselves in front of the TV, scarfed down cheeseburgers, watched two different
Dora
DVDs, and then switched to
Sleeping Beauty
. I'd fallen in love with the story of the sleeping princess and sometimes played the animated movie at night after Charity went to bed. No one except Meghan knew I'd never seen a movie of any kind until after I left home at eighteen. And I'd only discovered
Sleeping Beauty
two years ago. For some reason, the tale of the beautiful princess Aurora, who slumbered as she waited to be rescued by her prince, touched something deep inside me. I never got tired of watching it.

At the same yard sale where we'd found all our DVDs, Charity had discovered a Sleeping Beauty doll that was still in its box and priced at ten dollars. Ten dollars might as well have been a thousand back then, and it almost broke my daughter's heart, as well as mine, when I had to say no. Charity had learned not to ask for things we couldn't afford, and when she begged for the doll, I realized how important it was to her. The woman hosting the sale noticed her obvious distress and got up out of her lawn chair.

“Please,” she said, “I'd like to give her the doll as my gift.”

When I objected, the woman explained that she'd purchased it as a surprise for her granddaughter's birthday. But the child had gotten upset and thrown the doll on the floor because she'd wanted a Barbie doll.

“The look on your daughter's face is the one I'd hoped to see on Stephanie's,” she'd said. “Please. I'd really like the doll go to a little girl who will appreciate it.” The second she put the doll in Charity's arms, it became her best friend. Now “The Princess,” as she called her, went everywhere she did. The doll, with long blond hair, a gold crown, and a beautiful pink dress, was like the third member of our ragtag little family. Charity couldn't go to sleep at night without The Princess beside her. It had been a real struggle to get her to leave the doll at home during the day when she went to school, but she finally agreed when I explained that The Princess would be safer in our apartment, where she wouldn't get wet, dirty, or stolen.

I left Charity watching the movie and quickly finished packing. Then I called Meghan and told her we were leaving in the morning. It was hard to say good-bye because, although I told her I'd keep in touch, I actually had no plan to do so. It was better to make a clean break. I couldn't risk having anyone trace a call or find out where I was. I'd already called Charity's school to tell them we were moving. They'd asked for a forwarding address. I'd told them I didn't have one yet but would be in contact so they could forward Charity's records. Another lie. I had no intention of phoning them. Charity could start the first grade again. It was better than putting her in a position where she might be taken away from me.

I was packing the last of our dishes in the kitchen when Charity called out, “Mama!
Sleeping Beauty
is all done.”

I walked out into the living room. “Why don't you get ready for bed, Cherry Bear? I'm going to run downstairs and get our mail. I'll lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone except me. You hear?”

“I hear you, Mama.”

I hurried out the door and into the hall. The mail could have waited until morning, but I wanted a few minutes alone to gather my thoughts. Leaving Kansas City was hard, and going back to Kingdom was even harder. I walked slowly down the stairs to our mailbox, trying to rein in my wounded emotions. Our box was just one in a long row of identical metal boxes with numbers etched on them. Most apartment buildings like ours had inside mailboxes. Leave it to me to find an apartment with mail delivered outside.

When I turned my key in the lock, I found several pieces of mail waiting for me. Flyers. All of them. Except for one. A light blue envelope with my name on it and no return address. Perfect. Another one. Just what I needed. I stuck the flyers back into the box and pulled out the blue envelope. As snowflakes blew chaotically around me and the wind cut through the thin material of my dress, I ripped it open.

I'm watching you. It's just a matter of time before I get you and your little girl. You'll never get away from me.

I jogged out to the curb, the icy wind pushing me back as if trying to stop me from what I was about to do. My body trembled from the cold, and I scolded myself for leaving my coat upstairs. Sure enough, there he was. Standing next to a small orange car with a smashed left front bumper. I held the note up in the air. “Why are you doing this?” I yelled. “What do you want? If you don't leave me alone, I'm going to call the police.” Hopefully, he didn't know how useless my warning actually was.

He looked surprised and took a step back.

“You'd better get it through your head, you jerk. No more!” I took a step off the curb, trying to look threatening, though I had no intention of getting close enough for him to grab me.

Before I had a chance to say anything else, I heard the squeal of tires, felt a big jolt, and everything went black.

“Lizzie, are you all right?”

A voice filtered through the fog. I slowly opened my eyes to see Doris, my landlady, standing over me. With her were several strangers, all of them staring at me with wide eyes and worried expressions. I struggled to sit up. What was I doing in the street?

“Maybe you should wait for the ambulance,” Doris said, trying to push me back down.

“No. I . . . I'm okay. What happened?”

Even as she started to explain that I'd been hit by a car, I remembered. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, running my hands over my arms and legs. The only pain I felt was in my left hip and the back of my head.

“I'm all right,” I insisted, feeling embarrassed to be the center of attention due to my sheer stupidity. I could hear Father's voice.
“I swear you don't have an ounce of sense in your head, Elizabeth Lynn.”
“R-really, I'm not hurt at all.”

“Are you sure, miss?” An older man knelt beside me, his face pale and his voice unsteady. “You ran out in front of me. I tried to stop but couldn't.”

“It's not your fault. I wasn't watching.” I struggled to my feet, feeling flushed by all the unwanted interest. “Please, I'm fine. I really am.”

“I still don't think you should get up until the ambulance arrives,” Doris said, frowning. “You could have internal injuries.”

“No. Just a bump on the head.” I glanced quickly across the street. The man with the red cap was gone.

In the distance, the sound of a siren began to grow louder. I glanced up at my apartment window. “Charity's alone. I need to get back. . . .”

“You stop worrying about that little girl of yours,” Doris said. “Wait here and let the paramedics look you over. I'll take care of Charity.” She looked over at her husband. “Charles, you stay here with Lizzie. If they decide she needs to go to the hospital, you come let me know.” She smiled reassuringly at me. “We'll keep Charity until you're released, honey.”

Go to the hospital?
A blanket of fear fell over me like a shroud. Although Harbor House carries insurance on all their full-time employees, it's not very good. A trip to the hospital could cost me a lot of money and create bills I had no way to pay. “No, I'm not going to the hospital. It's not necessary.”

Just then an ambulance pulled up, and two men in uniforms jumped out.

“Someone get hit by a car?” one of them asked.

“Right here,” a man said. “She's right here.”

“I'm okay,” I said to the first paramedic who reached me. “I was knocked down, but nothing's broken. No damage done.” I could feel beads of sweat form along my hairline. “Please,” I pleaded, “I've got to get back to my little girl.”

The other paramedic, who was very good-looking, said, “Why don't you just let us check you out? It won't take long. Better safe than sorry.”

“No thank you. Really.” I knew I sounded manic, but the idea of more bills terrified me. Was my insurance even in force? Would being fired for theft disqualify me from benefits? I couldn't risk finding out.

The first paramedic, who was a little older, folded his arms across his chest. “Ma'am, are you refusing treatment?”

I nodded quickly. “Yes, I'm refusing.” I glanced back and forth between the two men, who appeared irritated that I wouldn't allow them to toss me in the back of their ambulance and cart me off to the emergency room “So I can do that? Refuse, I mean?”

“Yes, of course you can. It's a free country.” The first guy looked at his partner. “Grab a release form.”

The younger paramedic jogged back to the ambulance, muttering something about wasting everyone's time.

“You really should let them look you over,” an elderly woman said harshly. “It's irresponsible to call an ambulance and then refuse treatment.”

“I-I didn't call the ambulance,” I said defensively. “My landlady must have called.”

The paramedic corrected me. “The person who called was a man. Dispatch said he was very upset.”

I swung my gaze around the quickly diminishing crowd that had gathered around me. No one took responsibility for coming to my aid. The attendant who'd fetched the form held it out in front of me, and I quickly signed it.

“Thank you. I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble.”

“Me too,” he said in a disgusted tone.

His partner reached out and patted my shoulder, concern written on his face. “If you have any problems with double vision, develop a bad headache, or experience any pain in your body that seems abnormal, you call us. We'll come back, okay?”

His kindness brought a degree of comfort to an extremely awkward situation. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” I turned from the small crowd still waiting to see my final outcome. The man who'd hit me hurried to his car and took off, probably grateful to get on his way without being further involved in my careless actions.

Pain shot through my hip as I hobbled to the mailboxes and grabbed the junk mail I'd left in my box. I looked briefly in the street for the note sent by the man in the red cap, but it was gone. Probably blown away in the cold wind that had gusted past me. Fine by me. I didn't want the hateful thing anyway.

I slowly entered the lobby of our apartment building. I usually took the stairs but decided this once to use the elevator. It seemed to move slower than molasses and had a strange smell. Like disinfectant. By the time I reached the fifth floor, the sickly sweet aroma had intensified my headache. I limped down the hallway and pushed open the door to my apartment. Charity was sitting on the couch with Doris beside her.

“So you're all right?” Doris asked with a frown. “They let you go?”

“Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for watching Charity.”

My daughter stared at me, her eyes big. “Are you okay, Mama? What took you so long?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been afraid she'd be frightened silly by the time I returned, but obviously, Doris hadn't told her I'd been hit by a car. “Just had to take care of something, Cherry Bear. Everything's fine.”

Doris stood up. She hesitated as if she wanted to say something else, but instead she told me to let her know if I needed anything else.

I went over and hugged her. “Thank you. Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate your kindness. I'll miss you.”

She hugged me back. “You two take care of yourselves. And let me know how you're getting along, okay?”

Once again I agreed to stay in touch without planning to ever honor my promise.
“Liars go to hell, Elizabeth. Do you want to spend eternity in hell?”

I got Charity into bed, trying to reassure her that everything was okay. It took a while, but she finally fell asleep. I took several aspirin, but my discomfort continued to intensify. I limped into the bathroom and looked at my hip. It was swollen and red. I knew from past experience it would turn purple quickly.
“Spare the rod, spoil the child. Those bruises will cleanse your soul.”
I raised my knee up and down several times. Pain shot through the inflamed area, but at least there was easy movement. Hoping nothing was broken, I stared at myself in the mirror and gingerly felt the knot on the back of my head. It was tender to the touch.

“How could you be so stupid?” I whispered to my reflection. “How could you possibly be such an idiot?”

“How could you be so stupid, Elizabeth? How could a daughter of mine be so ignorant?”

“I guess you were right, Father.” I said quietly to the girl with the sad, dark eyes who stared back at me. “Maybe you were right about everything.”

Even though my childhood had been wrapped up with pain and insecurity, I suddenly had the strangest longing for home. That was a first. Up to that moment I'd been glad to get away from Kingdom. Why was I thinking about it now? Of course, there wasn't much difference between being a screw-up in Kansas City or a screw-up in Kingdom. My mother's troubled eyes seemed to look back at me through my own. I'd never doubted she loved me, but she'd never stood up to my father. Never protected me from his wrath.

Without warning, another voice seemed to rise up from deep within me. A voice that didn't sound like my father.
Go home, Lizzie. Everything will be all right.

My eyes swam with tears. How could things ever be all right in Kingdom? I'd been an outcast. The girl who got pregnant out of wedlock. The fallen daughter of an elder in the Mennonite church. How could it have happened? In my mind I could see Clay Troyer's handsome face, his hazel eyes full of sincerity.
“It's okay, Lizzie. This is what people do who love each other. Trust me.”

It had felt so good to finally hear someone tell me they loved me that I'd given in. Just once. That was all it took. A moment that seemed to be over before I even knew what had happened. And then came the morning sickness. The bloated feeling. At first I'd thought it was the flu. But before long the truth was evident. Not long after Clay and his family learned I was pregnant, they left the area. No good-byes. No forwarding address. All that was left was Father's silence, Mother's sadness, and the looks of disapproval from church members. I couldn't go through that again. “I won't allow anyone to treat Charity like some kind of mistake,” I said softly to my own image. “I just won't.”

Go home, Lizzie. Go home.

Whose voice spoke to me? Was it the God I refused to acknowledge, or was it the devil, trying to finally destroy the last little piece of Lizzie Engel that still remained? I couldn't tell, but it was clear there was nothing left for me in Kansas City. No job, no money, no choices, and no peace as long as the man in the red cap continued his campaign of terror. I had to get Charity away from his threats, and I had to protect her from Reba. Her lies had the power to land me in jail. Either one of those situations could cause me to lose the only thing left in my life I cared about: my daughter. It was abundantly clear that there was only one road left open for me.

And it led to Kingdom.