HER FINAL FLIGHT
A Short Story By Willys Watson
1.
The times she ran before she had been quickly captured, but with each stoppage she was gaining needed experience. When she ran this time she was better prepared, having filled a backpack with changes of clothes, three bottles of drinking water and enough food to last her at least four days if she rationed it carefully enough and even squeezed in a roll of toilet paper. She also had fifty-three dollars she had justifiably stolen right before this hopefully last flight from danger.
Paying cash to cover her tracks, she used twenty dollars of that money to take a bus into a town in the next state, some sixty miles from where she had escaped, believing this would fool the searchers for at least several days while she figured where to go next. After stepping off the bus she hid in an alley until right before sunset, eating a candy bar as it set, then grabbed the heavy backpack and walked towards the residential area of the town, hoping no one would notice her.
The weight of the backpack, likely thirty pounds, seemed to cut groves into her thin shoulder blades and she tried her best to ignore the pain because it was helping her put distance between herself and the ominous environment she was fleeing from, so she focused on her immediate concern to find a safe place to spend the night. Wandering around in near darkness was difficult enough because the residential neighborhood had few and far between streetlights and her early adrenaline rush was waning to the point that the wariness, both physical and emotional, was bearing down on her.
Nestled among the much older wood planked houses she noticed a newer brick home with a well kept front yard, the kind of house she wished she had grown up in. Through the drawn curtains she saw only one interior light, one probably from the kitchen, and she concluded this place was better than most of the others to spend the night hiding out at. She slowly approached the gate for the smaller side yard, praying that the owner didn’t have a dog and the gate was unlocked. Finding the gate not locked, she thanked a god she no longer believed in as she carefully opened it so the hinges wouldn’t squeak. Once inside she slowly closed the gate. Then the laid the backpack on the cement walkway to use as a pillow and lay down on the hard, make-shift bed, partially concealed by two trash cans, to catch some much needed rest.
Because she had been asleep less than an hour the fatigue filtered out the sound of the side door being opened and the footsteps of a large figure approaching, one carrying a bag of trash. It wasn’t until the figure nearly tripped on her outstretched legs and turned on a high-beam flashlight that her self-protection intuition kicked in and she bolted upright, instinctively reaching for the backpack. But the reaction of the figure was faster than her sleep-deprived response and a man’s large hand clasped her thin arm.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged the stranger.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Sweety,” he assured her.
“Other folks said that and they did anyway.”
“I’m not one of those type of people and I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“Other folks make promises they don’t keep,” she reminded him as she fruitlessly tried to free herself from his grip.
“I won’t hurt you or even report you and if you’ll trust me I’ll try to help you,” he gently told her as he turned off the flashlight. “Just come inside out of the chill for awhile and I’ll fix you a hot meal while you warm up and when ]you’re ready to leave I’ll give you a blanket and show you how to get safely to the city park where you can sleep.”
“You’ll just try to hurt me, too, Mister!”
“Oh, Honey, I’ve had more than my share of pain in my long life already and refuse to pass it along to anyone else,” he softly informed her and released his grip on her arm and helped her to her feet. “I’ll be in the kitchen in case you decide to trust me.”
As she watched him amble towards the side door she was overwhelmed with possible options and doubts. She stared at the redwood gate, then back towards the waiting warmth of the house, then at the gate again, finally deciding this couldn’t be any worse than what she’s already been through. Picking up the backpack and clutching it to her thin chest, she walked to the open door while praying this was her safest option for now.
2.
Standing timidly at the kitchen’s door, she sat the backpack on the tile floor. But realizing he had already started cooking triggered an alarm and she grabbed the backpack again. When hearing the noise, the tall, bearded man turned to her and smiled warmly.
‘Please don’t hurt me! Please!”
“Kiddo, I’m more concerned with you having a concealed gun or big a*s knife in that thing and you hurting me,” was his whimsical reply to try to reassure her. “And I didn’t know you would be coming in and started cooking because I missed eating supper.”
“Okay, maybe ... maybe ... I’ll eat with you. But please don’t try to touch me.”
“You really think I’ll take a chance getting my pretty face all cut up?”
“I don’t know. Just please don’t touch me, okay”
“I’m more worried about you touching me and messing up my cooking because I’m that hungry.” Noting a smile, though weak, on her mouth, as she inched herself in his direction, he informed her, “I didn’t make it to the grocery store today to stock up, so is bacon, eggs and toast okay with you?”
“That’s fine,” she agreed, concluding that this free meal, as long as he kept his hands to himself, would save her a little food money for later on. Still, she felt she should contribute something and asked, “Can I ... do something ... you know, to help?"
“Making some toast would help,” he suggested as he motioned towards the toaster on the other counter top. “Two slices for me and as many as you want for you and toast some extra to have when you leave tonight.”
As they sat eating at the small kitchen table she watched him intensely, the way an animal would to protect itself from possible danger.
“I’m Doug. And you are?” he asked between bites.
“I better not give you my name because if folks find out they’ll catch me quicker.”
“Yeah, I understand that. So I’ll just call you Gertie. Is that okay?”
“I saw that movie, too. Yeah, Gertie’s cool.”
They ate in silence for several minutes until she suddenly dropped her fork and reached with both hands to the crouch area of her jeans, displaying an expression between fear and embarrassment.
“I gotta use the bathroom! Now, please!”
When Doug pointed to the hallway to the left of him, she rose quickly, knocking over her chair, and rushed to the bathroom. Concerned like a real father should be, he pushed his own chair away from the table and walked towards the closed door of the bathroom. Hearing her muted cry of fear Doug knocked softly on the door.
“You okay, Gertie?”
“I’m bleeding.”
“I’m calling 9-11!”
“No, no, no! No cops. I’m bleeding down there.”
“Your period?”
“Oh, Lord, yes! This can’t happen now. This ... just ... can’t!”
“A girl’s first period is always kinda scary,” Doug tried to reassure her.
“But I don’t have any ... you know ... because I wasn’t expecting it. Not yet, and I ... I just can’t handle this s**t now!” she declared in a whimper.
“Baby, just grab one of the large bath towels to wipe yourself clean and some face cloths for any more that flows.”
“But my jeans and panties are ruined!”
“Nothing tossing them into my washing machine won’t solve.”
“Okay ... for now but ... but what about later?”
“I’ll give you some money and when the stores open in the morning you can buy a supply of tampons and keep some extra wash clothes with you until then, okay?”
“That’s okay, I suppose.”
Doug patiently waited in the kitchen and ten minutes later she appeared wrapped in a large bath towel while carrying her soiled clothes and the wash clothes.
“Sweety, I could have brought you the backpack.”
“I suppose, but I was kinda scared and wasn’t thinking right,” she admitted as she headed to the backpack.
Doug noticed the deep bruises on her legs, believing he knew what caused them, but didn’t say anything as she headed back to the bathroom.
“I’m not really hungry anymore,” she announced after she returned with the backpack and sat at the table.
“Feeling a little stronger, a little better now?”
“No, no Mister ... uh, Doug. It just makes everything even harder now.”
“Periods do that with a young woman who aren’t used to then,” Doug replied, hoping to ease her stress.
“No. It just means ... it means if I have to go back ... he might make me have a baby now,” she tried to clarify while holding back tears.
“Tell me who and I’ll hurt the b*****d so bad he’ll never hurt you again.”
“You can’t help because he’ll beat me really bad again and maybe kill me and you if you tried to help. He’s mean and acts crazy and has all those ... those goddamn guns in the house.”
“You can spend the night here and even stay here as long as you want to,” Doug said as he took the soiled cloths to the washing machine. “You can sleep on the sofa or the bed, whichever you want and I’ll use the one you don’t choose. But trust me, the bed’s a lot more comfortable and the bedroom more private and I’m used to falling asleep on the sofa watching movies.”
“Thank you, Doug,” she told him sincerely.
“Also, if you’ll hang around one more day we’ll go shopping to get you warmer clothes because these chilly nights are about to get colder.”
She smiled warmly, grabbed the backpack and went to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Doug lay on the sofa pretending to go to sleep and quietly waited for forty-five minutes or so, then tiptoed down the hallway towards the closed bedroom door. After hearing her soft, but labored, snoring he went to the smaller bedroom, the one he had converted into his office.
Closing it’s door, he called a trusted old friend and long time co-worker on his cell phone to ask him for a favor. After the friend cussed him out for calling so late at night Doug gave him the details he already knew of the girl, including her description and his professional opinion of where she and her abuser likely lived and mentioned the likely illegal weapons he was hoarding. Though he didn’t need to, considering his friend’s training and experience, Doug suggested he check local area schools about kids her age missing class and check for missing child reports and local area bus terminals to see if she took a bus. Then he informed his friend he needed the information as soon as possible because her life was at stake. After his friend cussed him out again for telling him how to do his job they said goodnight and Doug retired to the sofa to fall asleep, knowing she was still safe as long as she didn’t skip out before they could help her and he said a prayer she would still be here in the morning.
3.
She was up early because she purposely left the bedroom window curtains open, knowing the morning sunlight would wake her. She actually had a good night’s sleep because Doug had not entered the room during the night and she decided by morning he had proven to her, at least so far, that he was trustworthy. She dressed quickly and tiptoed into the livingroom to see if he was still asleep on the sofa.
Finding him still asleep, she figured it was a perfect time to explore her temporary safe haven and started with the smaller bedroom. Opening the door she realized why he didn’t offer it to her to sleep in because it had been converted into a study with a large desk placed against the window. The other walls were filled with full bookcases, but the wall where the desk was sitting was covered with personal photographs on both sides of the window. Some were of a younger Doug in a military uniform, some with his likely family during his childhood and the rest were of young adult Doug with a young woman and a little girl and she assumed they were his wife and daughter. She studied them a moment, wondering why there were not newer photographs of the three of them together. Then she quietly closed the door and, feeling a little guilty that she was snooping around, headed to the kitchen.
Looking in the refrigerator for something to eat that didn’t require making noise while cooking all she found were several apples, some tomatoes and two pears and chose the pears because they were seldom in her diet. Taking a kitchen knife and a plate, she carried all of them to the table. Sitting down, she sliced the pears into bite sized chunks. When she had finished eating she carried the plate and knife to the sink and started washing them. While doing so she heard clapping hands and turned around to see Doug smiling at her.
“Thank you, Gertie, for not running off this morning.”
“I’ve decided I can trust you,” she announced, then asked, “Can I fix you some breakfast?”
“God, no. Not greasy bacon and eggs two meals in a roll. But if it’s okay with you I think we should talk a few minutes.”
When she nodded they sat at the table together.
“I’ve been thinking,” Doug started the conversation, “that for your own safety you should hang out here for maybe a few more days, even a week, because you’re safe here. I mean, you can leave whenever you want, of course, but the people looking for you will get around to looking in our small town, too, and when they can’t find you they’ll move on.”
“I would love to stay, Mister ... uh, Doug, but there’s two things we gotta think about first.”
“And they are?” he pried her, admiring her spunk.
“The first is kinda important,” she announced.
“Okay, let’s do important first.”
“Well, you know, if I stay awhile I wanna pay my share, like for the groceries and my girl stuff.”
“Honey, a girl your age in a family doesn’t have to do that. Helping with dishes and supper and other chores are enough.“
“In some families maybe, but he told me because I couldn’t help with rent and food I had to do what he ... he ... made ... me do.”
“Okay, I understand that now. So for work I’ve got some neighbors getting older and bet they would pay you to do their yard work. Would you do that?” Doug asked and when she nodded and grinned, he offered another chance to her, “I know the manager of the grocery store and I’m sure she’ll let you help older customers take they bags to their cars and load them.”
“I’ll do that, but ... uh ... won’t they want my ID or something to hire me?”
“Not a good idea because school student IDs and Social Security cards are traceable. I was thinking doing it for tips would work well. Okay?”
“Cool, but I don’t want you driving me everyday there and back That’s not me doing my share, so I’ll get a used bicycle,” she insisted and when Doug nodded, she wondered aloud, “And what about one of those cards you tape up saying you’re looking for part time work?”
“Good idea, but only if I know the people wanting to hire you part time. So now on to the other worry.”
“The other thing is, won’t your neighbors and the other folks in town be wondering about me?”
“If anyone asks I’ll tell them you’re my granddaughter visiting for a few weeks. They’ll believe me because they’ve seen me around town with some of my family.”
“Like in those pictures with the woman and little girl?”
“Oh, you’ve been snooping?”
“I needed to know more about you to trust you.”
“Of course. So, do you trust me enough?
“Yes,” she responded while nodding her head.
“And you’re right, the woman and little girl are part of my family,” he admitted, not telling her they were his wife and daughter who were killed by a drunk driver years ago. “So, when you’re ready we’ll hit the stores to stock up on food and you can pick out all the food you like to eat, as long as it’s not junk food.”
“I’m ready now!”
“Yeah, but go take a shower to freshen up first.”
“I’ll hurry.”
“Take all the time you need because I want to hang out in the back yard to enjoy the cool, sweet morning air before it starts getting cold.”
She grinned, grabbed her backpack, and headed to the bathroom.
4.
While she was taking her shower Doug headed to the back wall of the deep yard to call his friend at the Bureau again.
“What you got, Harry?” he asked his old friend and formal coworker.
“Not too much. No missing child reports have been filed and I’m not surprised. As to checking for kids her age missing school, you got any idea how many middle school systems there are in a two hundred mile radius of your dinky little town?”
“Uh, two or three?”
“Always the smart a*s, huh?” Harry scolded him as old friends playfully do. “But we caught a lucky break because one of the bus drivers remembered her based on your description and noticed how nervous she was acting.”
“She’s the one who’s lucky, but thank you, my friend. I owe you big time.”
“You owe me so much already you don’t have enough years left to pay me back.”
“Still, the tip is promising.”
“Well, maybe, because we know what city she took the bus in, but that still doesn’t mean she lived there. And don't forget it's not really a Bureau case unless the illegal weapons part pans out.”
“At least it’s a start.”
“I've been asking around based on gut instincts and right now I'm more worried about the kid's safety. Tracking her down would be a lot easier if we had her DNA,” Harry lamented.
“But we do,” Doug told me.
“How the hell did you get it without her knowing?”
“She had her first period yesterday and I saved some of the soiled wash clothes she used because she wasn’t expecting it and didn’t have tampons.”
“Looks like the poor girl finally got a break, so get them to me quickly.”
“Already ready and when we go into town in a few minutes I’ll express the package to you and, Harry, we need the results as soon as possible!”
“I know that and we’re lucky some of our lab rats work 24-7. Just try to keep her with you for a few more days.”
“She’s not my captive, but I’ll do my best,” Doug sincerely replied and Harry signed off.
5.
As they headed to the garage to get his old Jeep SUV the girl included one last condition, more a request than a demand.
“Doug, I don’t wanna sleep in your bedroom any more because it’s your house and I feel guilty. So I chose the sofa instead, okay?”
“That uncomfortable thing? We can do much better than that,” he suggested as he opened the wide garage door, then pointed to the side of the room he used for storage, while ribbing her “If you’re not some little princess snob, you can use my old Army cot, the sleeping bag I take when I go camping or the air mattress.”
“Air mattress?”
“You younger people need to get out in nature more often. It’s a mattress you blow up with air and it’s more comfortable than my bed.”
She walked over to the box he pointed to, saw the illustration for the air filled mattress and smiled a yes smile, then they climbed into the Jeep to head into town.
Their first stop was the drug store, the only one in town, so she could buy the personal items she needed. With them paid for she headed to the store’s public restroom. While the girl was occupied Doug handed the clerk a large express package containing two of the soiled wash clothes he hid and didn’t toss into the clothes hamper, paying full price for same day delivery.
Their next stop was the grocery store and, though Doug noticed two empty parking spaces on the street, he pulled into the store’s side parking lot to show her where the carts are pushed. After spending an hour loading up two carts with a week’s worth of groceries and drink, each pushed one back into the parking lot. As they loaded the bags through the tailgate an older woman, a neighbor of Doug’s, parked beside them.
“And who’s this cute little girl, Doug?” she quizzed him as she approached them.
“That’s my sister Alice’s granddaughter, Sally. Her name is Gertie.”
“Have I met you before?” Alice wondered as they exchanged polite handshakes.
“Once when she was eight and visiting me with her mother,” Doug lied dutifully.
“I was nine then, Uncle Doug,” the girl corrected him to play along with his charade.
“I knew I recognized you, Gertie, because I never forget a face,” she nodded, then told Doug, “Bring Gertie over to my house to visit this weekend and I’ll tell her all about the people in our little town.”
Doug agreed and they watched her head to the store.
“Not too bad, Gertie,” Doug proudly complemented her as they climbed into the Jeep.
“I had to learn how to lie good because ... because ... “she responded with finishing.
“It’s okay. So, any more tours of the town before we head home?”
“Maybe later. But we need to get the food into the fridge first.”
Doug saluted her as if she were his commanding officer and headed the Jeep towards his house.
As the girl helped him put the groceries in their right place, Doug’s cell phone rang.
“Yeah?” he answered and when he heard Harry’s voice, told him, “Give me a minute.”
He motioned to the girl that he needed to take the call and she nodded, then he headed to the study and closed the door.
“Hope it’s something good, old friend,” Doug started.
“May maybe yes, maybe no.”
“Just tell me, dude!”
“Ease up, Gramps,” Harry jokingly responded. “One middle school in a city seventy-two miles from your town, one just across the state line, finally reported a girl fitting your girl’s description has missed school three days in a roll. The school V.P. called the number the girl gave the school in case of an emergency, but it was the number to a house that didn’t have children.”
“Finally, a sound lead! That’s Murphysville, right”
“Yeah, but now it really gets interesting because the V.P. connected me with the school nurse and the nurse told me a girl by that description was sent to her office by her teacher because the girl was walking in pain and could barely sit in her desk. The nurse examined her and saw deep, unnatural bruises on her legs. The girl, who’s name is Fay Johnson, claimed she fell off a bicycle. The nurse didn’t believe her, but gave her a pass to go home. Then she called the same false number.”
“You think that’s our girl?” Doug asked while saying a silent prayer.
“Pretty damn sure, but just remember that may not be her real name. And the DNA will help.”
“Expressed mailed this morning and you should get it by this evening.”
“Let’s hope so, buddy,” Harry said as he hung up.
Back in the kitchen Doug noticed she had already started lunch.
“Pretty good cook, huh?” he inquired.
“Had to learn because he made me do all the cooking, dish washing and house cleaning.”
“And your mother?”
“Please don’t ask me about her!”
Doug nodded and sat the table and silently waited until she brought the food to it. While eating he decided she was a pretty good cook but didn’t tell her this because she obviously had too much to think about.
6.
After lunch, in which she insisted to do the dishes herself to help pay for her share, Doug headed to the study, then turned and waited until the dished were done.
“I’ve got to make a few phone calls and do some research for a story I’m writing. Will you be okay or maybe get too bored?”
“I guess I’ll be okay, but thank you.”
“You’re too smart and inquisitive to not get bored, Sweety. So, you like movies?”
“I guess I used to, but when he moved in with us he wouldn’t let me watch any.”
“Follow me, Gertie,” Doug instructed and she complied as they headed to the wall opposite the sofa where a large, flat screen television was hung. Motioning to the tall bookshelf sitting next to the t.v. he informed her, “I’ve got maybe three hundred films on DVD, some old classics, some newer films to watch, some popular, some independent films that didn’t make much money. So you just chose a few you think you’ll like.”
After showing her how to work the DVD player and remote he left her alone to do the research he wanted to do, wisely not telling her it was about the city she was from and the school she attended.
She selected a film about a wannabe rock singer and guitarist who took a job at a school for gifted children and taught them to play rock music. After the film was over she went to the closed study door and softly knocked on it. Doug opened the door, smiling as usual.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“As long as it’s not about asking me to dance because I’m bad at it.”
She giggled and took the arm chair next to the desk.
“I’ve been wondering about those pictures of you and the woman and little girl and why there aren’t any of her when she got older?”
“That was my wife and daughter.”
“Do you still see them?”
“I hope to some day in Heaven if there is such a place, but in real life they were killed in a car crash years ago, long before you were born.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. The pain never really goes away but over the years the remembering of the fond memories makes it a lot easier.”
“I shouldn’t have snooped. I’m sorry.”
“It’s natural for a girl your age who’s as smart as you are, and I bet you make good grades in school, huh?”
“I try real hard to do so because that’s all ... I can ... that’s all I can do because ... “
“I understand. So, any more questions?”
“All those books? You read them?”
“A perfect question for a budding detective. And I read them because I’ve always wanted to be a writer and reading good books help me become a better writer. You love books?”
“I used to read all the time until ... until he moved in and he won’t let me.”
“Tell you what. Sweety, after dinner I’ll give you some of the short stories I’ve written if you promise not to laugh at how bad they are.”
She beamed with joy as if being granted a rare chance to read again, then rose to go back into the living room to watch another film.
When supper was over and she washed the dishes Doug inflated the air mattress and placed it against the corner of the wall near the television set, a location that gave the mattress a little privacy. Then he went into the study and selected six printed out short stories to give her to read. She wiped off her hands, accepted the short stories and headed to the sofa to read them. After smiling at her Doug went back into the study, closing it’s door, to try to find out more information about Murphysville, the city she lived in.
7.
.
The next morning after breakfast she smiled at Doug, unsure just how to phase what she wanted to say after reading story last night.
”What, my stories were that bad?”
“There were a bunch of words spelled wrong.”
“I think a lot faster than I type, but a good edit will correct the typos. So, where they that bad?”
“No, I liked them but liked best the story about the little boy who dreamed he had a magic touch and could turn ugly stones into something pretty, like flowers and trees with big leaves.”
“Thank you, Gertie. And that reminds me we should go to our little city park before all the leaves turn brown and fall off the tree. You cool with that?”
“I love nature, but never get to be out in it because of him.”
“Yeah, I know. But first let’s stop by Joanie’s bicycle shop. She’s got some nice used bikes for sale, including ones for girl’s your age to ride.”
“I’d love that but want to pay for it myself.”
“I still remember your rule, Sweety. But I’m sure Joanie will let you pay it out in payments from your own earnings.”
So they climbed into his Jeep and headed into town, first stopping at Joanie’s, a small bicycle shop behind a clothing store, it’s entrance in the alley. She chose the bike she wanted and loaded it into the back of the Jeep herself, them they headed to the park. After he parked he watched her running around the trees, stopping sometimes to lay down and cover herself with fallen leaves. Watching her, he was filled with joy and lingering anger at the monster who had caused her so much pain and emotional stress, thoughts he wished he didn’t have to think about, with his thoughts interrupted by his ringing cell phone. He answered it as he walked back towards the Jeep.
“Tell me only good news now, Harry,” Doug almost pleaded.
“Your so-called same day express package was on my desk when I got to the office and I had a carrier take it to our regional lab. He’s on his way now and I’ll know something this afternoon.”
“That late?”
“Buddy, you should remember how their case load gets backed up, but Dianne assured me, I actually made her promise, she would personally conduct the DNA testing this afternoon.”
‘Guess there’s not much I can do but wait.”
“And enjoy some time with your new little friend while she’s still with you,” Harry responded, then hung up.
“When the smart a*s is right, he’s right,” Doug silently admitted to himself.
Hoping for the best, Doug joined the girl and chased her around the trees, with each stopping occasionally to toss fallen leaves at each other. After an hour or so he motioned for them to climb back into the Jeep. As he put the Jeep in gear he looked at her lovingly, imagining her as his own daughter if his daughter had lived.
“Any more stops before we head home, Missy Gertie?”
“Maybe later, but I wanna get back and edit your stories for you, Doug!” she teased him.
But driving back to his house he believed he should at least offer her a few hints about the information he was about to receive from Harry.
“I used to be an investigator, Gertie. That’s what I did for a living.”
“Cool. Like those t.v. detectives?”
“Sort of, but all those actors are handsome and I’m am ugly old fart.”
“No, you’re not!”
“Thanks, but you remember I told you I was going to help you, right?” he reminded her. When she nodded, he asked her again, “You still trust me, right?
“Yes.”
“Good, because that’s important. You understand?”
After she nodded yes she stared out the window and absorbed the small town she was finally beginning to feel safe in.
8.
At the house after lunch was over and she was washing the dishes Doug picked out the same movie she had been watching about the wannabe rock star and started watching it, laughing at the funny parts he had forgotten. With the dishes done she came and sat on the floor to watch the rest of the film again. After it was over Doug put on a film he really liked, and hoped she would love, about a forgotten rock star who was raising one of his many children. And he was happy she seemed to be enjoying it, too. When it was over he studied the girl as she went over to her inflated air mattress and pulled out his short stories, bringing them back to the sofa.
“You have some pens and paper I can borrow to take down notes as I edit the stories, Doug? I’ll buy you new ones.”
“Of course, but if you’re going to go to all that trouble I’m going to pay your for your efforts if you do a good job editing them.”
“No, I want to earn my keep.”
“Missy, I would have to pay an editor anyway to free up more of my time writing, so why not you?” When she nodded he stated, “And if those stories ever get published you’ll also get book credit as my editor-in-chief.”
As he went into the study to get her the pens and several legal pads, she took the stories to the seldom used dinning room table and waited. When he returned and handed her the pen and pad Doug watched her carefully arrange them on the table, then look up to smile at him.
When she busied herself with the re-reading of the stories, Doug retired to his study, closing it’s door, thinking about starting a story about a runaway teen that has a happy ending, keeping his cell phone by the laptop while hoping Harry would call him.
He came out much later when the girl called to inform him supper was ready. While eating he was tempted to ask her how the editing was going, but she interrupted his thought with an unexpected question.
“Do you have an old typewriter you no longer use or want? I don’t want to borrow your computer because it’s your’s and you need it.”
“Somewhere in my study closet. You know how to use those antique things?”
“I’ll figure it out pretty quickly,” she announced confidently.
“I’m sure you will,” he acknowledged and went back to the study to dig out the old electric typewriter he hadn’t used in years, calling back to her, “Give me a few minutes to brush off the dust and see if I can find some extra ribbons.”
He sat the old typewriter on the table and plugged it in, then gave her a half-filled box of threehole punched typewriter paper to use.
“I’m happy to do this because I need to keep my brain busy and they’ll make me repeat the same grade because I can’t go back to school, not with him still there.”
“Oh, sometimes fate smiles on us when least expected and I personally know just the person who can help you stay caught up.”
“Really? Who?”
“You’ll meet her tomorrow, so be patient and practice your typing because it’s too late to visit her tonight and I’m tired and want to go to sleep. And don’t stay up too late tonight because we’ve got a busy day tomorrow, Gertie!”
She nodded yes and gently grabbed a sheet of typewriter paper to feed to the neglected machine sitting on the table.
9.
Saturday morning, after breakfast and her washing the dishes, Doug asked her if she felt like visiting Sally for a little while, telling her Sally was the women he mentioned who would help her stay caught up and Sally was a retired teacher who taught middle school classes.
“Sure, after I go pee.”
“Uh, Baby, ladies don’t offer details. They say they want to go to the bathroom first.”
The girl gave him a silly salute and went to pee anyway.
On the block long walk to Sally’s house Doug paused for a moment to convey to the girl what he thought might be an awkward moment when they met Sally.
“There’s one thing you need to promise me, Gertie, so we can avoid any gawking, okay?” When the girl nodded she agreed, Doug explained, “Sally lives with a woman named Rose, who’s also a retired teacher who taught high school. And by lives with I mean they’re partners. So, if you see them hugging or kissing each other just act like it’s natural to you. Understand?”
“They’re lucky they’ve got each other to love.”
With pride in her response, Doug patted her on the shoulder as they approached the door, and when Sally opened it she welcomed the girl as if she were part of her own family.
The visit to Sally and Rose’s house lasted over two hours because both woman loved talking about their years teaching and they fawned over Gertie as if she were their own daughter. Doug was finally able to convince them he and Gertie needed to leave because they needed to stock up on school supplies and buy Gertie some dresses.
Back at his house the girl headed to the dinning room to practice her typing.
“Not now, Missy, we’ve got to go buy you school supplies and a few dresses.”
“But I hate dresses!”
“So what? You’ll only wear them when you visit Sally and Rose.”
“But I’ll still want to pay for something I don’t want.”
“So what? You’ll be making plenty as my editor.”
“How much is plenty?”
“The going rate paid professional editors,” he teased her.
She rushed up to him and hugged him tightly. Though somewhat embarrassed, Doug welcomed the unexpected display of affection. After the long hug they climbed into his Jeep had headed to the department store.
After supper she returned to the dinning room to type up her edited version of his stories and Doug went to his office, closing the door. As he stared at the opened but unused laptop his cell phone rang.
“Here’s what we have so far based on the DNA results. We know where the girl lives because of the blood sample taken during her mother’s criminal arrest.”
“And?”
“Not yet, until it’s confirmed. But we have a search warrant issued by a federal circuit judge and at daybreak tomorrow morning our guys will be at her door to serve it.”
“For God’s sake, why can’t you tell me now?”
“Buddy, I case you’ve forgotten, I still work for the Bureau and am not going to endanger collected evidence by not following standard procedures,” Harry laughed and hung up.
10.
Sunday morning after breakfast Doug wanted to ask the girl a question he already knew the answer to.
“You’re not really into church all that much, are you?”
“With what’s happened it’s kinda hard to keep believing.”
Yeah, the know the feeling. I went through that when my wife and daughter died so young.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we’re taking a break and heading to the park.”
“Can I ask why?”
“You just did. But I want you to practice riding your new bike because I don’t want you breaking your stubborn neck ridding it back and forth to the grocery store.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she halfheartedly agreed and headed to the garage.
At the park he watched her trying to ride the bike like a pro, even taking her hands off the handle bars to show Doug how well she could ride it. And he watched in amazement at how quickly she learned when given the chance. He wanted to acknowledge this by clapping, but his cell phone rang.
“Good news, right?” he asked Harry as he leaned against the Jeep.
“Very. The b*****d is in jail and will be there a long time.”
“And?”
“I’ll fill in the details in person.”
“Why not now?”
“Like it or not, I going to follow protocol. I could send a local agent but would rather tell you two in person.”
“Harry?”
“I’m already in flight to Murphysville and they’re keeping me updated and I’ve got a company car waiting at the airport. If the GPS doesn’t screw up I’ll be at your house in three hours.”
“Harry, I ... uh ... “
“Christ, dude, just tell her you’re expecting a visit from a fellow coworker bringing good news. And be tactful,” Harry laughed and hung up.
After lunch the girl took her place at the dinning room table to retype several pages that had errors, mistakes caused while she was learning to use a real typewriter.
“I’m sorry we don’t have any White Out around,” Doug chuckled.
“White Out?”
“Never mind,” he laughed, then reminded her, “You remember when I told you I used to be an investigator, right?” Without looking she nodded as she pulled a retyped page from the typewriter and put in a new sheet. “Well, a friend of mine who’s still an investigator is coming to visit and he’s got very good news for you.”
“But ... why? Did you tell him about ... about ... but ... but, he’ll find me now!’
“I need you to trust him like you trust me because he’s got wonderful news for you.”
“I guess if you trust him I can, too,” the girl said, though not totally convinced.
11.
“This is Howard Hicks, the man I told you about I used to work with.”
“So, you’re the poor kid stuck with this grumpy old codger, huh?” Harry began, hoping his attempt at humor would be welcomed. When she just stared at him, Doug lead them into the kitchen, grabbing a chair from the dinning room table so they could all sat together at the smaller table.
“I’ll get right to the point because I know you don’t trust many people,” Harry said while facing the girl. “That man who hurt you so much, the one called Darnel, is in jail and will never get out to hurt you again. I promise you this, Young Lady.”
“I don’t have to ever see him again,” asked the still doubtful girl.”
“Never. But when he goes on trail we’ll need your sworn testimony and we’ll videotape it with you behind a curtain to show that to the judge and possible jury. He’ll never see your face in the video.”
“And the charges?” Doug wondered.
“Always a detective, huh, Douglas? The sexual assault charges will follow later, but right he’s in jail and the judge refuses to accept bail, for all those illegal weapons, including a bazooka, a mortar tube and mortal rounds, a rocket propelled weapon and a dozen hand-made bombs. And in a quick search of his computer files, our guys discovered he’s a member of at least two white terrorists groups claiming they’re going to start killing people opposed to their agenda.,” Harry started, then smiled and stopped talking, baiting his old friend.
“Don’t be an a*s, Harry. I know there’s more.”
“Well, his boast may be true or just a boast, but on one of his white terrorists sites he claimed he’s already killed three young black kids. But the point is, our Darnel will rotting in prison for a long, long time.”
“Oh ... oh ... oh, God! I’m really, really safe now?”
“Really safe now,” Doug reassured her.
“That’s not all, folks. We’ve still got the less important part to cover,” Harry hinted in his typical showmanship manner. When his friend and the girl stared at his, Harry chuckled and explained, directing his attention to the girl, “In a weird, weird sort of way it seems you and that worn out old fart are someway related.”
“Really?” the girl gasped hopefully.
“Not likely. Seriously, don’t you think I would know?” Doug interrogated his old friend.
“It’s in the DNA, Grandpa,” Harry lectured his old friend, then whimsically told the girl, “But between you and me, I would be embarrassed to find out his side of the family still has ape members swinging from trees.”
“Your friend is kinda funny, Doug,” she finally laughed.
“Least he thinks he is,” was Doug’s whimsical retort.
“But how related, distant or close, may depend on what you can remember from your childhood, Young Lady,” Harry addressed her earnestly again. “So remember what you honestly can, starting with your real father.”
“I ... uh ... don’t remember much because I was so little when he died. But Momma cried and cried and cried and started drinking and started drinking more and more and sometimes when she looked at me she would cry again and drink more. And when I asked about my Daddy she yelled at me and drank even more.”
“And your mother’s name?” Harry asked although he already knew.
“Carla. And Carla Bush is how she signed my report cards from school.”
“If I remember right, Sweetheart, her name was Carla and we are somehow related. Maybe Bush was her maiden name.” Doug responded. “I’m pretty sure, but I’ll need to call my sisters.”
“No gonna happen, Dude. You’ll remember now!” Harry commanded as if he had Doug inside an interrogation booth.
“Jackie has two daughters. Alice a son and daughter. The son married a woman in Ohio and they lived there because she didn’t care too much for our civil rights, women’s rights, planet Earth causes. Uh ... holy s**t ... the son was Robbie and he was killed trying to stop a mugger and ... after the burial ... his wife empted the bank account and took their little girl and disappeared.”
“But you kept looking?” the girl pleaded.
“Of course we did. But she kept moving from town to town, kept changing her name, kept doing this until the money ran out, I suppose. Some local damn police forces wouldn’t bother to help, claiming she was the legal mother and guardian of the child.”
“Not much longer, because our guys found her so drunk she wasn’t even aware we were searching the house,” Harry provided added information. “And within six days a judge will issue an order taking away her rights to legal guardianship.”
“I’m Fran, thought I’m really Frances, which I hate almost as much as Franny, and I’m her daughter,” Fran finally admitted.
“Welcome back into the family, Fran,” Doug announced while hugging her.
“You’re my Uncle Doug?” Fran asked. “I can stay with you now?
“Sorry, I can’t be an actual uncle, but you can call me uncle anyway. You’re more like, I’m guessing, my great grand niece or something like that. As to staying with me that will depend on your grandmother, but I’m sure my sister, your Grandma Alice, will let you stay here in the summer and perhaps during the school holidays. But we’ll let your Grandma Alice figure that out when we call her now.”
“Hold on, you two!” Harry commanded as Fran and Doug headed to the old school phone hanging on the kitchen wall near the laundry room door. When they stared at him he explained, “Before you two get all mushy I need Fran to clarify several things for my final report.”
“God, Harry! Can’t it wait?”
“I can always sleep here tonight or come back tomorrow.”
“You’re an a*s, Harry!”
“Just doing my job, Doug, and I’ve had like four hours sleep in the last twenty-four by working through this weekend and the two things won’t take but a moment.”
“It’s okay,” Fran told Doug, then went back to the kitchen table.
“I’ll make this quick, Fran,“ Harry began. “The first thing is the unaccounted for day. Your school told me you had missed school three day. So when you showed up at Doug’s house after taking the bus that was day two.”
“Well, Mr. Harry, the first day I hid and watched the house to see if they called the police and nobody showed up, then though about hitchhiking but don’t trust strangers, so I spent the night sleeping in an alley near the bus place.”
“Smart girl you are to watch the house. But the second thing is kinda personal, okay?” When Fran nodded she understood, Harry asked her as gently as he knew how, “Did your mother know what that b*****d Darnel was making you do?”
“I really don’t know because he waited until she was too drunk to notice. Maybe she did and didn’t say anything because he was paying the bills,” Fran answered honestly.
“Thank you, Sweety, for your courage and honesty, but there’s another thing I’m wondering about. Did you know Darnel had all those illegal weapons in that second bedroom?”
“He had two guys come over sometimes and he would help them carry large bags into that room and sometimes they would carry out smaller bags and one time when he and those guys were talking out on the street I peeked in the room and saw a whole bunch of guns, some for one hand, some were like rifles and a few were really weird, like some you see in movies about war and super hero movies where the bad guys were using them.”
“Good. And during your videotaped testimony we’ll ask you about all those weird weapons and we’ll ask you to describe each one the best way you can. And thank you again, Miss Fran.”
“Can I go call my Grandma now?” Fran wondered as she and Harry rose from the table, with Harry nodding yes and giving her a quick hug.
Then he watched her run to the wall phone to finally talk to her grandmother Alice. After Harry thanked the God he believed in that from time to time some of the runaway or abuse cases ended up with the child in loving hands, he silently opened and closed the front door and headed to his car, debating, as tired as he was, to try to drive back to Murphysville or pull over somewhere and get some sleep.
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