Luca Cubed (The Einsenberg Effect)

Prologue

The sound of the garage lowering alarmed me. My eyes popped open as I lie in bed, listening for the engine of Dewayne’s Corvette to sound in the distance. The roaring confirmed my suspicions. He had taken off for the night.

I sprang up despite the achiness in my body.

From the very top of my head to the bottom of my feet, I experienced unfathomable pain from constant blows to the body.

Suffering through the agony, I pushed through the bedroom we shared, headed for the closet.

Inside, I stretched to reach the suitcases at the very top of it.

“Urgh!” Groaning, I folded from discomfort.

My rib cage felt as if it had been set ablaze. Lifting my shirt, I examined the discoloration. With flared nostrils, I mustered the strength to push through.

“I’m sorry,” I admitted, remembering to show myself the grace I deserved. Beating myself down wouldn’t rectify the situation, building myself up would.

My spiked adrenaline forced me to continue moving instead of dwelling on the results of Dewayne’s latest episode.

I jumped once, and then again, finally catching the suitcase handle and dragging it down with me.

Pain soared through my body as I repeated my actions, pulling down the second suitcase.

The third was in the room just down the hall where my children slept peacefully.

I unzipped the largest suitcase and began stuffing it with the necessities, leaving anything that wasn’t of value to me or my children where it was.

Within three minutes, the suitcase was filled to the brim with undergarments, the twenty-five pairs of leggings I owned, a few pairs of jeans, all the t-shirts that would fit, two shirts suitable for interviews, a few dresses, a pair of tennis shoes, sandals, and the large envelope that housed all the important documents for the girls and I.

Feeling accomplished, I plopped down on the suitcase and ran the zipper from one side to the other.

Simultaneously, my cellphone buzzed on the floor next to me.

My breathing halted as I leaned over, prayerful Dewayne’s number wasn’t displayed on the screen.

Lyric’s contact replacing the image of his allowed me to continue breathing without flaw.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey. Just calling back to check on you and see if you made your final decision.”

“I’m tired, Lyric. It’s as final now as it was when I said it earlier. I’m exhausted,” I choked, trying my hardest not to crack. There was work to be done.

“Say no more. How can I help?”

“Just be waiting for the girls and I when we get there. Lyric, I have nothing.”

“You have your girls, Ever. You have everything you need. Don’t let that stop you.”

“I promise… It won’t.”

“Good.”

“What time will you arrive?”

“Around eight, possibly earlier.”

“You already have the tickets?”

“Yes. I got them about twenty minutes ago.”

“OK. I won’t hold you up. Do you need a Carriage or anything to get you to the station?”

“Yes. Please. We can be ready in ten minutes but I really want to waste as little time as possible. I won’t have time to call you back.”

“I got it, babe. Ten minutes, the car will be waiting.”

“Lyric.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you when you arrive.”

“OK.”

I ended the call, popping right up and heading for the girls’ room, lugging the suitcases behind me.

Before exiting the bedroom, I made sure to grab my cell charger, the iPads, and the chargers they’d been on all night in preparation for this moment.

The strength of a mother was the only justifiable explanation for the power to push through the achiness throughout my frame.

Every step I made was harder than the one before.

Nevertheless, I made it to the bedroom and popped the light on in the closet, trying my hardest not to wake the girls until necessary.

Kneeled in their closet with the door shut behind me, I stuffed the medium-sized suitcase with my oldest’s clothes, making sure I didn’t leave any of her favorites or anything she’d be needing for school.

When the door popped open and in walked a half-asleep Essence, my heart plummeted out of my chest and onto the floor.

“Essence?”

“Mommy?” She yawned, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Are you OK?”

As I recovered, I pushed the tears that were threatening to fall back. I nodded, dramatically, trying to convince us both that I was, although it was a lie from the pit of hell. I hated the thought of lying to Essence, so I compromised.

“I will be.”

“What are you doing? Can I help?”

Inhaling, I counted quickly in my head in an attempt to keep from falling apart. Managing my emotions at the moment felt almost impossible but it was necessary.

“Can you help me get all of your favorite things that you need and that make you feel comfortable inside of the suitcase?”

I dropped my head, unable to look my child in the eyes and admit that I was disrupting our home and moving us six hours away to save us all from the turmoil we were in. I couldn’t quite admit, yet, that I was ripping her away from her financial stability for uncertainty. I couldn’t.

“Okay. But, why, Mommy?”

Taking a second to consider my next words, I quickly understood that there was no way for me to avoid the truth. Essence deserved that. Both of my girls did.

“Be-because,” I stuttered. “I have to get us out of here, Essence.”

I’d never talked to my children about the abuse that I endured in our home but I didn’t have to. They witnessed it as often as it happened. Their father cared nothing about their presence when he raged.

“I have to go,” I cried. “I can’t stay here anymore, baby. I have to save myself, Es. I’m sorry. I have to—we have to get out of here. I’m sorry.”

With both hands, she cupped the sides of my face and lowered her tiny frame onto the ground until we were both kneeling. I watched the glossiness of her eyes transform into full tears.

“I’m sorry, too.” She cried.

“You’re sorry?”

“I’m sorry Daddy hurts you.”

“Don’t be, Essence. Last time was the last time, OK?”

“OK.”

“He can’t hurt me anymore.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” She nodded as I wiped her tears away.

“For what, baby?”

“Saving us.”

Pulling her into my chest, I buried her head and wrapped my arms around her. Her fragile frame shivered, confirming the accuracy of my decision. My trauma was her trauma and neither of us deserved any of it.

“We have to hurry,” I announced, snapping out of the emotional rut and cleaning both of our faces. “We have about five minutes to get downstairs and out of the door. Finish packing your things and I’ll pack Em’s, OK?”

“Yes. Five minutes.”

I used my cellphone to set a timer. Our arms didn’t stop until it sounded.

I rushed out of the closet and into the bedroom.

Without waking Emorey, I pulled her into my arms and ran her down the stairs before coming back up for the two larger suitcases while Essence managed the small one with her sister’s belongings inside.

Just as the Carriage was pulling up, the girls and I were walking out, dressed in our nightly attire, ready for whatever the journey had in store for us.

“Watch your step, Essence,” I whispered, rocking a sleeping Emorey in my arms.

My heart drummed against my chest as she reached the top step. I was next. My height increased immediately, making me bigger than I actually felt. Heck, small wasn’t even the correct word to describe my feelings exactly.

Maybe it was microscopic . Maybe it was inadequate .

Maybe it was meager . Maybe it was insignificant .

Or, maybe it was invisible . It couldn’t have been because I felt very visible.

Exposed, even. Vulnerable to the highest degree.

Which was why I peeped over my shoulder and out of the small windows that we passed each time I lifted and lowered my feet to the floor.

“Right here, Mom?” Essence stopped at one of the first empty seats she saw, drawing my attention to her thin frame, again.

“Uh. No, baby. Keep going,” I instructed her, giving her back a gentle push so that she wouldn’t hold up the people in line behind us.

We passed the seats two by two, a full year seeming to pass before we reached our designated seats. They weren’t at the very back, but they weren’t nearly as close to the center as I would’ve preferred in the event of an emergency. But for the task ahead, any seat would do.

“Here, Essence.”

Because there were three of us, I’d purchased three seats.

Only two of them were near one another. The other was at the very back of the bus, but I refused to even waste my time finding it.

With children the ages of five and three, we’d have to make it work with the two seats that were next to each other on the same row.

There was no way we were parting for the six-hour ride to Channing.

“Right here, Mom?” Essence pointed toward our seats to confirm.

“Yes, baby. Go ahead and take a seat near the window.”

My arms were screaming for relief. Emorey felt like a sack of potatoes resting in them. Though she was a very petite girl, after over an hour of holding her, she seemed to have gained the weight that her doctor had been trying to get her to since she was born.

Essence obeyed, taking the seat closest to the window. I slowly laid Emorey in the seat I planned to occupy to relieve my arms of the pressure her little frame had put on them. Once she was settled, I began removing the bags and backpacks I’d brought along for the journey.

Last, my saving grace fell from my arm and to the ground in front of me. Not wanting to cause a delay in seating, I hurriedly snatched the stroller up and slid back into our row. The line continued to move, getting shorter each time someone found their seat.