Chapter 3 #2
I talked to the baby. It was stupid and I thought it probably couldn’t hear me, but it made me feel less alone.
As I went around, carrying wood into the cabin or counting the cans of soup I had left, I kept a running commentary going.
I told him or her what the weather was like, how many days of food we had left, how many rounds of wood I’d split, how callused my hands were from the axe handle, how badly I missed hot showers.
I described Becka and how much I missed her.
Wondered aloud how my brother and sister were doing with me gone.
I even told him or her about Otto, describing what he looked like and how sweet he’d been.
I didn’t know much about him beyond the fact that he’d both made me feel safe and completely out of control at the same time.
I compartmentalized all of my thoughts so well that I could focus on just one thing at a time, one chore at a time, one meal at a time, surviving one day at a time. Incredibly, I settled in, accepting the new life that I’d been thrust into.
Then, suddenly, on day fifty-four at the cabin, the crunch of gravel outside made me race to the door, throwing it open so fast that it slammed into the wall.
Outside, my uncle Hank had just climbed out of his car, leaving it running. His expression was grim, his lips pressed tightly together, but as his eyes lifted and caught sight of me, his expression morphed into shock.
“Holy God,” he whispered.
I pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, embarrassed by how lank and greasy it was. I wasn’t due for another full bath for two more days and since I couldn’t actually see myself beyond my reflection in the windows, I hadn’t thought about my appearance in weeks.
“Uncle Hank?” I took a tentative step forward. “Are you here to pick me up?”
He got control of his expression and shook his head. “Yes,” he said, contradicting the movement. “Just for a few hours. Grab what you need.”
I glanced back into the cabin. “What I need? Where am I going?”
“Put some shoes on,” he replied firmly, ignoring my question. “Let’s go.”
I hurriedly slid my feet into my rain boots and grabbed the cleanest sweater I had out of my bag, trying to smooth my hair at the same time. Barely taking enough time to add a couple of logs to the fire so it wouldn’t go out before I got back, I rushed outside and down the steps to the car.
When I reached it, I stopped short at the sight of my aunt in the front seat. Because of the way the light had been shining on the windshield I hadn’t been able to see her from the cabin. She was crying.
“Get in,” Uncle Hank called from the driver’s seat.
“Aunt Lacy?” I asked, getting into the back seat.
She turned without a word and pulled me toward her, the seat back awkwardly blocking us from any real contact. Her hand ran down the back of my head and smoothed over my shoulder.
“Enough,” Uncle Hank said gruffly as she sniffled. “Put your seat belts on.”
I felt almost dazed as I sat back in my seat and watched out the window while he turned the car around and left the cabin behind us.
The car was silent long after we’d reached the road and I was dying to talk to them, but I didn’t know what to say.
It was the first time I’d seen them since I’d told my parents I was pregnant.
Were they angry with me? Was there any chance that I could convince them to let me stay with them?
My dad was the eldest and the head of the family which meant that Uncle Hank deferred to him on most things, but he’d looked so shocked when he saw me.
Maybe he hadn’t known where I was. Maybe he was upset enough that he’d finally stick up to my dad and do something about the ludicrous situation.
“Hank,” Aunt Lacy said quietly, her voice hoarse.
He ignored her.
“She’s skin and bones, Hank.”
My eyes widened in surprise and I looked down at my arm, pushing up the sleeve of my sweater. It looked the same to me.
“You good on supplies?” my uncle asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“I’m getting short,” I replied, almost shocked at the question.
Beyond the fact that it was a stark reminder of where I’d been, I realized then that Uncle Hank and Aunt Lacy showing up at the cabin was proof that they’d known where I was the whole time.
He’d probably been the one who’d stocked the cabin with supplies.
My dad hadn’t been the only one to abandon me. He hadn’t lied about where I’d gone. Everyone knew that I was stranded in a place with no running water or electricity and they hadn’t come to rescue me. The knowledge was a blow I hadn’t been prepared for.
After so long without any contact, I struggled to make sense of what was happening. The car was too loud, the seat belt too tight, the vibration of the road almost too much for my senses.
“We’ll stock you up before we bring you back,” he said quietly.
My fists knotted in my lap.
“We can’t—”
“Quiet, Lace,” Uncle Hank scolded, his voice not unkind but firm.
It was a while before anyone spoke again.
“We’ll have to stop by the house,” Aunt Lacy murmured, reaching out to put her hand on Uncle Hank’s arm. “We can’t take her in public like this.”
I looked down at myself for a second time, taking in the limp dress I was wearing and the tights that had a couple of holes in the knee from where I’d snagged them on a stump outside. I put my hand on my knee, covering the holes, ashamed for some reason.
“Yeah, okay,” he replied. “Just a shower, or we’ll be late.”
The familiar sights of Eugene were like a balm to my soul.
I kept my gaze out the window as we passed my elementary school, the grocery store, the park that Becka and I used to race to in the summer.
People were walking their dogs and driving their cars and generally going about life like everything was normal and I soaked it all in.
There was still life outside the little cabin. The world was still turning.
I let Aunt Lacy lead me into their guest bathroom and turn on the shower, but when I opened my mouth to speak, she stopped me with a jerk of her head.
“You know where everything is,” she said, handing me a towel. “I’ll just grab you something to wear, okay?”
I nodded and watched wide-eyed as she left the room and closed the door behind her.
I wished I could’ve appreciated the shower more.
The hot water and actual shampoo were such a luxury that I really should’ve been marveling, but I wasn’t.
I was too afraid of what was going to happen next.
What did she mean when she’d mentioned taking me in public?
Who was I going to see? Why had Uncle Hank picked me up and not my mom and dad?
Did my mom even know that I was back in town?
If she did, would I get to see her? Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of her.
I missed my mom. She was weak, I knew that.
She should’ve stood up for me when my dad told me to pack my things.
She should’ve done something. But she was still my mom.
Before I was ready, Aunt Lacy was back in the bathroom, calling for me to hurry and get dressed.
She was gone by the time I climbed out of the shower but she’d left clean clothes on the closed toilet seat.
I recognized the dress. It was one that she wore all the time when she was running errands.
I lifted the fabric to my nose and inhaled the familiar scent of their laundry detergent.
I let out a small sigh of relief. I’d wondered in my most paranoid moments if my dad had hidden me away until he could find a man willing to marry me.
It wasn’t beyond reason, but I couldn’t think of anyone we knew who would take on another man’s baby.
Aunt Lacy hadn’t given me anything especially nice to wear, though, so I was pretty sure I wasn’t about to be taken to the church for my wedding.
I pulled on the pair of underwear and bra that she’d left me, far beyond caring where they’d come from.
They were clean and soft and it occurred to me just how stiff my own underclothes were from washing and hanging them to dry by the fireplace.
As I carefully dried my hair I stepped in front of the mirror and finally got a good look at my face.
I understood why Aunt Lacy had been startled by my appearance.
I didn’t think I looked sick or anything like that, but my face had changed dramatically.
My cheekbones stood out in stark relief and my chin was more pointed than it had ever been.
I’d lost the round cheeks I’d had all my life. My whole face looked… sharp.
I stared at myself as I pulled my hair back into a bun, pulling a hair tie and bobby pins from the drawer to the left of the sink, going through the motions without thought.
The hairstyle made my features seem even more severe and the hair felt heavy, but I didn’t even consider leaving it in a braid down my back like I’d been wearing it at the cabin.
Unconsciously, I fell back into the patterns I’d lived by my entire life.
After I was dressed, I picked up my dirty clothes from the floor and folded them neatly.
Handling the ripped tights was a stark reminder that in a few hours I’d probably be right back in the cabin.
Quietly, I pulled open the drawer again and stole a few more hair ties, stuffing them in the pocket of my dirty dress.
I left the bathroom and followed Aunt Lacy back out of the house with a sense of unreality that I couldn’t shake. As we climbed back in the car my heart began to race. Where in the world were they taking me?
“Just going to make sure everything’s going the way it should,” Aunt Lacy said, turning to look at me as we pulled into a small parking lot.
“You’re taking me to the doctor?” I asked in confusion, staring at the sign on the building.
“Just a quick check up,” she replied.