Kill Me If You Can

25

I headed straight to the checkout. The lady gave me a strange look when she got to the diapers and wipes, like I had no business being a mother. I played it cool.

“Those are for my nephew,” I said, stumbling over my fabrication. “He’s coming for a visit.”

She nodded and ran the canned goods past the laser. “How old is he?”

“Umm, almost two, I think.”

She barely glanced up as she held the cereal boxes to the barcode reader. “Those diapers are for six to twelve months. Are you sure you got the right size?”

“Ahh, yeah. He was premature.”

“Okay. If you messed up, you can return them as long as they’re not opened.”

“Thanks.”

She finished the last item and gave me the total.

My face flushed red as I scrambled to count my cash. “Oh my. Diapers cost a lot more than I thought. I’ll have to write you a check.”

“Sure, no problem.”

I scribbled the amount and signed the bottom. I passed it to her. The address box in the upper corner of the check practically blinked neon.

“You’re from Port Silvan, huh?” the woman asked.

“Yeah.” I didn’t elaborate.

“I’ve got relatives in Port Silvan. Maybe you know some of them—the Belmonts?”

I guzzled some air and ended up coughing. Belmont relatives? “Yeah. I’ve heard the name.”

“Here you go.” She passed me my receipt.

“Thanks.” I pushed the bagged groceries full speed toward the exit.

“Have a nice day.”

I was halfway to the sliding doors as she uttered the words.

My heart pounded in my ears as I started the Explorer. Abort mission. Abort mission, the rushing blood screamed. But all I could think about was Missy and her kids, held prisoner by a bunch of thugs. This was America. Nobody should have to live like that.

I pulled around to the delivery door. Missy sprinted out, Andrew and diaper bag in one hand, Hannah holding the other. The Coke deliveryman almost ran them over with his handcart.

“Sorry, sir,” I called through my open window. He disappeared inside the building. “Get in the back and lay on the floor.” I waved my arm to hurry them along.

They loaded up. At the slam of the door, I was off, heading back to US-2 like a getaway driver.

There was silence until we crossed the Manistique River.

“Mumma? How come we’re hiding on the floor?” Hannah’s tiny voice asked the question.

In a sudden flashback, the windshield in front of me morphed into the broad dash of my grandmother’s old Buick.

“Gram, how come we have to leave at night? Can’t we wait until tomorrow?” I had the voice of an eight-year-old.

Crickets chirped all around. Gram pressed me into the middle seat. Grandpa got in on my other side. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. Car doors slammed in the cool May air. The pointer slid to the D and the car moved forward in the blackness.

“There’s bad people here, Tish,” Grandma said. “Lots and lots of bad people. We’re leaving and we’re never coming back.”

“I want Mom.”

Grandma made a loud breath. “She’s dead. She killed herself. You’re going to have to live with that, just like the rest of us.”

“I want Mom.” My voice quivered and my face scrunched.

“You can’t undo what’s been done. Try not to think about it.”

I tried not to think about Mom being dead. And the harder I tried, the more the tears ran down my face and my nose leaked.

“Patricia Louise Amble, I can’t drive with you making all that noise.”

“Go easy on her, Eva,” Grandpa said. His words came out all jiggly, like they did when he drank too much beer.

“Don’t tell me what to do, you old drunk.”

Grandpa turned and looked out the window.

“I want Mom,” I said again. No one heard me. I looked over the seat and out the back window. The porch light disappeared behind the trees. It was the last time I saw the summerhouse.

From the back floor of the Explorer, Missy’s voice soothed Hannah. “Shh. Everything’s alright. We’re just playing a game of hide-and-seek. It’s our turn to hide. But only for a little while. Then everything will be back to normal.”

I cringed at the lie. It would never be back to normal. Ever. Not for them. Not for me.

I kept my eyes open for suspicious vehicles. Heart failure nearly set in when we passed the cop hidden at the downside of a passing lane. I checked the rearview, but he stayed parked on the shoulder.

I turned at the blinking yellow light that marked the route to Port Silvan. About four miles later, I eased down my driveway, wondering how I was going to explain my change of heart to Samantha.

The VW wasn’t at the house, so my roommate must have gotten the waitress slot at the Grille—and just when I needed her here to help me figure out what to do with my newly acquired guests. Surely Samantha had had some grand scheme in mind when she’d made the suggestion to hide Missy and the kids here at the lodge.

I pulled as close to the porch as I could get. Missy opened the door and scooted the kids inside. I parked and unpacked groceries. I caught up to Melissa in the living room a few minutes later.

“You guys can take one of the upstairs bedrooms. I don’t have furniture in there yet, but I’ll work on getting some,” I said.

Missy nodded. “We’ll need a crib for Andrew. Hannah can sleep in a bed with me.”

I slouched in the fuzzy gold armchair and looked at Missy sitting on the green sofa, hunching Andrew against her body. Hannah sat next to them, staring at the floor. Her little arms flopped at her sides. It made a forlorn picture. Three displaced persons. I wondered if I’d done the right thing.

“Thanks, by the way,” Missy said. “I don’t know how much longer I could take it. And with Drake getting out of jail soon . . .” Her words ceased with a guttural moan.

“How can Drake be getting out soon? He just went in.”

She nodded toward Hannah and shook her head.

“Sorry.” I realized the topic would have to be put on hold until later. I stood up and clapped once. “You guys get comfortable. I’ll get that room cleaned up. As soon as Sam gets back, I’ll drop by Goodwill and get those items. And some clothes too.”

Missy’s eyes grew big. “Wait a minute. Who’s Sam?” Her distrust of men was apparent in her tone.

“Sam is really Samantha. She’s a good friend of mine from downstate. She’s staying with me this summer.” I marveled at how natural the whole arrangement sounded when I gave it an upbeat flair. Looking back, I realized what a deadbeat I was, the way I’d been treating Sam.

Melissa visibly relaxed. “Okay. I think I’ll put Andrew down for a nap and maybe get a little rest myself.”

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”

I put together my cleaning supplies and headed upstairs. From the loft, I observed, fascinated, that kitchen stools made a comfy crib wall against the sofa. I kept the bumping and shuffling to a minimum while Andrew slept and Missy snoozed in the nearby armchair. Hannah had a picture book to keep her busy while the rest of the Belmonts crashed.

In the north wing, where my guests would be protected from the hot sun to come, I washed the light fixture and dusted the ceiling. Painting would have to come later. I wiped down the window and brushed off the paneling. Then I took the broom and mop and spruced up the floor.

Downstairs, I heard the kitchen door open—then slam shut with purpose.

“Hey, Tish! I’m home!” Samantha called.

Clearly she was still upset over my earlier bad manners. My delayed apology was about to cost the Belmont family a peaceful nap. I dropped my supplies and raced downstairs to warn Sam of the sleeping crew.

Too late. Andrew gave out a bellow that shook the walls. When I got to the bottom of the steps, Samantha stood at the living room arch, staring at the young family.

“Hi.” Surprise colored her voice. “Are you Melissa?”

Missy nodded as she comforted the baby.

Sam glanced at me, a touch of confusion on her face. Then she turned back to Missy. “Nice to meet you. I’m Samantha Walters. Sorry I woke up the gang.”

Melissa yawned and ran fingers through disheveled blonde hair. “It was time anyway.”

I gave a sheepish look in Sam’s direction. She returned a smile of forgiveness along with a mystified shake of her head.

Formal apology out of the way, I launched into explanation. “Sam, I heisted Missy and the kids from the grocery store in Manistique. I don’t know how long before someone comes looking for them. The crawl space is hard to spot through the bushes at the end of the house, if they need to hide. Now that you’re here, I’m going back to town for supplies.”

I made the drive back to Manistique. Once on the highway, I called my grandfather and told him the news.

“Patricia. That was not just stupid, that was extremely stupid. Your impulse might end in disaster.”

I was quiet as I processed his criticism. I’d been sure he’d support my actions. Wasn’t I holding up a torch for the cause too? Trees flew past in a blur. Maybe I’d just been trying to please Samantha with my spontaneous move. Guilt can make you do crazy things. I should have gathered more information before jumping into the flames. “I’m sorry, Puppa. There they were in the supermarket and Sam had just told me her idea for sneaking them to the lodge . . . I don’t know. It just seemed like the right thing at the time.”

A heavy sigh. “I’ll send Joel down to babysit until we figure out where to go from here.”

“Thanks, Puppa.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “It’ll be alright, won’t it?”

Prolonged silence. “It’ll be alright.”

I disconnected, then proceeded to give myself a mental beating for my reckless choices. About three-quarters of the way to town, I passed a vehicle that looked like Missy’s minivan. A balding, round-faced man with a goatee sat behind the wheel. I exhaled in relief. He was no Stick. Besides, what were the chances? It would have taken a good dose of intelligence to talk to the checkout girl, interrogate the Coke delivery man, peek around town, and be headed to the cottage already.

I parallel parked in front of the Goodwill store. The clerk helped me speed-shop for my items. Within a half hour, I was headed back to the lodge with a portable crib, a double futon with no frame, blankets, and three bags of clothes stuffed in the back of the SUV. I felt like a Welcome Wagon gone bonkers.

Joel’s car was parked in the driveway when I pulled up. I cut the engine. Joel came outside, Samantha close on his heels. Without a word, he opened the hatch and started hauling. Sam took one end of the futon as he hoisted it out.

“Hey, guys,” I said. “Thanks for helping.” I grabbed the paper bags and brought them in on the wake of the mattress. “I’m not so sure about this whole thing. How about you?”

Their answering silence underlined the gravity of my spur-of-the-moment decision. “Okay, so maybe I screwed up. You don’t have to shun me for it.”

We dumped the goodies in the upstairs bedroom. I’d expected to see Melissa and the kids, but they were nowhere in sight.

“Boy, am I nervous.” I unpacked the clothes and stacked them by size. “On my way to town, I thought I saw that Stick guy headed this way.” I laughed and shrugged. “But what are the chances of that?”

Sam smoothed sheets over the bed on the floor. Joel stalked out for another load.

Her eyes followed him.

“He came while you were gone.” Her voice was soft, with a touch of fear in it.

“Yeah, I know. I called Puppa and he said he’d have Joel come down to baby-sit.”

“Not Joel. That Stick guy. He came fifteen minutes after you left.”

My fingers straightened in a panic. “Where’s Melissa? Is she okay?”

Sam nodded. She crumpled to the edge of the mattress. “They’re in the crawl space. Joel pulled up just before Stick arrived. Joel kept him occupied while I snuck Missy and the kids into the crawl.” She leaned her head on her knees. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this, Tish. I’m scared.”

My instincts wanted to scream at her that the whole scheme was her idea to begin with. Instead, I reached an arm across her back. “We’re strong. We’ll get through this. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing either of us has ever done, but we have good intentions. Hopefully, God will honor that.”

Samantha blinked her eyes closed. “‘The Lord protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, he saved me.’” She whispered the words like a well-worn prayer. At my look, she elaborated. “It’s from the book of Psalms. Got me through my divorce.”

“Well, there you have it.” I stood up. “Now, come on. Let’s cook dinner and have a good meal. That’ll make everyone feel better.”

Having an audience certainly brought out the actress in me. Inside, I was scared to death.