Chapter 16 Part 2

      Carol Anne laid stock still in her bed with her hands resting on her stomach, her eyes looking at the wall mounted TV but not registering what was playing. She had some vague recollection of some infomercial about some BB cream that would take 5 years off the looks of your skin if you used it. Passing pictures of women with various facial discolouration’s and imperfections spreading the cream all over themselves and granted Carol Anne thought the transformation was amazing, at the same time it looked like they we slathering mud on their faces. After about five or so minutes of watching the insanity and pearly white happy smiles, her mind started to wander. Wandering to a place where she was free and one of those happy smiling people. With that thought wedged into her brain she began to plan her escape and hopefully leave nothing to chance.

    It shouldn’t be that hard, she thought to herself. She could wait until he went to work and call a cab or even a car service, by the time he found out she was gone she could be anywhere, but where would she go and with what? No using credit cards on top of that for the cash she would need, Carol Anne would need a bank at some point and since he had all of her passwords and pin numbers he could track her that way. Thinking back she questioned why she never kept anything to herself. He even held the key to her safety deposit box stating that she would lose it. Why had she been so stupid?

    Even as she hated herself for staying this long the one thing she would never let him have was the inheritance that her parents left her. Sure he had control of it but on paper it was still all hers. The house, the money all of it except what he made and thanks to the prenup before the wedding those things would never be his and she was not giving any of it up.

    He would have to kill her to get it.

    The flickering light of the TV did nothing to calm her down or distract her, if fact she almost wished she would have a seizure and end it all. Her mind continued to turn with possible ways to pull this off. He went through all of the phone records, banking even the shopping receipts so he knew where she was or what she was doing at any given moment.

    Most of the time she would have the groceries delivered if he couldn’t take her into town and the cameras in the house recorded exactly how long the delivery person was there. The only places there were no cameras were in the bathrooms, the attic and the basement and only because Robert didn’t want a record of the two latter areas. Carol Anne always wondered if he really was sincere when he apologized after punishing her but now she didn’t care. She felt cold and was done caring, now was the time to get it together and play this all very carefully.

    Thankfully Robert didn’t know about the incognito window on her Chrome account and she knew how to delete internet files but what she had to figure out was how to go about scrambling the computer and possibly taking out the cameras and getting access to her accounts. He would have to take her into town so she could get anything she needed and even then he would take note of everything she bought. Maybe there was a place to hide it? There was some cash that she had been stowing away thanks to him leaving change and even bills in his pants that she would find when she did laundry but not nearly enough. Even discouraged, she valued the little things and knew with growing certainty that she was getting out of this.

    She thought of her brother and how he might be able to help her, but Robert wouldn’t even let her talk to him anymore let alone tell him where they lived and they really weren’t far from him at all. Their trips into town always made her hope that she would see him coincidentally while she sat in the park with her expensive latte that she didn’t even like. She took a deep breath and winced as her ribs protested slightly and she promised herself she wouldn’t cry over the sibling she was so desperate to see.

    Robert stepped into the room with a tray of Tuna sandwiches on Sourdough bread just like they used to eat in their cramped studio apartment they shared while they were in college. A blue teapot sat on the green tray as well with only 1 teacup and a tiny bowl of sugar.

    “Hey, you’re up…good.” His voice was gentle, almost like he hadn’t just used her as a punching bag less than 24 hours earlier. When she didn’t reply he tilted his head and stared at her. Carol Anne saw that his eyes were about to glaze over so in a sweet soft voice she replied. “I’m sorry.” It was barely a whisper and she chose her words carefully. “When I talk or breathe in too deeply, it hurts.” She drew out the last words and he came back online placing the tray stand over her legs and easing himself down onto the bed as gently as he could. The anger that was bubbling inside of her started to boil and despite the rolling of her stomach when he placed a monogrammed napkin under her chin, she was able to keep herself in check.

    He reached over and pointed at the food on the tray arranged so nicely. “I made you a sandwich…just the way you like it.” She smiled like an innocent waif at him. “I brought you tea, I know you like Chai but I figured Chamomile would help you rest.” As he sat beside her and pointed out the things that she liked and reminded her again of the man that he used to be; the feelings changed and as she watched his profile, his words became soundless and the anger boiling up…and turned to rage.

Chapter 5 Part 3 - Revised

    Skye had been signing the release papers as Barrett said his parting words. Anger began again to build up inside of her. Her eyes trying to see through the door he had just exited. She had to leave now before she did something she would regret and end up in a cell herself. Cyrus only looked at her and said nothing, he knew show she felt and shared that same feeling. Their common bond in anger and frustration soften Skye to the point where she let out long tired sigh, the action letting Cy know it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Slowly he took her by the elbow and led her away from the counter and towards the door.

   The moist, damp air outside the police station seemed to snap Skye out of her daze and she refocused herself on her son whom she just retrieved. Cyrus felt his mother’s eyes on him, lowered his head and picked up his pace jogging down the stairs to get to the car. She walked behind him at a normal pace despite wanting to get in the car and spinning the tires out of there. She kept her pace and said nothing until she was in the car and locked the doors.

Unfortunately the storm hadn’t calmed down as much as they both hoped it did.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” She screamed at him. “Why in God’s name would you sneak out…” she paused “OK the sneaking out part makes sense and even the girls make sense but…” She could barely say the next part. “Why were there drugs?” Cyrus tensed but said nothing twisting his hands together while hiding his face behind the long hair that framed his young face.

   “Cyrus…” her voice held a firm warning. Cyrus leaned his head back on the headrest and let out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped. “I didn’t do any drugs mom, I promise.” He paused and took a deep breath to continue. “He said I was just there to keep the other girl company. That’s all. I had no idea there were drugs on him until we got pulled over.” Skye put her hands on the steering wheel and flexed her fingers. Flex, release, flex, release her mind was assessing his words and deciding if she should believe him. He had never lied to her about anything serious so her heart spoke up and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

   Cyrus whose eyes closed, opened them and looked at his mother sitting ramrod straight, her gaze straight ahead. He wanted to ask her if she was going to start the car and take him home. He was so tired and knew that this conversation was not over. Unsure of what to say all he managed was “Um…Mom?” Her head tilted slightly and she let out a soft sigh.  Finally Skye put the key in the ignition without turning the car on and turned to Cyrus instead. “Look…” she said, “I am not pleased about this and we are definitely not done here. I want to know who you were with and why there were drugs in the car, I know that you know more than you’re saying.” She paused and sighed again. “I want you to tell me everything that happened up until you got stopped by the cops and taken in, but not now.”

   She looked at him now and saw the sweet boy that she loved and he nodded in agreement. “I will tell you everything mom, I just want to go home.” He replied. Satisfied with the response, Skye started the car and backed out of the stall she had parked in. As she pulled up to the edge of the road to turn right towards home she turned on her blinker and lazily scanned the street. A dark coloured car parked across the street that looked like the driver was reclined and sleeping behind the wheel.

   Somewhere in Skye’s mind it struck her as odd for someone to be taking a nap outside the station but what did she know. It was more likely that it didn’t register after everything that had happened so far this early morning because it was unimportant. 

Chapter 4 Part 2 - Revised

   Skye didn’t know Kyra was upstairs crying. Usually the first thing she would have done would be to go check the kids, find out how their day was and tell them about hers. Today though…what would she say? If she had gone upstairs and seen her daughter in the state she was in she would have taken Kyra in her arms and told her everything would be alright. Tonight…was different, she had no idea if it was going to be alright and she was exhausted even though the day didn’t seem overly eventful except for her queasiness at the Flea Market and the creepy old woman, which actually made her feel like she hadn’t slept in days.

   With her back against the front door she felt her body begging to rest. Sleep was calling her but she couldn’t go to bed just yet. Holding the box tucked under her arm she mustered up the last of her rapidly depleting energy, pushed herself forward and shuffled to the kitchen. The light over the stove casted a dim light that slightly illuminated the hall. It would flicker every now and then making an eerie hum that she heard all the time but never seemed to notice until right now, and that just made it louder in the empty room.

    As she shuffled forward Skye felt something hard hit the side of her foot and realized she had kicked one of Angels hard rubber balls down the remaining length of the hall into the kitchen. Not a moment later the stocky dog came tearing around the corner from the living room to chase it. Her nails ticking on the hardwood she began sliding around the corner, her hind legs slipped out from underneath her making her loose her balance and she slid butt first into the wall. Angel didn’t stop for a second as she scrambled to her feet and kept on running almost knocking Skye’s left leg out from under her.

   Skye caught her balance by shooting her hand out to the wall and let out a soft sigh, it’s not like it’s the first time Angel has almost given her an injury. Most of the time if she’s in the kitchen especially cooking angel will lay right behind her and if she’s not paying attention and steps backwards everything goes flying and Skye is toppling ass over tea kettle to the floor and the dog doesn’t move. Continuing her way to the kitchen she set the box on the center island counter top that Deacon had designed before he died.

   The granite floors contrasted well with the stark white island and the hunter green walls. He had insisted on a dark kitchen stating that he hated the way everyone else would go for pale colours or whites and yellows. He said that because the kitchen faced south there was no need for a light kitchen with the sun streaming into it all day, so Skye let him have his way and it turned out very well. She felt the sting of memory threatening her and struggled to push it down. Too much has happened without him and her heart hurt every time she thought about him because the pain was still so raw.

    “Why am I so tired?” she said to herself in hopes that it would distract her from thinking about Deacon. “Maybe some tea before bed will help.”  She muttered. She turned towards the kettle on the opposite counter beside the fridge and Angel was sitting in the doorway with her ball in her mouth, tail swishing from side to side and small strands of drool starting to dangle from it as she stood watching her human. Skye smiled slightly “Bed, Angel.”  Angel cocked her head sideways, dropped the ball,  stood up and left the room Skye could hear her chains jingling as she found her bed and fell silent.

   Skye sighed and turned her attention back to the kettle and with had a sudden feeling of detachment, like she was hovering outside her body it was as if she was drifting until abruptly… it stopped. She wavered with her finger over the button to turn on the kettle and right then she changed her mind about the tea. “Screw it, where’s the wine.”

   The cabinet beside the refrigerator with the wine glasses in it was exactly what she wanted more than anything else right now. She made her way towards it picking up the box off the counter in a swift movement and moved it to the top of the cabinet.  She took out a glass and a bottle of Pinot Noir something cheap she found at a Beer and Wine store nearby and headed upstairs to bed. As soon as she got to the stairs Kona was waiting for her at the top, his thick tail swishing from side to side in anticipation of trying to get up onto the bed as soon as she was asleep. He did it all the time and knowing that made her feel better.

   In the kitchen, on the top shelf of the cabinet…the box vibrated gently…

Chapter 4 Part 1 - Revised

    Kyra heard her mother come home and felt comforted for a moment, and then she remembered the sketchbook on the end of her bed that she had been trying to avoid all night. She told herself that she had forgotten to put it away this morning but after the sudden feeling of unease when she looked at her last sketches came over her, she put the book down and left the room.

    She gave it only a passing glance now as she shifted her eyes over to the antique dresser drawer where she usually kept it. The dresser had 5 drawers, 3 long on the bottom with 2 shorter drawers on top. With its antique yellow colour, each corner of the drawer faces had black leaves attached to each other by an aged, frayed golden cord that was used to pull them open. The top left drawer was where her sketchbook was kept unless she was using it. Drawing had been something that her father had gotten her into at a young age. He fed off of her excitement when he would bring her home more art supplies. When he brought her felts she almost floated to the ceiling. Kyra had tried painting but that had been a bust as she couldn’t grasp blending the liquid colours in a way that would make a pretty picture the way they were supposed to. Now she loved charcoal.

    From her spot on the floor where she sat with her back against the door she could see the first sketch she ever did of her dad ripped from the first sketchbook he gave her. He gave her a new one every year that was bound in leather so that she only put her most perfect drawings in those ones while she would practice in the ordinary cardboard covered ones. She was on her 4^th book now. She had taken the picture that she had drawn of him feeling so proud and happy with her work and taped up above her head on the wall above her bed so she could see him always before she slept. All of the lines were squiggly and dramatic as she tried to show him how good of an artist she was at nine…she wasn’t that good then but he smiled and was enthusiastic about the job she had done. After that she practiced all of the time. All she would do was draw for hours and hours Practice made her better and now Kyra Dune could not remember a time when she didn’t draw.

    She leaned forward so she could unfold her legs from underneath her to stand. They were numb from sitting on them for so long and pins and needles started to form as soon as she uncrossed them. She thought about her mother downstairs.

    ‘I should talk to her’ she thought ‘talk to her and tell her how much I miss daddy’. 

    Kyra hadn’t spoken since just after her father’s funeral where she told Savannah to sit up straight and take the hair out of her mouth at St. Paul’s, sitting right up front with her mother and Cyrus. It wasn’t a big church but it fit the few friends and family that had attended.

    Even her Great Uncle Dominic had come surrounded by men as he always was. She remembered seeing one or two of them before when she visited the pawn shop he owned on the other side of town. The tall red-blonde haired one whose voice never rose above a whisper any time she had seen him had leaned in and said something in her Uncles ear. She noticed that his eyes never stopped moving around the room no matter what he was doing.

    The funeral seemed to take forever for Kyra that day. All of the endless ‘I’m sorry’s’ and condolences lost their feeling after she had watched them lower her father’s casket into the ground. That was when the talking stopped and the silent tears began. Her mother’s knees buckling as Cyrus held her against him. Savannah sitting in the grass getting her dress dirty while she looked for a 4 leaf clover, the white calla lilies resting on the top of the big box her father’s lifeless body was in. There was no viewing and that was good because Kyra didn’t want to see that. Everything was too painful to talk about so she just stopped trying to get the words out at all.

    Now she wished she could say something…anything… that would make her mother happy, but when Kyra opened her mouth and tried to form the words nothing would come out. She wanted so badly to tell her that she loved her and she tried over and over again when Skye would ask her questions but she just couldn’t get her voice box to work.

    The disappointment she saw on her mother’s face at those times broke her heart and Kyra felt powerless against her body when she tried, so most times she gave up on the effort. She gave up drawing because she would hear its voice in her head. A stern voice, an awful one telling her that she was not to say a word. It was a dark presence for her and at first she thought it was her father’s voice in her head and the happiness bloomed in her so fiercely that she thought it was a sign of something good. In the beginning it was soothing to her but as time went on it changed into something sinister and dark that crept in and scared her.

    Kyra knew she needed to tell her mother. ‘Write it down!’ her brain would scream at her and she would pick up a pencil but the words never appeared. What would she say? They would think she was sick or crazy, that’s what the voice would tell her. “They will lock you away and never come back.” It would say “You and I together…forever.” There was no way she was going to let that happen so she could only draw and didn’t want to anymore. It wanted her to draw too.

 He would just come closer.

   She didn’t know how long she was staring at the sketchbook from across the room, her feet dragged her forward to the bed once she got there through no will of her own she leaned over and her fingers brushed the leather cover. It felt cold and distant not full of the joy and warmth that it used to hold for her most of all the comfort. She decided not to dawdle about it, picked it up and crossed the room to her dresser where she yanked the draw open and dumped it in on top of the her other drawing tools.

 She wished her mother was here. She wished her father was here.

 Kyra looked in the mirror and started to cry.

Chapter 2 Part 1 - Revised

    Skye saw the big heavy glass double doors in front of her and stopped before them. She thought of how funny it was that doors could be intimidating. Anxious about what was on the other side of them she felt her heart start to pound again and she wondered briefly if she was ever going to get it together. ‘What if they say no?’ rose up in her mind. She never thought it would ever come to this, not in a million years. Deacon had died without having any life insurance thus leaving her to drain their savings account to put him at rest.

     She does not talk to his family much anymore, not that there were many of them to reach out to and with everyone living so far apart, it seemed normal not to be in touch that often. His parents only came out and see the kids a few times a year and she would like to keep it that way. They always seemed withdrawn and distant to her but with the kids they were always awestruck by them and catered to whatever whim their grandchildren presented to them. Deacon has an uncle that lives nearby. Dominic Dune he owns a pawnshop on the south side of town and is the only person out of Deacons family that she does talk to and still that isn’t often.

     He is the black sheep of the family. Deacons’ father and Dominic don’t speak to or of each other. Skye had asked in passing many times why that was and Deacon would just smile that ‘it was not a priority’ and in his typical way to divert attention from something he didn’t want to talk about, he would lay her down and distract her attention in the most fantastic ways.

    Shaking herself of the painful memory Skye took a deep breath, she gathered herself and step towards the big glass doors. With her hand on the door handle, she prepared herself to go inside the building despite every fiber of herself burning to run.  Instead she pulled herself together yet again and pulled the door open. As she opened it she could hear the sounds of clicking keys on keyboards and soft voices filling her head and she stood there doe eyed and concerned.

    Just then a stout blonde woman over in a blocked off area to the right of the main floor glanced over at her. Above her head was a sign the read Loans Department. Her look was smug as she returned her gaze to the computer screen in front of her and goes back to typing. In no way did that make Skye feel better. The woman is explaining to an older man with a bowler hat in front of her that he cannot get an appointment for another 2 days.

   “This is bullshit!” the man growls “I’ve been here waiting for nearly an hour to hear you tell me that I have to come back in 2 more days?” The woman continues to look at her screen and says with more than a hint of sarcasm, “Sir as I have already told you, the loan officers are booked solid for appointments until then.” She pauses and adds loud enough for everyone to hear, “and if you don’t calm down then I will have security come and escort you out of the building.” He reddens in his cheeks even though you can tell that he is not the type to back down from a confrontation but exhales and the tension eases. Through lips that barely moved he asked, “What times do you have available?”

    She looks pleased with herself and hands him a slip of paper with a smirk on her face, just as he takes the slip of paper from her under his breath he mutters, “If you don’t like your job then don’t do it.” then turns with surprising grace and heads out the doors grumbling along the way about how no one really helps when it’s needed. Before he walks out of the building he turns and gives the woman the finger, then walks out.

    Skye scanned the room for the end of the long line and took a place behind a young girl that looked to be about 18-20 years old with a visible baby bump and remembered herself at that age. The line moved easily and smoothly as people who had seen the conflict with the receptionist had no desire to have the same confrontation ahead of them that the man with the bowler hat had. They accepted what she told them with no trouble, booking appointments if they had to and leaving or sitting quietly until their time came.

    Just then she thought about bolting… again. “What is wrong with me?” she said out loud and the young girl turned to her with a look of curiosity on her face. All she had to do was turn around and walk out but, she couldn’t do it. She had to stay and do this and she absolutely hated asking anyone for anything. Before she could stop it anger trickled up her spine and hitting home in her brain as she thought about how Deacon could leave them like this. Like it was his fault they were in trouble…but it wasn’t his fault at all, it was just a case of ‘wrong place, wrong time’. This was her last resort in the hopes of keeping a roof over their heads. Without the bank giving me an extension we would lose the store, the house, the car and everything they had left.

There was no way she could do that to them.

    ‘Thank god I had an appointment’ her thoughts relieved or else she would have lost it herself if I was told to come back days later.  At this moment it was now or never and she chose now, no backing out, no running away. Skye didn’t like banks in general or the people in banks. Once they decided that they were going to run a business themselves Deacon had set up everything and made sure they made it work, not that she couldn’t do it but she was always better at running the day to day things while he took care of the paperwork and meetings that made her head spin.

   

    Her thoughts began to spiral out of control the longer she waited to get to the desk. Thought that centered on last thing the kids needed is to change anything else in their lives. Cyrus had the hardest time with it being the oldest at 15 and losing his father he withdrew into himself for a while, he was constantly angry and vocal about it. He was just starting to come out again. Kyra being 13 with what seems like all of the responsibility piled on her tiny shoulders and tried her best to take charge and mother Savannah, helping Skye when she would let her help and that wasn’t often. A child so young should not have to be the parent and the whole time she didn’t speak but Kyra was tough and it forced Skye out of the dark place she was in.

    Skye must have drifted while in her thoughts because the line was moving forward but she wasn’t and hadn’t even noticed that there was a large space between herself and the pregnant girl. As she tried to make it look like she hadn’t completely tuned out of the moment, Skye moved forward and again stood about a foot and a half away from the young mother to be. The woman behind her did not look amused but then again; no one in the area looked amused.  Finally the young girl walked up to the counter, spoke the receptionist or whatever she was and was given a clipboard with a form to fill out and she walked away.

    Skye stayed where she was until the receptionist was ready for her and motioned her over. When she lifted her bobble head with her blonde bob haircut that framed her round face and nodded in her direction, Skye stepped up to the counter. Gathering her resolve and not wanting her dread of this moment to show she straightened her spine and stood tall.

    “Hi, I have an appointment with Mr. Moody.” The bobble head bobbled as checked her computer, “Your name please?” For a second she blanked out and then recovered “Skylar Dune” she replied. After checking her computer again the blonde bobble head asked her to take a seat.

    She picked a chair next to the pregnant girl with the clipboard feeling like they had some mutual understanding of surviving the woman at the counter and she started to feel a bit better about the situation. She couldn’t pinpoint why but a thought rolled through her head. ‘I can do this’ it repeated like it was on a teleprompter.

She hated waiting, hated it so much she became more irritated with each second that ticked by.