[b]Chapter 10[/b]
[i]In a motel somewhere between Roswell and Santa Fe
Six weeks post Liz Parker's funeral[/i]
"What was that noise?" she wondered dimly. "Is someone knocking the door...? Can someone open the door?"
She slipped down into the mist again. A few minutes later she reached the edges of consciousness again. The thudding sound was still there. She could also feel an ache in her back...in her stomach...in her legs... She ached everywhere. After some consulting, she realized that what she heard was a heartbeat - her heartbeat. Where was she? She focused on getting through the thick mist that covered her. She wanted to open her eyes, but it felt as if someone had taped her eyelids down. She relaxed a little, trying to gather her energy. She slowly opened her eyes. The light was so blinding that she had to blink her eyes repeatedly to get used to it. She could see that she was in a room of some kind but the contours remained blurry, causing her to have difficulties to orient herself.
The soft material pressing up against her sore back told her that she was lying on a bed. She tried to remember where she was and why she was there. She lifted her head slightly and tried to look around the room. She could only lift her head for a few seconds - the motion caused her too much effort and pain. She closed her eyes as she let her head fall back on the pillow and gave into the darkness.
During the following days, Liz continued to drift in and out of consciousness. She could consider herself lucky to have neither Tess nor Nasedo in the room as she came out of the unconsciousness. She was slowly growing stronger. Then one day, approximately five days after she first had came to, she opened her eyes and looked around. She was in what looked like a motel room. There was a large bed, the one she was lying in, and a red worn-out arm-chair across the room. There were three doors - one leading to what appeared to be the kitchen, one leading to a bathroom and the third was the front door. She sat up slowly and fought back the dizziness. She pulled the bed covers off her body and swinged her legs over the edge of the bed. She stopped for a while, gathering her energy, then she tried to stand up. Her legs were so weak. They hadn't been used in a long time and the deterioration of her muscles had already begun. The constant dull aching in her back didn't help the situation much either.
She refused to give up, she continued the process of standing up, only to fall back on the bed again - her weak legs not being able to support her weight. However, her efforts soon paid off and she soon found herself standing, swaying on legs that felt as weak as boiled spaghetti. She felt something tug at her arm and as she looked at her arm she saw a needle embedded in the skin at the back of her right hand. Connected to the needle was a long thin tube with its other end in a plastic bag, hanging from a hook at the end of a metal stand. She realized that was what had supplied her with nourishment during her unconscious state. She took a grip of the stand (which was equipped with wheels) and began on shaking legs to walk around the room. Her first trip was over to the front door, which she found to be locked. She visited the toilet and took pleasure in washing her face with cold water. Feeling refreshed she went into the kitchen and started rummaging around the refrigerator after something to eat. She found some bottles of Tabasco sauce, two cans of cherry coke, some carrots, a loaf and a bottle with sour milk. She took the loaf and a can of cherry coke and sat down by the table.
The tabled was covered in newspapers, and she pushed them away to make room. She opened the can and broke a piece of bread from the loaf. The bread was a bit dry, probably as old as everything else in the refrigerator. She relished the feeling of bread in her mouth. Even though it was old, it tasted like heaven to her. She had to put much effort into chewing the hard bread - her muscles not having been used in a while. Ten minutes later, she was full. She put the remaining loaf back into the refrigerator and threw the empty can in the trash can. For some (instinctive) reason, she figured it was best not to leave any traces. She made her way over to the bed and laid down. That's when she heard the key in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
She could hear two voices, a female and a male. They were fighting.
"I'm getting fed up with this," the male said. "You have to work faster."
"I try to, but I have only recently been able to even get through to him," the female answered, annoyance in her voice. "But I'm telling you. He will soon fall for me and then we don't need her anymore." She got a feeling that they were discussing her. "Why don't we kill her right away?"
"We have to be sure. From what I'm seeing, you're not any closer to him than you were before her faked death."
She got a feeling that it was her destiny that was being discussed.
"Well, I'm not staying here," the female said. "The whole group is going out tonight, and I'm invited. It helps to be buddies with Kyle."
She flinched at the sound of the name. It sounded familiar. Where had she heard that name before?
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," the male said. There was a sound as the front door was opened and then closed. She was alone with the man.
"I'm getting so fed up with this fucking planet," the male murmured.
-----------------------------------------------.
During the following week, she memorized their routines. Which times they came back and at which times they left. She slowly regained her strength and she was only waiting for one of them to screw up. She got her chance one morning when the rain was pattering against the roof. After a short phone call, the man left in a hurry. She listened for the sound of the key turning in the lock, but it never came. He had forgotten to lock the door! She laid still for a few minutes - in case he would remember that he had forgotten to lock and come back. When nothing happened she rose from the bed and made her way over to the front door. She slightly opened it and peeked outside. The fresh cool wind, with the smell of rain hit her in the face. She drew a deep breath - breathing in the scent of freedom. Without further hesitation, she opened the door and stepped outside. It was pouring down, but that didn't matter to her. She was free.
She had walked for hours in the rain. She was exhausted, cold and wet. But she knew that she couldn't stop. She had to keep going, or they would find her. She was afraid to walk along the road, in case her kidnappers decided to drive by. Instead, she had been forced to cross the rough vegetation out in the middle of the desert. She soon saw a petrol station in the horizon. When she came closer she saw a sign that read 'Motel - Bed and Breakfast'. She knew that she had not covered as large distance by foot as she could have done if she had hitch-hiked, and that she probably took a big risk stopping to sleep so close to her previous imprisonment. She was hightly aware of the fact that she was making herself an easy target. But it was getting dark and she was hungry, tired, wet and cold. She had to rest. She had found some money in the motel room which she had held hidden under the mattress. Every time the male put some money somewhere, she had taken some of it. Fortunately, he hadn't noticed that anything was missing.
He was a tall middle aged man. He was not grazed with a handsome appearance, but he was not judged by his exterior by the people that knew him. He was a liked man. A simple man, with a heart of gold. He had his entire life held a dream about some day opening a restaurant. A bed and breakfast was the second best thing. He took much pride of his motel. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading as he heard the door jingle.
There, in front of the door stood a small girl, completely drenched. She reminded him of the kittens his brother used to throw into the lake when they were young - just for the fun of it. Her clothes barely covered her. She had a skirt on, but it was torn in at least three places. What was left of what had earlier probably been a blouse was only rags. Her eyes appeared extremely large in her gaunt face. She slowly made her way over to the counter. The man couldn't help himself from staring.
His staring made her very uncomfortable and she tried a small smile.
"Hi, I would..." then she had to clear her throat - she had not used her voice in a long time, "I would like a room."
"Ahh...yes, of course," the man stuttered. It was a miracle to him that the girl could still stand up straight. He took out a small notebook and a pencil from under the counter.
"Can I have your name, dear?" he asked.
"Of course," she smiled but then grew silent. The man watched as the smiled slipped of her face.
"Miss?" he asked tentatively.
"I-I..I can't remember," she answered. The man looked at the girl sympathetically. God only knew what she had been through.
"It can wait until the morning," the man said reassuringly. The girl nodded but he noticed that her mind was somewhere else, perhaps searching the memory, which held her identity. "How long do you wish to stay?"
The girl looked up. "Oh..only one night I guess," Liz said.
"Okay then," the man said and scribbled something down in his note book before he turned towards a large board with a lot of hooks with keys hanging from them and took one of the keys. "Room 56. We serve breakfast at seven." He handed her the key and he noticed her hand trembling as she accepted the key.
"Thanks," she said and smiled the first real smile since she had arrived. The smile did wonders to her face and the man thought that she must have been beautiful before her life somehow got messed up. "How much do I owe you?" she asked.
"You can pay when you check out," he said.
She nodded, turned around and walked up to the door. She opened the door to walk out, shivering as the cold, moist air hit her.
"Miss, wait!" The man cried, and left his place behind the counter stepping up beside her. "Here, take my umbrella."
She looked up at the kind man and then down to his hand, which held a blue umbrella.
"Thank you," she said softly.
The man merely nodded his head with a smile. The girl left the reception, put up the umbrella and headed for the house on the other side of the parking lot which housed the rooms.
----------------------------------------------------.
She was there the following day at seven o'clock sharp.
"Good morning," the man greeted her.
"Good morning," she smiled. The man noticed that she looked much better today. The dark circles under her eyes were not as evident any longer and her hair was washed and combed. However, she still wore the same tags and he realized that she probably didn't own any more than what she had worn yesterday.
"Let me show you to the dining area," the man said and led the way.
The dining area was large and bright, with large windows letting in the light of the morning sun. The smell of newly baked bread reached her and her stomach rumbled. A little embarrassed she lowered her gaze to the floor.
"Hungry, huh?" the man asked with a smile. The girl looked up and met his gaze and as she nodded and held his gaze, he could see a piece of the strong girl she had once been.
"Then you've come to the right place," the man said.
In the middle of the dining area a part of the floor was occupied by a large table. The surface of the table was covered by plates filled with new baked loafs and buns, butter, cheese, jam, peanut butter, fresh fruit, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and pots of tea and coffee - yes, you name it and it certainly was on that table! An old woman, about seventy years old walked in, carrying a plate of crackers.
"This is my mother," the man said to the girl.
"Hi sweety," the woman said. "I'm Sarah. You sure look hungry, why don't you serve yourself and make yourself comfortable."
The girl didn't see the look that passed between the elderly woman and her son. The man had discussed the girl with his mother the other night. The discussion had concerned if they ought to call the police. There was a large possibility that she was yet another runaway and that she had parents waiting for her somewhere, waiting for her to come home and going out of their minds with worry. However, it seemed kind of weird that she had decided to run away without any change of clothes. And why did she look like she had been in an accident? The thing that had puzzled both Sarah and her son the most was that the girl hadn't remembered her name. Sure, she could have been faking it - but hadn't it been more inconspicuous to come up with fake name?
The girl grabbed a plate and started to fill it with food. The smell of food made her mouth water and she could barely wait to put her teeth into thatt bread. Her hands were quick, the movements of a starving woman, as she piled this and that on her plate. She took the plate and sought out a place by the windows. She slowly sat down, her back still aching. Yesterday, when she was about to take a shower, she had found her whole back and stomach from underneath her breast to her waist muffled up in bandage. When she unwound it from her body, and was about to step into the shower, her eyes caught the reflection of her back in the mirror. Her back looked scorched. Stepping closer to the mirror, she was surprised to see that in the middle of the semi-healed burns she thought she saw the contours of a handprint. The much longed shower was not as a nice experience as she had wanted it to be. She was forced to use humid water - almost cold - to lessen the stinging in the flesh of her burnt back.
As she ate, her thoughts once again floated back to the fact that she couldn't remember who she was or what had happened to her. She had no memory at all. She could not recall any family members, or any names. She didn't even recognize the girl that looked back at her in the mirror. Although it held some sense of familiarity. Her small stomach was quickly filled and she regretted that she hadn't had the opportunity to taste it all.
Sarah watched the girl out of the corner of her eye. She had eaten like someone was going to snatch the food away from her at any moment. However, she had not eaten much. Sarah stepped up to the girl, who was now staring out the window - lost in her own thoughts.
"Can I get you anything else, dear?" Sarah asked. The girl jumped, startled by her voice. She looked up and met the woman's old and wise eyes.
"No, thank you. It was wonderful and I'm completely full," she said.
"You know," Sarah said and took the place beside the girl, "I have a daughter about your size. Would you be willing to accept some clothes?"
She looked down at her clothes. She had winded herself up in the bandage again, more due to the fact that it was an effective warmth insulator than a comfortable article of clothing. Her other clothes, she must admit, was not a beautiful sight. She would gladly accept the old woman's offer, but she didn't like the thought of being a charity case.
"That is very kind of you," she said. "But then you have to let me pay something for it."
"No, of course not..," but stopped when she saw the look in that girl's eyes. Sarah realized that it was the only piece of honor that the girl had left - to be able to pay for herself - and Sarah wouldn't let her lose that too.
"Sure," Sarah said. "Why don't yu follow me!"
-------------------------------------------------.
They were now standing in a bedroom on the second floor and clothes were spread over the bed and floor. Sarah was rummaging through her daughter's closet. During the course of an hour clothes had been held up in front of the girl only to be removed as the clothes had been labelled to be of the wrong size.
"Elizabeth had a phase when she was slightly overweight and I guess these are those clothes..."
But the girl wasn't listening anymore. Elizabeth. There was something strangely familiar with that name. Sarah looked up to see why she hadn't gotten any response. The small girl was staring out into the air, her thoughts miles away.
"Are you all right, dear?" Sarah asked.
"Elizabeth," the girl murmured. "Was that your daughter's name?"
"Yes, that is my daughter's name," Sarah said proudly. "She is living in Arizona now - with two of the most beautiful chil..." Sarah's voice trailed off as she saw that the girl was once again lost to another world.
"I think that was my name," the girl whispered, almost inaudible.
"What was that, dear?" Sarah asked - her hearing not being what it once was.
"I remember that name Elizabeth...and I think that it was my name," the girl repeated softly, with a sparkle in her eye that Sarah hadn't seen before.
"Well, welcome back Elizabeth," Sarah said, smiling.
The girl seemed to think about it for a moment and then she was smiling from ear to ear.
"Yes, I think I was Elizabeth," she said.
"Okay then, Elizabeth. If it's okay with you, I think you have to wear clothes that are slightly too large, since it seems as if I can't find anything better here."
"Yes, of course," the girl now called Elizabeth said, without being able to stop smiling.
"Here, take this," Sarah said and handed Elizabeth a bra and a pair of underwear. "See that door over there? That door leads to a bathroom - you can change there."
"Okay, thanks," Elizabeth said, took the under garments and disappear in the bathroom.
Elizabeth started to undress and slipped into the soft underwear. She took off her old bra and put on the new one. It smelled of detergent and was soft against her skin. She looked at herself in the mirror and then started to unwind the bandage.
Sarah put down the shirt on the bed and once again let her eyes drift to the closed bathroom door. She wondered once again if everything was all right in there. The girl had been in there for a long time. Then she heard the retching. She left what she was doing and quickly walked up to the door.
"Elizabeth, are you okay, dear?" she asked but got no reply.
She opened the door slightly and peeked inside to find Elizabeth on the floor in front of the toilet. She was kneeling by the toilet, her head resting in her hands. But it wasn't the fact that she could see the ribs very clearly in Elizabeth's back or the protruding bones of her spine that showed clear signs of undernourishment that caught Sarah's attention. It was the scorched skin of her back that caught Sarah's eyes. The girl had been burnt, very badly. Putting her horror for the girl aside, Sarah walked up to the hunched girl and kneeled beside her.
"Are you all right, Elizabeth?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine...just fine," Elizabeth said, unknowingly showing signs of the old Liz Parker and her slight inability to ask for help or talk about her feelings.
"Let me help you up," Sarah said. "You could catch pneumonia sitting here on this cold floor." Automatically Sarah put an arm around Elizabeth's back to support her weight, but pulled it away just as quickly when she saw Elizabeth wince from the touch to her burnt back.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear," Sarah said regretfully, "I should have thought about that."
"That's okay," Elizabeth said reassuringly, "You didn't know."
Elizabeth put one of her hands in Sarah's and the other against the cool surface of the toilet and then pulled herself up. Elizabeth straightened up and winced a little as the inelastic skin of her back moved with the motion.
As Elizabeth straightened up - dressed only in a pair of underwear and a bra - Sarah eyes fell on Elizabeth's stomach and she suddenly understood more why this girl was on her own.
"How far along are you?" she asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, puzzled, looked up in Sarah's face, meeting her eyes.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"How far along are you?" Sarah repeated and pointed at Elizabeth's slightly protruding stomach. She couldn't be far along - but the girl's overall signs of malnutrition made the small rounding of her belly more prominent.
Elizabeth looked down at her stomach and slowly ran her hands over it.
"I'm pregnant?"
.
TBC....
[i]In a motel somewhere between Roswell and Santa Fe
Six weeks post Liz Parker's funeral[/i]
"What was that noise?" she wondered dimly. "Is someone knocking the door...? Can someone open the door?"
She slipped down into the mist again. A few minutes later she reached the edges of consciousness again. The thudding sound was still there. She could also feel an ache in her back...in her stomach...in her legs... She ached everywhere. After some consulting, she realized that what she heard was a heartbeat - her heartbeat. Where was she? She focused on getting through the thick mist that covered her. She wanted to open her eyes, but it felt as if someone had taped her eyelids down. She relaxed a little, trying to gather her energy. She slowly opened her eyes. The light was so blinding that she had to blink her eyes repeatedly to get used to it. She could see that she was in a room of some kind but the contours remained blurry, causing her to have difficulties to orient herself.
The soft material pressing up against her sore back told her that she was lying on a bed. She tried to remember where she was and why she was there. She lifted her head slightly and tried to look around the room. She could only lift her head for a few seconds - the motion caused her too much effort and pain. She closed her eyes as she let her head fall back on the pillow and gave into the darkness.
During the following days, Liz continued to drift in and out of consciousness. She could consider herself lucky to have neither Tess nor Nasedo in the room as she came out of the unconsciousness. She was slowly growing stronger. Then one day, approximately five days after she first had came to, she opened her eyes and looked around. She was in what looked like a motel room. There was a large bed, the one she was lying in, and a red worn-out arm-chair across the room. There were three doors - one leading to what appeared to be the kitchen, one leading to a bathroom and the third was the front door. She sat up slowly and fought back the dizziness. She pulled the bed covers off her body and swinged her legs over the edge of the bed. She stopped for a while, gathering her energy, then she tried to stand up. Her legs were so weak. They hadn't been used in a long time and the deterioration of her muscles had already begun. The constant dull aching in her back didn't help the situation much either.
She refused to give up, she continued the process of standing up, only to fall back on the bed again - her weak legs not being able to support her weight. However, her efforts soon paid off and she soon found herself standing, swaying on legs that felt as weak as boiled spaghetti. She felt something tug at her arm and as she looked at her arm she saw a needle embedded in the skin at the back of her right hand. Connected to the needle was a long thin tube with its other end in a plastic bag, hanging from a hook at the end of a metal stand. She realized that was what had supplied her with nourishment during her unconscious state. She took a grip of the stand (which was equipped with wheels) and began on shaking legs to walk around the room. Her first trip was over to the front door, which she found to be locked. She visited the toilet and took pleasure in washing her face with cold water. Feeling refreshed she went into the kitchen and started rummaging around the refrigerator after something to eat. She found some bottles of Tabasco sauce, two cans of cherry coke, some carrots, a loaf and a bottle with sour milk. She took the loaf and a can of cherry coke and sat down by the table.
The tabled was covered in newspapers, and she pushed them away to make room. She opened the can and broke a piece of bread from the loaf. The bread was a bit dry, probably as old as everything else in the refrigerator. She relished the feeling of bread in her mouth. Even though it was old, it tasted like heaven to her. She had to put much effort into chewing the hard bread - her muscles not having been used in a while. Ten minutes later, she was full. She put the remaining loaf back into the refrigerator and threw the empty can in the trash can. For some (instinctive) reason, she figured it was best not to leave any traces. She made her way over to the bed and laid down. That's when she heard the key in the lock. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
She could hear two voices, a female and a male. They were fighting.
"I'm getting fed up with this," the male said. "You have to work faster."
"I try to, but I have only recently been able to even get through to him," the female answered, annoyance in her voice. "But I'm telling you. He will soon fall for me and then we don't need her anymore." She got a feeling that they were discussing her. "Why don't we kill her right away?"
"We have to be sure. From what I'm seeing, you're not any closer to him than you were before her faked death."
She got a feeling that it was her destiny that was being discussed.
"Well, I'm not staying here," the female said. "The whole group is going out tonight, and I'm invited. It helps to be buddies with Kyle."
She flinched at the sound of the name. It sounded familiar. Where had she heard that name before?
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," the male said. There was a sound as the front door was opened and then closed. She was alone with the man.
"I'm getting so fed up with this fucking planet," the male murmured.
-----------------------------------------------.
During the following week, she memorized their routines. Which times they came back and at which times they left. She slowly regained her strength and she was only waiting for one of them to screw up. She got her chance one morning when the rain was pattering against the roof. After a short phone call, the man left in a hurry. She listened for the sound of the key turning in the lock, but it never came. He had forgotten to lock the door! She laid still for a few minutes - in case he would remember that he had forgotten to lock and come back. When nothing happened she rose from the bed and made her way over to the front door. She slightly opened it and peeked outside. The fresh cool wind, with the smell of rain hit her in the face. She drew a deep breath - breathing in the scent of freedom. Without further hesitation, she opened the door and stepped outside. It was pouring down, but that didn't matter to her. She was free.
She had walked for hours in the rain. She was exhausted, cold and wet. But she knew that she couldn't stop. She had to keep going, or they would find her. She was afraid to walk along the road, in case her kidnappers decided to drive by. Instead, she had been forced to cross the rough vegetation out in the middle of the desert. She soon saw a petrol station in the horizon. When she came closer she saw a sign that read 'Motel - Bed and Breakfast'. She knew that she had not covered as large distance by foot as she could have done if she had hitch-hiked, and that she probably took a big risk stopping to sleep so close to her previous imprisonment. She was hightly aware of the fact that she was making herself an easy target. But it was getting dark and she was hungry, tired, wet and cold. She had to rest. She had found some money in the motel room which she had held hidden under the mattress. Every time the male put some money somewhere, she had taken some of it. Fortunately, he hadn't noticed that anything was missing.
He was a tall middle aged man. He was not grazed with a handsome appearance, but he was not judged by his exterior by the people that knew him. He was a liked man. A simple man, with a heart of gold. He had his entire life held a dream about some day opening a restaurant. A bed and breakfast was the second best thing. He took much pride of his motel. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading as he heard the door jingle.
There, in front of the door stood a small girl, completely drenched. She reminded him of the kittens his brother used to throw into the lake when they were young - just for the fun of it. Her clothes barely covered her. She had a skirt on, but it was torn in at least three places. What was left of what had earlier probably been a blouse was only rags. Her eyes appeared extremely large in her gaunt face. She slowly made her way over to the counter. The man couldn't help himself from staring.
His staring made her very uncomfortable and she tried a small smile.
"Hi, I would..." then she had to clear her throat - she had not used her voice in a long time, "I would like a room."
"Ahh...yes, of course," the man stuttered. It was a miracle to him that the girl could still stand up straight. He took out a small notebook and a pencil from under the counter.
"Can I have your name, dear?" he asked.
"Of course," she smiled but then grew silent. The man watched as the smiled slipped of her face.
"Miss?" he asked tentatively.
"I-I..I can't remember," she answered. The man looked at the girl sympathetically. God only knew what she had been through.
"It can wait until the morning," the man said reassuringly. The girl nodded but he noticed that her mind was somewhere else, perhaps searching the memory, which held her identity. "How long do you wish to stay?"
The girl looked up. "Oh..only one night I guess," Liz said.
"Okay then," the man said and scribbled something down in his note book before he turned towards a large board with a lot of hooks with keys hanging from them and took one of the keys. "Room 56. We serve breakfast at seven." He handed her the key and he noticed her hand trembling as she accepted the key.
"Thanks," she said and smiled the first real smile since she had arrived. The smile did wonders to her face and the man thought that she must have been beautiful before her life somehow got messed up. "How much do I owe you?" she asked.
"You can pay when you check out," he said.
She nodded, turned around and walked up to the door. She opened the door to walk out, shivering as the cold, moist air hit her.
"Miss, wait!" The man cried, and left his place behind the counter stepping up beside her. "Here, take my umbrella."
She looked up at the kind man and then down to his hand, which held a blue umbrella.
"Thank you," she said softly.
The man merely nodded his head with a smile. The girl left the reception, put up the umbrella and headed for the house on the other side of the parking lot which housed the rooms.
----------------------------------------------------.
She was there the following day at seven o'clock sharp.
"Good morning," the man greeted her.
"Good morning," she smiled. The man noticed that she looked much better today. The dark circles under her eyes were not as evident any longer and her hair was washed and combed. However, she still wore the same tags and he realized that she probably didn't own any more than what she had worn yesterday.
"Let me show you to the dining area," the man said and led the way.
The dining area was large and bright, with large windows letting in the light of the morning sun. The smell of newly baked bread reached her and her stomach rumbled. A little embarrassed she lowered her gaze to the floor.
"Hungry, huh?" the man asked with a smile. The girl looked up and met his gaze and as she nodded and held his gaze, he could see a piece of the strong girl she had once been.
"Then you've come to the right place," the man said.
In the middle of the dining area a part of the floor was occupied by a large table. The surface of the table was covered by plates filled with new baked loafs and buns, butter, cheese, jam, peanut butter, fresh fruit, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and pots of tea and coffee - yes, you name it and it certainly was on that table! An old woman, about seventy years old walked in, carrying a plate of crackers.
"This is my mother," the man said to the girl.
"Hi sweety," the woman said. "I'm Sarah. You sure look hungry, why don't you serve yourself and make yourself comfortable."
The girl didn't see the look that passed between the elderly woman and her son. The man had discussed the girl with his mother the other night. The discussion had concerned if they ought to call the police. There was a large possibility that she was yet another runaway and that she had parents waiting for her somewhere, waiting for her to come home and going out of their minds with worry. However, it seemed kind of weird that she had decided to run away without any change of clothes. And why did she look like she had been in an accident? The thing that had puzzled both Sarah and her son the most was that the girl hadn't remembered her name. Sure, she could have been faking it - but hadn't it been more inconspicuous to come up with fake name?
The girl grabbed a plate and started to fill it with food. The smell of food made her mouth water and she could barely wait to put her teeth into thatt bread. Her hands were quick, the movements of a starving woman, as she piled this and that on her plate. She took the plate and sought out a place by the windows. She slowly sat down, her back still aching. Yesterday, when she was about to take a shower, she had found her whole back and stomach from underneath her breast to her waist muffled up in bandage. When she unwound it from her body, and was about to step into the shower, her eyes caught the reflection of her back in the mirror. Her back looked scorched. Stepping closer to the mirror, she was surprised to see that in the middle of the semi-healed burns she thought she saw the contours of a handprint. The much longed shower was not as a nice experience as she had wanted it to be. She was forced to use humid water - almost cold - to lessen the stinging in the flesh of her burnt back.
As she ate, her thoughts once again floated back to the fact that she couldn't remember who she was or what had happened to her. She had no memory at all. She could not recall any family members, or any names. She didn't even recognize the girl that looked back at her in the mirror. Although it held some sense of familiarity. Her small stomach was quickly filled and she regretted that she hadn't had the opportunity to taste it all.
Sarah watched the girl out of the corner of her eye. She had eaten like someone was going to snatch the food away from her at any moment. However, she had not eaten much. Sarah stepped up to the girl, who was now staring out the window - lost in her own thoughts.
"Can I get you anything else, dear?" Sarah asked. The girl jumped, startled by her voice. She looked up and met the woman's old and wise eyes.
"No, thank you. It was wonderful and I'm completely full," she said.
"You know," Sarah said and took the place beside the girl, "I have a daughter about your size. Would you be willing to accept some clothes?"
She looked down at her clothes. She had winded herself up in the bandage again, more due to the fact that it was an effective warmth insulator than a comfortable article of clothing. Her other clothes, she must admit, was not a beautiful sight. She would gladly accept the old woman's offer, but she didn't like the thought of being a charity case.
"That is very kind of you," she said. "But then you have to let me pay something for it."
"No, of course not..," but stopped when she saw the look in that girl's eyes. Sarah realized that it was the only piece of honor that the girl had left - to be able to pay for herself - and Sarah wouldn't let her lose that too.
"Sure," Sarah said. "Why don't yu follow me!"
-------------------------------------------------.
They were now standing in a bedroom on the second floor and clothes were spread over the bed and floor. Sarah was rummaging through her daughter's closet. During the course of an hour clothes had been held up in front of the girl only to be removed as the clothes had been labelled to be of the wrong size.
"Elizabeth had a phase when she was slightly overweight and I guess these are those clothes..."
But the girl wasn't listening anymore. Elizabeth. There was something strangely familiar with that name. Sarah looked up to see why she hadn't gotten any response. The small girl was staring out into the air, her thoughts miles away.
"Are you all right, dear?" Sarah asked.
"Elizabeth," the girl murmured. "Was that your daughter's name?"
"Yes, that is my daughter's name," Sarah said proudly. "She is living in Arizona now - with two of the most beautiful chil..." Sarah's voice trailed off as she saw that the girl was once again lost to another world.
"I think that was my name," the girl whispered, almost inaudible.
"What was that, dear?" Sarah asked - her hearing not being what it once was.
"I remember that name Elizabeth...and I think that it was my name," the girl repeated softly, with a sparkle in her eye that Sarah hadn't seen before.
"Well, welcome back Elizabeth," Sarah said, smiling.
The girl seemed to think about it for a moment and then she was smiling from ear to ear.
"Yes, I think I was Elizabeth," she said.
"Okay then, Elizabeth. If it's okay with you, I think you have to wear clothes that are slightly too large, since it seems as if I can't find anything better here."
"Yes, of course," the girl now called Elizabeth said, without being able to stop smiling.
"Here, take this," Sarah said and handed Elizabeth a bra and a pair of underwear. "See that door over there? That door leads to a bathroom - you can change there."
"Okay, thanks," Elizabeth said, took the under garments and disappear in the bathroom.
Elizabeth started to undress and slipped into the soft underwear. She took off her old bra and put on the new one. It smelled of detergent and was soft against her skin. She looked at herself in the mirror and then started to unwind the bandage.
Sarah put down the shirt on the bed and once again let her eyes drift to the closed bathroom door. She wondered once again if everything was all right in there. The girl had been in there for a long time. Then she heard the retching. She left what she was doing and quickly walked up to the door.
"Elizabeth, are you okay, dear?" she asked but got no reply.
She opened the door slightly and peeked inside to find Elizabeth on the floor in front of the toilet. She was kneeling by the toilet, her head resting in her hands. But it wasn't the fact that she could see the ribs very clearly in Elizabeth's back or the protruding bones of her spine that showed clear signs of undernourishment that caught Sarah's attention. It was the scorched skin of her back that caught Sarah's eyes. The girl had been burnt, very badly. Putting her horror for the girl aside, Sarah walked up to the hunched girl and kneeled beside her.
"Are you all right, Elizabeth?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine...just fine," Elizabeth said, unknowingly showing signs of the old Liz Parker and her slight inability to ask for help or talk about her feelings.
"Let me help you up," Sarah said. "You could catch pneumonia sitting here on this cold floor." Automatically Sarah put an arm around Elizabeth's back to support her weight, but pulled it away just as quickly when she saw Elizabeth wince from the touch to her burnt back.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear," Sarah said regretfully, "I should have thought about that."
"That's okay," Elizabeth said reassuringly, "You didn't know."
Elizabeth put one of her hands in Sarah's and the other against the cool surface of the toilet and then pulled herself up. Elizabeth straightened up and winced a little as the inelastic skin of her back moved with the motion.
As Elizabeth straightened up - dressed only in a pair of underwear and a bra - Sarah eyes fell on Elizabeth's stomach and she suddenly understood more why this girl was on her own.
"How far along are you?" she asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, puzzled, looked up in Sarah's face, meeting her eyes.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"How far along are you?" Sarah repeated and pointed at Elizabeth's slightly protruding stomach. She couldn't be far along - but the girl's overall signs of malnutrition made the small rounding of her belly more prominent.
Elizabeth looked down at her stomach and slowly ran her hands over it.
"I'm pregnant?"
.
TBC....