Author's Note: Yo everybody.
This is CHAPTER 5 not 4.
So I wrote a nice author's note and posted it up as CH. 4. Then after everybody was done reading it, I switched it with my REAL Ch. 4. It's just a little pet peeve that I have...
This chapter and the next are probably a little boring. They're just to fill you in on how her life is living by herself.
CH. 5 and 6 were originally a monster mega 6 thousand worder but I chopped it in half and therefore, I'll be posting the 6th chapter very soon!!!
I promise you - OUR FAVORITE DOCTOR IS COMING SOON. Maybe in Chapter 7.
Chapter 4 recap:
"Really?" Her tone was cold.
"I haven't seen her at all." Who?
"Is that so?" Pause.
"Well thank you for telling me - bye." I heard the smash of the reciever onto its hook. The sound amplified many times by the finality of it all. Beatrice softly padded into the room- the look on her face was enough to confirm my suspicions. I covered my face in my hands.
"How did they find me?"
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A/N: Again, if that passage was unfamiliar to you, please go back and read Ch. 4
- - -
Chapter 5- On the Move
We held each other miserably awhile, and shed new tears; however, there was no time to lose. Beatrice had said the police were already on the way here, and it would not be good for them if I was found in the house. I was grateful that I had already packed up this morning. Five minutes later, I was saying my goodbyes to Beatrice.
"Won't you tell me where you are going?" said Beatrice sullenly.
"No, I don't even know where I'm heading to anyways. And even if I do, it's better if you don't know anything the police will want to know. I promise I'll write and visit on the holidays."
She sighed. "I'll go check if there's any sign of your little visit in the house. Just sit tight and watch for the taxi."
I idly picked out a piece of corn bread and popped it into my mouth. Beatrice had insisted on supplying me with a package of cornbread muffins, blueberry jam, buttermilk biscuits, and butter cookies. God bless her. Then something outside the window caught my eye. It was obscured by the yellow curtains but I thought it was a car.
"Beatrice! The taxi's here." I heard my cousin hurrying into the room. Picking up my hat, I stood up and that's when the automobile rolled into full view. It wasn't the taxi.
It was the police car.
I heard Beatrice dragging something around behind me. She had pulled a rug aside to reveal a trapdoor. She pulled it up swiftly and beckoned to me.
"Get down there Esme!" she hissed.
I dived into the black hole. My bag was thrown in after me, the trapdoor shut, and it was so uncomfortably musty and dark in the basement. I could feel tall objects and shelves crowded around me claustrophobically so I carefully curled into a ball, hugging my knees, lest I knock something over and alert the police of my presence. A few seconds later, there were the sound of heavy boots coming up the stairs, onto the porch, and into the house. I heard two deep, men's timbres and also Beatrice's melodic voice. The words were indiscernible, muffled by the floorboards.
The floorboards squeaked under their weight as they searched the house. Sometimes, they were right above me and my heart would stop ― certain that the trapdoor was discovered and that I would be dragged all the way back to Charles. I'd have to tell him about my daughter then, and pay the price for deceiving my husband. I would be back where I'd started. My little stint out in the wilderness…all for nothing.
I wished I had been born plain, and squinty-eyed, with dry, frizzled hair to the roots. Instead, I get a fair complexion, lively gray eyes and rich candy-hair, both of which just happen to draw Charles Evenson to me like a magnet. To him, they must scream, "Look at me! You want me! Take me!" Even now, he pursues me.
After an eternity of listening to my own heart hammering away in my chest, I heard them nearing the front door. It opened, closed, the boots were going down the stairs and finally, leaving! I let my arms loosen from their clamp around my knees and stretched my legs, promptly knocking over a garden rake…which knocked over a broom and a few metal buckets deafeningly.
A sudden wave of light washed over me.
"Wow Esme. What did you do now?" Beatrice's small frame kneeled at the edge of the trapdoor.
I squinted up at her. A sheepish grin crossed my face. The immediate danger had passed and for now, I was safe.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought the police might have heard the crash…" grumbled Beatrice.
"Well they didn't did they? That was a really close call." I dusted off myself and straightened up the broom, rake, and buckets. Then I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the basement.
The taxi came only a few minutes after the police had left. I hugged them each tightly, one last time: Beatrice, Sam, and Susan ( Matthew was out at the farm working). My taxi driver was getting impatient though, he kept on clicking his tongue, and I couldn't put off my departure any longer. I stepped into the taxi and was about to close the door when I heard Beatrice:
"Wait! Esme, you forgot your knitting!" She ran indoors and emerged a few seconds later with something pink and fluffy in her hand. Beatrice gave them to me through the rolled-down window. I fingered the soft baby beanie and booties carefully. She had also given me a ball of pink yarn.
"Thank you," I said earnestly, "I can't believe I forgot them in there. Hope will have something beautiful and warm to wear when she is born," I murmured. "Goodbye, Beatrice, I'll miss you."
"Goodbye, Esme darling. Please visit as soon as you can, and, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask us." Beatrice watched me with shiny, tear-filled gray eyes as I rolled up the window and motioned the driver to drive.
I waved to my cousin through the back window until the old farm house passed out of sight. Why did Charles just have to ruin everything? My life had been pleasant enough before I'd met him. Repetitive, dull, but at least livable. A few years ago, I could never have imagined myself in this mess: running away from my husband (what kind of husband beats his wife?), running away from my family (what kind of parents let their son-in-law beat their daughter?), running away from home (what kind of home is it when there's a wild, sadistic husband waiting for you every night?), and doing all this for the sake of my unborn daughter ― the baby I had loved since the discovery of her existence ― the fact that she was mine, alone, justified my rebellion. I let out a heavy sigh and settled into my seat. Might as well rest while I could.
"Miss? We're at the train station."
I blinked groggily and handed him the cab fee. "Thanks."
"You're welcome, have a nice trip." He smiled pleasantly at me and drove away, looking for another customer, after I'd exited his cab.
The Milwaukee train station was pretty busy today. Relatives and friends were already leaving for home. There was a sign right behind the sliding glass doors. Departures and arrivals were both posted on the sign. I looked through the destinations: Minneapolis, Chicago, St. Luis, Indianapolis, Springfield, Rochester…all too expensive and conspicuous. I was looking for somewhere low-key and unnoticeable ― ooh, Ashland? According to the map (it barely even showed up there), Ashland was on the shore of Lake Superior, far up north, about a seven-hour ride. It was a small town in a rural area near few large roads and cities. The nearest departure time was at 1:15, half an hour from now. I strolled through the large train station in search of platform 5.
The long train ride was monotonous. I had moved into an empty compartment near the head of the train. It was a rather bland space; furnished with plain, beige seats and a dull, green floor. I wished I'd brought a book or something to preoccupy my mind. The surrounding landscape didn't help either ― I watched as the sun sunk lower and lower until it finally disappeared into the endless snow. Looking through the window, I noticed that the further north we went, human population seemed to decrease. I simply couldn't keep my eyelids up.
Several hours later, I was hailing a cab buggy (This tiny town still used horse-drawn buggies!) from the train station. At least, what the tiny town of Ashland calls a train station. The Ashland train station basically consists of a miniature parking lot, one train platform, and a little cabin containing the waiting room, restrooms, and the office. I was one of the three who had gotten off at this stop.
My driver took me to the nearest inn. I would start rebuilding my life the next day.
"Do you know if there are any decent apartments nearby?"
The young lady at the lobby desk looked up from her novel and smiled pleasantly at me. "What are you looking for?"
"Something comfortable, easily affordable, close to restaurants and groceries…size doesn't matter to me."
The girl's nametag read "Elaine." She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I don't know too much about apartments but there's a nice family-run boarding house near the lake…that's if you don't mind living under the same roof with another family."
"How nice is nice?" Cheaper boarding-houses tend to be tacky and uncomfortable.
"Oh, they get fabulous reviews and they're always booked during the busy seasons. They also have long-term plans for those who want to stay for a month or longer. I've met the family. The Bakers are very friendly people."
Hmm. That sounded pretty nice then. "What's the name of the place?"
"Lakeview Lodge. Here, I'll show you where it is on your map." Elaine drew an "X" on an Ashland map and drew the quickest route there with a red pencil. She was very helpful.
I gathered together my things and smiled graciously at the girl. "Thank you for your help, Elaine."
"You're welcome, have a nice day! Oh, and by the way, I love your hair."
"Thanks!" I left the Superior Inn in a giddy state. I haven't been given a compliment like that in a long time. My candy-colored hair was currently worn down, left free to billow out in waves. There was a strange satisfaction in defying Charles.
I took a buggy to the Lakeview Lodge. Oh boy, did the horses reek! After so many years away from the farm, I was unused to farm animal stench. We rode over the little winter wonderland of snowy slopes and small hills sparkling in the morning sunlight. Naked silver birch, black ash, oak, and maple trees dotted the whiteness. The air was as clear as Charles' imported crystal goblet, and crisp, fresh, wholesome to the soul. I breathed it all in gladly but when the Lakeview Lodge came into view, all the air in my lungs came out in a gasp.
Whoosh.
At the bottom of the hill was the famous Lake Superior, sparkling under the rising sun. And a little way down the slope was the cutest, coziest, little chalet I have ever seen in my life. It was nestled into the snow like a Christmas tree waiting for presents and even as I watched, puffs of smoke trailed out of the minute chimney. The sloped roof was covered with a generous blanket of untouched snow; I desperately wanted to stick on giant gumdrops and licorice pieces.
"That's Lakeview Lodge over there yonder," my driver said proudly.
"It does look wonderful."
He nodded admiringly. "Oh yes, miss, I've spent a night there myself ― the mornings are the best, seeing the sun rising over the Lake Superior…and Lisa's famed cinnamon buns first thing in the morning over a hot cup of coffee…the best."
We arrived in front of the Lakeview Lodge and he stopped the horse.
I hopped off the buggy, careful not to dirty my dress on the wheels. "Thank you. I'll be back out in a few minutes."
The windows and door were white. A Christmas wreath with red bows still hung on the front door and there were mistletoe bunches hanging behind the rectangular windows. The larger windows facing the lake and the south were triangular. A porch wrapped around halfway of the second story. I pressed the small, brass doorbell and heard the faint ring resounding indoors.
"Good morning, miss. What can I do for you?" A handsome, sturdy-looking woman appeared at the doorway. I judged her age to be in the mid 30s ― she was clearly a housewife; she wore her chocolate hair pinned up in a messy bun and a white apron protected her dress from the daily work grime. With her grim smile and crossed arms, she was intimidating.
"Hi, um, you take boarders here right?" I asked hesitantly.
She widened her eyes and gave me an amiable ear-to-ear grin, it was like a sudden stream of sunlight breaking out from the layer of dark clouds. "Sure we do! Come in, please! Welcome to the Lakeview Lodge," she looked over my shoulder, "Oh! Hello there, Amos." The buggy driver tipped his hat.
I stepped into the warm living room, brilliantly lit by numerous windows. There was a fire crackling in the hearth, a few sofas and armchairs covered with home-knit throws and rugs, small wood figurines scattered here and there, family pictures along with the figurines, everything neat ― but not scary-neat: altogether, a most comfortable living room, but the smell, the smell of the place was amazing.
It was a wholesome smell, as if someone had managed to take everything in the food pyramid and combine them into one, complete unit. And it was alive, too. Like all the good memories of a perfect year ― savory Christmas hams, picking strawberries, warm-cinnamon mornings, summer roses, apple pies, the fruitful fall harvest, spice, and sugar, and love.
"You can call me Lisa. I'm sorry I was a bit cold to you outside…I thought you were some snobby saleslady. A pretty, young thing like you wanting to rent a room here all by yourself?"
I nodded eagerly. "I'm Esme. Someone mentioned you can carry long-term boarders?"
"We rent by days, weeks, or months. You may stay as long as you want, but since the rooms are each unique, and I want to allow every customer a chance at each type of room, we have long-term boarders switch rooms every month. There's a discount for long-term boarders, of course."
"Name your prices."
There were five rooms available for rent. Two rentable rooms were on the second floor and another three in the top floor. Their prices were remarkably low so I decided to switch between the two master bedrooms each month. Both were currently unavailable until two days from now.
I had Amos drive me to the Ashland bank in town. During the ride, I inhaled a bit of Beatrice's cornbread and biscuits for lunch. I gave my driver some muffin as well.
The bank was the small ― like everything else in Ashland ― and the women at the counter were all old, plump, sitting ducks. They had been deep in conversation when I entered the bank and when I asked for assistance, the roundest, loudest one approached me with a glimmer of gossipy expectation in her eyes. I expect the population of the little town of Ashland was so infinitesimal, every new member was a choice topic of gossip.
In fact, the first three words out of her mouth happened to be: "You new here?"
"Yes." I could feel the gaze of three pairs of beady eyes on me. The intense scrutiny was making me very uncomfortable.
"What's your name?"
"Esme Ev-Platt. Esme Platt."
She tilted her face to one side, thinking. "Are you staying with family?"
"No, I'm not here for the holidays."
"Then where are you living at?" She spoke quickly, throwing her words out at me.
"I'm boarding at the Lakeview Lodge for now, just until I've got a steady income." I sighed rather pointedly.
Fortunately, the woman got my point and I was able to set up a fresh, new account. When I took out the wad of cash (two years' worth teaching money) from my purse, her eyes bulged, like a frog's.
"You don't have a husband?" What was with her interrogating?
"No," I sighed, then inspiration hit me…"he-he passed away quite recently, bless his soul!" I conjured up some tears and lifted my face, peering at her with shiny, wide eyes. It worked.
"You poor baby!" cried the woman. She leaned across the desk and patted my hand.
I sniffed and wiped away a few tears daintily. "After the war, Charles' doctor told us his heart had been weakened by the stress and the constant fighting. One day, he had a heart-attack while he was out working, and-and there was nothing anyone could do!"
"Terrible!"
"Actually, Charles was strong enough to leave me with a small part of himself ―" I smiled weakly, "He left me with a darling baby…"
"You're with child?!"
Without a doubt, I would be the talk of the town by the end of today.
But hey, I've just cleared up my past history and the fact that I'm pregnant.
The next day, I had Amos take me to the Ashland schools. There were two schools in Ashland ― one elementary and one middle school. They were right across the street from each other and I imagine it is common to see little boys and girls ogling at their superiors in middle school through the windows.
The principals were very kind but there were no positions open, even for summer school. I was welcome to sub in when any teacher called in sick, however. So my dream-job here is nonexistent, but I intend to look for work in town soon. For now, I had enough saved up from teaching at Columbus to last a while. However, there aren't many other substantially-paid jobs I can take. All I've ever done is teach; my education limits me to that. I may need to work many hours each week in order to survive.
My first night in the Bakers' home was very comfortable, but it reminded me of my other life ― the life where I had Mother holding my hand with every step I took. The life I had before my teenage years. Homemade quilts and rugs, enticing smells coming from the kitchen 24/7, the feeling of contentment filling every corner ― I found myself wishing I could hop into a machine and travel right back to a time when I didn't have to worry about being a lady, worry about having babies, worry about earning my own keep…to a time when I had been young and naïve, worrying only about the daily chores.
What had gone wrong? Just barely thirteen and suddenly:
No climbing trees.
No reading books.
No mud fights with the neighboring farm boys.
No slacks, jeans, or overalls.
Dresses, dresses, dresses.
Sewing, knitting, embroidering.
Cooking, cleaning, chores, chores, CHORES.
It's a wonder I'm still alive today.
The following morning, Lisa Baker introduced me to her family.
There was Mr. Thomas Baker, a tall, cheerful man with the widest smile I have ever seen.
The eldest son, Scott Baker, was twelve years old. I felt the superiority rolling off him in waves as he ordered his younger siblings around shamelessly. Scott has carved almost every one of those wooden figurines in the house.
Turner was ten. He's the bookworm of the family. He had a thick, moth-eaten volume under his nose over his cinnamon bun.
Maddie was the youngest at a tender seven years of age. She still had an adorable lisp. Her baby voice and beatific looks clashed bizarrely with her tomboyish behavior.
"So now you've met my little angels. They're…"
"That wath my beth-t hair ribbon you idiot." Turner flew by with Maddie hot on his tail.
"…a handful at times, but you'll…"
There was a crash from the den. "Scott! Getter off me!"
"Thut up! Thcott, he th-tole my hair ribbon and glued it onto one of hith th-tupid bookmarkth."
"…get used to them in time."
Scott strolled through the dining room and disappeared into the den, a grimace on his face. The living room was silent.
Lisa rolled her eyes. "That one usually takes care of the younger two. I'm a bit worried he's getting too used to his authority…Anyway, Thomas is going to his shop in town. You're welcome to ride down with him and look for a job there."
"Thanks, but I was also thinking about being a teacher. Are there any other schools nearby, other than the Ashland elementary and middle schools?" I was not giving up my preordained job without a fight.
"There's a little school in the Edgewood community, east of here. It's not too far away. But when I say it's small, it's tiny. Maybe 20 students in the whole school. Only one classroom, actually." Lisa said.
Optimism rushed through me. "Alright. A teeny school's better than no school at all."
By the end of the day, I was the new waitress at one of the popular restaurants in Ashland and the Edgewood community's summer school-miss.
Getting the post as waitress was easy. One glance and I was in, no questions asked. After bagging that job, I decided to just take a peek at the Edgewood school. Turned out, their current teacher was moving once the school year ended, and I had come right on time.
That night, I finally felt safe. I had my future planned out, waitress, teacher, and baby. My most stressed-out muscle finally loosened and relaxed ― my brain.
Wow! You survived that! Please hang on for Ch. 6 and 7!!
Review in the meanwhile : Please alert me of any grammar or spelling mistakes and whatnot.
Thank you all!