Tessa (From Fear to Faith) (11 page)

21

I
slowed to a walk when the pain in my side became unbearable. Running had kept me warm, but now the icy wind took its toll. The open farm fields on either side of the road offered no protection. My nose was running like a faucet. I pressed onward at a steady hike, my fists jammed deep into my jeans pockets. It couldn’t be much farther to Heather’s. If I kept going, I’d make it. But I knew I was much colder than I felt. How did I keep ending up in situations like this?

My mind shifted to what Heather would say when she opened the door and saw me. Her eyes would widen in questioning surprise.
You said you didn’t need me. Remember? You pushed me away when I tried to help you. It’s not like we’re really friends anymore. Why don’t you ask that Lorraine to help? You two have been pretty thick lately.

But she’d flash that bright smile and invite me in. Maybe she’d even make me some hot chocolate. She’d say how nice it was of me to come over, and I would laugh and say I’d always wanted to. Then the two of us would sprawl on the floor in front of the TV and watch all the late shows until we couldn’t keep our eyes open anymore.

But when the yellow house came into view, it wasn’t the welcome sight I had imagined. The place was dark. What if they were all in bed? Worse yet, suppose no one was home. What time was it, anyway? I felt for my watch, but my wrist was empty. Somehow I had left my watch at home.

I hesitated at the end of the driveway. The thought of going up and ringing the doorbell filled me with nervous dread. Maybe it was the wrong house. Maybe someone would see me wandering around out here and call the police. Maybe Heather’s grandparents would be mad if I woke them up.

Still, what did it matter? My hands were screaming with cold, and my face was so numb I was sure it was frostbitten. I would freeze to death out here. I plodded up the driveway and touched the lighted button at the door with one numb finger.
Push. Don’t think, just do it.
I held the button down for a long moment, then clung to the wooden railing and waited. A dog barked inside. Then a bright light shone in my eyes.

“Can I help you?” said a man’s voice.

I squinted against the light. “Uh . . . does Heather live here?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

“Yeah. I’m . . . a friend of hers.”

I heard some murmuring inside the house, then a click as the screen door was unlocked.

“Goodness, child, where’s your coat?” The man held the door wide. “Come in and get warm.”

A rush of warmth enveloped me as I stepped inside. But when I saw Heather’s grandparents standing there in their bathrobes, I felt ashamed. A tan and white collie stood beside them, eyeing me.

“I take it you’re Tessa,” said the man, after an awkward pause.

I nodded, my eyes on the floor.

“I’m Tom Erickson. Pleased to meet you.”

“Heather’s not here tonight,” said the lady, “but she’s mentioned you a few times, I believe.”

“Don’t you live just down the road there?” Tom asked.

“Yeah.” My teeth were chattering.

“So what are you doing over here this time of night?”

“I, uh…” What could I say?

“Come on, speak up. Do your parents know you’re out? How did you get here?”

“I-I walked.”

“In this weather, without a coat? For heaven’s sake, child, it’s ten below out there!” Tom shook his head. “I’m sorry. You must be frozen. Why don’t you kick off your shoes and sit down.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t bother with the laces; I simply bent down and pried the frozen tennis shoes off my stiff feet. Snow had worked down inside the shoes, and my socks were caked with it. After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled them off too.

“Take a seat,” Tom encouraged me, motioning toward the couch. “Don’t worry about a little snow.”

“Would you like some hot tea?” the lady asked, as she laid a pink flowered quilt across my lap. “I’m Patty, by the way.”

I nodded and pulled the quilt up around my shoulders. Patty looked so warm in her pink fuzzy bathrobe and purple slippers. My hands had stopped hurting, but they still felt like ice.

Patty brought my cup of tea on a small saucer. “I hope it’s not too hot,” she said.

I took the cup and held it between my hands. The heat stung, but even that felt good. Steam rose up in my face and I closed my eyes, breathing in the gentle fragrance, letting my head droop. Tea was comforting in a lot of ways, some of which had nothing to do with actually drinking it.

***

Once I was comfortably situated with my tea, Patty settled on the other end of the couch and reached for her knitting. Tom took the mauve armchair across from me, and the questions began again.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked.

I just shook my head. I couldn’t tell them what had happened, and I was not in the frame of mind to invent another story. But Tom persisted.

“Have you run away?”

“I-I guess.” I was still shivering.

“How come?”

“My mom and dad were fighting.”

“I see. It must’ve been pretty bad.”

“Sorta.” I set down my cup and pulled the quilt closer around myself. Was Walter still looking for me? Mentally I retraced my steps, trying to picture any trail I might have left. The cut screen was obvious, as were my tracks across the front yard. I wasn’t worried about them. But wait, wouldn’t I have left footprints along the road as well? What if the wind hadn’t covered them yet?

I felt sick. Why hadn’t I thought to walk in the middle of the road? If Walter looked hard enough, he’d find me. I cast a fearful glance toward the door, which was still ajar. “Would you mind . . . locking the door?”

Tom’s face registered surprise, but he rose and secured the door. “Is somebody after you?”

“My-my dad.” My voice shook. I felt like I was going to cry.

“I see. So this here fight . . . you mean your parents were arguing? Or is it physical?”

I couldn’t answer. Across my mind flashed the terrifying image of Mom sprawling to the floor as Walter reached for the heavy iron fry pan. I had to stop him!

“Tessa?” It was Patty’s voice this time. “Is something wrong? Do we need to call the authorities?”

I managed to shake my head. Mom was fine. She had to be! With the time I’d bought her, she could have called the police, maybe even jumped in the car and driven off. She was probably on her way into town at this very minute.

Silence followed, broken only by the click of Patty’s knitting needles. Under the end table beside me, the collie yipped softly in its dreams.

“Someone needs to know where you are,” Patty said at last. “Is there someone we can call? A relative or maybe a family friend?”

Another hard question. I picked at a tuft of yarn on the quilt. All I knew about our relatives was that they lived somewhere down south. At least, Mom’s did. I’d never heard a thing about Walter’s family.

Over in the armchair, Tom stifled a yawn. “Patty’s right. There must be someone you can think of.”

“I’m trying! But we’re not exactly from around here. Walter’s got friends, but they’re all a bunch of jerks.”

“Well, in that case maybe I should call the sheriff’s department and let them know where you are. Or is it safe for you to go back home?”

My head spun at the mention of the police. “Can’t you wait until morning?”

“What would you do then?”

I couldn’t answer that.

“I suppose you could try to call my mom,” I said. “But if you get Walter, don’t talk to him. Hang up or something.”

“All right.” Tom reached for the cordless phone on the end table. “What’s the number?”

I told him and he punched it in, then held the phone to his ear. Moments later, he lowered it with a puzzled expression. “It says that number’s been disconnected.”

“Disconnected?” Visions of Walter cutting the phone cord flooded my mind. But no, that was too absurd. “Maybe you have a number wrong,” I said.

Tom held up the phone for me to check. But everything looked right. I held my breath as he dialed once again. He listened, then shook his head. “I can’t get through.”

Fear broke over me like a tidal wave. What if Mom hadn’t gotten away? With that thought came the most vivid and horrible picture. I could see Mom slumped on the kitchen floor, a dark pool of blood around her head. Her long brown hair, now dark and matted, half covered her face. She wasn’t moving.

It was all so horribly real. I didn’t want to believe it, but the dreadful picture wouldn’t go away. Through my sobs, I heard Tom get up and leave the room. Was he going to call the police? It didn’t even matter. Nothing mattered.

A short time later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. There was Tom, dressed in a red flannel shirt and jeans. “I’m going to drive over to your place and try to talk to your mom before it gets any later. You don’t want to come along, do you?”

I shook my head and buried my face in my hands again.

Tom wasn’t gone long, maybe ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. His face was serious as he walked in and took his seat. “I talked to your mom. She’s going to come and get you in a little while.”

“She’s okay?” The weight of anxiety fell away, and I could breathe again. Then I thought of something else. “She’s not mad at me, is she?”

Tom smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

The three of us settled in to wait. Beside me, Patty’s knitting needles clicked steadily as she worked one long row after another of maroon and white variegated yarn. The irregular patches of color unfolding on the swatch fascinated me.

“What’re you making?” I asked.

“This is going to be a sweater for my granddaughter. I was hoping to get it done in time for Christmas, but the way it’s going, it’ll probably be a late birthday present instead.”

“It’s pretty.”

“Yeah, I think so too. Variegated yarn’s fun to work with.”

More time passed. I finished my second cup of tea and declined a third. Across from me Tom was snoring. Patty’s knitting needles slowed, then stopped altogether as she laid aside her work. She turned out all the lights except the dim lamp in the corner and then sat down again, wrapping herself in an afghan. I fought to keep my eyes open, but somewhere between twelve thirty and one, I gave up.

22

I
awoke in the gray dawn to the aroma of pancakes. The living room was deserted, the only sign of the all-night vigil being a red plaid blanket crumpled on the seat of the armchair. Around the corner in the kitchen, I heard Patty humming a tune as she stirred something in a bowl. I stretched my cramped legs, then settled back on the couch. Although it was Monday morning, going to school was the last thing on my mind. Why hadn’t Mom come for me?

Somewhere off the kitchen, a back door opened, and I heard Tom stomping snow from his boots. “It’d be a fine day if it wasn’t so cold,” he said. Moments later the collie came bounding into the living room. It planted big snow-covered paws on my lap and reached up to lick my cheek.

“Sadie! You know better than that!” Patty scolded from the doorway. “Get down, you naughty girl.” She shook a spatula at the dog. Sadie hung her head and slunk over to the doorway, but when she saw me watching, she grinned and waved her fringed tail. I almost laughed.

“Hope she didn’t wake you up,” Patty said.

“No, I was just sitting here.”

“Would you like to eat with us? Breakfast is about ready.”

“Okay,” I said. The wonderful smells in the air were making me hungry.

As I walked into the kitchen, Tom looked up from drizzling syrup over his stack of pancakes and bid me a cheery good morning. Patty forked a fried egg and two pancakes onto my plate. I slid into a chair, then self-consciously bowed my head while Tom said a short prayer.

“How late are you working today?” Patty asked him afterwards.

“Let me think . . . we’ve probably got four or five hours left on Millers’ job, and then I have to look at some leaking pipes. We’ve sent the guys out there at least three times, and the lady keeps calling and saying it’s still not fixed. I’ll try to be home by six.”

“What do you do?” I asked.

“I’m a master plumber at P&B Plumbing – you know, the place with the big sign as you’re going into town.”

“Where does your dad work?” Patty asked me.

“He’s got a shop where he builds and refinishes furniture.”

“Really. Does he get a lot of work?”

“Enough, I guess.”

“So your mom never came,” Tom said, stating the obvious. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“I don’t know. Guess I’ll keep waiting for her.”

I swallowed the last few bites of pancake and excused myself. Returning to the living room, I stood before the double windows and gazed out upon the wintry landscape. Despite the dazzling sunshine, the temperature remained in the single digits below zero. I watched the wind swirl loose snow over a peaked drift near the corner of the house. Anxiety clouded my thoughts.
What if my mom never does come? Is she really okay? Or did something awful happen after Tom left?

“I hate to leave with things so uncertain.” Tom’s deep voice drifted in from the kitchen. “But I really need to be there to finish that job.”

“I know. I’ll call you if anything changes,” Patty said.

I heard a rustle as Tom pulled on his jacket. He opened the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Have a good day. Drive carefully,” Patty called after him.

I watched the red SUV back out of the driveway and disappear down the road in a haze of blowing snow. Patty came in and joined me at the windows.

“You watching for your mom?”

I shrugged and kept staring out at the snow.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in your family, and you don’t have to tell me; but whatever it is, God can straighten it out. He sent you here last night so we could help you. He loves you, Tessa. So do we.”

I didn’t want to hear this. If God loved me even a little, things wouldn’t be in such a horrible mess. Any idiot could see that.

“Would you like me to pray for you?”

I sighed, not caring whether it was rude. Prayer was the last thing I needed right now. Patty reminded me so much of Heather – always poking her nose into my affairs, always wanting to help.

“That’s okay. I have to clean up from breakfast, but if you need anything, just let me know.”

I was relieved when she left. But as I continued to gaze upon the frozen world before me, such an ache filled my chest that I couldn’t stand it. Maybe I should have let her pray for me.

***

Mom’s black car pulled in about noon. I dropped the magazine I’d been reading and watched as she limped toward the house. I winced when I saw her face. Both eyes were blackened, and there was a nasty bruise in front of her ear and another on the side of her mouth. Her long brown hair whipped in the wind.

“Mom’s here,” I called, and hastened to open the door.

Mom leaned hard on the door frame as she stepped inside. “Hey, Tessa.” She tried to smile, which only made her look worse.

“Oh man, he got you real bad.” My throat tightened in sympathy.

“So tell me, how do you like it here?” Mom asked. She spoke slowly, grimacing as if it hurt to move her mouth.

I shrugged. Patty hurried in from the kitchen. “My goodness, Julie, what happened?”

Mom ignored the question. “I need to ask a favor of you.” She took off her gloves and unzipped her coat. Underneath, she was wearing an old gray sweatshirt and blue jeans. “I know you’re good people. Would you let Tessa stay here for just a few days?”

I could see the surprise in Patty’s face. “Well, we’d have to consider it. Why?”

Mom kind of laughed. “Why? So she don’t look like I do tomorrow, that’s why.” Then her manner changed. “Please. I need a few days to decide what to do. I know it’s asking a lot, but I just don’t know what else to do. We don’t really know anybody around here.”

“Well, this is rather unexpected,” said Patty. “But if you’re serious, I’ll call Tom at work and see what he thinks about it.”

“Call him. I can wait.” Mom limped over and lowered herself into the armchair.

I remained standing near the door, annoyed that Mom had not asked my consent before proceeding. But why raise a fuss when Patty might turn her down anyway? She seemed cautious about the idea, and judging by the snatches of conversation drifting in from the next room, Tom wasn’t thrilled by it either.

At least ten minutes passed before Patty returned. She perched on the arm of the couch. “All right. I talked with Tom, and we’re okay with her staying a couple of days, if you give us a signed note with your permission.”

Mom frowned. “A signed note? Come on, can’t you guys just trust me?”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Patty said. “What if Walter shows up over here tomorrow claiming we kidnapped her or something?”

Mom shook her head. “Whatever. Give me some paper, and I’ll write a note.”

“Aren’t you gonna ask what I think about this?” I cut in. “Or doesn’t it matter?”

“I asked you. You didn’t answer. There something you don’t like about it?”

“You wouldn’t care even if there was.”

“Tess, it’s just a couple days.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes and stalked out of the room. Staying with Tom and Patty sounded like a good idea, but why did she always have to go over my head like I was a toddler?

I wandered through the kitchen into the small but cozy dining room. A wooden table and four chairs stood in the center of the room against a backdrop of lacy yellow curtains. In the corner was a desk with an old-fashioned telephone and a laptop computer. Off to my right, a doorway opened into a small bathroom. It was here that I positioned myself to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.

“I’ll come in the morning and take her to school,” Mom was saying. “I brought her some clothes and things.”

“How long were you thinking she’d be here?” Patty asked.

“Oh, if you get tired of her, just let me know.”

“That’s not the point. She’s your daughter and you ought to take care of her, not us. This is a special and very temporary arrangement.”

“Of course.”

There was a pause, then Patty spoke again. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but our church runs a temporary shelter in Northford for women who are caught in abusive situations. I’ll give you their number. Even if you and Tessa didn’t want to stay there, you could talk to somebody, maybe get some help.”

Mom’s reply was curt. “I’m working on it. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay. If you say so. But if I were you, I’d get away from that guy before it’s too late. He sounds like a real character.”

“Oh yeah?” There was suspicion in Mom’s voice now. “What all is Tess telling you?”

“She doesn’t have to say anything. It’s pretty obvious.”

“What’s obvious?”

“That you’re in a pretty difficult situation.”

Mom was silent for a few moments, then she said, “I’m assuming you guys know how to keep things quiet.”

“You mean…”

“Just answer me. You gonna keep things quiet or not?”

I pressed my hands against my chest. Why Mom was grilling Patty I wasn’t sure, but one thing I did know. Patty’s response would determine whether or not I was allowed to stay.

Patty stammered as she tried to answer. “Well, uh . . . honestly, Julie, you puzzle me. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to get help, but I’m not going to do it for you. I don’t get involved in other people’s affairs without a really good reason.”

“What would you call a good reason?”

“Just what are you driving at, Julie? If you want me to promise I won’t say anything ever, even if I think you’re in danger, you can stop right now. I have to do what I believe is right. If that isn’t good enough for you, you’d better take your daughter with you when you leave.”

Mom sighed. “Look, I’ll give it to you straight. Tess talks too much. Most of what she says isn’t true, the rest is exaggerated, and none of it is your business. Get it?”

Anger surged through me. That charge wasn’t true, and Mom knew it.

Patty’s reply was firm. “Like I said, I’m not making any blanket promises.”

“Sure. I’m just telling you. You go messing with other people’s business, you’re gonna be sorry.
Dead
sorry.”

My heart stopped. I shrank back into the bathroom. What was Mom doing? After last night, any fool could see we’d be better off if Walter got caught and thrown in prison.

Suspicion leaped into my mind. Could Mom be involved in Walter’s dealings? Sickening as the thought was, it made sense – a lot of sense. Who else could have drawn those intricate diagrams taped on the refrigerator at the farmhouse? It certainly wasn’t Walter, whose skill with a pen barely rivaled a second-grader’s. And what about those weird phone calls she’d been making lately?

I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. How could Mom do this to me? If she got arrested along with Walter, I’d be completely alone. I’d be at the mercy of whatever the state decided to do with me. Would I end up in foster homes? Or would I be charged for my own involvement and sent to jail or juvenile detention?

Out in the living room, everything had gone quiet. Mom must have left. But I was paralyzed – too depressed to move, much less go out and face Patty. What must she be thinking?

I sank to the bathroom floor and there, arms wrapped around my knees, I sat until my mind was numb and my back ached.

I didn’t hear Patty come in. She got down on the floor next to me and took my hand in hers, gently unclenching my fist. “I know how you must be feeling,” she said. “But it’s okay. You were smart to come here last night, and Tom and I want you to know you’re more than welcome. Anytime.”

I couldn’t see how that would help anything, but I nodded.

“One more thing,” she continued. “Tom and I are your friends, and we’ll do whatever we can for you, but the one who can really help you is Jesus.”

I chewed my lower lip. Jesus, wasn’t he up in heaven somewhere? A lot of good he could do me. Supposing he even existed.

“Tom and I have been praying for you, even before you came,” Patty went on. “Jesus knows all about your situation and how to deal with it. He knows about the fear and the trouble you have with your dad. He cares, Tessa. And I believe he’s working right now to help you, even though it doesn’t look like it.”

I wished I could believe her. Anything would be better than this debilitating fear. But how could I be sure what she said was true?

Patty smiled and patted my shoulder. “Come out to the kitchen, and I’ll make you a sandwich. Do you like toasted cheese?”

I nodded. I didn’t know why, but listening to her had made me feel better.