by Sarah Hualde
*****
Out in the field, Scout retreated to dreamland and drooled without distraction under her canopied stroller. Kevin and Flora guarded her as their children set up camping chairs and a tarp for shade. Kat’s kids helped their friends.
Meanwhile, the runners bunched awaiting final registration and line up. Ivy waved to Maven. Maven returned the wave but did not approach the clump of participants. It surprised Lydia to see her out after last night’s fright.
She squinted through her sunshades at Maven. The woman’s allergies had returned, resulting in swollen eyes and a reddened nose. Maven hurried past the vendors and over toward the path up to the B & B. She followed a curve on the pathway and disappeared from view.
“She must feel poorly,” Ivy announced, her cheeks saddened with obvious disappointment.
“I’m shocked she’s out at all,” Ethan added, “She has horrid hay fever and spent the entire night calming down her cousin.”
“She’s been through a lot,” Ivy said. Lydia, aware of some of Ivy’s past, grinned at the girl’s willingness to understand another’s grief. She had nothing to do with how Ivy had turned out. But she was proud of her, nonetheless.
“Yes, last night was wild for everyone,” Lydia said.
“Not just that. Maven’s dealt with a lot during the last few years.” The group of runners moved.
Kat shot up next to Lydia and instructed the cluster to line up. "We're all going to get our numbers, and then we wait until 8." She almost giggled.
Lydia could not force her face to look happy. She avoided eye contact and dove into conversation with Ivy. “What happened?”
“What are we talking about?” Kat asked.
“Maven and Averie.”
“Maven used to be famous. Did you know?” Ivy shook her head just as her audience did. “Neither did I, until last night. Once I got Flora home and put Scout to bed, I pulled out all my goodies from Maven. Other than the DVDs and the spa stuff, there were two CDs.
She was a singer. I think you’d call it Emo, but I’m not sure. She was great. I only listened to the first CD but did a quick search of her online.
There were videos and interviews. Some as new as four years ago. She was just about to start a sold-out tour of the states when the car wreck happened.”
“Car wreck?” Kat asked. She guided the group forward into the line.
"Yep. A bad one. She and Averie were out one night, and Averie ran the car into a cement barrier. It injured Averie and Maven spent the last three years helping her heal. During her last interview, she explained her tour's cancelation, and that she didn't plan to sing again until Averie was stable. I guess Averie suffered severe memory loss and delusions because of the crash and the emotional trauma it caused. Averie stabilized, but Maven’s fans had moved on.”
“How sad,” Kat stuck Lydia’s number to her back.
“Isn’t it, though,” Ivy helped Kat with her identification. “Since then I guess Maven’s grown accustomed to being Averie’s assistant. Averie will never be the celebrity Maven once was. But she’s got enough of a following to support them both.”
Lydia exhaled. Lord forgive me for judging her. She spoke inwardly to her Heavenly Father. Why must she assume the worst in people? Wasn't she constantly chiding Joan about rushing to judgment? Her own thoughts needed reminding. What would her missionary daughter think if she could see her mother now, mentally persecuting Maven? She heaved her heavy heart closer to the registration booth and prayed for a blessing over such a self-sacrificing young lady.
“Time to line up!” Berna announced.
Lydia shook Maven from her mind and followed the herd into position. "Dear Lord, help me not make a fool of myself." She repeated the whisper as she lined herself up with the other runners. She was going through with this. "Why?"
“What was that?” The man nearest her asked as he double tied his laces.
“Nothing. Just hoping for a way out of this and praying for strength.”
The man snickered, “It’s too late for that.” He inclined his head toward the starting line. Berna handed over the official starter pistol. Flora cheered Lydia's name above the crowd. The huddle absorbed Ethan and Ivy. There were no last words of encouragement.
BOOM!
The crowd shifted and surged. Stronger athletes pulled away from the group and left the newbies in the dust. One red-haired woman smacked Lydia in the face with her ponytail as she passed. She muttered, “Under 24. Under 24.”
24 minutes? Lydia focused on lifting her knees and planting her heels. Arms swinging, as Kat had trained her to do, she jogged gathering strength and momentum for a sprint. Jog one, sprint one, jog one, sprint one, she spoke to her inner critic and plummeted ahead.
Her side cramped by the fifth circuit. Kat lapped her once. Thankfully Ethan had not. He was probably keeping pace with Ivy, Lydia thought. It won’t be long until they catch up. She put extra oomph into her strides. There were people behind her, she knew. Some participants decided on a walk one jog one strategy for their 5k.
During her 9th lap, the man from the starting line caught her. “You can do it,” he huffed hotly. She gave him a thumbs up, high in the air. No breath would come to her. He winked at her, his stunning sapphire eyes full of reassurance and willpower.
Lydia neared the beekeeping nook as Kat passed her again. Ethan and Ivy hooted and waved as they ran by. Watching them overtake her swept Lydia up in the sudden pointlessness of her adventure. She slowed to a jog. She'd finish this race slow and steady. Her shoelaces didn't agree with her, and they wrapped around her aching feet. Lydia fell into the lavender, grazing her hand on the wooden fence that surrounded the bees.
One knee hit the dirt, and the other somehow jammed its way into her stomach. Thoroughly winded she crouched on the ground. She worked to suck in a decent gasp of air. Another runner rushed past her. She wondered if the 24-minute woman reached her goal.
A cluster of walkers noticed Lydia and offered to help her up. She waved them on. "I'm all right. Just have to get my bearings." They smiled sympathetically at her and walked on. Any minute Ethan would be back. She would not let him catch her resting.
Using a wooden post, she pulled herself to standing. Other than a splinter and a bruise on her left wrist she was okay. No twisted ankle. No torn ACL. She was fine, and she was grateful. Warily she pushed her way out onto the track. A fast walk would have to do until she was less rattled. She negotiated with her hips and arms to keep on chugging, and her quick stride returned. She rounded the corner of the track leaving the bees to their work.
Lap 10 Lydia was jogging again. She approached the area of her accident and noted a patch of lavender trampled. The dent in the purple waves made her wonder how many others fell when rounding that bend in the path.
With no sight of Kat or Ethan or Ivy, Lydia surmised she was the last of the group to be racing. At least I'm not alone. She bolstered herself on.
The next time she came up to the bees, the damaged lavender patch was larger. Lydia glanced around her. Not a runner in sight though she could hear the hit and scuffle of sneakers approaching.
An animal found its way into the lavender. Her mind flashed with scenes of Peabody, the goat, some years back, escaping his pen and eating half the merchandise at the Savory Sweet Bread booth.
Lydia had to help Berna secure her rambunctious pet. She plunged into the lavender. The scent of fresh cut stems married with the smashed buds was overpowering. She called to the runaway goat. How much lavender could one goat chomp before making himself sick?
A few steps more and she noticed an absence of goat droppings. The little black pellets that followed Peabody around the farm were missing altogether. Even the bottoms of her sneakers were poop free.
Suddenly, Lydia was nervous. She needed to turn around. She needed to find other people. Her ears strained. She heard no running feet and no winded jabber. She was alone. No one knew where to find her. The lavender didn’t grow as high as corn bu
t it was densely packed.
The wind shifted, and an exotic scent invaded the lavender. Shivers swirled in Lydia's stomach as Patchouli rode the breeze. Someone else was nearby.
There wasn’t a place to hide. They would have heard her, hollering after that stupid goat, already. Any path other than the one she followed out would damage more lavender and leave a fresher and more straightforward path to follow. Lydia patted her thighs, forgetting she had no pockets. Her phone was back with Flora, safe inside her purse, in the basket of Scout’s stroller.
Turning, dainty and quiet, Lydia baby stepped back towards the race. A groan from nearby changed her mind. She hunkered low. Perhaps she could crawl to the end of the field. The vandalized lavender path jutted to the left. Sticking out of the dead stalks was a foot. Lydia hurried closer. Turquoise nail polish glinted from the big toe, and a ring graced the middle one.
"Averie?" She recognized the yogi's bare feet. Lydia wanted to rush to Averie's side, but she didn't know if anyone else was in the lavender. She inched, painfully and low up to the ASMR artist. Averie's ashen skin was sticky with sweat. Her chest rose and fell in ragged, desperate breaths. Her cotton candy locks clumped together in a bloody knot.
“Averie, I’m here.” Lydia placed a palm on the woman’s shuddering shoulder. She was freezing. Lydia felt around Averie’s scalp and discovered a gash and a swelling knot.
Averie’s wound was no longer bleeding, but Averie was still in danger. Her lips were a slight blue color. "Listen, Averie, I'm here, but I have to leave you. I have to get help. Do you understand?" There was no response. Lydia hadn't expected one. The woman was so cold. Lydia slipped off her oversized t-shirt and draped it over Averie's chest. She wasn't sure it would help, but she couldn't leave her without something. "Lord, keep her safe, and give me the strength to run."
Lydia rose, took a deep cleansing breath, and set her course. She charged through the crushed lavender and back onto the trail. No one was around. She gathered an inhale and let it loose a scream. She screamed until her lungs held no more air. Then she ran. She gasped and shouted and lunged ahead. Her feet rose and fell, but Lydia didn't feel as if she was gaining any ground. "Please!" She yelled.
Looking at her feet, she urged her tired body to continue. She blasted into Ethan’s chest without registering his presence. When she lifted her head, she met Ethan’s questioning eyes. Without a word, she linked her fingers with his and dragged him back down the path. Walkers finishing their race shifted to the side of the track and let the couple pass.
“In there!” Lydia's breath heaved, and her lungs ridiculed her. She pointed out the hollow busted into the lavender.
“Stay here!" Lydia didn't respond. She didn't have the energy to explain. She only shook her head and followed Ethan to Averie's side.
Ethan checked Averie’s vitals and scanned the area. He whistled plaintively to himself and switched from husband mode into sheriff mode. Hustling footfalls came from the path.
“Over here!” Ethan shouted. Thad’s voice called down the trail. “Follow the crushed lavender.” He was there in a moment.
“Oh my,” he didn’t stay to chat or ask questions, “I’ll call Gus and the get Dr. Lawrence.” Thad took off.
“What happened?” Ethan asked. Lydia paced next to Averie’s feet.
“I don’t know. I saw the smashed plants and thought it was the goat. I found her, like this."
“It looks like she’s been here a while. A few hours at least.”
"No, that's not possible. The lavender was fine until I fell in it a couple of laps ago."
“You fell?”
“Yes, but I’m fine. What can I do to help?”
"Talk to her, while I flag down Gus. Don't touch more than you have to." Ethan stepped around Averie, and left the women, in search of help.
“Averie, I will not leave you. I will not leave you.”
Averie’s eyelids fluttered open. Lydia peered at her pupil thick eyes before they shut. “The shadow…” Averie whimpered and went limp.
Dr. Lawrence had the Ashton paramedic team at the field in less than 15 minutes, an unheard of time. They were on standby for the festival. They scooped Averie onto a stretcher and ran her out of the field on their way to Ashton. Lydia couldn’t comprehend their speed and stepped out of the way.
The lavender, now crunched to pieces made a sorry sight. Berna paced at the finish line awaiting news. Since the rest of the festival was a mile away, it continued without a hiccup. The vendors and guests remained unaware of the scene on the racetrack. Ethan shut it down. They escorted the last few walkers, from the scene.
Ethan watched Lydia from the corner of his eye. She melted onto the dirt, energy obliterated. Knees curled to her chest, she held off tears of stress. Ivy waited by the Brandes clan. Sam and Ever retrieved churros for the group. They nibbled their share, sneaking Scout fingertips of sugar without notice.
“Lyds,” Ethan’s voice didn’t register with Lydia. He fretted and touched her bare shoulder. “Lydia?” Her eyes looked into his, empty. He settled Gus’s hoodie onto her shoulders and guided her arms through the armholes. She startled. “There’s my girl, where did you go?”
Lydia shook her head. “Just praying for Averie. Do you think she’ll be okay? She looked like…”
"Death," Gus interjected, and Ethan glared at him.
In a flash of reality, Lydia remembered she was topless. She blushed and zipped up the hoodie. Ethan kissed her forehead.
“No one even noticed.” He whispered and pecked her cheek once more. She doubted that. “We need to talk, later. I think first you need to eat and drink something. Too much adrenaline for one morning. I will walk you back to Kat and Flora and then I’ve got to go talk to Maven.”
“I’d like to come with you.”
“Are you sure you can handle it?” Lydia’s eyebrow arched.
"Just get me some coffee and a pastry, and I'll reset." Now, Ethan's eyebrows curved in disapproval. "Promise."
"Okay, boss." He reached out a hand, and Lydia took it. She lifted to her feet but wobbled.
“I’m okay. There’s just something in my shoe.”
“Sure?”
“Positive.”
They crossed the finish line, walking and talking over the scene. She repeated all the same details. Lydia spotted the table of medals and awards. She wouldn't even qualify for a participation ribbon.
Kat’s eyes met hers from a folding chair near Flora. She shot out of her seat and tossed her arms around Lydia’s neck. “I thought something had happened to you.”
Flora’s hormonal eyes watered. She had thought the same. Lydia had not imagined they would panic about her. She felt guilty and appreciated, all at once. It was nice to have friends that worried.
“Can one of you grab her something to eat? We’re on our way to talk with Maven.”
Flora handed Lydia a thermos of black coffee and a small mason jar of creamer. Lydia gasped with pleasure. “I thought you’d need this after the race.” Lydia almost kissed Flora’s cheek for her thoughtfulness.
“And I bought you a churro,” Sam shouted, carting the sugar stick over to Lydia. “Mom says she has cheese for you too. I didn’t think you’d want that.”
Armed with fuel, Lydia mixed the creamer and coffee and swigged a molten sip before chomping on her churro. Sugar confetti-ed all over Gus’ black hoodie. She dusted it off, but it only smashed into the fabric. Hopefully, Maven wouldn’t be hypercritical of her attire.
Berna led the couple to Maven's room. It took three loud raps for Maven to answer. She opened it with a theatrical whoosh and wavered, unsteady on her legs. Her black hair stabbed out every which way from her head.
“Were you sleeping?” Lydia asked. It hadn’t been that long since she spotted Maven tromping past the racetrack. Could she have fallen that deeply asleep is such a short time? Perhaps it was later than Lydia knew. Time flashed and stalled for her once she discovered Averie.
Maven waved a s
haking hand at Lydia. “Averie had me up all night.” Ethan stepped into the door frame in time to steady Maven. She was trembling and slurring her words.
“Are you taking any medications?” Lydia asked craning to see into Maven’s darkened hotel room. Maven shook her head and mumbled. “Nothing to help you sleep, maybe?” Again, Maven shook her head. “Can we come inside?”
Maven grumbled and tossed an arm back toward her bedroom. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lydia said, as she and Ethan with Berna, close behind, entered the room. Berna went to a window and let in some fresh Honey Pot breeze.
“Shut it!” Maven shouted and then apologized for her loudness.
Lydia remembered their previous chat in the bathroom. “She has terrible hay fever. I bet she’s on antihistamines. They can make people goofy if they take too many.”
“Especially, if they’ve used alcohol as a chaser.” Berna held up three tiny liquor bottles. “I don’t stock these. She must have brought them with her.”
“Yep, adds up,” Ethan said, plopping the incoherent Maven into the room’s only office chair. “Berna, could you…”
The inn owner waved a tanned hand at Ethan’s request. “I’ll be right back with black coffee and some toast.” She was out of the room before the end of her statement.
Lydia worried over Maven. How could they explain Averie’s condition to her when she was in such bad shape? She retrieved a clean, cool washcloth from the bathroom, just as she’d done the night before. Only this time she placed the rag on Maven’s forehead.
Ethan knelt beside Maven's chair. Lydia scoured the room, looking for a water glass or bottle. Berna returned before she found one. "Here sweetie, here's some hot coffee. Double strength." She held a mug beneath Maven's mouth.
A pale arm lurched toward it and grabbed the mug. Brown liquid sloshed around but did not overflow. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I need to rest. Allergies always do this.” Maven sipped the coffee and sighed. “I boiled my taste buds.”
