George shakes his head impatiently and lays his hands on the table. “For how long? How much longer until this lockdown is over?”
Marc leans back and spits out a nail on the carpet. “I thought we wanted this confounded thing to end.”
George scowls at him and starts to leave. “You’re hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”
Chapter twenty-two
Susan
Amelia has a book open on her lap and is attempting to read it to me. I think she’s just trying to cheer me up. She’s such a sweetheart.
I’m only half heartedly paying attention though. My mind is swirling a mile a minute. The headache is still there, though it’s just a dull ache now.
I need to make some decisions. As much as I appreciate everyone’s eagerness to help me, I’m honestly on my own. I haven’t forgotten the advice George gave me earlier, comparing me to a pencil. I give a half smile. I know that comparison sounds funny, but it makes sense.
Now if I could only regain that strong mindset I had before, when I realized Amelia would be on her own if anything ever happened to me. I shake my head remembering how I honestly thought Mitch would never intend to kill me. Guess I was wrong. Which means I have to do something. I will not leave my baby defenseless.
It occurred to me to see about sending her to my mother for a while, but then she would start asking questions I’d rather not answer. Besides, Mitch is her father and I don’t think I could legally get away with hiding his daughter like that. I have no idea about the legal aspect of things like this. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to talk to Marc’s lawyer.
Amelia tugs on my sleeve. “Are you listening, mommy?”
I put an arm around her. “Yes, baby.”
Amelia is satisfied and goes back to pointing at the words and making up her own as she goes along.
My mother instilled within me that divorce should never be a first option or a quick fix. Running from your problems never solve anything. I agree wholeheartedly with her. I married Mitch for better or for worse, ‘till death do us part.
I can’t help choke up when I think of those solemn vows. Did they mean nothing to him? Do I mean nothing to him?
George
Over the last few minutes, Melody, Marc and Joseph dispersed. It’s just me here at the table, lost in thought with a plate of jelly crackers in front of me.
I can’t get over it. Why would Susan not want help? I get that she’s scared but being a prisoner to fear is no way to live. Actually, it keeps you from living. Maybe she just thinks if we tried to help it would make things worse. I totally understand that line of thinking. It’s just like dealing with a bully at school. The victim doesn’t tell the teacher because then the bully would take it out on them for telling.
But that’s not always the outcome. Often the bully just enjoys the power they wield and when they realize their target isn’t afraid to speak up, they stop.
I rub my eyes. I’m getting sleepy. It has to be at least two or two thirty by now. I consider working on a new play, but I have too much on my mind and wouldn’t be able to focus.
Maybe a quick power nap on the couch is just what I need.
Marc
It’s back to my office for me. If I had known I would be bored out of my mind, I would have brought more work to do. I wish my fellow captives were more interesting than weird. And all this talk about abusive relationships? It’s just a downer.
Take me for instance. I don’t ever need to get married. Why? Because I’m married to my work. Sure, I date women occasionally, but I’m particular when it comes to the female species. I don’t want to take some dim-witted duck to some fancy French restaurant and hear all about her fat cat and how it tried to climb the curtains and ended up pulling the whole thing down on it. Pets are a nuisance. No, Marc Amos has a reputation to uphold. I can’t be seen with just anyone in public.
That’s why I’m married to my work.
Suddenly there’s a knock at my office. I look up and see Joseph standing on the other side. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he’s wearing an amused expression.
I frown at him. “Do you have an appointment?”
He chuckles to himself. “Are you serious?”
Of all the nerve. I sit up straighter. “Very serious.”
He shrugs. “Okay, fine. Do you have any openings?”
I just know he’s mocking me now. I’ll show him. “Perhaps. Who wants to see him?”
Joseph tilts his head. “Me.”
I nod. “I see. In that case, no.”
Joseph sighs sadly. “That’s too bad. I wanted to talk to you about improving your little fort.”
Joseph
Marc is offended when I refer to his hideout as a fort. It doesn’t take much to offend him though. Mom would say I ruffled his feathers.
Marc folds his arms. “This is no childish fort. This is an office.”
I take in the sight of his so-called office and shake my head. “If you say so.”
He narrows his eyes in a distrusting way. “What exactly did you mean by improvements?”
“You have the chairs facing the wrong way.” I say matter of factly.
If I thought he was offend before, he’s really upset now. He stands up and walks around his poorly built wall to face me. “You dare to criticize my handiwork? I’ll have you know this is the best I could do with the lack of martials. You think you could do better?”
He’s trying to challenge me. I keep a straight face when I answer, “Considering I have a degree in engineering, I know that I could do better.”
Marc scoffs at me. “Prove it.”
Melody
I return the magazine to the shelf and select another one. I’ve come to the conclusion that George was misinformed when he told me earlier that magazines are harmful to the environment. Why would magazines like, Discover Planet Earth and Recycling Fundamentals, contribute to destroying our home?
Everyone seems to have a purpose right now. George is taking a nap on the couch and Joseph is helping Marc fix up his play house. I’m so happy to see them getting along. It shows there’s hope for them.
Speaking of hope, I know there’s hope for Susan. I want to go see how she’s doing, but I also want to give her the space she needs.
I check the clock on the wall. It’s almost three. I can’t believe we’ve been here for over twenty-two hours! Outside, the afternoon is bright and sunny. Any lingering signs of the rain is long gone and dried up.
I wonder if we’ll have to spend dinner time here as well. I hope not, food options are getting pretty slim. I suddenly gasp! What if we are here so long that we run out of food? Will we become an infamous group like the Donner party? The poor librarian in the back would not like that.
I wonder how she’s holding up and if she found the pancakes I left her. It would be nice if she joined us, but I understand that she’s just afraid. I just realized that I don’t know her name. I think she looks like a Janet.
I think I will go and see Susan. Not just to check on her, but so I’m not alone. Thinking of a modern-day Donner party in this library is giving me chills.
Chapter twenty-three
Susan
I look up when I notice Melody walking over to us. I inwardly sigh. I don’t want to be annoyed with her. I don’t like the way I’m feeling right now. It’s not who I am.
Melody cheerfully smiles and says, “Hi.”
I nod in return, not sure what else to say. Amelia on the other hand, gives a big toothy grin.
Melody stands in front of us and asks, “Mind if I join you?”
I do sort of mind actually, but I don’t want to be nasty. Melody isn’t to blame and I shouldn’t be cross with her or anyone else here. I should be taking all this pent-up frustration and anger and directing it toward finding a way to fix this mess.
I make room for Melody and she sits down cross legged beside me. She looks down at the book in Amelia’s lap and inquires, “What are you reading?”
Amelia holds up the book and points to the cover, Five Frogs in the Pond. Melody smiles, “It looks toad-ally cool!”
Amelia laughs at the play on words and I find myself cracking a smile as well. Maybe Melody being here is just what I need.
We are quiet as Amelia goes back to reading. Melody listens intently and I have to wonder if she is really as interested as she seems.
Suddenly Amelia loudly announces, “The end!” After she snaps the book shut, she gets up to find another one. It’s just me and Melody now.
She looks at me and says, “Children’s books today are so creative.” I guess she really was intrigued. I shouldn’t be surprised, Melody has a childish innocence about her.
There’s something I’ve been wanting to know that’s been bothering me for a while. I do my best to keep my voice level. “Did you tell them what he said?”
Melody doesn’t hesitate. She shakes her head. “No. It’s not my place to tell.”
Relief floods through me but before I can reply, she continues, “But you really should tell them. We just want to help you.”
Just then Amelia returns with another book and the conversation drops.
George
I’m not sure what woke me up, but I’m up now and I have a crick in my neck. Just peachy. I grunt as I sit up and rub the back of my neck and turn my head slowly from side to side, trying to work it out. That’s what I get for sleeping on a couch. It was uncomfortable anyway. I don’t know how that kid did it earlier.
Speaking of the kid, her books are scattered on the floor. Man, the librarians aren’t going to like the mess we’ve made. From Marc and Joseph building over in the corner, food crumbs and sticky blobs of jelly on the table and books scattered on the floor.
I spot one of those kiddie books I was reading to Amelia earlier. I roll my eyes and pick it up. Flipping through the pages, I notice there’s no more than a paragraph or two of writing on each page. It’s mostly illustrations. Seems to me like these books take next to no work.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure writing and publishing these kinds of books are no walk in the park. And I get that some kids have little to no attention span for reading and it would take a special book for both parents and kids to enjoy. But they sure beat what I’ve been failing at.
Writing plays or books for more advance readers takes a lot out of you. You’ve got to be able to tug a few heart strings and make the reader really feel something.
Frankly, I was amazed that Amelia enjoyed the story I was telling her about my dumb dogs. All I did was give an account of a real event and put it in kid terms.
Never in my life have I ever considered doing kid’s books. Let’s face the cold hard truth. My plays stink. Maybe I could try something new…
Marc
It’s very rare when someone genuinely leaves me speechless. This is one of those occasions. I step back and study my office. Although Joseph didn’t use any new materials, a lot of the holes and spaces in the wall are gone. And all he did was move a few chairs around.
I slowly look at him and narrow my eyes. “Who are you, really?”
Joseph laughs. “Like I told you, I have a degree in engineering. I’ve always enjoyed taking things apart and putting them back together,” he pauses, a far off look in his eye. “I never thought I could put my life back together, but I feel in control doing things like this,” he says gesturing to my office.
I nod. It seems we both enjoy having control.
“Who’s your employer?” From his ruffian appearance, I assume he works at a construction site or in a small office.
When he doesn’t say anything right away I raise my eyebrows. “You are employed, aren’t you?”
He shakes his head. “I was. Turns out the big guys at head quarters don’t appreciate it when the little guy thinks for himself.”
I’m thoroughly intrigued now. “What happened?”
Joseph scratches the back of his neck. “I was a drafter and created blueprints. There was an important flaw on the plans I was given and I took the liberty of fixing it myself. I guess I should have mentioned it to someone, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I had a lot on my mind.”
Tough. I look back my office. He knows his trade.
“Are you currently looking for a job?”
“Sure, but I can’t get a break. No one will hire a free thinker. Besides, I’ve always wanted to be my own boss.”
I frown. “But I thought engineering was all about creating and testing out new designs.” My mind travels downtown to the city where I work. The buildings are massive and all unique. Some made entirely out of glass, while others seem to defy the law of gravity.
Joseph shakes his head. “The problem was that I made someone look bad. Someone who has higher connections.”
Ah. That explains it. I’ve seen that sort of thing a dozen times. Still, it’s a shame.
“Say, do you think you could take a look at my original office upstairs and see what you could do? Maybe even give it a roof?”
Joseph
It’s hard to believe Marc and I are both up here again. And what’s more, I ‘m actually helping him. I guess forgiveness really does begin the healing process.
This little cave he has up here is better than the other one, but I still noticed a couple things that could make it better. Like laying the books horizontally like bricks instead of standing them up straight. Aside from that, there isn’t much else we could with a lack of supplies.
Marc brightens when I suggest draping a light weight material over the top for a roof. I guess he never went camping under the kitchen table when he was a kid. Nick and I would spend hours pretending we were out in the wilderness being stalked by mountain lions and bears.
It takes a while to make the adjustments to his specifications, but once we finish, Marc studies it approvingly. He takes a quick walk around it and then turns to me.
“I just can’t get over this. You have some real skill. And I don’t hand out compliments lightly.”
I have a snarky comeback ready, but I swallow down the urge to say it. No sense starting something when he’s actually being nice.
So instead I settle for, “Thanks.”
He has a curious expression on his face and I can see he’s scheming. He taps his chin. “You know, I could really use someone like you at my company.”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “I have no intention of being used.”
He shakes his head impatiently. “My office really needs a face lift. I could hire you as my personal designer or whatever the technical term is.”
“I don’t take charity.” Marc scowls at me, I don’t think he understands the word no.
“Fine, then you can work for free.”
“Not a chance. No offense, but your company is the last place I’d ever want to work.”
Marc starts to open his mouth but stops. He finally gets the idea. Working at the company that was responsible for killing my mom is out of the question.
Marc glances back at his office and then back at me. “You mentioned something about starting your own company?”
Melody
In total, Amelia reads us nine books before she finally falls asleep. The poor soul is worn out. She’s had a long day.
Susan left a little bit ago to use the restroom. She left Amelia in my care. After all that’s happened, I’m honored that she trusts me with her daughter.
I lightly brush the hair out of Amelia’s face. She’s blessed to have such a brave mom. I don’t care what anyone says, Susan is a strong woman and the love she has for Amelia shines through. I just wish she would let us help her.
I find it extremely odd that mothers have been coming up in a lot in our conversations. Joseph’s mom, Susan’s mom, and…
I’m thinking of my mom now. Maybe this is God’s way of telling me to finally deal with my problem.
After dad left her, mom turned to worldly things. She remarried a guy named Frank and soon after I turned twenty, they kicked me
out of the house. Thankfully I had a decent job and was able to get my own apartment.
I haven’t spoken to mom since. For the longest time I was bitter towards her. Now I just mostly feel bad for her. Her life was spiraling downhill right before I left. I can’t even imagine what she’s doing now.
Just then Susan returns. She offers a faint smile and sits down beside me. Patting Amelia’s hair, she asks, “Did she wake up at all?”
“No, she’s sleeping really good.”
Susan leans back against the wall and yawns. “I’m about ready to fall asleep myself.”
“You can if you’d like. I’ll stay here and wake you if Amelia needs you.”
Susan stifles another yawn. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. You’ve been up all day.”
Susan doesn’t need to be told twice. She lays down beside Amelia and curls up in a ball. After all the stress she’s been under, she needs the rest. And I’m happy to help her in any way I can.
Chapter twenty-four
Susan
I suddenly wake up in a cold sweat and cry out for Amelia. A soft hand pats my arm and I hear Melody’s soothing voice, “It’s okay. Amelia is right next to you.”
I take a deep breath and try to control my growing panic. Slowly I sit up and my head spins.
“That was so scary.”
Melody starts rubbing my back. “It was only a nightmare.”
I shake my head, which only makes it feel worse. “No. This was real. At least it felt real. The sights and sounds were exact. It was terrifying.”
Melody tilts her head, considering what I said. “I’ve had dreams like that too. But in the end, it’s still just a dream.”
24 Hour Lockdown Page 12
