by Debbie Zello
Found in Understanding
The Refuge Series Book Three
Copyright 2018 by Debbie Zello
All rights Reserved
Cover Model Kennedy Gilbertson
Cover Design by Tiffany Huegle
Poem by Alan Walker
Edited by Deneale Williams
Beta Reader Randy Reynolds
Interior Design by Darkmantle Designs
Photographer James Newton of Bei Ritratti
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author
Thank you for supporting authors by purchasing books and complying with copyright laws.
This is a work of fiction.
any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Written and printed in the United States of America
DEDICATION
No book is ever published without a long list of supportive people. My list is very long.
From the moment a story pops into my dreams, to the holding of the printed page, I’m indebted to so many. I want to thank everyone that had any part in the completion of this book. You’re my support and I’m so grateful.
To the readers that spend their hard earned money on my books and the books of any author, my deepest gratitude. You enable us to fulfill our dreams and hopefully entertain you for a time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
There There Now
There are times
when the cutting words go deep
and the pain of neglect remains
as memories continue to hurt
with every daily recollection
But she puts up her own
fresh cut flowers
just to compensate and cope
Alan Walker
Poet_by_write
Sweet Sorrow
If you ever go looking
you'll find her in a familiar place
Unmarked by clues or directions
as everyone knows the way
She's sitting where you expect
among the thickest overgrowth
cloaked in a soft solitary sorrow
but still willing to offer a corner for warmth
Alan Walker
Poet_by_write
Chapter One
I have always been a big fan of colloquialisms. As an English major, I found them and their origins fascinating. Stand and fight like a man is one that I have always found most interesting. It is attributed to the Civil War soldiers that faced each other on the field and fired away. Why in the world would you stand there and be shot? Because someone said you were a man if you did. That’s the power of words.
My mother had a complete repertoire of sayings appropriate for every situation or gathering she attended. One of my all-time favorites was “The month of April is for foolish people and foolish decisions.” As a result, I’ve always tried to save my foolishness for April.
I was three when my parents and sister walked down the dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust behind us. We had taken a bus there, I remember that, as it was my first ride on a bus.
The road ended in a clearing with four buildings visible before us. I couldn’t read then, but there was a painted wooden sign that read, ‘Sunrise Ranch’ over the largest of the buildings, I learned later, after I could read.
People busily walked around, obviously working on some project or another, no one paying much attention to our presence. I was holding onto the strap attached to the suitcase my dad was carrying. Spotting a little boy about my size, I dropped the strap and began to walk over to him.
From around the corner a giant with a kind smile strode with purpose in my direction. My three-year-old feet planted themselves where they stood. He was huge in height and girth. He wore a wife-beater that brought to my young mind he must be The Incredible Hulk before he turns green. His muscular shoulders, arms and chest were wet with sweat.
He was a few feet from me when he dropped down to my level and said, “Who are you, pretty girl? My name is Sky.” Of course your name is Sky. That’s because you can actually touch it. See, I had everything worked out.
I said nothing as I was still crushing on the hulk thing. He stood and extended his hand to my father. They introduced themselves and my sister and me to Sky. My parents explained that we had fallen on hard times. With no jobs and an extended family that had problems of their own, we had no place to go. “How did you find out about us?” Sky asked.
“A woman outside a restaurant gave us sandwiches. She told us that you might be able to take us in,” my dad said looking more tired and old than I had ever seen him look.
“We’ll take you in. There’s room for you in the main house. Grey is the teacher for your girls. School is every morning until lunch then they’ll have jobs to do in the afternoon.
“June passes out the work assignments for the adults. Everyone here works or you can’t stay. We farm, make crafts, jellies, relishes, that sort of thing and sell them at the farmer’s market in town.
“We don’t live our pasts here; that includes names,” he said once again dropping down to look at me. “You’re Firelight from now on. I can see your fire, little one. You also have the soft light from the dawn and the sunset in you.”
My mom was given the name of Fawn because of her long brown hair and freckles. My dad was called Archer after a few days of hunting and coming back with dinner. My sister, Dove, as she was so fair in her complexion.
We were told we were all equal in each other’s sight. No one was necessarily the leader but we soon came to realize that Sky was the one everybody went to with any question or difficulty.
I had thirteen mothers, seventeen fathers and eleven brothers and sisters. Every adult was responsible for the children and every child considered each adult as a parent.
Every night, even in the heat of the summer, we had a central fire where we all gathered to talk. Arguments were settled in front of everyone. There was no hiding where something could fester and turn into an ugly confrontation. Your problems were brought forth daily, churned around and finished before you went to bed. If governments operated in the same fashion with each other, imagine what the world would be like.
Grey, named after the color of her hair, had been a teacher in her former life. She found the ranch doing an article for a magazine. She was there for two hours and decided to stay. Her retirement check, like all funds, were put into one account and went to all of our living expenses.
Grey taught me how to read, write and “figure,” which is what she called math. She told us children every day how smart we were, how far we could go and what great adults we would be some day. I swear she wrote the book on positive speech, pulling negative people into the light. When you left her school room every day, you felt like you could fly without wings.
My first afternoon job was to put the sticky labels on the jars of jams and jellies. My tiny fingers would smooth the labels leaving no bubbles behind. I took great pleasure and pride in my little task. I felt, even at my young age, I was accomplishing something, which was a great life lesson.
Even though Sky would never admit it, I was one of his favorites. He would sit on a tree stump and I would braid his long auburn hair. Then I would sit on his lap and put several braids in his beard, tying them with my pink elastics. That huge burly man, who could break me in half without sweating from the exertion, would wear those braids for days just for me.
Walking with my sister through the tall grass one morning, we extended our arms out like wings and began running, feeling the grass whip against our skin. Sky found us laughing as we ran. He grabbed u
s and swung us around so fast it made me dizzy. He set us down and we wobbled around, finally falling, giggling, to the ground.
He sat next to us and said softly, “The tall grass is a fun place to play. But it’s dangerous too. Some animal might think that you, Firelight, might make a nice dinner for his family. He could scoop you up and we would never know what happened to you. You, Dove, you’re bigger, but there are some animals bigger, too.
“I know you want to play here, and I want you to. But if you’re going to play here away from the buildings and us, you have to ask one of the adults to come with you. Do you understand?”
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t want to be anybody’s dinner but you!” I jumped at him knocking him back as I land on his chest. He ran his hand over my head and smoothed down my hair. I’m sure that some outsider coming on this scene would have made something perverted out of it. If you knew Sky, you would see the ridiculousness of that idea.
My jobs became more challenging as I grew. So did the schoolwork that was expected of me. I was that kid…the one that would have preferred to play all day. It wasn’t that I was lazy; I just couldn’t see the point. I could work in the garden, help clean the dorms, and cook without an education.
Then one day, Sky found me goofing off instead of doing my schoolwork. He had that ‘I’m-not-taking-any-shit-from-you-today’ look on his face and I knew I was dog-meat.
“I’m told that you don’t want to go to school anymore,” he said fixing me with his glare.
“So?” I replied, with my defiant stance clearly visible to anyone looking.
“If you don’t go to school and make something of yourself, what is going to happen to you?”
“I don’t know,” I said pulling myself up to my full ten-year-old height.
“Well, I do. You’ll stay here, doing nothing but chores. You’ll have all of us until we die, then you’ll have no one. No husband or kids. No life of your own. No future, no past. Does that sound like something you want?”
I have to hand it to him. To this day, I have never heard him raise his voice. Even when he was telling my sister and me that we could be eaten in the grass, it wasn’t scary because of the soft tone he used. This man could crush a tank with his bare hands, yet he was as gentle as a lamb.
I went back to school, as he knew I would. The very last thing I wanted was to be a disappointment to Sky. I’d rather cut off my arm and beat myself silly with it than to have him think badly of me.
People came and went in our little commune. They would wander in much the same as I did. They’d stay, or at our nightly fire, they’d be asked to leave. If you didn’t fit in, didn’t want to work, or stole anything, you were gone. There weren’t many rules and the few we had were voted on.
Drinking, smoking, and taking drugs were not permitted. If it was determined that you were using, you were confronted at the fire and asked to leave. That was funny because we knew what the townspeople said about us “drug-using sex-crazed hippies.” Most of the time, you would be hard pressed to find an aspirin to take. As far as sex went, I believe, even though I can’t prove it, even my parents stopped after we moved here. It was like living with the Shakers.
I finally made it to the ripe old age of thirteen. Once again, I had to have my growing up talk with Sky. “Grey tells me it’s time for you to go to a regular school. She said she has taught you everything she can. You need to take specific courses so you can go to college.”
“I don’t want to go to college,” I said with that fire he saw at my naming.
“You can’t always get what you want, Firelight. Sometimes you have to do what you’re told. The state says you have to go to a regular school from now on. Just like your sister and the other older kids do. You’re not a baby anymore,” he said stooping down to my level.
“I don’t want to,” I repeated.
“You’ll be back every day after school. You’ll only have chores on the weekend and vacations.”
I played my best card and threw my arms around him crying on his shoulder, “I don’t want to leave you.”
I felt his grin on my cheek, it was working! “I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a deal. You go to school and study hard. You do your homework without complaints and get good grades. I’ll let you come and work the farmers’ market with me every Saturday.”
“I can ride in the truck with you?”
“You can ride in the truck with me,” he said smiling.
“Deal! Shake on it,” I said extending my hand. He took my small hand in his dry, well-used paw and shook it. I was so happy I thought I had made the deal of my life. Sky walked away grinning because he knew he was going to work the living-shit out of me.
Chapter Two
Two weeks before the new school year was due to start, my mom went into town to get me registered just as she had done for my sister. Dove did her best to prepare me for what going to regular school meant for outsiders like us. She and the other kids were in high school, which meant I would be alone in eighth grade. Alone with some four hundred other kids.
Beaver, (don’t ask, because I have no idea how she got her name and frankly I don’t want to know) made sure all of us kids had clean clothes to wear to regular school. It was important to our well-being to blend in as much as possible.
I found myself kicking the dirt out of my way walking down to the bus that first day of school. I looked back just before my feet left the crest of the hill to see Sky standing there watching me. I thought he looked so sad, as if he was watching me leave for the last time. I realized much later that was exactly what was happening. The girl that left for school that morning wasn’t the same one that came back that afternoon.
The bus ride was the usual sit-with-the-friend-you’ve-had-for-ten-years. That was fine, I like my own company anyway. I got to school wide-eyed at the size of the building and the overwhelming fear I was going to be constantly lost.
With my admission paper in hand, I found my way to the office and stood in line until I reached an older but still very pretty woman whose name tag read Mrs. Cheshnow. “How can I help you, dear?”
“This is my first day and I have these papers for you,” I said, trying to sound professional.
“Welcome, and I think you’ll like it here. This is a folder with a map and your class list. Some information on our clubs and athletic programs is also in there. The e-mail addresses for all of the teachers and their office hours for extra help is on a separate sheet. If you have any other questions, feel free to stop back in and one of us can help you. Good luck!” she said with a wide smile, pointing the direction I should go out.
I’m glad there were no mirrors around because I would probably have run out the door upon seeing the shell-shocked look I’m sure was on my face. The teachers were all standing in the hall directing people and greeting everyone. I was passed between them as I asked repeatedly where my homeroom was.
I finally found room 67, slid through the door and found an empty seat. I kept my head down but felt the eyes of everyone in the room settle on me. Why is it when you think you’re whispering you’re actually being heard quite well? I heard “Who is that? Those clothes…ugh! I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that!”
Kids can be cruel. They’re direct and don’t filter their thoughts very well.
The teacher came in and picked up the clipboard from her desk. She said, “Welcome back everyone. I’m Mrs. Blake. This is your homeroom where attendance is taken and school information is passed out. Some of you will be back here for English, but for the most part, you’re here just first thing in the morning.”
“Please raise your hand and say ‘here’ when I call your name.” She began calling out names and the students responded as asked. I kept my eyes firmly on the back of the girl that sat in front of me. “Neomi Dillon?” Her question met by silence. She said the name again with everyone including me looking for Neomi Dillon.
Mrs. Blake’s eyes set on me. “Are you Neomi Dillon?” she asked.
I could hear the whispering begin anew. “She doesn’t even know her name?” “You’re kiddin’, right?” “Nobody’s that dumb.”
Slowly I nodded. I didn’t know for sure if I was Neomi Dillon but I was claiming her name. “Your name is Neomi, right?” she asked again to further draw attention to me.
“My name is Firelight. That’s the only name I’ve ever known. If no one else is Neomi Dillon then I guess she must be me or I must be her,” I said quietly. But the room was even quieter than my voice. Within seconds of my declaration the entire room erupted into laughter, pointing and cruelty.
I picked up my folder and ran from the room as fast as my legs could carry me. Problem was, I had no idea where to run to. I fled down the hall turning corner after corner until I found a sign for a ladies’ bathroom. Slamming the door open and bolting into a stall I sat on the toilet and let the tears come.
I’m so stupid I don’t even know my own name. I was so mad at my parents and Sky for sending me out into this world with no armor, and no protection. I was raised to love and forgive and not to judge and my first challenge is I… don’t…know…my…own…name.
I heard a bell ring and the noise of hundreds of voices just outside the bathroom door. Fearing that someone was about to come in I locked the stall door and sat back down.
The main door swung open and someone wearing heals clicked in. I had passed the bawling part of my misery and had moved on to the shoulder shaking sniffles and gasping. “Are you okay?” I heard. I remained still. “Hello in there. Are you all right? Can I help?” She said knocking on the stall door.
Feeling she wouldn’t go away until I spoke I said, “I’m fine.”
“Are you a student?”
“Yes.”
“This is a faculty bathroom. It’s not for students,” she said matter-of-factly.
Strike two. You don’t know your name nor can you read “Faculty Bathroom.”
