Little Lost Girl: The Complete Series

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Little Lost Girl: The Complete Series Page 5

by Angelique S. Anderson


  Star clenched her hands at her sides. Her young mind was reeling, and she understood only some of what she was hearing. If she could just see her daddy and talk to him, she knew he would feel better.

  A woman who introduced herself as a nurse stepped out into the waiting room and called Betty’s name. Her stepmother took Star’s hand and followed the nurse. Faith declined to join them and remained seated in the waiting room, her eyes damp with sadness.

  It had been almost three months since Star had seen her father, and she was so anxious to hug him, she almost cried. When they walked into his room, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, gazing out the window. He was clean-shaven, and his chestnut hair was neatly combed. Star ran up to him crying,

  “Daddy! I missed you so much!” Her father lifted one hand and gave her a pat on the back, answering in a monotone,

  “Hello, I missed you too.”

  Star stepped away and gazed at her father with deep concern. He blinked and didn’t seem to recognize her. He didn’t smile at her presence, and his expression remained cool and aloof, as if meeting a stranger’s child for the first time and not caring.

  Star felt a flood of emotions, the most painful being rejection. She looked at her stepmom for reassurance, but Betty gazed back with a wry half-smile. Star looked at her dad, uncertain of what she should do. She wanted to hug him, feel his arms around her, or at least hold his hand and laugh with him. She wanted to ask about his adventure and inquire about why he had left home. Yet, the man who looked at her was a stranger. It was not her dad. He stared at her with vacant black eyes as if his soul had been taken.

  A tense silence hung in the air between them, making Star feel uneasy and frightened. Finally, she asked,

  “When are you going to come home, daddy?” The man she no longer knew looked at her, or rather, looked through her. The corners of his mouth were turned down, and the sparkle was gone from his eyes. He didn’t answer. He slowly looked to Betty, who said,

  “We don’t know yet, Star. We might find out today. Why don’t you go sit in the waiting room with Faith…I want to talk to your dad and the doctor.”

  Feeling lost and alone, Star had no resolve left to argue, so she kissed her dad on the cheek, told him she loved him, and left the room.

  While sitting next to Faith in the waiting room, Star was awash in feelings that she had hoped were buried in her past. Loneliness rose up and grabbed her like a black-clawed monster, reminding her that she was not worthy—she did not deserve a mommy who loved her, and now she knew she didn’t deserve a daddy either. A gut-wrenching fear settled on her. It was a terrible feeling she had experienced before, and now it was back, but more familiar and stronger.

  It was the fear that she was doomed to be alone, unloved, and unwanted, maybe for the rest of her life. She shifted on the hard fiberglass chair next to Faith, pulling her knees up and onto the chair so she could curl up and fall asleep.

  After that day, Star lost track of time. Eventually, her father came home. When she saw him walk through the door, she felt anger. She couldn’t understand how it was possible for him to be so sick he couldn’t remember her. She felt hurt that he had abandoned her again; but when he saw her, he gathered her up in his arms and told her he missed her and loved her. A small sense of relief washed over her, but the days after that did little to reassure her.

  Star’s father was not the man he was the day he walked out of her life. He had no energy, and he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He swallowed down pills several times a day and kept to himself, reading and studying chess books. Finally, he opened up a little and taught Star how to play chess. She loved having him back but didn’t love that he was just a shell of who he used to be. She wondered if her drunk, happy daddy was better than this complacent man who sat across from her day after day.

  Her family’s situation had obviously changed. Star’s father would not be going to Puget Sound College to teach math. In fact, he would not be able to work again. It was just a matter of time before Star’s parents would face another life-changing discussion about what to do next. Eventually, they decided that returning to Montana was the best option. Star’s grandfather was there and could help her dad get better.

  The family packed their belongings and drove back to Montana.

  Time to Go Home

  Chapter 4

  The move back to Montana was the best thing to happen to Star’s family. Once again, after life kicked up an unexpected storm, things got better once the dust settled. Star’s grandfather had moved into a larger place, but they only stayed with him for a short time. Her father soon began receiving disability payments from the state because of his mental illness, and Betty had been on disability all along because of her multiple personality disorder.

  Not long after returning to Montana, Star’s parents contacted their former pastor and resumed attending church. They both quit smoking and drinking, and they managed to take their medication regularly. Star enrolled in another new school, but she was able to make and keep friends because her clothes no longer smelled like smoke and stale beer.

  A duplex became available next door to their pastor and Star’s family moved in. With her own room and a big back yard to make snowmen in the winter, Star’s life was the best it had ever been. She was, however, a damaged child, and it began to show up in ways no one noticed at first. She got into the habit of stealing books from local stores where her family shopped, slipping them under her shirt and hiding them under her bed at home. Her favorite was Archie comics, and she had accumulated quite a few before her stepmother caught her.

  The day that Star was caught red-handed, Betty made her return the book she had hidden under her shirt, and she had to apologize to the store manager. When she got home, she had to write two hundred times: “I will not steal.”

  Star learned her lesson and didn’t steal any more books after that. Instead, she became disruptive in class, making jokes and talking. She loved to talk. She loved having friends for the first time in her young life.

  All the joys of everyday life that a child could hope for were in Star’s grasp, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. She loved church; it was the one place she felt peace. Her parents were taking their medications, and Betty taught her how to crochet and bake.

  As the winter holidays approached, their house filled with the aroma of fresh-baked apple pies and pumpkin spices. Star’s favorite was homemade bread that her stepmom placed in tins around the house. They had to sit out for a day or two “so the yeast could rise,” Betty explained.

  Winter was Star’s favorite season because she could go sledding and build snowmen. The snow fell, the holidays passed, and her days and nights were happy and peaceful.

  Decisions

  Chapter 5

  One afternoon, Star came home from school and knew what was happening before a word was said. She could feel change in the air the moment she walked in the door. Her instincts told her another storm was brewing. She didn’t know how fast her life would change or how bad it would be, but the opening salvo was always the same: “Star, please come here…we need to talk to you.”

  Star’s heart sank like a boulder in a pond. Her throat tightened and she broke out in a cold sweat, knowing what those words had always meant. She knew that whatever came next would bring unhappiness and turmoil into her life. She had no idea how miserable her life was about to become.

  “Star, honey, we are moving.”

  “Moving? Where?” Those two words were all that Star could manage before her throat closed, constricting her breath. Now in fourth grade, she had finally found friends, a sense of belonging, and a taste of happiness. In that moment, she hated herself for allowing those feelings to take root. She knew better. She felt stupid for thinking things could or would ever get better.

  “We’re moving to Las Vegas.” Star’s heart pounded and her mood sank even deeper into despair as she thought back to the cruel nanny who used to eat all the foo
d, leaving her hungry. She recalled the night her parents had confessed their gambling addiction to her and told her they were sending her away—and she knew that if her parents returned there, it would bring misery for all of them.

  “I don’t want to go to Las Vegas. I hate Las Vegas!” Star’s eyes filled with tears and her heart was breaking in a dozen different ways for a dozen different reasons. Then Betty delivered the ultimate blow, and everything that mattered in Star’s life came crashing down.

  “You aren’t going with us, Star. You are staying here.” There was a smirk on Betty’s face—a peculiar, evil glint in her eye that Star had only seen when her stepmother’s darker personalities surfaced. Star stood frozen, staring in disbelief at her stepmother, who stood with her hands on her hips glaring back.

  Betty’s attitude was cold and uncaring, so different from the woman Star had loved as a stepmother. This was the cruel, sadistic woman who had smiled when she dropped Star off at the airport several years ago; the one who came out during drunken rants and ordered her to leave the house, even late at night.

  Star tried to comprehend how her parents had reached this point and the total destruction of their safety network. She was only ten years old; yet, it felt as if her life was over. Once again, she would lose her parents, her friends, her school. Then the worst thought of all blasted into her mind as Betty’s words sank in.

  “Wait…what do you mean, I’m staying here?” Star asked. “Where will I go if I don’t go with you?” She held her breath waiting for the answer. If Betty said that she would be staying with her grandpa, life wouldn’t be bad at all.

  She loved the Saturdays she spent with him. They had a ritual—a Happy Meal at McDonalds; a walk through Star’s favorite store that offered toys from under ten dollars; a stroll through the park to feed the ducks. Sometimes, when grandpa was low on money, they would go to McDonalds, window shop at the mall, and go straight to the park. He always held her hand when they walked and called her “little sweetie.”

  When they weren’t talking, he was humming a song. On the rare weekends he wasn’t able to see her, he always called. Even when they had lived in Washington with Faith, her grandpa called every Saturday like clockwork. Although Star was only ten years old, her young mind understood those talks, and her grandpa’s steady reassurance and affirmation of his love for her kept her grounded. He was the one human being who had remained stable throughout her life.

  “We found a family at church to take you,” Betty said in a cold tone that matched her icy smile. The cruel, uncaring personality that had turned Star’s life upside-down before was in full control, fighting a war of wills with a ten-year-old, and once again, Betty had won.

  Star gave her dad a pleading look and hoped he would say something, anything, to make her feel better. She hoped with all her heart that he would say just one thing to make her feel safe. He stared at the floor. That moment when he said nothing to protect or defend her…when he failed to stand up to her stepmother and say it wasn’t right…was the moment Star gave up. She realized he would never love her enough to protect her.

  Something about Betty made him weak. He showed his cowardice when Star was six and he allowed her to be sent her away to live with Diane—and he was showing it now, as Betty informed her that she was being handed off to another set of strangers with as little concern as she would have tossing trash in the dumpster.

  The realization that Star’s parents didn’t care about her was a turning point in her life. She collected what little emotion she had left and shoved it so deep inside, she was sure she would love no one other than her grandpa ever again.

  “So who are they?” Star asked, shoving her hands in her pockets. She was determined to do everything in her power to show that she didn’t care, no matter where she ended up.

  “Jim and Darcy Johnson from church have agreed to take you,” Betty replied.

  Star closed her eyes for a moment, trying to place the couple in her mind. She had hoped her parents would send her off to a family with kids, but when she couldn’t place the Johnsons, she knew they had no children. She attended Sunday school and youth group often enough to know all the parents, and the Johnsons had no kids.

  “Oh,” Star said in a monotone as all of the memories of the past flooded into her mind. Suddenly, she realized how much her stepmom disliked her—and she knew why. Betty was jealous of a little girl. She didn’t want to share Star’s father or his attention. Everything made sense now…the excuses to send her away to live with strangers, the personalities not wanting her around, and now this. Her stepmother was jealous, and Star would pay dearly because of it.

  The Couple

  Chapter 6

  The sense of emptiness had grown from a dark, engulfing cloud into a bottomless pit. Star practiced going through the motions of being happy, and she became good at it. But inside, she was afraid nothing real was left. She developed a tough facade; sometimes, it took all her resolve to keep a smile on her face and pretend to be happy when it was expected.

  Jim and Darcy were older, both with graying hair, and financially stable. Darcy owned a hair salon and Jim owned a landscaping business. They were unlike anyone Star had ever known. Their home was lovely and well maintained. Every room had perfectly matched décor, every corner was clean, and every knickknack was in its designated place. They gave Star her own room. It was a beautiful room, decorated in rich lavender, with lovely balloon curtains and a matching bedspread.

  Star settled in well and began to relax. Life with Jim and Darcy was as close to perfect as she could imagine. She saw her grandpa almost every weekend, and when she couldn’t spend time with him because she was working for Darcy at the salon, he made it a point to call and ask how she was doing. He always told her that he loved her, and he always called her his “little sweetie,” a nickname he would continue to use long after she had grown up.

  Jim and Darcy treated Star with kindness, but they were strict. They taught her to work hard, to be clean, and to have manners. They bought her nice things, and if she did her chores well, she earned an allowance. Eventually, she earned and saved enough to open a savings account. She enjoyed working at Darcy’s salon, and she loved the smell of acrylic nails and fresh coffee she brewed for the customers.

  Star also worked with Jim in his landscaping business. After a short time, she found it easy to call him “dad.” He taught her how to weed by pulling at the roots. Sometimes, he would sit her on his lap and drive around on his riding mower. She might have been too old to sit in his lap, but Star liked having a “dad” and a father figure who gave her attention. Over time, he let her drive the riding mower by herself, but only now and then, and it was her favorite activity.

  When Star wasn’t helping her “dad” with his landscaping business, she worked at the salon, taking curlers out of customers’ hair and removing perm rods after a perm. In the evenings, she dusted the glass shelves and cleaned the brushes. When she had no chores left to do, she played in the back of the beauty salon. A small candle-making company rented the rear of the building, and they produced hand-carved, wood candle bases. This meant that wood was always piled behind the building, and the sweet scent of fresh cut wood always hung in the air.

  Star liked playing with the discarded pieces of wood, using the square, round and oval remnants to build things. She could get lost for hours building things and sometimes came into the salon with wood pieces and sawdust on her clothes.

  It wasn’t long before Darcy became a little stricter and pushier with Star. It began with Star dusting the glass shelves in the front of the salon. The shelves were a few inches taller than she was and shaped much like a square waffle, seven squares across, and seven squares tall. Each square had four glass walls much like a bookcase but with dividers in the middle. Star would spend an hour and a half every day cleaning the glass case from top to bottom. There were two other glass cases in the salon, half the size of the first, which held a variety of beauty products on display. Star w
ould spray each glass surface with cleaner, wipe it down, and then place all of the shampoos and other bottles back in their places.

  One day, Star had performed this chore in the same manner as she had always done it. When Darcy inspected her work, she was irritable and demanded,

  “Why aren’t the bottles facing out?”

  “What do you mean, mom?” Star asked. She looked at the bottles and frowned. All but two were perfectly aligned with the labels facing out as Darcy had taught her to do, and those two bottles were only slightly askew.

  “The labels, Star…they need to be facing out. They all need to be lined up just like this, and evenly spaced. It needs to be perfect.” Darcy demonstrated. She lined up the bottles up with precision accuracy, readjusting bottles that were already straight, and then said, “Take them all out and do it again.”

  Star began straightening the bottles as Darcy had done moments before. But Darcy grew more agitated and yelled,

  “I said, redo them, Star! Take them all out and put them back in again. We aren’t leaving here until you do!”

  Star cowered and took a step back, surprised by Darcy’s anger. She held back tears as she spent another hour rewashing every glass shelf and placing each bottle in its place with as much precision as she could manage.

  Small things like a few ever so slightly misaligned bottles escalated into larger issues, and before long, Star realized that Jim and Darcy were not only becoming rigid perfectionists, but they also were becoming emotionally demanding to the point of being abusive. Every chore had to be performed with absolute precision, and in less time than Star had ever done it before. When a chore wasn’t performed satisfactorily, their expectations become even higher the next time.

  New chores were added to Star’s daily routine. She assumed the job of washing, drying, ironing, and folding the clothes. On weekends, she had to dust every room of the house and every wood item in the house from knickknacks to the cabinets and furniture.

 

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