FLEE

by Miranda Kavi

  She had a San Antonio newspaper website pulled up. Under the headline, “Breaking news: Bizarre story coming out of San Marcos,” was a quick blurb: “We’ve received several eyewitness reports that a three year old child, who fell off a bluff into the Guadalupe river, was rescued by a ‘flying’ woman. The event happened at a law school gathering, where hundreds of students are claiming they saw a women fly. In another strange twist, unconfirmed accounts also claim Gavyn Dhaval, a well-regarded British actor, was present at the party. Police are investigating the incident.”

  I handed it back to her. “Now what?”

  “Now we have to hope it doesn’t get picked up nationally. But, the fact Gavyn’s name is attached to it pretty much guarantees it will.” She gave me a pointed look. “I need you to prepare yourself. It could get rough.”

  We made it to our house in twenty minutes. The small white house with green trim and weirdly long driveway was familiar and safe.

  She pulled far up into her driveway, but didn’t park in her small, detached garage like she usually did.

  My sister, Erica, was waiting inside. She pulled me into a rough hug. “You stupid cow, I miss you!” she said into my ear. When she stepped away, she threw her glance from me to our mother. Erica’s eyes were wet, brown hair disheveled, and she looked tired.

  My mom gestured her heads towards the dark T.V. “Why is that off?”

  Erica shook her head. “It hit CNN – I just saw it on the ticker. You’ve got two messages on your phone from news stations. You guys need to go.”

  “Go?” I repeated.

  “Here.” Erica dragged a suitcase off the couch and leaned it against my leg. “I went through all my clothes and packed you some stuff that’s too big for me. I think it’ll fit. I put a toothbrush in there too.”

  She unzipped the small front pocket. She placed a chunky old fashioned cell phone in my hand. “This is a pay as you go cell phone. I bought two, and I have the other one. I programmed my number in it. I think its best we communicate this way.”

  “Good thinking,” Mom said. “My suitcase is in the trunk. We should go.”

  “Okay.” Erica hugged her. “I can’t stay at the house because it’ll throw the boys out of their school routine, but I’ll check in on the house every couple of days.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. We’ll be okay.” My mom turned to me. “You ready?”

  “Wait.” I took a few steps back. “What are we doing?”

  My mother answered. “We need to go into hiding.”

  “Where are we going? Don’t you need to work?”

  She slung her purse over her shoulder. “I took emergency leave, and I have access to a cabin in the Ozarks. It’s empty for the next few months.”

  “I should probably text Bree and let her know I’m okay.” I dug through my purse until I found my cell phone. “I have thirty-three missed calls from Gavyn.” The tears pricked behind my eyes again.

  “You can’t call him, or Bree, or anyone else. Throw away your cell phone, forget law school, and forget the boy. This is life or death.”

  She snatched her keys off the table and went outside. I followed her on weak, shaky legs. Tears spilled out my eyes and made the world blurry and strange.

  I curled myself up in a ball in the passenger seat. She said little, other than to force me to drink a bottle of water every now and again.

  A few hours passed where my mom gripped the steering wheel a little too hard and checked her rearview mirror constantly. Finally, she stopped at an isolated gas station in the middle of nowhere. I was staring at my cell phone in my hands. I had so many missed calls and texts it was displaying an error message that my memory was full.

  She put her hand on my leg. “I’m sorry this has happened, but you can’t call them back. I can’t let you put yourself in any danger.” She patted my knee. “Make a clean break. Get rid of it.”

  She shot me a look that was a mixture of resolve and pity before she stepped out of the car to re-fill the gas tank. I got out too and threw my little bright blue phone in the trash. It was my last connection to Gavyn, and it started a fresh round of tears.

  We made the eight hour drive in one night, arriving at the lake cabin in the wee hours of the morning. It was a small two-bedroom on the shore of a beautiful lake. A small dock jutted out the back into the moonlit water. On any other occasion, I would have been thrilled with the location.

  It was fully furnished, with a two couches and a flat screen T.V. in the living room, an open kitchen, and bedrooms on either side of the living room, both furnished with queen size beds. The décor was dated, but it was neat and well kept.

  I sat on the back porch for three hours, leaning against the railing, sipping a glass of water.

  I watched the sun rise for the first time in a long time. Boats flitted across the surface of the lake in the distance. Bird circled and swooped in a magnificent rush to catch their watery prey.

  She came outside when the morning changed from dawn to light. She sat beside me on the porch, scooted closer, and slung an arm over her shoulder. “You okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You need to eat, or go to bed. Preferably both. You can’t sit out here forever,” she said.

  “I’ll sleep then.” I squeezed her hand before I went inside.

  After twenty-four straight hours of being awake, merciful sleep rendered me unconscious in short order.

  Chapter 10

  I dreamt of Gavyn.

  I dreamed we were back in San Antonio. He gave me a bracelet, and told me he loved me. I was floating away from him. I tried to sink back down to him, but I just kept floating away, higher and higher until I could no longer see him.

  I woke up covered in sweat. I shot up to a seated position as the events of the previous day and night rolled into my head. There was a soft murmur of voices from a T.V. set, the smell of coffee, and a clank of dishes.

  I showered and finally changed out of my now stinky clothes. I dug through the suitcase packed with my sister’s clothes. Luckily, we were about the same size. I found a pair of running shorts and a soft cotton t-shirt to wear.

  Mom stood from the couch as I came in. “Morning.” She wrapped me in her arms and gave me a super-long mom hug. She put one hand on her shoulder and used the other one to tip my chin up so she could see my face. “You okay, kiddo? How are you feeling?”

  “Yes, I think so.” I pulled out of her reach so I could look around. “What time is it?”

  “3:00 in the afternoon. I picked up some groceries. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I said.

  “You’re eating anyways,” she said.

  I sat down on the couch in front of the T.V. while she bustled around in the kitchen. “So, how bad is it?”

  “Not good, but not as bad as I thought. It’s been picked up on all the major networks. They’ve tracked down your life, your law school, and me. I don’t think the family of the kid has a lot of credibility, especially since Gavyn’s rep is refusing to comment. The cops have said they think some drug use was going on. Erica said there are a few news vans camped outside the house.”

  She sat next to me and put the sandwich and a diet soda on the table in front of me. “Eat, drink.” She gestured toward the T.V. “Most of the new stations are painting this as a human interest story. I don’t think the claim you can fly is being taken seriously, but my home phone must be ringing off the hook. I had eighty nine voicemails when I called in this morning. I called the phone company and had the number disconnected. I’ll wait a few weeks to see if I need to move. If we stay in hiding, I think this may blow over.”

  “Whoa, whoa.” I put down my sandwich. “If anyone needs to move, it’s me. When this settles down, you go home.”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” she said, “but, over the next couple of days you’ll need to call the law school to let them know you will be withdrawing. You can’t go back there.”

  “Fine. I was goi
ng to drop out anyways.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  I fingered the bracelet Gavyn had given me. “Gavyn asked me to be with him. I was going to withdraw from law school. I was going to go with him everywhere: L.A., London, on location when he shot movies, press tours, the whole nine yards. I was going to see the world. That’s what we had planned. Now, it’s all gone.” This time I didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears. I dissolved into a mess of sobs. My paper plate flipped over and spilled my sandwich onto the floor, but I didn’t care. I cried, and it was loud and it felt kind of good.

  She pulled me across the couch so I was lying on her lap. “Let it out. It’s okay.” She stroked my hair and check. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t realize you’d gotten so serious.”

  I cried until I was all dried up. It was dark when we stood to go outside and watch the sun set. We sat on the end of the dock, drinking cool beer and slicing the surface of the smooth water with our feet.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not fair to you. I know. You have no idea how he feels about your ability?”

  “The look in his eyes when he saw me was…” I swallowed the icky bump in my throat. “It was pretty clear he was afraid.”

  “But he chased you. Why would he chase you if was afraid?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t have time to stick around and chat.” I paused to take another swig of beer. “This can’t be good for him either, all this press.”

  We finished our beers, ate dinner, and then crashed. I hadn’t physically exerted myself all day, but I felt a deep, dead tired in my mind and body. I had a dreamless night.

  I woke up the next morning to the insistent purr of boats buzzing across the lake. I resisted the urge stay in bed and mope. I needed to wake up and function, or at least pretend to function.

  My mom was standing in front of the living room television with a mug in her hand. She was as still as ice.

  I focused my attention on the television. It was a sensationalist national news network. It showed people camped outside my mom’s home carrying signs and chanting I was the devil. They were from some weird backwoods church. The photographers duly interviewed these people. Their deep wrinkled, gap toothed faces spoke into the camera.

  “She doesn’t go to church, but she can fly. She is not of the angels, she is of the devil!” a hateful woman shouted at camera. “We must rid the world of her evil. She must come forward and accept her punishment!”

  “What a bunch of idiots! Why the hell is this on the national news?” I said.

  “No one takes them seriously. I don’t understand why there are covering this either. This is what I’m afraid of though. Those crazy hillbillies probably have guns and if we were there, they might try to hurt you. Not that they would get very far.”

  The newscaster returned to the story about me and reported several death threats for me had been called into local news stations in Wichita. That one caused the color to drain out of my mother’s face.

  I accepted the news calmly. I had lived in fear of being exposed for the past ten years. Now all I would have to do is face the consequences.

  “I think it’s time you learn to shoot a gun,” she said. “I can protect you now, but you need to be able to take care of yourself in the future.” She snapped up the remote and turned of the T.V. “Enough garbage. Get dressed. Let’s check out the hiking trail around the lake.” Her mouth was set in a firm line. She had bright red spots on her cheeks. I felt sorry for anyone who messed with her today.

  We spent the rest of the day exploring the lake, avoiding people, and trying to keep our minds off the brewing media storm.

  When I went to bed later on that night, I stared at the ceiling for hours. I didn’t feel anything at all; no fear, no pain, nothing. It was abnormal, but better than pain.

  The news stations were still talking about me the next day.

  The hateful protestors were still there, albeit in much smaller numbers. A much larger group of people had shown up, fighting against the actions of the hateful. They were camping out, keeping the crazies off of my mom’s property, and telling them to leave. They interviewed one of the new group members.

  “This is ridiculous. She probably can’t fly, and even if she can, who cares? This family has lived here for ten years. They’re good people. We won’t let these hate mongers run them out of town. She saved a life. Why are people making such a big deal out of this?”

  I was relieved someone was standing up for me and my mom when we couldn’t do it ourselves. It restored my faith in humanity. Well, somewhat restored my faith in humanity.

  “Thank God,” my mom said. “I was starting to think the whole world was completely mad. Maybe this will die down.” She took a long drink of her third cup of coffee and set it down on the table. “Let’s go canoeing,” she suggested brightly.

  “Sure, Mom.” And we did. We stayed away from the T.V. and phone.

  We returned to the cabin several hours later. She cooked some steaks on the compact charcoal grill outside. We ate in front of the television. I mentally braced myself for any more Aurora related coverage.

  A pretty brunette appeared on the screen of a national news network. “And now returning to the story grabbing national headlines. Spectators claimed a woman, Aurora Lockette, saved their child by flying to catch her when the cliff the child was standing on gave way. Additional reports surfaced Lockette was with Gavyn Dhaval at the time, a notable Hollywood figure. It seems that at least this part of the bizarre story is true. Today, for the very first time since these events unfolded, Gavyn Dhaval released a written statement as follows:

  “I’d like to clear up some misconceptions about events that recently transpired. Earlier this week, I was with Aurora Lockette. She was brave and alert enough to lunge after a little girl who was falling off a cliff, saving her life. Aurora caught the girl before she went over the edge and pulled her back up. I can only imagine the trauma this family experienced at almost watching their child die. However, I can no longer remain silent while they continue to make ridiculous assertions that Ms. Lockette flew. These are absurd and hurtful, as they have caused unwanted attention and hate to be directed to Ms. Lockette. I would ask the media respect Ms. Lockette’s privacy. It is unfortunate a heroic but very human act has been turned into a hate-filled media circus.”

  “Wow,” my mom said.

  I’m sure his agent and rep were cringing he would have to publicly comment on such a ridiculous situation. Pain broke through my numbness and threatened to crash over me.

  I excused myself and hid behind closed doors of my bedroom. In the darkness, I thought about everything I had lost.

  I slept in late the next morning. When I woke up, my mom was stretched out in the couch in the living room. “Morning,” she said as I trotted in with a cup of coffee. “I think we can go back in a couple of days. The news broke this morning the family retracted their statements and apologized. They ‘admitted’ they were looking for some publicity. All your classmates are still refusing interviews. That was early this morning and there hasn’t been a single story again,” she said. “I don’t know what prompted them to do this, but I’m sure glad they did. This family and Gavyn are covering for you now. Maybe it’ll be enough to get everyone else to back off too.”

  Sure enough, four days later we were loading up the car to return to Kansas. Erica reported there were no visitors to my mom’s home in several days. The story completely dropped out of the media. My mom had her phone service restored under a new number. There wasn’t a single errant message.

  I had time to think about what the future might hold for me as we drove back. I had withdrawn from law school, knowing my situation would be ingrained on my classmates’ minds forever.

  When we pulled into the driveway, I hadn’t come up with a plan and I was exhausted. I went straight to my old bedroom. My sister’s boyfriend had kindly driven to San Antonio and vacated my apartment. Boxes of my stuff were stacked in
neat rows, filling half of the room. My furniture was in storage in my sister’s basement. I was grateful to have most of my stuff back. I still had a stash in the cabin I’d shared with Gavyn, but that was gone forever.

  “Aurora!” My mom’s voice floated through my half open door. “You have a piece of mail.” I walked into the dining room, where she had left the large ivory envelope with a red flap on the table. My name and my mom’s address were written in calligraphy. I picked it up and flipped over the envelope a couple times, feeling the heavy weight of the fancy paper. There was no return address. It was postmarked from Fairbanks, Alaska.

  “Quit playing with it and open it,” she called from the kitchen.

  And so I did. I read the note twice, struggling to understand the words neatly handwritten on the plain ivory paper inside.

  Aurora,

  We have been watching your family bloodline for several generations. Somehow we missed you. For that, I am sorry. We were able to gain control over the situation with the media this time. However, you are still in grave danger.

  There are others like you. You are not alone.

  We will be making contact with you shortly.

  Chapter 11

  I must have dropped the letter, because it was gracefully spiraling toward the floor.

  My mom paused her sweeping. “Are you okay? Is it something bad?”

  I didn’t answer. Was it a joke? An unknown relative?

  She stooped down to pick it up, reading as she stood. “Is this real?” She tossed the letter on the table, strode over to the door and locked the deadbolt. She methodically went through every window in the house, checking to make sure they were latched. I heard the click of her gun safe from the bedroom.

  “Mom! Just chill. It’s not a threatening letter. And it was sent from Alaska, not here.”

  “I know, but it’s a little strange, and it’s been an eventful week. I’m just taking some precautions.” She came back into the dining room. We both sat on the table with the letter between us. We stared at it, as if it would reveal its secrets.