CHAPTER TWO
Leaving the comfort and safety of Fran's place was not easy for Martie. Not only was she about to venture into the unknown, but she was doing it completely alone. She didn’t relish the idea of travelling into the unknown with no one to lean on. She was afraid of not finding the answers she needed to track down her mother. But even more - she was afraid she might find answers that she didn’t want.
Both Fran and Martie had tears in their eyes as they hugged good-bye. In a last ditch effort to keep Martie from going Fran suggested they defy Maggie’s orders and call the police. Martie told her she thought it was too late for that. How would they possibly explain to the authorities why they took so long to call them? She again promised to keep in touch on a daily basis.
Martie needed supplies and her curiosity was overwhelming her, so at the end of Fran's street she glanced in the rear-view mirror to check that Fran was no longer in the yard. When she confirmed the coast was clear, she turned left toward her house instead of the right she would have taken. She was there in less than five minutes. Instead of pulling into the driveway she parked across the street a few houses down.
The house itself looked completely normal from the outside. You wouldn't have guessed that the small modern rancher was now unoccupied. Her mother’s car was parked in front and the grass and flowers were all in a state of good health. Martie scanned the cars parked on the street in front. They all appeared to be empty leaving her to conclude that no one was watching the place. She sat quietly for a while deciding what to do. Mustering up even more courage than she knew she had, she decided she needed to see the inside of the house for herself.
She started the car and drove around to the back alley to park beside the tall brown fence that framed the back yard. She opened the back gate as quietly as possible and then attempted to make herself blend into the fence, her back flat against it.
She stood like a statue, afraid to even blink. A long time passed, with her heart beating so loud she figured if anyone was inside, they would look out the window to find the source of the booming noise. Seeing no movement in the house, she took a breath and made a dash for the back door. She put her key in the knob and turned it slowly. A tiny click from the lock engaging caused her to freeze. She held her breath while her overactive imagination panicked her with various scenarios.
She waited with her chest expanded full of air. It was hard not to let it go.
She listened. She heard nothing.
She waited longer. She could hear and see no movement of any kind.
She exhaled quietly, slowly, and entered, moving around the house soundlessly. Bryce had been right. The place had been rummaged through. Nothing was broken, but drawers and cupboards were pulled open with their contents haphazardly returned and left dripping out of them. She quietly raced through the house taking a quick inventory. The only obvious missing items were her mother’s computer and Martie’s laptop. All jewelry and other valuables remained untouched. Her mother's desk drawers had also been completely emptied. This led her to believe someone was looking for information. Documents? Something else? What could her mom possibly have that was that important?
Still nervous that someone might show up, Martie quickly grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began stuffing it with clothes and toiletries. She also grabbed her cell phone charger and the small box that contained the identification she didn't carry with her on a daily basis: birth certificate, passport, health card, etcetera. She had no idea what she might need, or when she might be able to return to the house, so she decided to take it all.
Twenty minutes later Martie was speeding west, out of Regina city limits with a Coke in her cup holder and some take-out fries in her lap. The adrenaline was charging through her. Whatever was going on, she was determined to find answers. Her mother was her only family, and she would do whatever she had to do to find her.
It was a typical hot prairie summer day, with the temperature blazing somewhere in the mid to high thirties. Unfortunately Martie’s car didn’t have air conditioning, but it did have what she referred to as a wicked stereo. She made sure the windows were down all the way so she could feel the warm wind slapping her hot cheeks. She cranked the volume on her music so the deafening lyrics of her favorite songs would drown out the anxiety of her thoughts.
The glowing sun was bright and shifting west as she neared the Saskatchewan Alberta border. The adrenaline from earlier had waned, leaving her eyes feeling heavy and a dull buzz droning in her brain.
As she plugged along the never ending highway toward the never attainable horizon, her mind started to wander in a direction that she’d been desperately avoiding. What if she wasn’t able to find her mother? Or worse, what if she was dead? What would she do without her mom? Where would she go? She wasn’t even an adult yet. Her eyes filled. She was becoming flooded with uncertainty. She realized she had no idea what she was doing - maybe looking for her mother was a bad idea. Her mind strayed into further doubt and fear. What if her mother was mixed up with some really bad people? What could Martie possibly do? She was just a kid - a terrified insecure kid.
An overflow of tears flooded down her face. She knew she had to pull herself together or pull over to the side of the road. She sniffed and shifted slightly to glance into the rear-view mirror. As she wiped an eye with the back of her hand she noticed a police car behind her with its lights flashing. Crap!
Her eyes darted to the speedometer to find that she was going twenty kilometers over the limit. Double crap!
Martie pulled over to the shoulder and hastily wiped at her cheeks and eyes. She peeked in the side mirror. She watched as a police officer climbed out of his car and sauntered his way to her door, scrutinizing her car as he came.
“Good evening Miss.”
She smiled. “Hi.”
“License and registration please.”
She took a moment to pull her driver’s license from her purse and then dug the registration from the glove box. She handed it to him.
He looked it over and then stared back at her. She guessed he was a little younger than her mother, and though he was smiling in a friendly way, she couldn’t help but feel intimidated.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry Miss Johnson?” he asked.
“Calgary.”
“And what’s in Calgary?”
She paled slightly as dread built inside her, wondering what to tell him. Not wanting to appear suspicious, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head: “I’m meeting my mom there. She’s at my uncle’s place.”
He eyed her suspiciously, his curious face sweeping the interior of the car.
“Mm-hmm,” he said with pursed lips. “Mind if I have a look through your vehicle?” It sounded to her like a trick question, and caused her to sit up straighter.
She wondered if he could do that. Was it was legal? She wasn’t sure, so she swallowed and said, “Sure,” with an uneasy grin.
Her mind sprinted to the duffel bag full of money in the trunk. She concentrated, hoping to will him to not ask her to open the trunk. She repeated a mantra over and over again in her head - you do not want to look in the trunk - you do not want to look in the trunk…
“Pop the trunk for me please.”
No! How was she going to explain having all that cash? Her face flushed and her heart began to thump like wild drums, but she obliged, and then held her breath waiting for the inevitable.
The policeman made his way slowly to the rear of the car, peering into the back seat on his way. A thick bead of sweat dropped off Martie’s nose and landed on her bare thigh. She could come up with no plausible explanation as to why a seventeen year old girl would have thousands of dollars in cash stuffed in a bag in her trunk.
Her now dry eyes began to threaten tears again. She tilted her chin up to prevent a torrential downpour.
She jumped when the trunk suddenly slammed shut, and a gasp-like whimper escaped from her. She threw her eyes back to the side mirror. He wasn’t
carrying the bag. He must not have looked inside it. Martie made a quick mental note - take money from duffel bag and hide it in suitcase.
He was back at her window. "I don't understand Miss," he said, a knot in his brow. "How could a mother allow her teenage daughter to travel that distance all alone?"
She looked up at him, and his expression softened when he saw her anguished face.
"It’s a family emergency," she explained. It wasn’t a lie, which was good. She didn’t know if she could live with herself knowing she’d lied to a cop. “I’m meeting her there.”
He seemed to accept this and returned her identification. "Well, you'll get there a lot safer if you slow down, okay?"
"Yes sir. Thank you."
She watched as he returned to his car, shut the flashing lights off and pulled away. Now that she was alone, she lost all composure.
A river of fresh salty tears rushed down her face, splashing warm droplets onto her legs. She was unable to breathe properly, sobbing in short hiccupping inhales only. Reality had finally and truly hit. Her mom had disappeared without a word or a clue. Everything about the disappearance was engulfed in secrecy and Martie felt angry and betrayed that her mother didn't trust her enough to share her secrets with her. Had she opened up, Martie felt she would be better prepared for whatever it was that was now happening.
Yes, she was mad. But when it came right down to it, she was more scared than anything else - really, really scared. She felt like a lost tot and all she wanted was her mommy.
The sun was glowing orange on the western horizon as Martie entered Medicine Hat. Her plan had been to make it to Calgary that night, but her eyes were dry and sore, and she felt burned out. She could go no further that night.
The comfort and security of a number of big chain hotels beckoned to her, but she was afraid to even attempt to get a room at one of them. Although she was only a year away from being officially considered an adult, she had the sinking feeling that she would be denied a key to any of their rooms. She had only been to Medicine Hat once before when she was younger, so she didn’t know her way around. It took half an hour to find a small out-of-the-way motel appropriately named ‘The Last Resort’.
After stuffing some bills from the duffel bag into her purse, she entered the lobby and looked around. The décor was obviously from before her time - before her mom’s time even - with a pukey green and yellow carpet dotted with decades of stains. There was an old couch in one corner, and a black and white TV snowily droned on beside it. The old musty smell in the air reminded her of a friend’s basement that they used to pretend was haunted.
She took a gulp of stale air and stalked past the out-of-order pop and cigarette machines toward a rough looking old guy behind the desk. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.
“How much for a room for the night?” she asked as pleasantly as possible.
He snorted with a half grin. “Fifty bucks and some ID showing me you’re eighteen.”
A lot of people had told Martie that she looked old for her age, but the recent crying and her messy hair must have decreased her look by a year or two. But she needed a room, and she had money. She wasn’t too naïve to realize that money could have a magical power, especially against a person like the one seated behind the desk.
She propped both elbows on the desk and looked him right in the eye. “How about a hundred and fifty for the night with no questions asked?”
He met her glare. “Yeah?” he said with a challenge in his eye. He was obviously enjoying bartering with a pretty young girl.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill and one fifty. She waved it in front of his face, and with a smirk of her own, said, “Yeah.”
His eyes grew big as he snatched the cash from her hand. He reached under the desk and pulled out a key. “Room 15,” he said. “But there better be no trouble and you’re out by ten in the morning.”
She took the key from his big hairy hand, turned abruptly away, and proceeded to walk to the door with her head held high. A little victory bubble formed inside as Martie thought, I like having money…
The room was a small version of the lobby. It smelled bad and it was ugly. But Martie didn’t care. It was better than sleeping in the car.
After eating the sandwiches that Fran had packed, and rearranging the contents of her suitcase to hide the money behind a panel in the bottom, she gave Fran a quick call to let her know she was all right.
A quick shower washed away some of the stresses of the day and she settled into the sagging bed. The blanket must have been manufactured in 1920, but the sheets were fairly new and they felt crisp. Exhausted, it didn’t take long for her to slip into a deep sleep.
She dreamed of the boy again.
They were sitting at the top of a cliff beside a small shrub, with their feet dangling over the edge. It was a sheer fifty foot plus drop to the ground below, but they were not afraid. They were holding hands and contentedly watching the world in the distance.
Not far beyond the rocks and growth at the bottom of the cliff, a sparkling stream twinkled in the fluorescent orange sunlight. Far in the distance was a beautiful city. It was a city like neither of them had ever seen before, with tall reflective glass buildings, and low structures in shades of muted blues and greys. The roof of every building was covered in what looked to be solar panels, and throughout the entire city were tall poles with windmill like propellers on the tops. They looked like they too might be an energy source. There was no traffic, and no billboards, and no neon signs. In fact there were no signs at all. Tiny dots of people meandered here and there at a leisurely pace. On one side of the city a large garden area sat, filled with grass, trees, flowers and ponds. The perfection and beauty of it were so breathtaking that Martie could almost smell the scent of the multi-faceted vegetation being carried to her on the breeze. She couldn’t help but think that if Heaven existed, it would look exactly like that.
She turned to look at the boy, and as with every dream she’d ever had of him, they did not speak. They communicated by thought alone. His smile was warm and his eyes were filled with joy. She knew that he was saying, “It’s beautiful.”
She smiled back and leaned in closer so her head could rest on his shoulder. “It feels like home,” she told him silently. He put his arm around her and propped his head on hers. They had not a care in the world and felt nothing but peace and calm and happiness.
Suddenly a man appeared behind them, telling them they had to leave. He told them they didn’t belong there. They must leave and never come back.
Martie and the boy stood, still hand in hand, to confront him - to tell him that they were happy here and they didn’t want to go.
The man was obviously a person of authority. They could see it in his face and in his posture. He was a rule enforcer and was not used to being defied. The boy stepped forward to introduce himself and to shake his hand, but the man shouted at him.
Martie was horrified by what happened next. She had no way of seeing it coming. She was expecting to have the chance to plead their case, to tell him that they were so happy here, that they belonged here, but this horrible man quickly raised his hand and in one swift motion pushed the boy backward.
The boy was falling off the cliff in slow motion; his arms flailing horridly, his face contorted in shock and fear. His eyes were reaching for her, pleading…
And for the first time ever she heard his voice: “Nooooooooooo!”
She woke up panting hard with her nightshirt drenched in sweat.
Sketch of Secrets (The Garnet Trilogy - Book 1) Page 2
