Black Rain, Page 3

  Three

  “My back hurts,” Pea complained. I groaned, agreeing with the backache. We had to get furniture.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned, trying to rollover on the hardwood floor. My back was broken into three pieces, I would probably never walk again.

  “This one’s for when we met, right, Mikki?” Pea asked, running her little fingers over my ink covered arm. Her finger rested on the ring with the huge diamond.

  I smiled at her and stroked her rats nest she called hair, “I picked you up; not knowing you had a ring-pop. It was wrapped around my hair so much I had to cut half of it out,” I told the story for the thousandth time and she laughed.

  “Put one on my arm too,” she requested, doing a complete backward tumble to grab the pen. I snatched her before she got too far and talked her out of it.

  “Later, gator. Let’s go eat.”

  Pea and I spent most of our day in furniture stores on this side of Boise. Our little country ranch was right at the delivery cutoff line, most of them wouldn’t go over forty miles. I had to beg the guy and pay and extra fifty bucks for fifteen more miles and same day delivery. Had Pea not had her heart set on it, I would have told him where to go. It was her bedroom suite; pink and white princess furniture. It even had the matching bookshelf and desk, like she had room for all of that. But she wanted it, and I wanted her to have it.

  Furniture was the only thing we bought. I didn’t want to move any more than I had to when I started cleaning. After a quick drive through lunch, and a stop for cleaning supplies, Pea and I started our cleaning process. For a spoiled little rich girl, Penelope was a lot of help. Washing walls was fun to her and a lot of help to me. She did an awesome job washing the walls from the floor to as far as her arms could reach. Huge help.

  Other than the apple color of the walls, I liked the small house. It reminded me of the house I grew up in before we had to move.

  “Hey, the policeman’s here,” Pea said from the big picture window. My heart dropped to my feet and I went to her, seeing the lights on top of the SUV. Great. The beating in my chest pounded like mad. I protectively moved her behind me out of instinct. Opening the door I audibly breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the name tag. Ranger Rick. For real. That’s what it said.

  “Ma’am, I’m the ranger for this part of the forest. My name’s Rick, just wanted to stop and welcome you to Clear Valley.”

  “Thank you very much. I’m Jenna Bradford and this is my daughter, Penelope.” My natural breathing stopped working while I waited for Pea to spill the beans.

  “Well, hello there, Penelope. What a pretty name.”

  “I was named after a bunny.”

  “She’s four,” I said with a shrug. Phew. She didn’t open her normal big mouth, the mouth that got me in trouble with her dad more times than I could count.

  “Are you the police?” Pea asked. I needed to change the subject before she spewed about her daddy being in jail.

  “He’s a ranger. That means he’s protecting the animals and the land.”

  Pea scratched her head, thinking about it, “Well, you can’t put animals in jail,” she decided. My heart did that stopping thing again.

  Squatting to her level, Ranger Rick smiled and explained his job title, “Sometimes we put them in jail, but it’s more like a quarantine. If they’re sick or in danger of hurting someone.”

  “What’s a quarter teen?”

  “Like a hospital for animals. Do you like to fish? There’s some of the nicest trout you’ll ever find in that lake,” Rick shared, standing and nodding toward the distant lake and wide opened spaces. Not a trace of hot black top to be found.

  Pea shielded her eyes from the sun when she looked up to him, “We don’t have a fishing pole.”

  “I’m sure we can find you a couple of those. I won’t keep you ma’am, just wanted to welcome you to Clear Valley. It’s pretty safe around here. Yellow jackets are bad this time of year, but they won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. If you’re not familiar with the types of snakes, I would stay away from the rock ledges.”

  “Yeah, we won’t be visiting any snakes. Thank you for stopping by,” I said, shaking his hand. I wasn’t ready to be friendly with the neighbors. Not yet. I needed more time to condition London into Penelope.

  Pea and I fell into a quick routine. Our little house was perfect, Clear Valley was big enough not to be noticed, yet small enough to feel the sense of community. We did buy a couple of fishing poles and spent countless hours soaking up the sun and trying to catch fish. We never succeeded. I may not have been a girly girl, but I sure as hell wasn’t touching a worm or a fish.

  The trails around the property were explored with great imagination. Pea had a new destination every time we set out to discover a new path. I loved her imagination. I never knew if I was going to be crossing the Amazon River or climbing Mount Rushmore. Either one was fine by me.

  Ranger Rick was right about the yellow jackets too. I got stung more times in that week than I had in my entire life. Pea felt the sting for the first time that week too. She didn’t like bees any more than I did. We hated them. We screamed, flailing arms, flapping fingers, and running for our lives when one came near us.

  The endless miles of land, nature and new adventures gave me nineteen days without one word about anything from Pea. She was quiet that afternoon, more so than normal. She barely touched her bacon sandwich and she didn’t want to watch the sun lay down behind the lake.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” I asked, brushing out her wet, tangled hair while she got ready for bed.

  “I don’t want be on vacation anymore.”

  Oh boy.

  “We’re not on vacation. We live here now.”

  “But not for real. I just want to go back to Larry and Veronica, again now, okay, Mikki?” she questioned, turning to look at me.

  “Honey, we can’t go back there. Daddy’s not there.”

  “My grandma is.” I missed Grace too. I would have loved to have called her for support.

  “Maybe we should get a couple bikes. There’s a bike trail, running along a small creek in town. We could get a camera and start a scrapbook. What do you think?” I bribed, doing the very thing I used to get mad at her dad for. I didn’t know how else to handle this.

  “Okay,” she agreed, crawling beneath the Frozen comforter. I couldn’t really tell if it was a sad okay, or a happy okay. Nonetheless, I escaped the conversation with a story until she was sound asleep.

  I sighed and kissed her head, wondering if I’d done the right thing. Should I have left her there? Was I playing a higher power that I had no right to play? Did I really think about her more than myself, or was it all about me? The thought of losing Pea iced my blood. I couldn’t lose her too. It would hurt just like it had with my mom. That’s how much a part of me she was.

  After running a tub full of strawberry bubbles, I stretched out as much as the small tub would let me. My eyes closed with a deep breath of steam; waiting for the tension to ease in my strained muscles, I thought about losing my mother and finding Pea in the same day.

  It’s hard to explain, but it’s almost like those first few hours after my mom died never happened. My eyes closed, my muscles relaxed, and my mind roamed to another time…

  ***

  I tried my best to hide my emotions with sarcasm. I needed this dude more than he needed me right now, I’d break down later, after I was away from Chicago. Not that I was worried about anyone looking for me. Chicago had a lot more complex things to worry about than chasing after some runaway with no family to give a shit. I guess I just wanted out, and whether this thing worked with Mr. Coast or not, I wouldn’t be residing in Chicago.

  “Holy shit! Oops. Sorry,” I exclaimed right before I slammed my hand across my mouth. Idiot. Mr. Coast didn’t say anything, but I was learning the disproving expression very quick. The right eyebrow went up and a left eye squinted toward the curled lip in the corner, “I said I was sorry. Geesh. Look at
this thing, this is crazy,” I claimed, running my fingers over tan leather. Now that’s what I call flying in class. Shit! Flying? I was about to go soaring through the sky higher than a bird for the first time.

  “What’s wrong?” Mr. Coast asked.

  “I’ve never flown before.”

  “You’re kidding? I thought everyone this day and age as flown at least once.”

  “Not me. I’ve never left this city.”

  “Ever?”

  The filter in my mouth failed to work the way it went in my mind. “No… Oh shit.”

  “Yeah, shit. So Florida, huh? Come on,” Mr. Coast said, leading me back the way I’d come on board. I couldn’t go back that way. That bridge had broken before I ever left the hospital. That bridge broke while I held my mother’s hands and cried, barely a few hours ago. It crumbled into tiny little pieces when the rise of her chest slowed until the very last one. I swallowed the tears and pleaded.

  “Okay, I lied about that. So what? You’re going there anyway, at least let me hitch a ride. Please?”

  “Why should I? You probably just robbed a bank or something. I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, and I don’t want any of you rubbing off on my daughter,” he yelled with an elevated voice. Mr. Coast’s eyes scanned my body distastefully. Fuck him. I didn’t need his condescending male ego ass. I needed a lift. That’s it.

  “Look, Mr. Coast.”

  “Stop calling me that. I’m not that old.”

  “I’m not a bad person, I swear. I’m just a girl down on her luck and I am begging you to at least give me a lift to New York,” I pled in a quiet, pleading for my life kind of tone. I could see him giving in with the relaxing expression.

  “No more lies. And you better not be in any trouble.”

  “I swear to God, I’m not.”

  Phew. That was close. I relaxed, too, and sat on the leather sofa. Wow! This was crazy.

  “You don’t look old enough to be a CEO of anything,” I questioned, looking out the square window.

  “The owner himself is pretty young. Forty?”

  “Yeah, that guy’s a freak. Who changes their name to the same as their business?”

  “Millionaires like Zazen. You know him?”

  “Not personally. He ruined the soup kitchen. I saw him on the news.”

  “He didn’t ruin anything. He rejuvenated an old building.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “What do you know anyway? Zazen is the smartest man I know. He took one old downtown building and turned it into a million dollar company before he was forty.”

  “How did you get to the top already?” I questioned, more for my benefit than his. I was probably crossing a few lines, but he answered, and he already had a good feel of how well the filtration system worked in my mouth. It didn’t.

  “I worked my ass off to get there, and I know the founder. That helps,” Blake replied, pouring us both wine. Another first. The only alcohol I had ever tasted was some nasty warm beer one night from my mom. I wasn’t what you would call sheltered, just busy. I was street smart, I knew what was going on, but that doesn’t mean I was around it. My mom kept us busy with activities and then with her illness. I never had the chance to be like most teenage girls.

  “So tell me more about London,” I coaxed, grasping the seat as the plane sped faster and faster down the runway. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

  “Why? I just told you I didn’t need you.”

  “Ahhh, is it supposed to make that noise?” I asked. I may be seeing my mother sooner than I anticipated.

  “Relax. We’re not going to crash.”

  “Promise?” I begged, staring at earth getting further and further away. Soon I wouldn’t be able to see the city. A sudden surge of guilt flooded my heart when I thought about leaving her. I was in a fancy plane and my mother was in a morgue. And the daughter of the year goes to moi.

  “Yes, I promise,” he laughed.

  I tried with everything in me not to think about my mother, tell myself it wasn’t her anymore. There was nothing left but her decaying body. She wasn’t in any pain and that wasn’t her anymore. My mother was an angel in a beautiful place where she was finally free. “You were telling me about London?” I persuaded.

  “No I wasn’t. I already fired you.”

  “No you didn’t. You know as sure as you’re flying through the air that you need me, probably more than I need you.”

  “I doubt that. New York City isn’t the place for pretty homeless girls. You won’t have to worry about being on the streets. Some predator will be using you for sick pleasure in no time. I bet you could make some classy pimp a lot of money.”

  “I can handle myself. It would be a cold day in hell before I ever sucked a dick for money. Shit. I mean, shoot. Sorry,” I repeated. Damnit, Mikki, get a grip.

  Blake snapped open a newspaper and glared at me over the straight edge. Come on, Mikki. Don’t blow this. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to finding a safe place to sleep in a strange city, housing eight million people.

  “London isn’t even three yet. There’s not much to tell.”

  “How many hours a week do you work?”

  “Eighty, ninety, it all depends. I need someone who can be there twenty-four seven. Seven days a week. I never know when or where I will be. My assistant does a pretty good job keeping me with somewhat of a two week schedule. You’ll have to work around me if you want a day or two off. I don’t work around you,” Blake assured me over his paper.

  Yes! I said pumping a fist in my mind. I knew he needed me more than I needed him.

  “I have nothing but time.” I smiled in victory. “How long you been working those hours?”

  “Since college.”

  “Which was?”

  “Six years ago.”

  “So what you’re telling me is; you don’t know what your kid likes because you’ve never really been around her, right?”

  “I don’t need advice on how to take care of my daughter. We need to set a few ground rules. If you make it through the next three days, I will draw up a contract.”

  “Whatever,” I shrugged. I was just stating the facts. The guy knew nothing about his daughter because he was never around her. How hard could it be? I could handle one kid.

  I panicked again when I felt the plane descending. I think the wine caused me to be a little woozy.

  “Look out the window.”

  “What?”

  “Look out the window. It always helped me when I used to be afraid of flying.”

  I turned my eyes to the clouds and stared wide-eyed out the window. Liar. That made it worse.

  I turned back to him, “How long until we land?”

  Blake pointed to the ceiling when we heard the ding of the pilot about to make an announcement.

  “Everything has been cleared for landing, clear sky’s ahead, Mr. Coast. Your flight will arrive on time in approximately twelve minutes. Have a good day, sir.”

  “Twelve minutes? How many miles is that? Should we be going down already?” I worried. Dick face laughed.

  “Relax. Didn’t I promise you we wouldn’t crash?”

  Note to self; never get in another plane for as long as you live.

  I think I was close to passing out from hyperventilating before we finally landed. That was the second worst twelve minutes of my life. The first was a few hours before.

  “What was that?” I said feeling something break below the plane.

  “It was the landing gear. The wheels need to come out in order to land. We’ll be on the ground before you know it. Did you go school in Chicago? You know, since you’re not really from Florida.”

  I knew Blake was trying to make me feel better and get my mind off crashing to my death, but I was still in panic mode. I wasn’t expecting to react that way. Then again, I never thought about being on a plane, either.

  “No, I mean yes. But not for a while now. I’ve done the online schooling since I was thirtee
n.” Hmmm. I hope he has a computer. I promised my mother I would finish high school and go to college.

  “Now see, those things are another bad idea. When I was a kid, you went to a brick and mortar school where you learned to be social. I think that’s half of what is wrong with this country. It’s always the same thing. The poor kid. I say make the kid accountable and send his ass to school. Nobody wants to get up and go to school, but it teaches us responsibility. Kids these days think somebody owes them.”

  I held my tongue and kept my biased opinion to myself. Ass-wipe, didn’t know shit. Homey be growing up, bathing in dollar bills. Don’t talk to me about responsibility, asshole. Holding my breath, I braced for the crash. The plane jumped once, then twice, then rolled smoothly to the far side of the airport. The jet-bridges passed quickly by and we stopped at the end of the runway. The pilot stopped on the side of the parking lot where we exited down the steps and in to an awaiting car. This guy was freaking loaded.

  Four

  I made myself hot tea and walked out back to the open deck. Clear Valley sure was pretty, especially at night. Stars sparkled and twinkled in the sky, bright stars, millions of them. Not like the patches of them here and there you saw in the city. This was magical. I inhaled the magic through my nose and hoped for the best. This was right. I knew it was. I’d gone over it in my mind a million times. I did the right thing.

  I leaned against the post and angled my arm toward the light and drew one long line straight down the center of my arm while my mind once again flowed.

  ***

  Once we were in the car being driven through New York City, Blake ignored me. He was too busy with some guy he called Ryan and a full blown conversation about a model lineup. I half listened to him approving or disapproving to the models that would work the runway on opening day.

  I was never in a Zazen Luxury Resort, but I heard the name a lot on MTV and the entertainment channel. I knew it was some fancy hotel chain that catered to the rich and famous. Blake was planning some big grand opening when he got called back to New York to take care of his daughter dilemma.