Before long, Abby saw a single shack at the end of a long, lonely dirt driveway. She crouched down to watch this forlorn homestead. Five or ten minutes went by with no sign of movement. Seeing no cars near it and no garage for cars to hide in, she decided to make her move. She’d gone only a few steps when a brown lump near the house stirred and stood up. Abby ducked back down and retreated into the forest as the dog raised its head, sniffed, and began to bark. It was a huge pit bull, chained to a post. It sniffed some more and upped its barking to a ferocious, warning level. A moment later the door opened and a woman came out in sweatpants and a bra. She looked around suspiciously, saw nothing, and turned on the garden hose. She squirted the dog and yelled at it until it slunk down in angry resignation.
When the dog finally settled back down, Abby continued walking, going a little farther from the pasture. The forest here was not nearly as dense as it had been earlier. If it got any thinner she feared she would have to hide out until dark.
Up a small hill, the forest thickened up again. From here Abby could look down at pastures and see a bit of the highway in the distance. The panic that had been mounting as the forest had been turning sparser and sparser subsided a little. For now, she was safe.
Up ahead a little she saw what looked like a mini-housing development from the 1980’s. Five raised ranches plunked down in the middle of nowhere in a fanned out semi-circle. All five had fences indicating they probably had pools. They looked a little rundown, like the start of something that never took off. One had a camper parked beside it. Another had a saggy trampoline. All looked deserted. She steered clear of these houses and kept going.
When she started going down the hill, she passed a gully that was filled with a big heap of garbage. An actual garbage dump. Judging from the stuff piled there, no one had used it for years. There were old cars, old refrigerators, old broken dishes. As soon as she passed it, she found herself on a rutty dirt road. Walking on a road, even a deserted dirt road, felt like a bad idea, so she stepped off it and wandered back into the woods a little. She sat down and listened, suddenly uneasy.
Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she took a quick look inside her plastic bag to reassure herself that everything was still okay.
She examined all of Barabara’s information, working for a few minutes on memorizing everything about her. She wanted to take off her shoes and feel cool air on her feet, but she was afraid if she took them off she’d never want to put them back on, so instead she loosened the laces a bit.
She remembered hearing once that the waitresses who got the biggest tips weren’t the cheerful ones but the ones who seemed like they were really stressed out and barely holding it together. So that was her plan. At least at first, anyhow. Once she got out of danger and was truly on her way, heading up north to mountains and fall leaves and lighthouses, she was going to be a disgruntled waitress. She’d be the one who made each and every table she served feel like she was hanging by a thread, but hanging on just for them. Like, Here’s your omelet, and then set it down with a really stressed out smile.
She’d go by Barbie. People would like that. It would make them think of Barbie dolls. When people asked why her name was spelled Barabara instead of Barbara, she’d tell them she come from a poor, uneducated family “Down South” and that her mom and dad didn’t know how to spell, and neither did anyone at the hospital. They’d feel sorry for her. Maybe she’d be the recipient of one of those huge tips that made the news.
She scratched at a few of her many bug bites. “Okay, don’t let it go that far,” she told herself.
She returned Barabara’s information to the bag, forcing herself back to the present. Exhaustion and dehydration were making it hard to think. Charlie and Rake and Meggie had probably looked for her all night and all morning. At some point they’d likely watched the news. Had they assumed she’d flagged down some motorist? Were they still looking for her, or were they on the run themselves, far away from here, afraid she’d gone straight to the cops?
The last scenario seemed the most likely to her. They’d assume that everything they’d done had erased all her original schemes. And since they knew nothing about her money and new identity, since Charlie thought she was relying entirely on him, they wouldn’t think she’d be capable of surviving without his help.
Settling on this, Abby made herself comfortable, sitting with her back to a tree, and dozed for the remainder of the afternoon and early evening. When the sun went down she started walking again. The little road branched off to a bigger road, but she continued walking alongside a fence.
As night moved in, the heat did not subside. A swarm of mosquitos hovered along with her, unrelenting. She swatted at them, but it was futile. Eventually she gave up, too tired to fight them off any longer. The night was velvety dark, the humidity diffusing the little bit of moon and starlight, and she couldn’t move as quickly as she had the night before, since it was a struggle to see where she was going. Throughout her trek she kept thinking, jealously, about that dog getting sprayed with the garden hose. She’d give anything for a drink of that cold water.
The highway was gone now. She couldn’t hear it, couldn’t see it. She had no idea if it was half a mile away or ten miles away.
Deep into the night, she crossed a small road and saw a little house where the road curved. The house had a wide front porch and a big dormer double window on the second floor. There was no garage, no swing sets or kids’ toys, no evidence of a dog. Two non-junky cars were parked in the driveway. One was a Jetta. The other was a new Hyundai. Nothing amazing, but proof of two adults with jobs. The house was surrounded by trees and nothing else.
This was it. This was the house she’d been waiting for.
Chapter 47
Early the next morning she watched them leave. He wore khaki pants and a polo shirt. She wore a little skirt and blouse, and heels. She even looked like she was close to Abby’s size. They went outside at the same time. He locked the door. They kissed goodbye and pulled out of the driveway in separate directions. Except for him locking the door, which Abby had expected to happen, it was almost too good to be true.
She waited a few minutes to be sure neither had forgotten something and needed to come back for it. She then emerged from the woods and darted across the road. Her heart was booming, more in excitement than fear.
She went straight around to the back of the house and checked the back door. It was locked. She then noticed a garden hose coiled in the grass. She cranked the spigot and forced herself to let it run until it got cold. To be extra careful, she sprayed the water off toward the flowerbed behind her so a puddle wouldn’t form. When the water got cold she took a long, long drink, then sprayed a little on her face, then took another drink. It was heaven.
When she could drink no more, she cranked the water off and got down to the business of breaking in. What appeared to be a brand new central air conditioner was humming away on a cement platform by the backdoor. The windows were closed to keep out the hot air. Some of the blinds had been left open and Abby could see that the house was neat and deserted. No dog came bounding up to the window to bark its head off at her.
She peeked under the welcome mat, beneath large stones, in the lights by the doors, looking for a key. Nothing. She went around to the front of the house, stood back by the road, and looked up at the second floor dormer above the porch roof. One window was open a fraction of an inch. There was no screen in it either. Abby guessed these people had recently had central air installed, and not long ago a window unit had been in this room.
She hesitated. This may have been the easiest entrance point, but it was also on the front of the house. So far no one had driven past, but it was only a matter of time before someone came around the corner. She went back behind the house and got another drink of water. If she broke in through one of the back windows no one would see or hear her. It was very tempting. But she hadn’t wanted to leave a trace.
She tucked her money bundle behind the hose reel, between two shrubs, and went back around to the front of the house. She climbed up onto the porch railing, holding onto the thick corner post for support. From here, she was able to easily see onto the roof. Still hearing no approaching traffic, she put both hands on the roof, leaned onto it, lifted one of her feet up to the metal flag bracket affixed to the post, tested it with a shove of her foot, and when it felt solid, boosted herself up onto the roof. Clinging on like Spiderman, the window a few feet in front of her, she crawled on her belly to it.
When she reached it she steadied herself, kneeling on the roof, and dug her fingertips beneath the frame. At first the window wouldn’t budge. She looked out at the yard and road, catching her breath, trying to remain calm. She gave it another try and it lurched up. One more shove and she was able to squeeze through. Seconds later she was in the couple’s bedroom. She pushed the window back down into place but not quite all the way there, just as it had looked, and drew in a deep breath.
This room was a cozy oasis after all she’d been through. A collection of crosses and a framed marriage prayer hung on the wall above the stenciled, calligraphic words, Kiss Me Goodnight and Tell Me You Love Me. One pillow said Mrs. and the other said Mr. A framed photo of the happy couple rested on the nightstand. She picked it up and examined it. They were cute, average looking people, probably a little older than she was. They were smiling adoringly at each other. The frame was engraved with the word Forever.
It was all too precious for words. Being immersed in this sweet, simple, wholesome life pulled the bottom out on Abby’s adrenaline rush. She sank to the floor, deflating, and held herself while she wept. She was so dehydrated that no tears came from her eyes.
Eventually that sudden black cloud that had descended on her began to lift. She stood up, drained and empty, looking around her at the bedroom, doing her best to refocus.
It would probably be safer to hang out here all day instead of being out there, she told herself. But she was afraid she was telling herself that because it’s what she wanted to believe.