Retribution (3 page)

Too early to eat lunch, but if he walked to one of the local diners, maybe
Joe's,
since it was the furthest away; it would kill at least two hours. He chuckled over his choice of verbs, his own private joke. Besides, he could use the exercise. His dead end job robbed him of his coveted gym time, but soon keeping in shape would be a choice and not a requirement.

As he locked the door to the house, a sense of isolation gripped him. He should be surrounded by his wife and daughter. But here he was, alone.
Stop it!
He might be alone, but life bubbled within him. Even though the mantle of guilt had become a constant second skin, he
would
survive.

~*~

Seeing the “Welcome to Virginia” sign on the side of the road, Lillian felt as if she had finally entered the south. Towering pines lined the highway, so different from the maples in Cleveland. She flexed tight fingers one hand at a time, feeling the burn as she bent each muscle. Had her decision to make the fourteen-hour drive in one day been a mistake? No one watched for her at the end of the road. The light salad eaten at the gas station sat heavy in her stomach.

Glad when a roadside rest appeared, she pulled off. Half a dozen cars, mostly SUVs, had claimed the spots closest to the restroom. She pulled her stiff body from the seat, and stretched; her back cracked with each movement.

The restroom stood on top of a small knoll, and people walked up and down the cement path, their purposeful strides reminding her of ants going to and from the nest. Surrounding the walkway, yellow and pink mums still bloomed in beds mulched with pine needles. Empty picnic tables stood off in the distance, perhaps intentionally placed away from the smells and contamination of the main attraction.

A man dressed in blue workman's overalls emptied the metal trash receptacle just outside the double, glass doors, placed the full bag into his two-wheeled cart, and replaced the bag with a clean one.

She smiled at him as she passed.

He tipped a finger to his eyebrow. “Ma'am.”

A giggle bubbled up her throat.
Ma'am?
After using the facilities, she hummed as she slipped coins into a vending machine secured behind metal bars.
Why didn't I pack snacks? We always used to pack snacks, Craig and I…

Her newfound levity evaporated as quickly as it had come. The bleakness of reality felt heavier after experiencing freedom, if only for a few minutes. She walked back to the car, her head down. Was discouragement always to ride in the passenger seat of her life?

She punched the locks on her doors, started the engine, and lowered each window just an inch. As she pulled the candy bar from the wrapper, chocolate clung to her fingertips. She gasped as horror filled her. Her fingers, they were charred and black. Just like Craig. Just like Susan. Gasping, she threw the candy and it stuck to the passenger window, looking like an appendage severed from its burnt body. Gagging, she bolted from the car.

Hanging over the bathroom sink, the terror faded into the vortex of the swirling water. What in the world had happened? She had never reacted like that before. Suddenly she felt as heavy as the boulder sitting outside the door, as though gravity itself tugged at her, trying to pull her into the bowels of the earth. Could her dad be right? Fingers of doubt tickled along the edges of her mind. Maybe leaving home wasn't the answer. She stood and patted cool water on her face as red-rimmed eyes stared back at her from the mirror. The room spun and she grabbed the sink. In a blur, she heard a voice.

“Can I help you? Are you sick?”

She slumped forward and felt hands grab her before she lost consciousness.

~*~

“Try to breathe slowly. I'm a registered nurse.”

Lillian felt a hand at her wrist. Coldness seeped through the back of her jeans and shirt, but she lacked the energy to do anything about it. She opened her eyes and a middle-aged woman smiled; soft wrinkles formed around her mouth.

“Who's with you? I can get them.”

Lillian felt numb. Where was she? The ceiling was made of exposed wood. The skylights were dirty. She would have to clean them. Someone had spray painted “Missy loves David.” The rest area. That's why the skylight hadn't been cleaned. Who cared in a rest area? She tried to focus on the face peering over her.

“What car are you driving? I can get your companion.”

“I'm alone.” She licked her dry lips, the words tasting bitter, as she struggled to sit up.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

Her head spun and she placed a hand on the floor. “I'll be all right. I think I drove too long without a break.”

“Did you have lunch?”

“A salad.”

“Maybe your blood sugar dropped. Let me get you a candy bar.”

“No, please…” She shifted to her knees and then stood. The room swayed, but soon steadied. “I feel better.” She forced a smile.

The woman continued to stare at her with concern. “Let me help you to your car, at least.”

“I think I'll get a can of pop and sit outside on the bench for awhile. Really, I'm fine.”

The woman took her arm. “Do you want to get your soda before you sit down?”

Parked cars lined the lower sidewalk, hers among them. Her heart lurched as she saw a man opening her car door. No, she had parked further down, but in her fright, she had not locked her car. How long had she been gone? Most likely, someone had helped himself to her purse by now. “I…uh…”

“What kind of pop do you like?”

“Anything. I don't really care, but you don't have to do this. I have money…”

“And it's in the car. I can see it on your face. Not a problem.”

After purchasing a can of lemon-lime soda, the two women settled on a bench. Lillian lifted her face to the sun, the warmth penetrating her skin and giving renewed energy.

A middle-aged couple passed, holding hands and smiling as though life were the best.

An ache crept into her heart. It should have been like that for her.

The air smelled clean in spite of the traffic in the parking area. A large lady, her flowered caftan fluttering around her, tugged on the leash of a small white dog, trying to pull him up the sidewalk. The dog won, and the lady retreated down the sidewalk.

After a few sips of pop, Lillian's stomach relaxed and strength flowed back into her muscles. Even so, she felt reluctant to leave the relative security of her spot on the bench.

“So tell me about yourself,” the woman said.

How could she summarize her life to include all the good, all the drama, all the unknown? Since childhood, she had been told not to talk to strangers. As an attorney, she had learned the hazards of taking others at their word without proof. She glanced at the woman beside her. About her size but with graying hair cut short. She seemed to radiate strength and caring as her soft blue eyes focused on Lillian, curious but not invasive.

Lillian took a deep breath. “Well, I was a spoiled rich girl who married an amazing middle-class man and together we had a fantastic little girl. Then two years ago they died, and I am heading to South Carolina to try to put my life back together.”

“Oh, my dear child!” The woman wrapped her arms around Lillian and pulled her close.

Lillian stiffened, but then, as though touched by the sun itself, she melted into the woman's embrace. It felt so good to be cared for, to have someone feel compassion for her.

The woman placed her hands on Lillian's shoulders. “You have suffered so much. And yet, here you are, going on with your life.”

“I don't have a choice.”

The woman patted Lillian's folded hands. “Indeed, you do. I have seen people give up under less bitter circumstances.” She smiled softly. “God has an amazing plan for you.”

Not wanting to offend the woman, Lillian took a slow sip of her soda.

“You see that camper down there?” The lady pointed toward the truck parking area.

“The blue one?”

The lady laughed. “Oh, not that one. The gray one beside it.”

The gray camper had been around a few years. Not shiny like the blue one, the gray body had dulled and the decals were mostly worn away.

“That camper is my life right now. My husband has Alzheimer's; his memory is still intact but slipping. We bought this camper many years ago, always intending to travel the states, but never got around to it. Now we're doing it.” She glanced at the camper, then back to Lillian. “You know, I didn't plan to stop here. Mother Nature had not called, if you know what I mean. But Harry and I have this little game going. We want to visit a rest area in every state. So I pulled in, saw you washing your hands, and I knew you needed help.”

Lillian listened to the gentle flow of the woman's words, soothing and earnest. The stranger would have been a great counselor.

“Do you believe in God?” the woman asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you know this meeting was no accident. I don't know what your future will bring, but God knows, and He knew you needed a kind word right now, at this rest area.” The woman squeezed Lillian's hand and stood. “I had better get back to Harry before he comes looking for me or wanders off, which he does sometimes.” She paused and looked long into Lillian's face. “God be with you, dear one.”

Lillian watched until the woman and her camper disappeared around the building toward the highway. She tossed the empty pop can into the metal container and walked toward her car, searching her mind for the lady's name. Had she ever told her? The woman had not even asked for hers.

Her feet quickened as she approached the unlocked car. Surely, her purse would be gone. And what if someone took the car keys just to be hateful? Squinting in the bright light, there didn't appear to be anyone in the car. The doors were all closed, even though she couldn't remember closing hers.

Cautiously, she moved forward and glanced into the driver's window. Her purse, which she had left on the passenger seat, was gone. Choking back tears and words of self-recrimination, she jerked open the car door. A folded strip of paper lay on the driver's seat. She picked up the paper, a grocery store tape, and read the note scratched on the back:

“I saw you run from your car. I put your purse under the seat, and cleaned up the chocolate bar. The car keys are under the seat, too. I hated to leave them there, but felt out-of-sight was better than in the ignition. I hope you are all right.” There was no signature.

She stared at the paper. Who would do something that kind? She retrieved her purse and digging inside, found her wallet, credit cards and money. With surprise, she leaned back against the seat of the car. The day had started as a challenge and she had asked for God's protection. He had provided a lady with no name and someone willing to clean and protect her car. Amazing.

She picked up the insulated cup that sat in the holder below the dash, a gift from her sister Beth. Bits of sand and tiny sea shells swirled in mock-ocean water. She would miss Beth, but her sister, in her residency in medical school, seldom had time to come home.

On impulse, she dug in her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Beth's number came up. It always did. She seldom called anyone else. The phone made jingling sounds as the number was automatically dialed.

“Dr. Goodson.”

“Beth, it's Lillian.”

“Lilly! I didn't bother to check caller ID. How are you?”

“Do you have time to talk? I figured you would be on duty, but…”

“Hey, you're my sister. Barring a cardiac arrest or severed artery, I can take a few minutes' break. Are you alone?”

“I'm sitting at a roadside rest in Virginia.”

A sigh sounded thorough the receiver. “So you left?”

“I had to.”

“I know.” Silence filled the line for a few seconds. “Will you be all right? You know you can always come and stay with me in Chicago.”

“And do what? I love you for the offer, but I need to work. Sitting around all day is driving me crazy. Besides, I would never see you. Residents keep awful hours.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Bets, you won't believe what just happened.” She shared the two strange encounters.

“Wow. I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything, just know God is taking care of me.”

“Well, just be careful, OK?”

“You sound as if you don't agree with my move. Do you know something I don't?”

“No, really, I'm on your side, sis. Listen, I'm trying to get off for Thanksgiving.”

“I'll come home, too! We can stay up all night and talk, just like we used to.”

Laughter filled the phone. “You steal Dad's flashlight and I'll get the snacks.”

“I miss you, Beth.” The ache of loneliness tugged at her heart. Tears filled her eyes.

“I miss you too. And Lillian, I worry about you.”

“Beth, I told you—”

“I know what you told me, and I believe you, but let me worry if I want to. You're my sister, what else can I do?”

“You can pray for me.”

“Did I tell you I've been attending the chaplain's services on Sunday when I have time? He's made me think, Lilly.”

Lillian smiled. “Put that on our agenda for Thanksgiving. I want to hear all about it.”

Muffled voices filtered through the phone. “Sis, I've got to go, but I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lillian pushed end and wiped tears from her eyes.

How easy it would be to just stay here, to fall asleep in the Virginia rest area. For a precious period of time, all would be as it had been. Before the trial that distracted her from what was important. Before the fire. Sighing, she turned on the ignition.

The sun accomplished its journey across the sky. North Carolina rolled on forever. Jives, the Australian voice on the GPS, kept her moving, one route to the next, one gas station to the next, all looking the same. Fast food for supper, a burger this time, washed down with a chocolate milkshake. She imagined her mother's scowling face as the contraband food entered her body. She smiled and savored the fat and calories even more.