Alora Funk- The Deliverance: Book 1
Chapter 10
The new start-
Waking up snug and comfortable, I left my cozy blankets to get dressed for school. Since it was a school night, I had to sleep in my room. My heat stayed in bed, and I shivered as I got ready. I hadn’t planned things well, because I was horrified to find I was stuck wearing the same outfit I had worn during my first and second day of school. They were already drab and unbecoming, but now I had to wear them for the third time in my short school career. Everything else was too dirty and stinky. I had washed my clothing in the sink on Friday, and worn my other two outfits over the weekend, leaving me with only that stupid outfit to wear again.
At school, I went to all of my new classes. It was so uncomfortable. All the teachers called me Jane and tried to get me to tell the class a few things about myself. As I was turned to face my peers, I couldn’t speak. Even if I had wanted to, nothing would come out. Each time, my heart would pound violently against my chest. Sweat would form under my armpits. I really hoped the snickering kids wouldn’t notice my odd behavior. When I would walk in the halls, several kids made it their point to tease me. I wanted to go home so bad. School was not for me.
Going to all six periods and meeting new teachers made it a very long day. I couldn’t stand school. I wished Peggy would let me stay home. She wouldn’t even know I was there.
After I had gotten off the bus in Mantua, I walked to the Country Store to meet the person who sent me the anonymous letter the previous week. It turned out to be London, and she was there like she said she would be. As I walked through the store’s driveway, she jumped out of her car and ran to me. Without giving me a chance to steady myself, she dove at me with a giant hug. We almost toppled over at her unexpected embrace.
“Oh Jane,” she said in a high soprano as she showered my face in kisses. “It is so good to see you. I have been awfully worried about you. Are you alright?”
I didn’t answer. She continued caressing me for a moment more, then she backed off. My muscles were stiff at the unwelcomed attention.
“Oh Jane. It is so good to see you. Are the Sanibel’s treating you well?” I stared. I wasn’t ready to talk to her. To that point, Peggy was the only one who had heard my voice.
London kept talking, “Do you know how they discovered you? It was me. I am the reason that you were rescued.”
The lady from the hospital was my rescuer?
“It was I that found you. That is why you are so dear to me. I feel responsible for you. It had to be divine intervention drawing me to you. I’ll tell you just how it worked. You see, our church had just launched a new challenge to us. They told us to seek out someone and share with them the love of God. Instantly the Russians flashed across my mind. Those are the same Russians that held you captive, anyway, they lived just across the street from me. I decided they were just the perfect people I could share God’s love with.
“I decided a plate of cookies a week would be my first month of service. That week, I used my best cookie recipe and filled a glass plate with oatmeal raisin cookies. I brought the cookies over and rang the doorbell. As I stood with the plate of cookies, I said a silent prayer that they would answer the door. Of course, they didn’t, so I just left the plate on their door step with a note. The note simply said, you are loved. Even though they didn’t answer, I knew they were home, for I watched their house carefully, always waiting for the chance to get to fellowship them. They only had one black car, and I could see it through their garage window. The car rarely left.
“Into the second month, my theme was bread. I wanted to give them a new type of bread every week. I had fun with this. I loved to bake bread. I made them pretzels, and parker house rolls, and wheat bread. Each week, I prayed that they would open their door. They never did. Eventually, though, my goodies always disappeared. They would just sneak their door open when they were sure I wasn’t around, then they would bring in the treats and quickly close the door. It made me feel good to know that they were at least enjoying my service.
“The third month I decided to be creative, and I made them a new craft each week. That was a fun month. I love making crafts. On the third week, there was a note on their door. It said:
We like treats. Treats ok.
We no like junk, we throw junk away.
“That actually hurt my feelings. I had worked hard on those crafts. I had decided that I was just done serving them. I had done it for almost three months. God would understand. But, I don’t think God wanted me to stop, because that week in church a speaker got up and talked about the challenge again. He told us not to get discouraged, because what we were doing was making a difference, and that the Lord was aware of it.
“That was all the pep talk I needed. I decided to return to helping them. On the fourth month, I returned to treats. That month I experimented with brownies. Mint brownies, marshmallow brownies, brown Betties, oh I liked that month. I am sure they did too, because the treats were always snatched up.
“By the fifth month, I decided I just hadn’t been doing enough. I really wanted to touch their lives, make an impact. I decided to shovel their snow for them. It was February. Luckily, I was able to find four different days to clear their snow. It probably never helped them, since they never left. But I wanted them to see me serving them.
“In March, my last month, I decided to clean the exterior of their home. The first week, I went around washing their windows. It was a warm enough day that I was sure the windows wouldn’t freeze. That’s when I discovered two things. First-I discovered they weren’t home. The car was not in the garage. They must have slipped out in the night or early in the morning. I wondered if they usually left when I was asleep. Second-I discovered that the patio door was unlocked.
“Now, I am ashamed to talk about the next thing I did, for it was unbecoming of a Christian. I went inside. I did it in the name of service. I decided since I had the outside of their windows crystal clear, I just wanted to make the inside match. I went into the kitchen and did a bang up job on the sliding back door. It was so streak-free they might have walked through it, not knowing the glass was there. I went into their front room and washed those windows. I must admit, my heart was pounding pretty hard for being in there, but I felt it was okay, because it was done in the name of service.
“I went around and washed all their windows, and I was speedy quick, for I didn’t want to get caught. Their furnishing seemed odd. They didn’t have the American fineries that most of our neighbors had. They just had two hardback chairs in the living room that were scooted up to a small plastic table. The kitchen had a matching small table, with two hardback chairs. That was it. Well, there were a few pictures of Russian dignitaries on the wall, but nothing more. There were just three bedrooms on the main floor. Two were completely empty, and the third had a simple double bed in it, with a green blanket on top. The closets had clothes, but they were rather drab. There was one dresser. I had never seen such a bare home before. This house was just odd, and dreary.
“When I went down to the basement, I found it unfinished. It was a large, open room with nothing stored in it. At the end of the room was a door.
“Then, I went to the door and opened it up. What I saw made me scream.
“There you were, lying in a hospital bed hooked up to all these tubes. I can tell you I wasn’t expecting that. I wanted to run away, for it was scary. But, since I could tell you were just a child, I couldn’t get myself to run. I tipped toed to your bed and just looked at you. I shook you and said- hello. You didn’t answer and you didn’t move. There was no response from you.
“I guess I am naive, for at the time, I didn’t think it was out of place to find you there. I was just surprised, but I didn’t think this was a criminal act. I figured that the Russians had a sick daughter and they were caring for you. It seemed to answer a lot of questions I had. It explained wh
y they never left. It was because they were so busy taking care of their sick daughter, and of course they hadn’t been too friendly, because they had language barriers. It was probably hard to be Russian in America, especially Bountiful Utah. At the time, this just made me love them even more. I could appreciate the hard time they had as parents. I wanted to serve them night and day. I was determined I would do all I could to help lift their burden.
“I rubbed your hand for a while and sang you some hymns. As I was walking up the stairs, I heard their electric garage open. I was terrified. They were home! I didn’t want them to see me in their house. I quickly grabbed my cleaning supplies and ran out the back door. Just as I closed it, I heard the kitchen door to the garage open. I snuck away against the side of their home that had no windows. I am pretty sure they never saw me.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you and what I thought were your parents. No wonder the Russians were so standoffish. They had the trial of their daughter in a coma. That is actually what I thought. So, I did what any good Christian would do, I created a plan of Relief. That Sunday, I shared with the ladies in my church the circumstance I found you in. ‘What better way can we do service than to help relieve the burdens of this family?’ I told them then I asked them to think about going in and reading to you. Just because you were in a coma, didn’t mean that you couldn’t have stimuli. I doubted you got much in that empty house. I also asked them to bring meals over every Sunday to help relieve the burdens on your parents. I had our compassionate leader pass around a signup sheet. They were very eager to help, because Christians love to serve.
“When I had a full schedule together, I asked Cindy Palmer to meet me at my house. She could speak Russian. I asked her to write a letter to the family and explain what it was we wanted to do for them. As she was composing this letter, I heard their front door open from across the street. They both came outside, each carrying a bag of garbage. I turned to Cindy and said, ‘Look at that, God sent them outside the very moment you were here. Hurry, let’s go talk to them.’
“We ran out the door and stopped them before they could go inside. Cindy said, “Hi,” in Russian. She explained what we intended to do to help them. I had Cindy tell them that we had heard that they had a daughter in a coma and we wanted to help. The Russians became very defensive. Cindy translated that they swore up and down that they didn’t have a daughter. They claimed that they lived alone. Cindy turned to me very confused. I told her to let them know that they didn’t have to be embarrassed and that we wanted to help. She translated that to them. Again, they got very defensive, claiming no one else lived there but them. After Cindy again told me what they had said, I asked her to ask who the child was in their basement. The Russians must have understood English, for the man turned to me and said, “No Daughter!” He grabbed his wife’s hand and they turned their backs to us and quickly went into their house where they slammed the door in our faces. Cindy began to cry. It was horrible, really.
“Cindy went home all distressed. I sat on my patio swing and just watched their house. As I sat there, I was so confused. I knew they had a girl in the basement. I had seen you. I had touched you and sang to you. Why would they say otherwise? As I was sitting there, Scott, my husband came out and sat by me. He could see I was bothered and he asked me what was going on. So, I told him all that had happened. I told him that things just didn’t add up. Why were they lying? As we talked about you, we both wondered why they would put you in the back end of the basement, especially since they had two open bedrooms on the main floor. If someone was carrying for a sick child, they would want them easily accessible. What mother would be able to sleep at night with her sick child in a place she couldn’t easily check on them? I mean, that room had been cemented in. The walls were extra thick.
“Scott thought it very odd indeed. He had always been uncomfortable with our strange neighbors, but now, he really felt that something was wrong. The more we talked about it, the worse we felt. He finally decided this matter needed to be investigated. We owed that to you.
“Scott is a sheriff and he decided to put together a warrant to search their house. I am not sure what method of suspicion he used to be able to make it legal, for I don’t understand police business very well. Whatever means he had to use, he was able to get the warrant. He was pretty sure the Russians would try to run the first chance they had since they knew we knew about you. He told me not to give them that chance. He said to just stay out on the porch until he could return with his men to search the house. He didn’t think they would try to leave with me right there watching them. “If they do try to go,” he said, “then walk across the street the minute their garage door opens. Their car is small. If they are trying to sneak the girl away, you will be able to see her in their back seat. I doubt there is enough room in their trunk to stuff her in there.
“So I did what he asked me to. I sat out on the porch swing until he returned with his squad. They had to bust the door in, because of course, the Russians weren’t going to let them in. I was afraid there was going to be a gun fight, but there wasn’t. And sure enough, they found you in the basement. The ambulance came and whisked you away. It made me sick to think that you had been there this whole time, and we had done nothing to help you.”
We sat in silence after that. She had given me so much to think about. I hoped that learning about my discovery would spark my memory, but it didn’t. It almost felt like she was telling me someone else’s story.
London looked at her watch. “I gotta go. I really wish I could have spent more time with you. Will you meet me here again next Monday? Mondays seem to work out really well for me.” Unconsciously I nodded yes.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” she rang out in excitement. “You responded to me. That is the first time that you responded to me!” She gave me a strong hug, crushing my ribs. “Please don’t tell any of the Sanibels about our meeting. I will explain to you later why it must be done in secret.”
As I walked home, London stood in the parking lot, watching me leave. I sort of liked London, and I was also scared of her. She seemed to really care about me, which felt good. What scared me was her never ending energy. She was so hyper, and she never stopped talking.