Carolina Key

Ch. 21

  Hope

  Hot Springs, Arkansas

 

  The next day, I met Rosa’s supervisor Marla, and she hired me on the spot. She was impressed with my experience and enjoyed the meal I made her in the kitchen as part of my interview. She didn’t give me a hard time about references or a resume. Rosa had confided to me how desperate they were for summer help.

  “The Human Body Exhibit has had people pouring in here like crazy. I don’t understand it.

  It gives me the creeps.” she said, as we cleaned up and prepared for the lunch rush.

  “Do you mean the exhibit has actual cadavers?” I asked, shocked.

  “That’s exactly what I mean.” she said. We both shivered at the same time. When I was here the other day I was in such a fog about Grace’s situation that I had barely noticed. I assumed that the body parts were wax figures or something. Gross!

  I shook my head. I didn’t have time to worry about that. I had to find another place to stay.

  I had moved out of the campground yesterday afternoon, when the camp hosts came to my door

  to leave a message that a young man had come by asking for me. I spent a miserable night in my car. I didn’t sleep at all and alternately prayed, cried, and called Phillip on the phone, to get updates and comfort. I missed Phillip and Grace so badly.

  I had to find someplace to get some sleep and safety. I also missed my home and my kitchen.

  Rosa put me to work on baking cookies for the boxed lunches they sold. This, fortunately, proved to be a calming activity and I inhaled the warm scent of chocolate as Rosa and I got to know each other. The difficult part was deciding how much to tell her about myself. I explained that Grace was traveling with some friends from camp before school started up again and Phillip was home working. She was divorced with one son in elementary school.

  “I am doing some research for the camp and decided to take a job to supplement the camp’s

  expenses. I’ll go back home after school starts.” I said. If Rosa wondered at my story she didn’t

  comment. She struck me as someone I could trust, but I was not ready to confide in anyone. We made it through the morning’s work and lunch rush. About 1:30, she said, “I usually take my lunch on one of the benches by the waterfall.” she said. “Would you like to join me?” she asked, graciously.

  “Oh… I didn’t have time to pack a lunch this morning. I guess I’ll just grab a Coke from the

  machine. I’ll come sit with you though, it sounds good to get outside for a bit,” I said. My stomach was growling. Rosa said nothing, just nodded her head and headed for the exit. I checked my pockets for change. I was almost out of cash. I was hesitant to use my credit cards, so I would have to find a bank to cash a check soon. I selected a Coke and pushed my way through the glass doors to the benches. Tourists milled around outside trying to keep their

  toddlers from falling into the beautiful churning waters that surrounded the outdoor area. There

  was a gorgeous, glass enclosed bridge on the second story high above our heads. The area was lush with green plants and flowers. It was almost like a jungle garden and smelled heavenly. I stood for a moment, enjoying the scenery and looking at the huge boulders around the waterfall.

  I walked towards the bench and stopped short when I saw that Rosa had spread out two of the

  boxed lunches from the snack bar. “Let me treat you on your first day, ok?” she said with a kind

  smile lighting her brown eyes.

  “Thank you,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. I struggled for composure. Her sweet gesture was

  so unexpected.

  “This is so thoughtful. I really needed a friend today,” I said, my voice shaking.

  She pretended not to notice and she handed me a wrapped sandwich.

  “Try the roast beef, it’s the best.” The sandwiches were great, and we ate in a companionable silence. After we threw away our trash and settled back on the bench, Rosa dipped her head.

  “I was taught to pray after my meal.” I bowed my head to pray as well, relieved to find Rosa was a fellow Christian. I felt better at that moment than I had all day.

  During the afternoon we worked to clean and prepare the snack bar and kitchen for the next

  morning. I swept and mopped the dining room and cleaned the bathrooms. Friday passed much

  in the same way.

  On Saturday, I wandered over to the Ford Bathhouse determined to find a better place to sleep

  than the parking lot. I walked through the building and noticed for the first time the many dressing rooms located in the shower room. They were almost like closets, with a brown door. Just to see, I decided to hide in one. I figured I could always pretend to be looking for someone if I got caught. It was about 4:30 when I went in. The bathhouse closed at 5:00. I waited in utter silence until 7:30. It was quite possibly the most nerve wracking two hours of my life.

  I could not hear anything and even if it meant getting arrested, I couldn’t wait any longer. I was desperate to know if I had managed to pull it off. I cautiously opened the door that led into a hallway. It was dark. I couldn’t believe it. No one had noticed me!

  For the next two hours I crept through the halls of the building until I was sure that no one was there. Carefully, I rounded each corner, convinced that any minute someone would grab me or yell at me. My heart was beating furiously. Occasionally I stayed in one room or another, killing time and looking for a safe place to camp out. When I reached the lobby, I peeked out the window to the parking lot. I could hear the heavy footsteps of a security guard. It was dark and he carried a huge flashlight and baton on his belt. I wondered if that meant he didn’t have a gun.

  Crossing through the lobby, I entered the first of the heated pool rooms. The stained glass ceiling was huge and domed. In the moonlight, it was really quite peaceful. The room was extremely humid. I tried to breathe normally and found the heavy air very relaxing. I had a sudden urge to feel the heated water on my skin. I tiptoed to the edge of the pool and sat down.

  I slipped my flip flops off and laid them beside me. I dunked my feet into the water and watched the ripples. I wondered if there was some kind of silent alarm or motion detector that would go off if I jumped in. I slid into the water and gasped at the heat. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. What on earth was I doing? I was miles away from home and my daughter had been kidnapped by a killer. I felt very much alone. I swam for a few minutes trying to take stock of the unique situation I found myself in. I missed my husband and longed to talk to him. I wanted to feel his arms around me, to hear his voice lead us in prayer as he had done last night. I was glad to be away from the campground. Daniel would never find me in this building tonight. I am at least safe tonight I told myself.

  I crept up the pool stairs and sat dripping on the top step. After I had dried a bit I tiptoed over to a basket of towels and helped myself to one. I cleaned up the wet floor and wrapped up in the

  luxurious, fluffy towel. I checked out the lobby window again on the way back to the dressing

  room. I could see the security guard at a distance.

  I spent the rest of the night sleeping off and on in one of the “resting rooms,” used by the rich and famous in the old days. It didn’t feel too restful, the dust was enough to keep me sneezing all night. I set the alarm on my watch for 4:30 a.m. I wasn’t sure what time the staff would arrive. The bathhouse opened at 8:00 a.m. I also took advantage of the electricity to charge my cell even though I didn’t dare use it. I feared it could be used to trace my location.

 

  I awoke stiffly and dressed in eerie silence. I hid again in the maze of dressing rooms. It would be a challenge to blend in with the morning crowd if the t
ourists were sparse. It turned out I needn’t have worried. By 8:25 a.m. the foyer was flooded with women in their 60s, ready for their mud masks and sea kelp facials.

  “I want to look ten years younger, Helen!” one lady with silver hair said. When her companion gave her a withering glance she turned red and mumbled, “Ok, maybe five.”

  I shyly pushed through the crowd and kept my head down. No one seemed to notice me going upstream to the exit. Outside the sunlight was bright and a steady stream of Town Cars were going past,

  husbands dropping off their wives at the spa for a day’s worth of beauty and $1,000’s worth of self confidence.

  I looked across the street and noticed an Asian man with a ponytail, standing with his feet planted wide, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. He seemed to be staring at me. He looked so out of place on Hot Springs’ main street. There was a coffee shop next door and I ducked inside it, trying to convince myself that surely I had nothing to fear from a Chinese man with a ponytail. I ordered a coffee and looking over my shoulder I rushed into the ladies’ room. I stayed there for several moments until my heartbeat returned to normal and I began to feel quite silly. I was becoming paranoid. Finally, disgusted with myself, I stepped out of the restroom into the crowded shop. My coffee was now lukewarm, but I drank it anyway as I left by the back exit. I rounded the corner to wait at the bus stop and was soon picked up by the Hot Springs transit.

  I visited a church on the edge of town and took pleasure in the joy of worshipping with other

  believers. On Sunday evening, after hiding in the dressing room again and carefully checking on

  the security guard, I began to snoop around a little and found an unlocked back door. There is

  only one video camera that I can see and that is in the gift shop by the register. Luckily I saw the red light on it before I stepped in there. I took the opportunity to send a telex to Phillip letting him know I was safe but that Daniel was in town. He replied that Ken had not tracked down Daniel’s mother’s house in Waco. How frustrating!

  On Monday, my work day was a good one. I was greeted warmly by Rosa and during our morning coffee break she shared some Mexican hot chocolate with me. She said she didn’t like coffee. She said it didn’t sit well with her stomach since she had had her gall bladder removed some years ago.

  “So Rosa, tell me about yourself.” I urged. Her eyes turned sad for a moment.

  “Oh, there is nothing much to tell. I used to work at the Creation Museum in Ohio. I have a son. His name is Enrique. We live here about six years.”

  “Muy bien,” I said. She gasped in surprise.

  “Habla espanol?” she asked. “Well, I am not fluent but I was lucky enough to be part of a desegregation program in the 80s and I went to a Spanish-English school. I can speak, read, and write Spanish. I can translate some.” I answered her in Spanish.

  “You have a very good accent,” she said. I looked at her and grinned.

  “For a white girl?” I asked. She laughed. “I wasn‘t going to say that.” I laughed easily with her.

  “It’s ok, that’s what all my friends used to say. I grew up in Port Aransas and there is a big Hispanic population there and also in Corpus Christy.” I said. She nodded and said pensively, “I have always wanted to go to Texas.”

  We went back to the snack bar to prepare for the noontime crowd. When we broke for our own lunch about 2 p.m. I asked Rosa to follow me to Walmart and have lunch with me.

  “My treat. You have made me feel so welcome here.” I said. I wanted to leave my car in the parking lot so that if Daniel discovered it he wouldn’t know where I was staying or working. Rosa agreed and I explained that a friend was picking me up from work and we planned to do some shopping. She said nothing and ducked her head. I could tell she didn’t believe me but she was too polite to say anything.

  After work, I caught the bus and headed back to the Bathhouse.

  For the next couple of weeks my life was a quiet pattern of work and waiting. I continued to work in the Mid America Science Museum snack bar and hide in the dressing room of the Ford Bathhouse each night. Phillip checked in with me often by telex and I began to be concerned that someone would notice the telex tape becoming used but no one ever did.

  Phillip had proposed to me from Paris by telex while he was on a mission trip. As a twenty year old college student I had been blown away by such a romantic gesture.

  Several nights I cried myself to sleep, the loneliness and grief over being without my child and

  husband almost overwhelmed me at times. Rosa was a great comfort to me. She seemed to sense that I couldn’t confide in her. She didn’t pry, just continued to hold my hand and pray with me at lunchtime. Without my Savior’s love and Rosa’s friendship I never would have made it through each day.