Page 18 of Hush Money


  It’s a huge relief having her out of my everyday life. So, life is good. I’m well respected at school. I get along just fine with Dad. The only thing missing in my life is a car. I really, really want one. I’ll be seventeen in July and will need a car… not a lame car, but a super cool car. I’m thinking a Dodge Charger. Another upside of my parents being separated is that it’s easier to get what I want out of them, so I’m thinking that the Charger is as good as mine.

  The next step in my life, as my mother endlessly reminds me, will be trying to get into college. I really want to play college ice hockey. However, it seems like colleges want you to have good grades. Here is where I’m really screwed. I blew off my classes and my grades are worse than poor, just good enough to be allowed to play on the varsity team. I guess I’ll be retaking the SAT’s again.

  My head suddenly lunged forward and then back again hard on to the seat. What seriously bad driving! The car must be on a rough road. Mom was having a hard time keeping the car in control. I held on to the seat in front of me with one hand and protected Gertrude with the other. Ella did not wake up despite being thrown around in her seat. The car came to a sudden stop and my mother turned the engine off.

  “Girls, wake up, we’re home!”

  It was still dark, still raining heavily. I looked at the dashboard clock, it was three in the morning.

  “Arizona, can you wake Ella?” Mom asked.

  I tried to take a peek through the window to see where we were, but they were fogging up now that Mom had turned off the engine. I could barely see, but one thing was for sure, this is not home – not mine anyway.

  This didn’t look the least bit familiar. I tried to clear my mind to figure out where we were. I so wanted to scream at Mom but held my breath until the feeling passed. All I could see were dark, looming trees through the torrents of raindrops. I could vaguely make out the dark shape of what looked like a building; it was too hazy to make anything much out.

  “Get your wellies from the back and put them on. It’s muddy out there,” Mom instructed in her usual direct, no-nonsense way. I was slightly annoyed at her use of the word wellies and wanted to shout rain boots, not wellies, we’re in the U.S. now! However, looking around I sort of wondered. I looked around for the wellies…. no rain boots! I couldn’t see a thing so I switched the lights on. This was definitely not the H3; it looked more like an H2. Mom must have changed cars.

  I turned around and got up to have a look in the back. It was full of junk, mainly ice hockey gear, but I managed to scramble around and found some boots. One of my nails broke as I dislodged the boots from under a box, I instinctively went to put my finger in my mouth. I stopped as I noticed my pink-tipped nails. I was horrified. What had they done to me? I was going to kill Ella. Spritzing me with cologne while I was asleep was one thing, but sticking fake nails to me…well that was a flayable offense!

  “Ella, wake up!” I yelled irritated.

  She stirred, and stretched as she yawned. She looked at me through sleepy eyes and muttered, “What’s up?” Then she looked at Gertrude and smiled, “Hello, doggie!”

  Gertrude wagged her tail and then settled back to sleep.

  “Put on your rain boots, Ella,” I said impatiently as I handed a pink pair over to her.

  “Thanks,” she muttered as she took them and clumsily put them on, stretched and closed her eyes again.

  “Mom, where are we?” I asked annoyed.

  “Home, silly!” she said as she spoke into her cell phone.

  Home? It didn’t make any sense. This was not my home. I held my breath again.

  Mom turned off her cell and looked over at us. She looked different. The lighter hair made her look younger.

  “Wait for Dad to come out to the car, he’ll bring some umbrellas,” she said.

  Phew! Dad was here. Everything was going to be ok after all. There would be a simple explanation.

  There was a sharp knock on Mom’s window. She opened the door. I was expecting Dad but was shocked. It was a man I didn’t recognize. He had dark hair and blue eyes that gleamed as he kissed Mom right on her mouth. Disgusting. He scooped her up in his arms with a laugh as she ruffled his hair. Ella shouted a delighted, “Dad!” as she tried, unsuccessfully, to scramble to the front seat. Gertrude was wagging her tail furiously, but thankfully showed restraint and stayed by my side.

  “Hi, girls!” The stranger said with a smile. “Let me carry your mom in and I’ll be back for you guys in a jiffy!”

  They disappeared. I felt a sense of panic. Where was my cell phone? I felt for it in my hoodie pocket where I usually keep it, but couldn’t find it. I felt around for it on the floor, fruitlessly. This was getting scary. I looked over at Ella. She didn’t look the least bit concerned as she traced stars on the fogged up window and tried to look outside. There was a second knock on Ella’s window before her door opened and the man appeared again.

  “Dad, look at the doggie!” Ella said excitedly.

  Dad? This was the second time she had called him that; I thought I’d misheard her before. Had she lost her mind? It was late and dark, but this man looked nothing like Dad. This man was over six feet tall, dark hair, striking blue eyes. Our dad is a balding blond with brown eyes and a beer gut (not from beer, but from those enormous New Jersey breakfasts). I felt a sense of panic wash over me again and could hardly breathe.

  This had to be a dream! Silly me! A post SAT nightmare… what else could it be? I would just have to dream it out.

  However, I found my mouth saying, “Stay, Ella. Don’t go anywhere with this man!”

  “You silly!” she said as she clambered into his arms.

  “Come on, Arizona, it’s wet and muddy. Can you carry the dog in?” he asked looking at me, clearly puzzled, as he picked Ella up.

  I looked over at Gertrude. She was wagging her tail at the man, but then she wags her tail at anyone. Ok, so I was dreaming. One of those dreams where one thinks one wakes up, but one’s still actually fast asleep. I hate those kinds of dreams!

  I lifted Gertrude into my arms and followed Ella and the stranger through the muddy darkness. My feet sank into the ground with each step, it was heavy going. This mud was no match for the rain boots. My feet were soaked by the time we got to the building I had spied through the trees. I could still not tell much about the outside of it through the rain. I just tried to make it to the front door as quickly as I could, shielding Gertrude inside my hoodie.

  Mom was standing by the door with an armful of towels. She threw some around Ella and then proceeded to pat me dry… yikes… too much physical contact.

  “Go to your rooms, shower and get into your pajamas. Then come down for hot chocolate,” she said turning to remove Ella’s rain boots.

  “You can both sleep in tomorrow,” added the stranger.

  I had no idea what to do or what to say. I wanted to scream and shout, but that would only land me in the psych unit so I clenched my mouth shut, held my breath and went with the flow, as usual. This dream had to end soon; it was boring.

  I looked around. We were standing in a ginormous hallway, dominated by a double stairway to another floor. There were five archways from the hallway leading to… somewhere. I had a room here? If so, I had no idea where to go. As dream/nightmare houses went, this was not too shabby. I followed Ella up the stairs. Gertrude ran past us and disappeared. There were a number of doors at the top of the stairs. I hung back to see where Ella would go. She went straight through the first door on the left and shut it behind her. The door had a pink sign on it that read Ella’s Room. Very handy, hopefully mine would have a nameplate as well.

  Arizona’s Room

  Perfect! Well, almost, the sign was in pink, my least favorite color. This is where I hoped that I was in a dream rather than nightmare. I was sort of hoping that my room would not turn out to be a cave full of tarantulas. I pushed the door gingerly and went inside. Everything looked normal. No giant insects, monsters or murderous beasts. It was, in fact,
almost exactly like my room at home in Princeton, which I guess would be weird if this was not a dream. There was my bed, some hockey posters, my Edward Cullen poster (hey, maybe this will turn into a romantic vampire nightmare!) and my electric guitar. On closer inspection, there were some differences from my real room. My New Jersey Devils bedspread was not on my bed. Instead, there was a pink monstrosity with the word CHEER written on it!

  My eyes focused in on a big blank screen on the wall opposite the bed, a flat screen TV. Cool! I noticed two doors on one wall. Could these be the nightmare doors that had monsters on the other side? I slowly walked over to the first door, opened it and peered inside. It was pitch black. I felt around for a light hoping not to lose my arm to a beast. I found the knob and turned it.

  What a pleasant surprise. My own bathroom! Hey, I’m beginning to love this dream! It was small but had a shower, sink and toilet. Excellent, it was all clean and tidy; I would soon change that. I opened the cabinet under the sink and found sets of towels and extra toothpaste.

  I walked over to the second door with more confidence and opened it. I was overcome. Now I knew I was in a dream–a walk in closet. It was huge; at least three times the size of the bathroom. All the clothes were neatly hung; there were drawers and even shoe stands. But I didn’t recognize the clothes. I would have to inspect them later. First a shower, I stank.

  I took off my muddy jeans and hoodie, threw them into the laundry basket and stepped into the hot spray of water. It felt so good, soothing my aching back. That ride must have been long, my muscles hurt. I shampooed and conditioned my hair and wrapped myself in the large, pink (I am not a pink girl!) towel that hung on the railing outside the cubicle before I stepped back into my room. I dried myself, located a comb on a very prissy-looking dressing table and sat down on the bed to untangle my hair.

  I absentmindedly relived my last hockey goal, my very favorite pastime. It had been my finest moment on ice this season. I had broken loose and jammed the puck right through the goalie’s legs. I could still feel the amazement of both my teammates and the opponents–sweet!

  As I idly glanced into the mirror at the far end of the room, I was jolted back into the present. Who was that staring back at me? I slowly walked over to the mirror and gazed into it. My hand wandered up to my hair, I pulled it. Ouch! It was attached to my head, but it couldn’t be mine! It was BLOND…platinum blond! I looked ridiculous. Straight, blond hair. I looked like an awful Barbie doll. I pulled at it again, harder this time, willing myself to waken. It just hurt more as I pulled off a clump. I stared at it in my palm, feeling the strands with my fingers unbelievingly. I felt a sense of dread and lost control. I screamed.

  “MOM!”

  I ran out of my room, still wrapped in my towel and stumbled down the stairs nearly tripping. Half way down, I stopped. I held my breath.

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  Table of Contents

  Hush Money (Talent Chronicles)

 


 

  Susan Bischoff, Hush Money

 


 

 
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