Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Running Away

Running Away

Aquamarine water laps at the shore with a slow rhythmic pulse along with the transistor
radio playing Motown hits.
It's time to turn over, Denise tells herself under the cover of her sun hat. She reaches for her bikini strap and fastens the ties behind her neck and stands to adjust the lounge
chair. Out on the horizon she can see a cargo ship. Closer in there are a few swimmers on floats. Walking down to the waters edge the temperature of the air is noticeably cooler.
Her painted toes wiggle in the foam as a wave washes over her feet and she is instantly cooled. Denise decides to stroll through the shallow surf along the beach toward the pier.
She sees some people on the pier at the end pointing to something in the water and wonders what it is that has caught their attention.

Stopping as she reached the base of the pier she can make out some divers have surfaced among the pillars at the far end. By this time there is a siren that is getting closer and several police cars and an ambulance have come to a halt at the dunes. Officers in uniform reach the waters edge just as the divers pull the lifeless body of a young girl out of the surf. The Medical Examiner places a white cloth over the girl's body after she was placed onto a gurney and taken away in the ambulance. The lights do not flash. All Denise can do is
stand still with her hands up to her mouth and look in shock at what she had just witnessed.

Turning back toward her lounge chair she decides she will leave early today. What just happened made her feel nauseated. She gathered up her things and walked back up to the boardwalk to her bike. A television camera crew was interviewing one of the people that had been out on the pier. It'll be on the six o'clock news, she thinks.

The beach cruiser tires are sand crusted and make a gritty sound as she pedals along the side road toward her cottage. She chains the bike to the fence and goes up to the porch sits down on the step and washes her feet off with the hose and dries them on her towel.
She can't get the picture of that girl out of her head. The diver had her cradled in his arms but her lifeless arms hung down and her head was bent back over his arm. Long blonde wet hair dripped a cascade of water as she was lifted up out of the surf.

Mrs. Willow from next door came outside and greeted Denise. " Hi sweetheart, how was the beach?" "Oh my gosh, you won't believe what I just saw!" Denise tells her as she walks
over to the fence. "Divers just pulled a girl out of the surf who was dead!" she told her.
"Oh, I'll bet that is the Thompson girl that went missing a few days ago. Did she have long blonde hair and was maybe sixteen?" Mrs. Willow asked. "Yes, that is the way she looked."
Denise said. "What happened, do you know?" she asked. "I just heard some ladies at the grocery store saying they were looking for her and that they thought she had run away from home. Poor child. I heard her parents had split and were drug addicts. Apparently she was staying with an aunt nearby who wasn't much better, either."

Denise hung her head and couldn't help but feel upset and angry at hearing that. " Come on over and sit a minute. I have something I've been holding in a long long time and never told anyone before now." Denise told her neighbor. Mrs. Willow was the mother she wished she had when she was young. They got along well and could talk about just about anything.
She herself had run away once from home at about the same age. She proceeded to tell Mrs. Willow what her experience had been. Memories came out of hiding.

She and her mom fought about everything and anything. They could not see eye to eye. Her mother liked to stay out late and then bring strange men home. More than once, Denise confronted a strange man in the kitchen or sitting out on the porch smoking. She hated that her mother felt it necessary to always have a man in her bed. One night Denise heard loud arguing coming from her mother's room. She got up just as the door to her bedroom flew open and her mother quickly came in and slammed and locked the door behind her. "Quick, jump out the window!" There was blood all over her shirt.
Not knowing what to think, Denise opened the window and fled outside and down the street to her friend Mary's house. She could hear sirens blaring within minutes and getting closer until she realized they were at her house! She and Mary stood in the front yard and held each other and cried as she saw a body on a stretcher put into the ambulance.
Mary's parents went to speak to the police. They told the officer that Denise was with them but the police said she would have to go with them and have her give her account of what had happened. Denise sat in the back of the squad car in her pajamas and turned to watch Mary crying with her patents embracing her.

Denise sat in shock in the counselor's office. Looking down at her hands she picked at her nails. She had no shoes on and someone had given her a blanket to wrap around her.
"Denise, I'm officer Davis. Tell me exactly what happened tonight." she asked her.
"I got home from the school basketball game at about 10:30 pm and saw a old green car parked out front of our house. I went up to the porch and there was a man I never saw before sitting on the swing smoking. Mother was inside in the kitchen and got to the door right about then. She had some chips and salsa and two beers for them. Then I went
inside to my room." "Did your mother introduce the man to you?" "Yes, she said his name was Sam. They had met at the bar over on Dewey St. The country one that has the wagon wheel out front. Mother had her cowboy boots on with her sun dress so I guess that's where she was while I was at the game." Denise said.
"You never saw this man before? Are you sure?" Officer Davis repeated. He had a picture of you as a baby and your mother in his wallet." She opened the wallet and showed
Denise the photo. It was old and stuck to the plastic sleeve that held it. On the back it said
Denise age 1 and Marlo May 30, 1980. Denise looked at it in disbelief. She did not know this man but it seems for certain he knew her and her mother. She wondered if that was her real father. His drivers license picture showed a semi-balding dark haired man with a goatee. It said he lived in Myrtle Beach, S.C.

Denise and her mother had gone to Myrtle Beach several times when she was little.
She would play in the sand while her mother lay out in the sun getting a tan. Men were always attracted to her and coming up to sit and talk to her. Sometimes she would ask one of the men to rub suntan lotion on her back. They never said no. She remembers men walking with them carrying the chairs and towels and mother kissing them goodby. Sometimes mother would call a babysitter to stay all night with her so she could "go on a date with someone she met at the beach." Denise hated that part because the babysitter was usually mean or ignored her. One time a babysitter let her boyfriend come over to the house and get in bed with her! She told me to shut up and never tell or she would say I was really bad and I'd get a spanking. One time the babysitter left me in the house while she and her boyfriend went to a party a few houses away. A teenager came to the door asking for them and tried to come inside but I had the chain on so he couldn't get in. I tried to act sick and see if mother would stay home with me, but she just told me to go to bed and went out anyway.
I figured I would leave one day but didn't know how or when. It became an obsession.

Denise started to stash things she would need like clothes and money in an old suitcase out in the shed.
When she was certain no one would miss her for hours, she climbed out her window and just started walking toward the highway heading out of town.

At the junction of the road she stuck out her thumb to hitch a ride away from her
hell. A few cars passed without stopping. She started to walk. After an hour she sat on the suitcase and rested. Just then a pick up pulled over and the lady told her to get in.

She stepped up into the cab after throwing the suitcase in the back. "Where are you headed, sweetie?" "Anywhere away from here" she sighed. "How far can you take me?"
"I'll have to drop you off at the next town which is twenty miles is that ok?"
"Sure," Denise said looking out the window.
Before she knew it, the truck stopped and she got out. "Thanks!" she said.
"You be careful, honey. Some people might not be so nice. You could get hurt." Denise closed the door and said "Yeah, but it's a wonder I wasn't hurt at home before now."

She found a dry area under the overpass up high. No one would see her up there.
She pulled on her sweatshirt and fell asleep cramped in the corner of the steel reinforcement column.

In the morning she made her way into the tiny town. A church was at the edge of the highway. She was greeted by the ministers wife coming out the front doors. "Are you lost, dear? Come on in here and sit down a minute." she told her. Denise climbed the few stairs and entered the church. She stayed quiet. "You don't have to tell me anything. Lets go out the other door where no one will see you. I have some breakfast ready and you can eat." Denise followed the woman into the house and sat at the table. The minute she finished eating, she rose got her suitcase and thanked the lady and left. The lady jotted down her description of the girl and decided not to disclose their meeting unless asked.

As the days and weeks wore on, Denise felt confidant she was not reported as missing. She lied about her age to get a job waiting tables. She didn't know a soul and the customers were random travelers. Most were headed south to Florida. One afternoon another girl
close to her age came in and ordered lunch. She said she was headed to Daytona
for Spring break. "Wanna go?" she asked. "Sure!" Denise said. She gathered her tip money and walked out as she had already been paid for the week. She had been staying at the homeless shelter but found it hard to rest there. She slept fully clothed huddled in the corner.

"My name is, Christine, what's yours?" she asked as they climbed inside the
faded blue VW bug. "Hi, I'm, Denise." she said while closing the door and rolling down the window. Reaching behind her neck she gathered her hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a rubber band she kept on her wrist. "It's pretty hot today." she added.

They started out on the side road that led to I95 South. Construction crews
worked on one if the lanes and traffic was slowed to a crawl.

Christine asked how come Denise was so eager to leave with someone she didn't even know. Denise just shrugged her shoulders and pulled out some gum. "Want some?" "No, it sticks to my fillings!" Denise wadded up the foil wrapper and put it in the ashtray. "Do you care if I take a nap?" she asked. "No, go ahead. Looks like we're going nowhere fast" Christine responded. She turned on the radio and switched to a country music station. Conway Twitty was singing "Hello Darling."
She wiped the tears from her eyes as she listened because it was one of her favorite songs.
They crawled along the highway for several miles and she turned off at the rest stop. Denise woke up to see Christine heading to the bathroom area. "Guess I better go, too." she thought and got out of the car and followed. Christine was waiting for her inside and pulled out a gun and pointed it at Denise. "This is as far as you're going! Give me your
money or I'll shoot you right here!" she sneered.
"I only have fifty bucks that I just got paid, I swear!" Denise quivered. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the cash and handed over the crumpled bills. Christine grabbed the money and ran toward the car and took off leaving Denise shaking and crying.

Denise had no idea where she was and had no one who cared where she was either. Slowly she walked outside to make sure Christine was gone for good.
That night she slept in one of the bathroom stalls with the door locked. She would pull her feet up off the floor so no one would know she was there. She barely slept while hugging her knees.

In the morning she washed up in the sink. She decided she would just wait there and hopefully the Police or a State Trooper would pull in.
Later that day she saw a squad car pull someone over and make them stop at the rest stop parking area. She waited until the officer was done and then she approached him. "My name is Denise Mitchell and I ran away from home about a month ago from Savannah, GA. Can you help me?" The officer had her sit in the back of the squad car while he ran her information over the microphone to the dispatcher. There was no missing persons report for anyone by that name. He told her he would take her to the juvenile center for now.
She could get help there. She told him about Christine robbing her and all he said was that she is lucky she didn't shoot her. Run away kids usually end up hurt or even killed.

At the center Denise was taken to a large room with several bunk beds up against the walls. Plain white sheets, a pillow and gray blanket were at the foot of the bed.
"Make up your bed, wash up and come into the cafeteria when you are done. Dinner is at five thirty sharp!" the attendant told her.

She sat at the end of the picnic table alone and opened the milk carton.
She hated milk but was so thirsty she didn't care. The meatloaf and macaroni
and cheese were ok and she ate it all. The others in the room looked her over. Heading back to the bunks she was cornered by a huge girl who poked her finger in her stomach and pretended to pull a trigger. "Better not sleep or I'll kill you." she whispered. Denise almost threw up from the smell of the girl. She decided she would leave as soon as she could. The next morning the group was supposed to go out to the courtyard after breakfast. Denise told the custodian she had an upset stomach and had to go to the bathroom. Once there, she crawled out the window and made her way from the grounds and into the wooded area. She crawled through the thick underbrush until she got to the railroad tracks.
Scratched and dirty she brushed off her clothes and walked along the tracks.
She didn't care what direction she was heading but figured it was south from the moss that grew on the trees on the opposite side from the way she was headed.
A freight train came along and was going pretty slow. Slow enough for Denise to
grab the bar and get onboard and crawl inside the open box car. She did not dare fall asleep and kept a close lookout to try to figure out where she was.

The train came to a stop that night in an area where there were several other trains sitting idle. She jumped down and made her way toward the nearby gas station. She recognized where she was and very close to home. By morning she arrived and walked up the steps of her front porch. Her mother was asleep entwined in a mans arms and didn't even twitch as Denise flopped into her bed fully clothed, tired and filthy.

By the time she woke up, the day had passed and the sun was setting. Her mother was sitting out on the porch as Denise opened the screen door and sat down on the step. "What happened to you?" her mother asked while taking a long drag on her cigarette. " I ran away and almost got killed a couple of times." Denise said sarcastically.
"I'm sick of my life here and I'm sick of you not giving a damn about yourself or me!" Denise yelled.
"One of these days you aren't going to be so lucky, mother! You're going to be killed or kill someone yourself!" Denise sobbed. She sat there glaring until she got up the nerve to ask one more question.

"Who is my father?" Denise demanded to know with a voice barely audible. "His name was, Sam." her mother said as she got up to go inside and the screen door slammed behind her.

Cathy Windham
4/6/13



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