Strange New Feet Read online

  “Safia?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  Safia turns around and grabs here, hugging her tight. “It’s going to be okay.” She nods, peering into her green eyes to make sure she knows it.

  Sue smiles back. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” Safia gives her one last squeeze and then hurries over to peer out the back door. No sign of movement. She steps out onto the porch. She can hear some commotion echoing from the road. Her heart speeds up as she runs down the porch steps, hugs the side of house and makes her way around the side.

  “What the…?”

  It takes her a moment to register what she’s seeing. A car has crashed through the tents along the side of the road, some of them are still rolling into the trees, some of them lay flattened in the grass. The car is now only twenty yards away, barreling towards the house, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake.

  Safia turns back and tries to run. Her breath is stuck in her chest, her legs have contracted and filled with lead. She screams. “Sue! Sue! Get out of the house!”

  She hits the porch steps just as the car hits the front of the house. The sound is deafening. She feels the steps shake beneath her feet and she falls.

  “Olivia!” she screams. Ignoring the pain in her knee, she scrambles up. Half-running, half stumbling, she makes it to the shattered sliding glass door. With a shaking hand, she slowly moves the curtain aside and stares into the smoke and dust filled living room. A loud bang makes her jump as something she can’t see falls.

  “Sue?” her voice quivers. Waving her hand in front of her face to clear the air, she moves deeper into the house, glass crunching under her steps. When she passes the entrance to the kitchen, she covers her mouth to keep from screaming.

  There, in the middle of the living room is a brown sedan, its front end smashed so the hood is crumpled and the hissing engine is exposed, emitting white smoke. Behind the car is a hole exposing the watery blue sky. Pinned under the car is Sue’s unmoving body.

  Safia wants to run to her, but instead her eyes dart to the driver’s side of the sedan and stop her with a jolt of terror. He is there. He has lifted his head and is now staring directly at her with a trail of blood running from his dark hair, creating a path between his right eye and nose. His eyes are full of rage. She sees his shoulder jerking and realizes he’s trying to get the door open. Panicking, she rushes passed the car and runs down the hall.

  “Olivia,” she is half crying, trying to breathe, trying to get her body to stop moving in slow motion. She reaches a door on the right and sees Olivia standing in the middle of a room cluttered with clothes and dolls, three of the four walls plastered in posters. She is clutching her bear, the bag of clothes she was packing lay open at her feet.

  “Come on,” Safia says, making her arms reach out for the girl. She hears another car come to a stop right outside the window. “Oh god,” she cries, running over she tries to lift Olivia up. Tears are blinding her, her body is shaking too bad to find the strength. Instead she grabs her hand tightly and tries pulling her from the room. “We have to go, Olivia.” She tries to make her voice stern but it is unsteady and small. “Please,” she implores. The child’s eyes are full of fear. Paralyzing fear. One word stops Safia in her tracks.

  “Mommy?”

  A flash of Sue crushed under the tire makes light explode in front of her eyes. The room begins to spin. Grief at the speed of light. Olivia’s focus shifts to the door behind her. Safia is afraid to look. She knows the man is there. Instead she looks into Olivia’s eyes and finds the resolve she needs. She will not give this child up without a fight. The adrenalin makes her heart and temples pulse. She is furious. Protective. She wants to rip this guy’s head off. She stands up and turns, her fists balled up and ready to hit something. She blinks.

  Anders is moving toward her, pressing something in her palm. His face is tight and calm. She is having a hard time switching gears. No time for questions. He has swept Olivia into his arms. He is saying something, she knows, because she is watching his mouth move.

  “Safia!”The shout shakes her, and his powerful hands shake her. She can hear again. “Let’s go.”

  Olivia’s arms encircle his neck, her face buried. Safia feels him pulling her back through the nightmare in the living room, the pressure of his grip growing more urgent, his speed increasing as they pass through the smoke.

  Don’t look. Don’t look.

  They emerge outside and he gently sets Olivia down on the back porch. He lifts Safia’s hand and taps the keys.

  “Go back through the woods the way you came. I left the rental car just beyond the first bend. Stay in a hotel tonight and get on the plane tomorrow just like we planned. Got it?”

  Safia nods. Her insides quiver. She concentrates on trying to breathe.

  “What about mommy?”

  They both stare at Olivia. There are no answers.

  “Go,” he meets her eyes one more time and then turns and disappears back in the house. She grabs Olivia’s hand.

  “Run, Olivia!”

  And they do. They run without looking back, without caring about the branches stinging their legs or tangling in their hair. They run until they emerge from the woods and fall out onto the road. Both of them gasping for air. “This way.”

  Safia can hear a helicopter in the distance. She can also hear the commotion down the road; the approaching sirens. They are stumbling, running in the other direction. Around the bend, just like he said, is the silver sedan. She is struggling to get her trembling hand to maneuver the key when she realizes the door is open. She swings it wide, helps Olivia buckle in, then slides herself in and starts it up. It sticks in the grass and clay for a moment. She guns it and feels it lurch. They are free.

  She just drives.

  Chapter 22

  The hotel room is cool and musty. Olivia sleeps restlessly on top of the scratchy flowered comforter. Safia strokes her head. She outlines the patches of courser hair next to the softer ones, then runs a light finger over her still pink scar. This isn’t the important scar, she knows. The important one is inside, in the shape of her mother. Does she understand the permanence of death? She has to stifle a sudden cry that has lurched into her throat at the thought of the text message she received from Anders two hours ago. Three simple words: Sue is dead.

  She had spent twenty minutes in the bathroom, sobbing into fistfuls of toilet paper to muffle the noise. Then, she had emerged, washed her face and let numbness wash over her so she could sit in front of Olivia on the bed, look into those beautiful multicolored eyes and tell her that she would never see her mother again.

  “Can she hear me from heaven?” is what she had asked, after staring back at her without blinking for a long time.

  “I think so,” Safia had lied. She had to give this child something. She had to give her hope. “I think it’s like a two way mirror. She can hear you, you just can’t hear her.”

  “Oh,” Olivia had said.

  That was the last word she has heard her speak. An eerie silence seems to have settled over the young girl. Not a calm, but more like an emptiness. She will have to find her own way through the tangles of uncertainty and pain, Safia realizes. They all will. It is a journey that must be endured alone, no matter how many people surround you.

  Grief and guilt together have scooped out her insides and filled them with a cold darkness. Sue was right. She would still be alive if Safia hadn’t discovered the truth about Olivia. How will she ever find peace with that?

  She awakens to knives twisting in her skull. Reflexively, she reaches over and finds Olivia, her eyes squeezed tight. Her fingers touch the warmth of an arm. She hears Olivia moan and move in the bed.

  “Shhh, it’s all right,” she whispers. Her own words echo like a bowling ball being tossed around within her skull. She concentrates on filling her lungs with air, then releasing that air slowly back out into the room. She presses her palms hard into her eyes to keep out light. Ligh
t is exploding, swimming in the darkness. She rolls over, stifles a cry as she leans her head over the side of the bed and vomits.

  She endures the rest of night, sleeping in fits and starts. It is a series of vomiting, listening to Olivia’s whimpers, the steady hum of the air conditioning unit, the occasional car door shutting outside, more vomiting, more whimpering. She dreads morning and the light and reality it will bring.

  “Olivia?” she forces herself to roll over, the nausea still with her. She realizes her voice is a dry whisper and clears it to try again. “Olivia?” The toilet flushes and the bathroom door opens. Safia breathes and relaxes her body. She watches as the girl moves toward her, her eyes cast down to the floor. “Stop, honey.” She knew there was a mess on the floor. “Can you bring me some towels from the bathroom?”

  Olivia nods and silently turns around. She returns a minute later with an armful of worn white towels.

  “Good, bring them around the other side.”

  Olivia climbs up onto the bed. Safia takes the towels from her without sitting up, unfolds them and lays them out across the contents of her stomach that have dried into the carpet. She will have to leave extra money for cleanup. That is the least of her worries. How is she going to get Olivia on the plane when she can barely move? She will have to call Anders.

  He arrives within the hour and Olivia silently climbs down to open the door for him.Safia winces at the sunlight that pours in the door with him.

  “Here,” he says softly. “I’ve thrown some stuff in a bag from your house.” His eyes are moving over her face, examining her. She suddenly feels self conscious through the foggy confusion. She stares at the small black bag stuffed with her things.

  “How did you get in?” She waves. “Never mind. Can you help me into the shower?” He nods. She turns her head slowly to Olivia, feeling the pain shift like water in a moving vessel. She winces again. “Do you want to watch cartoons?” Olivia shakes her head “no.” She is holding her bear, staring at the bedspread. “All right. I’m going to take a shower and then we’re going to go take a plane ride. You’re going to love…” she almost said “my mom” but didn’t want to remind Olivia of the word mom. Instead she finished with, “the beach.”

  Anders scoops her up and carries her to the bathroom. She bites the inside of her lip as he sits her gently down on the toilet seat and turns on the shower.

  “Turn off the light, please.”

  He flicks it off, retrieves her bag and sets it on the floor in the corner. “Do you need help getting in?”

  “I think I can manage.” Though, she’s not so sure.

  “All right. Yell if you need any help.” He leans down in front of her for a moment and runs his thumb across a large purple bruise on her bare knee. Their eyes meet in the dim light. He tries to smile, but he seems out of practice, distant. “Your toothbrush is in the bag, too.”

  “Thanks.” She wants to smile back, but it would hurt—for more than one reason. He presses his forehead lightly against hers for a moment and then gets up quickly, closing the door behind him.

  In the isolation of the shower, with the steam filling her lungs and the blood pounding in her head like a jackhammer, she breaks down. One palm presses against the tile to hold herself up, and one palm presses into the middle of her forehead to try and steady the pain.

  “What now? Where will Olivia go now?” she whispers through the tears.

  The steady drumming of the water is her only answer. There are no answers, no certainties.

  Chapter 23

  The small private plane touches down softly at the Ocracoke Island Airport. Safia squints as she opens her eyes to the bright coastal sun. Relief washes over her. The worst of her headache seems to have subsided back into whatever layer of hell it had crawled from. She smiles at Olivia, who had been clutching her hand from the seat next to her the entire trip, even while Safia slept.

  “We’re here, Olivia.”

  The engines roar one last time as the plane coasts to a stop. Olivia’s eyes are wide as she stares out the window.

  “Unbuckle your seatbelt, honey.” Safia shows her by unbuckling her own. “Okay, come on.” Olivia grabs her tighter. Safia has to maneuver after Anders down the narrow aisle and down the steps with Olivia still attached to her hand.

  “Hey, Dad,” Safia gives her father a one armed hug, feeling more weight slough off her shoulders.

  “Hey, Princess.” He scans her face and she notices new wrinkles gathered at the corners of his always bright eyes.

  “Stop worrying,” she whispers into his ear and then kisses his cheek. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Olivia Barnes.”

  Jack Raine kneels down in front of Olivia, who is pressed against Safia like a wet leaf. She sees his knowing eyes scan her briefly, sadly. “Nice to meet you, Olivia.” He holds out his hand. She doesn’t take it. “That’s a nice bear you’ve got there. Has your bear ever been to the beach?”

  Olivia looks up at Safia.

  “It’s okay, Olivia.”

  Olivia looks back at Jack and shakes her head “no.”

  “Well, good. A new adventure then.” Jack stands back up as Anders approaches with their few bags.

  “Anders Grey.” He holds out a free hand, balancing a bag on his shoulder.

  “Thanks for getting them here safely,” Jack nods. “All right, let’s get going.” He gives Safia’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and leads them out to the waiting car.

  They ride in silence down Hwy 12, Safia stroking Olivia’s arm absentmindedly as she stares out the window at the long stretch of dunes, the flat open space and the cloudless sky. Jack steers the car expertly onto Old Beach Rd and Safia takes a deep breath in. The familiarity of the tiny island is soothing. Even though it was only summers as a child spent here for the most part, driving through the quaint streets always feels like coming home.

  She catches her dad glancing at her in the rear view mirror and she makes a face that tells him to stop worrying, though she knows it won’t make a difference. He will worry. They pull into the brick driveway of a white cottage with freshly painted green trim.

  “Home sweet home,” Jack says, a well worn groove in his vocabulary. Anders helps him get the bags out of the trunk. Safia helps Olivia out of the car, up the short walkway and climbs the three planks of steps to the porch with Olivia clutching the whole of her arm. There is a metal plaque, with ornate black iron scrolling, hanging to the left of the door. It says, “Sylvia Banner Cottage. The winter home of famed writer Sylvia Banner from 1969-1978.” She smiles privately. Her mother’s attachment to this woman, to this cottage borders on obsession.

  “Mom?” Safia calls from the doorway. More familiarity: wood floors, crystal light catchers in the window, the scent of cinnamon and fresh bread.

  Her mom emerges from the kitchen, a small elegant figure with the same concern as her dad brewing in her dark eyes. “Hello, sweetheart.” She places a palm on Safia’s cheek and kisses her. It is bittersweet. She wants to hold her mother tight, to thank the stars that she still can. Her mother is kneeling down to greet Olivia. “And who do we have here?”

  Safia feels Olivia’s grip on her tighten. This breaks her heart. Fear is now her ruling emotion. “Mom, this is Olivia Barnes and her bear, Candy.”

  “Well, Miss Olivia Barnes, I’ve got some fresh bread and honey in the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

  Olivia shakes her head, ‘no’.

  “Hmmm. Well, is Candy hungry?”

  Olivia shakes her head, ‘yes’. Safia feels some unknown relief unfurl in her chest.

  “Good, come on then.”

  They follow her mother into the small kitchen and Safia helps Olivia up into a chair. Her mother winks at her as she places a plate of warm bread in front of Olivia, butters it and squeezes some honey on it in the shape of a happy face. Olivia glances up at this and manages a weak smile as she studies her mom’s face.

  Safia can hear her dad and Anders coming in the front door. She watches
as Olivia holds a piece of the soft bread to her bear’s mouth and then pushes it slowly into her own. She wants to cry. To hold her. To protect her. To bring her mother back. She can do none of these things.

  “Olivia, I’m going to go out and help Anders. Will you be all right here for a minute?”

  She nods slowly. Her eyes are still widened, shocked.

  “Okay. Be right back.”

  “Anders, this is my mother, Sarah. Mom, this is Anders Grey.”

  “Pleasure.” He shakes her hand. “Desert Raine is my all time favorite album.”

  “Really?” She crosses her arms. “What do you like about it?”

  “What do I like about it?” he smiles cryptically at Safia. He’s never smiled at her that way, her heart skips a beat and she feels herself blush. “Well, if I had to name something, I’d say it’s because each song moves you into a new experience…a hurricane, the feeling of falling, being wrapped in a blanket of something hot and the color white.I always feel like I’m going on a journey to a place that is both familiar and new to me.” He nods. “You can tell your music is sacred to you. Listening to you is like listening to someone pray.”

  “Wow.” Her mother seems speechless and then finally she adds, “I guess you can stay, then.” She laughs easily. “Well, let’s get you settled in.” Safia throws him a puzzled glance as her mother leads them through a door in the back room and into a hallway. She didn’t even know Anders knew who her mother was. Is she always going to be surprised by him, she wonders.

  “We’ve added a guest wing on the back of the house,” she was saying as she opened a door on the right. “You can stay in this room.”

  Anders nods, steps in and tosses one of the bags on the bed. He emerges and follows them into the room on the left. It was also small but had a king bed with a pale yellow comforter.

  “Olivia can stay in here.”

  “We weren’t able to grab any of her things.” She feels the pain swell at this. Funny how it comes out of nowhere. A seismic wave of fresh grief. She feels herself go pale.