Stowaway: Chapter 2

It is so nice to be with Jess and Coby again. I thought they might change once they were married, but they really haven’t. They have such a peaceful house, and they respect each other. It’s like I can finally breathe. I can finally relax, and I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder…at least not for a couple weeks.

Jess and Coby’s house was such a great place to be. They had given Libby and Emily the whole downstairs as their “apartment.” The whole area was decorated to Coby’s taste with aqua walls, Olympic swimming posters of Mark Spitz and Michael Phelps. All the chairs were wicker, the deep kind that you could just sink into, and different shades of blue. There were sturdy, wooden end tables, and lamps that cast patterns onto the walls. The coffee table was a treasure chest, and there were oars in the corner.

The bathroom looked to be decorated with help from Christian. It had a Finding Nemo bathmat, shower curtain, towels, washcloths and toothbrush holder. There was even a light switch cover, and a border of Nemo and Dory wallpaper. The bottom half of the wall was painted darker blue to suggest ocean water. The top half was a lighter, sky blue.

Jess looked to have had her own way in the guest room though. It was beautifully decorated with natural colors. A tan bedspread, accented with a green and purple throw pillow. There were green and blue candles in glass votives on a worn-wooden shelf. Some were hanging from hooks and one was a hurricane lamp. There was a large, vintage-looking dial clock on the bedside table. All the bedroom furniture was whitewashed, and on their vanity, there were flowers - magnolia in a vase and a green chrysanthemum arrangement. The window had a roller blind with a wooden sill, and a wooden branch in a vase. There was one lighthouse print on the wall, and a soft blue throw blanket on a chair in the corner. When Libby had first seen it, her eyes had filled with tears.

Her phone lit up with an incoming text message and she grabbed it. She knew from the series of numbers that it was an online status update from one of her friends. Libby flipped it open, doing her best not to disturb Emily who was sleeping soundly for the first time that Libby could recall.

Walking out into the family room, Libby flipped open her phone and read:

William Wright: Hey friends and family: Everybody tune into channel 5 tomorrow night at 10/9c to see…ME!

Rolling her eyes, Libby figured she’d better respond to his text messages. He’d sent one every half-hour, asking where they were, and when they were coming home.

To: Liam
We’re fine. Made it to VT.

Then, Libby buried her phone in the cushions of the porch-swing-style couch and tried to enjoy the solitude. What she needed to do was paint. She hadn’t been able to since before they left more than two days before. Quietly, she stole back into the guest bedroom, with its one big bed, got her art supplies, and some Halloween candy, and made her way out the back door. She thought about visiting Nate and Cary, but decided against it when she saw all their lights off. However, a little building that looked like a shed caught her eye.

She pushed open the door, shivering a little under her winter coat and layers of clothes. This wasn’t a shed. It was a workshop. Libby knew that Coby worked as Stowe’s handyman now, and thought it was probably the cutest job ever. The shop was surprisingly cozy, with a light and a space heater and plenty of space to paint. She didn’t think Coby would mind her painting there.

Within minutes, Libby had the heater running and her supplies all set up in the middle of the small room. She wanted to throw paint angrily on the canvas, but didn’t want to mess up the workshop. Therefore, she settled for splattering it like little fireworks all over the page.

She would call this one: Independence.

--

Liam was really bummed. Instead of going to church and leading a game night like the one he usually had, to give the neighborhood kids somewhere safe to come, he had stayed home. He wanted to be there, with his phone on, just in case Libby called him back. He had never handed out candy himself before, so he decided to make it fun. He dressed up as a yellow and black striped leaf, even painting his face. He even attached little notes to the Smarties and tootsie pops. They said, “Be SMART! Come to church!” and “Don’t be SUCKERED! Come to church!”

He even had plans to ask each little kid and teenager, “Do you beleaf in Jesus?” But no one had come. Not one kid had shown up at his door. To make matters worse, Libby hadn’t even bothered to call, and he had left her a lot of messages. He was beginning to get worried, until around one o’clock in the morning, when he finally got a text from her that only said they were fine and had made it to Vermont.

How was that supposed to ease his mind? The way his luck had been lately, he was going to end up all alone, because Libby and Emily were going to decide to live there or something. Then what would he do?

Sighing, he walked down the hall and looked into Libby’s empty room. It used to be Nathaniel’s. He turned the mattress before Libby moved in there, since he had already taken Jonathan’s old room and made it into his office. Liam walked inside and flipped through the textbooks she had left behind. He picked up the pictures on her nightstand and stared at them. He searched in all her usual hiding places for her journal, but couldn’t find it. It wasn’t wrong. Privacy was earned. After what Morgan pulled a couple years ago, Liam had a right to be suspicious of everyone in his life. He had trusted Morgan with his whole heart, and she had deceived him, gone behind his back and started using drugs to cope instead of turning to God like she should have. He hadn’t seen it coming at all. Therefore, this time, he was going to be prepared. Just in case.

Plus, tomorrow was the anniversary, and that made him nervous. He didn’t want Libby to go away in order to take her own life. Morgan had done that, too. It didn’t escape him this time that Libby was getting thinner, that she was depressed, and that she was pulling away from him. It was his job as her older brother to look out for her, so he went through her things. Nevertheless, he also let her go with Emily on their little missionary road trip. Liam had never heard of that before, and he was sure it didn’t actually exist, but if it would help Libby get back on track with school, he decided it was worth it.

That left him home in High City with only a few of the original Bible study members. Aaron, Bryan and Legend. None of them spoke to him. But then again, Liam was sure they didn’t speak to anyone else either. He poured himself into work at the Boys and Girls Club and church. He was somewhere every night. Every day, someone called him, and wanted something from him. He’d gotten used to putting himself last, but he did need his alone time. Therefore, he guessed this was God’s way of giving it to him.

That night, he prayed to put off sleep, and when he did, he dreamed of losing Libby repeatedly, in countless ways. He woke at five o’clock and bundled up to go on a prayer walk and clear his mind.

At least the day was finally here. He counted down the hours until it would be over; knowing that no one would ask him how he was, but everyone would be asking the victims how they were. It wasn’t fair, but it was life.

--

Jess and Coby were quiet in the morning. They woke earlier than usual, and just lay in bed together. They were going to work like it was any other day, but it wasn’t like any other day and they both knew it. The anniversary affected the whole family in different ways.

Coby laid a hand on Jess’s stomach. “Days like this, I’m not sure we’re right, bringing another kid into the world.”

Jess turned to face him, narrowing her eyes. “AJ’s gonna be able to hear us soon, and I don’t want our baby hearing that kind of talk.”

“AJ? I thought it was LP?” Coby said, confused.

“No, it’s AJ. Adam Jacob or Anna Jaclyn,” Jess said firmly.

“My name?” Coby managed, shocked.

“Of course, your name. I gave Christian my name as his middle name. You should give this baby yours.” Jess gave Coby a kiss. “Are you still gonna love me when I’m huge?”

“Hey, that hugeness is going to be AJ, and I’m going to be praying he gets big,” Coby smiled. “Anyway, I gotta get Christian up for school. Sleep more if you want. Love you both. I’ll come in and say bye before I leave.” Coby pulled on jeans and paused, thinking. It’ll be cute to have a CJ and an AJ. Good thought.”

“What do you mean, ‘he’?” Jess hissed.

“Well you picked the names. Don’t I get to pick the sex?” he whispered, shooting her a beguiling smile.

“The only thing you get to pick is whether or not to leave when I’m screaming how you did this to me on delivery day,” Jess said seriously, her voice hushed.

“First? I will never leave you, and second, can we tell people soon? This secret is damn hard to keep.”

“Yeah, but not today. They’re sad today,” Jess decided. “Are you all right?”

“No, but I will be tonight when I come home to you and Christian, and everything’s the way it’s supposed to be.” Coby admitted. “Love you. I have to go. Christian’s gonna be late to school otherwise.”

“I’ll get up and help you,” Jess resolved.

Christian was in a bad mood in the morning on most days, but today, he should have earned a prize for his mood. He had a headache. He had a stomachache. He had a triple-stomachache.

“It’s probably from too much Halloween candy,” Jess offered. She was busy at the counter, packing his lunch and his snack.

“No, it’s not, Mom!” Christian exclaimed, burying his head in his arms.

“Hey. You know I’m going to be there to pick you up at 2:30 just like always?” Coby asked. “Come on now. Sit up and eat your cereal.”

“I want Mom to get me…”

Jess sighed. Christian sounded dangerously close to crying, which was becoming something that he didn’t like to show.

“Christian, I’ll be home the same time I always am. Not late. I promise.”

Carefully, Jess wrote the one thing that was guaranteed to make her son smile on a hard day. He liked cheesy jokes, and she was always on a mission to find more. Since they both liked rap music, this joke was perfect.

Q: What is a mummy’s favorite type of music?
A: Rap music.

I.L.Y.T.T.M.A.B.
Mom

The last part was their “secret code.” I Love You To The Moon And Back. Christian knew what it meant and he could brag about having a secret code to his friends rather than be teased because she left a note that overtly said, “I love you.”

“Whatever. You don’t know that for sure…” Christian said in a sulky tone of voice that bordered on disrespect.

“Christian,” Jess warned, coming over to join him at the table.

“It’s a hard day for me, too,” Coby offered. “And Mom and Emily and Libby and all of us.”

“Yeah, but none of you guys got forgot about,” he said, his eyes accusatory.

“No, you’re right,” Coby conceded. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue that being shot was worse than being forgotten, because to Christian, being forgotten was worse. “But we all remember feeling sad and scared and angry that day, just like you did, all right? We need to be good to each other every day, but especially the hard ones.”

“But you’re not having a hard day,” Christian objected softly as Jess listened.

“Actually, I am. This day is hard for me. Because I remember everything that happened and how scared and angry I was about what was happening.”

“Well, I’m mad enough to punch something!” Christian announced, taking a bite of his Count Chocula.

“Okay, but we don’t punch people, do we?” Coby asked rhetorically.

“Dad, come on. I didn’t say I was going to punch something. I just said I was mad enough to.”

“Come on and grab your coat and boots. I’ve got something for you to do.” Coby decided, grabbing his own coat off the back of a kitchen chair.

He had plenty of old stuff in his workshop that CJ could smash with a hammer. In their experience, it was disastrous to send him to school angry, so anything they could come up with to help him deal with it was helpful.

Together, they stepped into the workshop, leaving Jess in the kitchen. She was good about letting Coby have time with Christian when they needed it.

“So, what are we fixing? Holy cow!” Look at this painting! Can I paint?” he asked.

“I think this is Libby’s,” Coby said, after some examination. She had a style all her own. It wasn’t contained or careful, yet he got the distinct impression that she had been holding back on this piece. Fireworks dotted a black landscape, and the word independence was swirled into the paint below them.

“No, I actually have some stuff for you to break. Here.” Coby continued, searching out the bags of junk that he had brought from home. Stuff that he didn’t care about, and was better off destroyed.

“Awesome!” Christian exclaimed.

“Put your gloves and safety goggles and grab a hammer.” Coby directed. Once his son was suited up in the appropriate safety gear, Coby stood back, and let him go. Steering him clear of Libby’s painting and the other important stuff.

When Christian was done smashing and screaming, and using words that Coby was pretty sure Jess wouldn’t approve of, Coby sent him back to the house so he could finish getting ready for school. Once he was alone, Coby jotted down a quick note, and taped it to the base of Libby’s easel.

This is nice. Would you mind working with Christian maybe? Letting him paint with you or something? He’s having a hard time and I think it would help him out. He always enjoyed doing art stuff with you.
P.S. Do you think you could make anything with broken pieces of junk? It’s in that plastic bag. Be careful of jagged pieces. I let Christian smash them this morning.
- Coby

--

Nate rolled over and groaned. This was his least favorite day. It didn’t matter that he had taken the day off work, or that Cary would be here with him the whole time. This day was like a black hole of nothingness and it had the potential to knock him on his ass if he let it. He even forgot that he’d be hanging out with Cary all day when he told Morgan that he would hang out with her. But he had promised. Therefore, Nathaniel steeled himself and sat up, surprised to see Cary was already awake and moving.

Nate didn’t shower; he just walked to the kitchen in his pajama pants and tee shirt, knowing that he still had streaks of parrot makeup on his face. It had probably stained the pillowcase but Nathaniel didn’t care.

“Morning.” Nate forced himself to say this, and not the first thing that popped into his head, which was that he wasn’t hungry and Cary should know that by now.

“Hey,” Cary greeted, abandoning the stove after turning down the burner that held the pan full of eggs and studied Nathaniel carefully before stepping forward and putting his arms around him.

“I’m not hungry, and I gotta see Morgan. I promised her,” Nate said, shuddering involuntarily in Cary’s embrace.

“Do you want to go to her or do you want her to come over?” Cary asked, guiding Nate gently to a chair. Then, like magic, Cary produced a single slice of French toast topped with peaches. “They’re not in season now, so sorry if it sucks.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “I don’t know. Jon’s there, too, and I wouldn’t want to leave him alone inviting her over here.” He took a tiny bite of the toast and found that he felt less nauseous, not more.

“You can go over there, I won’t feel bad. Do you want me to come with you, or do you want to hang out alone?” Cary asked. He pulled a second kitchen chair directly next to Nate and was busy eating his own plate of eggs and bacon.

“Alone. But it’s your day off. Are you sure you won’t feel bad?” Nate pressed.

Cary sent him a disarming smile. “Today isn’t about me. It’s about you and your friends taking care of each other, being wherever you’re needed, and it’s about me being wherever I’m needed.”

So Nate left Cary behind to clean up the breakfast, and Nate drove to Morgan and Jon’s, knocking softly on the door and inviting himself inside. He found Morgan on the couch, her Bible and Courage to Change devotional thing open in front of her. Nevertheless, she raised her head and looked at him.

Morgan had cut her hair in the style that she termed “Jennifer Lopez’s Enough look.” It was shorter, because her long hair freaked her out after Buddy fondled it. However, it was cute, flipped out in the back, and her natural brown color. Her eyes were probably Nate’s favorite feature. She made it no secret from the beginning that she was Hawaiian, at least partly. Her eyes were a warm brown, like some kind of fancy wood, and they were slightly slanted at the corners. She was dressed predictably in lots of layers of bright tank tops. He could see them peeking out of her robe. She wore jeans and tennis shoes, too, and Nate knew without asking that she had already been to a meeting. However, he didn’t ask, because it was a private thing.

“This is nice,” he complimented, sitting down beside her. “I didn’t know you had a robe like this.” It was deep purple and shiny with flowers on it.

Morgan smiled, lighting up her face. “It’s a kimono,” she corrected gently. “Basically like a robe, but the size and shape is a little different, and the craftsmanship is better, I think.”

“How’s Jonathan?” Nate wondered.

“Asleep. I called in to check on him and he didn’t answer, so I think I’ll just leave him alone and check on him later.”

They were quiet a while, just enjoying one another’s company, when there was another knock at the door. Morgan got up to answer it before they knocked again and the distant sound aggravated Jonathan.

Libby stood on her front step, her hair pulled back in a messy brown ponytail, her clear blue eyes heavy with secrets like Morgan used to carry. She was too skinny, but Morgan just opened her arms and invited Libby into them. Nathaniel soon followed and they stood in the open doorway, in an awkward three-way hug for a long time.

“Hoapili, you’re so thin. Are you okay?” Morgan asked, staring too intensely into Libby’s eyes because the younger looked away. “I’m sorry. Come in. I missed you so much! Where’s Em?”

“Hey! I love your hair! So cute! She’s checking out the Community Church. She thinks she wants to work there. Do lay counseling and help with the youth group,” Libby said. She somehow managed to sound optimistic and happy despite the horror that had been replaying in her mind since that morning.

It had been a hard morning. Only Morgan had looked at her and asked if she was okay in a way that sounded genuine. Liam always asked in a way that suggested Libby too had fallen into the drug culture, which wasn’t true. She just wasn’t hungry.

“I’ve got some chicken soup in the fridge. Homemade. It’s good, I promise. I’ll get you some tea, too.”

While Morgan got to work setting places at the table and microwaving the soup and tea, Nate and Libby visited quietly, showing each other Halloween pictures on their phones.

“You were such a gorgeous parrot. You should have come over!”

“I did come over! But it was before you got there! No wonder Christian didn’t stop by, you excited him too much.” Nate teased, smiling.

Libby found herself relaxing even more here. For some reason, being around Nathaniel and Morgan always made her feel okay. Because around them, she didn’t feel alone. They knew what it was like to be hurt - the way she was - and worse. They were all learning how to cope and winning the battles against their own darkness every day.

She gratefully took the soup and the tea when Morgan brought it over, joining them at the table. “Seems like I might also be employed as an unofficial art therapist. Coby left a note on my Independence painting this morning, saying that Christian might need to paint out his aggression. Coby also let him smash stuff with a hammer, it looks like, and so I’m already working on ideas for a mosaic.”

“That’s really cool,” Nate said, genuinely impressed. “Can I do anger-art with you, too? Or trauma-art? Or Nate-just-really-needs-to-do-art-with-his-best-friend art?”

“You can do any kind of art with me, any time. Morgan, you, too. It’s really helping me just to get stuff out that doesn’t get dealt with enough journaling or whatever.”

“Shit,” Morgan swore suddenly.

Nate and Libby turned to see her staring at the clock on the wall. The time was inching toward ten o’clock. Three years ago, at ten o’clock, Buddy had come in. Three years ago now, everything had started. Three seconds. Two. One.

Morgan bolted out of the chair and out the front door. She stood on her porch, taking deep breaths. She reminded herself that she was in Vermont, not Minnesota. That the man who hurt her was dead, and couldn’t hurt her anymore. But it didn’t do any good. She stood outside, clutching the railing and trying to still her thoughts again and again.

Then, suddenly, she wasn’t alone. Nathaniel was on one side and Libby filled the empty space on the other.

It had happened like this before, in the weeks after the attack. They had gathered at Coby’s apartment, the one he shared with Bryan and Aaron. There had been pizza, which was a trigger for all three, since Buddy smelled and tasted like pizza and coffee. Moreover, when Aaron unknowingly put on a pot to brew, it had sent all three of them outside. They had gone to Wendy’s, Morgan remembered, and had Frosties. She had also taken a few Vicodin that night, to take the edge off her anxiety, depression and PTSD.

There was no Vicodin now, though. No pills of any kind. No liquor. Just herself, God, and her friends to help get her through these horrible moments, when her body remembered being used and hurt in agonizing ways. It sucked, but Morgan had promised herself that she would do this. She would stay clean for herself. Even if she had to take it one second at a time. The only thing that got her through was the fact that she knew she could. She had gotten through last year, and she got through it in one piece. This year would be the same. And maybe, as more and more years went by, it would get easier.

“I don’t know what I’m doin’ here. How I landed in this space. But it’s a good place. And I don’t want to mess it up, make mistakes or say too much. Cause it’s a good place. You find it. You hold it. You feel its grace. These are words I want to say every hour of every day. These are words that say how good it feels to be here with you today. I hope it’s not too late…” Libby sang, remembering the words from Emily’s most-played song on her MP3 player. She didn’t usually sing, but this seemed appropriate. They all needed a distraction, and a more positive focus.

Morgan squeezed her hand, so Libby kept it up, singing the entire song.

At some point, Nathaniel danced away from them, spinning and bending and gracefully reaching as the snow fell around him.

It was second nature for Nate to dance, even though he had never taken a single class. He didn’t do it often. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to feel that free. To move to the words of a song, and interpret them the way his body begged him to, spinning, leaping and landing gently. Dancing made him feel like something good had broken loose inside him, and was taking over all the dirtiness he felt. So that, even if he didn’t feel clean, at least he felt lighter, with the snow falling on his face and crunching under his feet.

This, Morgan knew, was exactly what she had prayed for moments ago, as she rushed outside. Something else to listen to instead of the words that killed her inside. Beauty to focus on instead of the evil that had its way in the dark, forgotten study room, where no one had come to help until everything was over.

“Thanks,” she managed. “I needed that. Prayed for it, actually.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Libby insisted, linking her arm through Morgan’s, as Nathaniel made his way back onto the porch and into the house.

“Wanna make Madness dinner?” Libby asked. “Jess is at work today and so is Coby. Em’s busy and we don’t have money anyway…”

“Yeah, for sure,” Morgan nodded, her mind already working to come up with the perfect menu for their anniversary dinner. Not everybody might feel like celebrating, but Morgan felt sure that she and her friends should celebrate. They were all here to see this day, to be together again, and that was a blessing.

Nate poked his head outside. “It’s safe to come in,” he said quietly.

Morgan and Libby exchanged a look and walked in. Immediately, Morgan could see the clock on her microwave had been switched off and all the others had been unplugged and turned around.

“How are we going to know what time it is?” Libby asked, smiling at Nathaniel’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s okay. My cell has the time,” he said, giving their shoulders a squeeze. “Now, what are we making?”

“I think we should have a Luau. Jon will want to get up for that, especially if he smells what we’re cooking.” Morgan insisted. She got to work, pulling out various ingredients that she had in the freezer for such a time as this. Real pineapple, kiwi and a mango.

She assigned Libby to work on the Tropical Fruit Salad, and Nathaniel to the Luau Ham and Glazed Pineapple Snacks and herself to the Macadamia-Nut Crusted Chicken with Honey Mustard Dip.

“I hope no one has a nut allergy,” Nate commented skewering ham and pineapple chunks.

“No one does,” Libby said, sure of herself. “Liam asked that the first day of Bible study, remember? No one did.”

“What about Christian?” Morgan pressed.

“He used to eat peanut-butter on everything. He’ll be fine,” Libby reassured, waiting impatiently for her fruit to thaw.

“Hey, why don’t you go finish your soup, girl?” Morgan encouraged.

“I should, it’s actually really good. What’s in it? It tastes better than normal soup.” Libby observed.

“It’s Parmesan cheese. A whole rind, and then some extra, too. Jon’s mom brought it the last time she visited. She thinks we’re getting married soon and that our babies will look…” she stopped, to put finger-quotes around the next words, “handsome and exotic,” Morgan grimaced.

“Maybe when me and Cary get a baby, we’ll get you one,” Nate offered sweetly. “We’d rather adopt than go the surrogate route. Probably international. We’d give the sweet baby to you and Jon and keep the feisty one for us.”

Libby was busy imagining the pretty babies Nathaniel and Morgan would one day parent, and what countries they might come from when she stopped short.

“Wait. You said a rind is in here?!” Libby asked in an alarmed voice, inspecting her soup closer for anything that might be a rind. She didn’t know what it would look like, but assumed it was brown and ugly, lurking in the broth.

Nate rolled his eyes. “Lib, chill. It tastes good. Eat it.”

“But it’s a rind! What is that? I don’t think you’re supposed to eat those…” Libby persisted, sending concerned looks to Morgan.

“I ate it. I’m fine. Jon ate it, and he has a migraine, but he gets those every year. Just enjoy it, girl, I wouldn’t give you poisoned soup, I promise.”

So, Libby propped her feet up on a nearby chair and decided to do that. There was no point in not enjoying good food. Emily told her that a million times. Libby propped her feet up on a nearby chair and watched as Morgan and Nate bustled around the kitchen. She even convinced Morgan to get out of her robe, so that Libby could try it on, and it was so comfortable.

At that moment, Libby knew that she was meant to be right here. In this kitchen with these friends, preparing a meal. It was almost perfect.

However, the more she thought about it, perfect was over-rated.

Libby preferred almost perfect.

She preferred this.