Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels) (32 page)

“I just wanted you to know that I didn’t tell Sky.”

I looked back up at him. “You didn’t?” This was like a confession of conspiracy. Was Stone telling the truth?

He shook his head. “I noticed it when I opened the gate. I don’t know why, but I just picked it up, then shoved it inside my jacket while I was still bent over. I never showed it to Sky.”

“What did you do with it?”

“I peeked inside to see who it was addressed to, then I dropped it into the mail slot while Sky was checking his post office box.”

“Did you see that it had no postage on it?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry I couldn’t help you out there. But you know I don’t have any money to buy stamps. And even if I did, I’m sure Sky would’ve caught me.”

I peered into Stone’s eyes. I hadn’t really talked with him in ages, it seemed, probably not since last fall when he and Sunshine (no, it would be Sara now) had been forced to marry. I wondered if I could really trust him with this. Was he really telling me the truth? Or had Sky sent him up here to conduct some sort of search-and-destroy game?

He stepped closer to me, then lowering his voice asked, “Do you want out of here, Rainbow?”

My eyes flashed again, this time at the sound of that name. “Rainbow is dead,” I announced in a flat voice, knowing full well that I had stepped over some sort of imaginary line here. There would be no going back now.

He looked slightly confused.

“My name is Cassandra.”

A look of understanding crossed his face. “Okay. But do you want out of here, Cass?”

I swallowed hard, then nodded.

“I thought so.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well, I suspected as much. Then when I saw the name on the envelope, I guessed it must be Joey’s mom, and I know he’s a good friend of yours, and I remember last winter when he came to get you.”

I bit into my lip and closed my eyes tightly.

“And now you wish you’d gone while you had the chance?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I just want to warn you, Rain—” he stopped himself, then lowering his voice again, continued. “Cassandra… Sky is getting pretty paranoid about anyone leaving the farm. He’s afraid that if anyone defects they’ll turn him in to the authorities and this whole place will come crashing down around his ears.”

“I wouldn’t do—”

He raised his hands. “It doesn’t matter. If Sky thinks it’s true, then—”

“It’s true,” I finished for him.

“Yeah. And so I’m warning you, be real careful. Play your hand close to your chest. If you’ve got some kind of plan, don’t tell anyone—not even Breeze.”

“But what about you, Stone?”

He smiled. “You can call me Skip.”

“Do you want out?”

He nodded. “But I’m in a better position than you. I could leave almost anytime I like. I could’ve left today. I could’ve just hopped out of the van and walked off.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe it’s because you know you’re free to go.”

He shrugged again. “Kind of free. But not completely. I mean, I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t have any money. I don’t even have a high school diploma. I doubt if my parents will help me. They were pretty messed up when I left. I’m just not sure what I’d do or where I’d go.”

I looked into his eyes. “But, Skip, there’s a whole world out there. I’ll bet if we stuck together we could figure something out that’d be a whole lot better than this. I’d be happy to get a job in a restaurant cooking or washing dishes or anything. And you’re really good with the carpentry stuff, you could probably get hired doing something like that. I’ll bet we’d be okay.” I could hear the pleading in my voice. “We could do it together.”

He looked hopeful. “You really think so?”

“Yes, Skip, I really do. If you can help get me out of here, I’ll do everything I can to make sure we make it out there. I promise.”

He smiled. “Well, if anyone could do it, I’m sure it would be you.”

“Can you really get us out?”

“Let me do some thinking about this. In the meantime, you better start acting normal again so no one suspects anything. The worst that can happen is that Sky starts suspecting us of wanting out. Then we’d really be in trouble.”

“Right. That makes sense.” I smiled up at him. “Thanks, Skip.”

“Just don’t call me that out there.” He opened the door and glanced down the hallway, then quickly slipped out. I finished up the food on my plate, then turned off the light (not wanting to face the questions of my roommate) and for the first time in a long time I went to bed with a tiny glimmer of hope in my heart.

Skip and I didn’t speak again for nearly a week. But true to my word, I acted just like normal—cheerful in fact (and that wasn’t an act because I felt more hopeful than ever). Even Venus commented on my changed demeanor and I told her that it was probably simply because spring was here and that always made me happy. This answer seemed to suit her just fine and she even suggested “we” try out a new recipe for spring asparagus soup, which didn’t even turn out too badly either.

When Skip finally approached me, it was in public. In fact, Sky was only about ten feet away. It was in the early evening, shortly after dinner. “Hi, Rainbow,” he said with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about you lately.”

I immediately grew flustered, wondering what he was doing. Why was he blowing our cover like this? I could feel Sky’s eyes upon me and I knew it wasn’t good. Still, I forced a smile to my lips. “What kind of thinking?” I asked, hoping I sounded normal, although by then I hardly knew what normal sounded like anymore.

“I wondered if you’d like to take an evening stroll with me?”

I glanced nervously over toward Sky and I knew without a doubt that he was watching us, and then it seemed as if he nodded just slightly—as if giving his blessing. Without showing too much surprise I turned back to Skip. “Okay, why not.”

After we were outside, in the safe privacy of the night, Skip quickly explained his plan. “I’ve been telling Sky that I’m interested in you, saying that I’m lonely after losing Sunshine. Today I asked him if we could get married.”

“Get married?”
I tried not to raise my voice. But this was not what I’d intended.

“I don’t mean for real, Rainbow—I mean Cass. I just thought we could pretend to be married. That is unless you want to—”

“I’m not looking to get married right now.”

He chuckled. “Well then, neither am I. But I thought if we pretended to be married, it would be easier to get you out of here. We could probably get away most easily at night. I have a couple of ideas, but I won’t go into all that just now.”

“Okay, I think I get it, and I can see how that would make it easier. But, honestly, Skip, as much as I like you, I’m just not ready to get married for real right now.”

He raised up his hands defensively. “Believe me, I won’t force anything on you. I already know what it’s like to be hitched with someone who doesn’t love you. Sunshine was miserable. In fact, we both were. But despite everything we remained friends. She even invited me to run away with her.”

“So you knew she was going?”

He nodded. “But for some reason I wasn’t ready to leave just then. Although I’m still not sure why I wanted to stick around.”

“Probably because you never felt as trapped as we did.”

“Maybe.” He started walking us back toward the house now. “We don’t want to be gone too long. Don’t want to give anyone reason to accuse us of anything.”

“Good thinking.”

“Oh, by the way, I think Sky has plans for you for himself. He suggested that if you and I got married, that it would improve his relationship with you, and I think we both know what that means.”

I groaned. “Then we better not get married until we’re ready to get out of here. I don’t want to take any chances with Sky.”

“I don’t think we’ll have much say about the date. Sky, as usual, said that he thinks sooner is better. So if I come back tonight and tell him you said yes, you can expect that we’ll be hitched within a week or so.”

“And that means we’ll be out of here shortly thereafter?”

He nodded.

By now we were within the light of the front porch and I suspected we were being watched. I stuck out my hand and shook his, as if we were just sealing the deal.

“A handshake instead of a kiss?” he teased.

“Under the circumstances, I think it’s more believable, don’t you?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

And so it was I became “officially” engaged.

Twenty-four

W
hat little girl doesn’t dream
of becoming a beautiful bride someday? And I suppose I am no different.

My first “wedding” took place on a perfect day toward the end of May, with a few fluffy white clouds wafting over a powder blue sky. A gentle breeze caressed the warm afternoon air, and everyone from the Funny Farm (all of us looking uncannily like circus freaks) gathered together beneath the green canopy of the old oak tree to witness the “blessed” event.

The bride (being me) wore a somewhat tattered patchwork skirt of many clown-like colors (my preference over my everyday prairie dress of drab blue calico). And into the waistband of my bright skirt I had tucked a threadbare, off-white, lace-trimmed blouse that had seen better days (a castoff from one of the newer sisters). My feet, as usual, were bare and dirty. But I had unbraided and vigorously brushed my hair, allowing it to fall freely down my back. My black tresses (which I believed to be my best asset) now reached well below my waist and were quite thick. And I’d taken the time to weave daisies, buttercups, and purple asters into a small braid that I wrapped around my head like a crown.

The shaggy and bearded groom wore faded bell-bottom jeans that were well frayed at the hems and an old chambray work shirt that had been mended many times over. His feet were also bare and dirty. I’m sure we must’ve made quite a pair.

Naturally, Sky officiated the ceremony. He wore a fine-looking homespun shirt of white linen and loose-fitting drawstring pants, also of linen. And, as usual, his feet were shod in a pair of heavy brown leather sandals (and I think he fancied himself to look a bit like Jesus that day). Sky didn’t always dress this nicely for weddings, but maybe he thought this one was special. Perhaps it was simply because the bride had not yet slept in his bed—or any man’s, for that matter. I’m sure that alone made him feel quite pleased as he stood before us and recited the words (his own poetic version of wedding vows).

Sky looked directly into my eyes with an intensity that actually brought a lump to my throat, and I briefly wondered if he didn’t imagine that he was the groom, the one marrying me, and perhaps he considered Stone (Skip) to be only the best man. After what seemed an exceedingly long ceremony, and to my great relief, Sky finally pronounced us husband and wife, and everyone cheered with enthusiasm (or so it seemed).

As usual, no cake or punch or photos or reception followed, but I did get out of dinner detail that night, and I suspect everyone else used this “blessed occasion” as another good excuse to go get stoned. Dinner that evening was prepared by a couple of the newer sisters and was served rather late, but no one seemed to notice or even mind much, just another sign of the changing climate around the Funny Farm.

I must say it was nice not to be stuck in the kitchen, and I almost wondered if my life on the farm might’ve gone differently if I hadn’t been subjected to all that exhausting kitchen work day in and day out. Sitting in the dining room and eating food prepared by others wasn’t so bad. Perhaps this was just one of the reasons that everyone else seemed so content to be cooped up on the farm like that. Well, that and the pot, of course.

And, okay, I’ll admit it, I think some of the people may have been honestly searching—maybe it was for God or spirituality or maybe just family or an escape from the modern day rat race of the exterior world. Or perhaps like for me it was all of those things.

Anyway I saw things in a slightly different, more gracious, light that night—if only for a moment. And it didn’t hurt that I thought this might possibly be the last time I’d dine with these people. Or at least I hoped so.

Still it bothered me that all throughout dinner, and then during our evening devotions time, Sky seemed to have his eyes on me. And I honestly don’t think I was imagining this, either. I felt certain that he must’ve already been counting the days (or was it hours?) until I would become another one of his little conquests. I had already told Skip that I was ready to leave at the first possible moment, and I secretly hoped it might even be tonight.

After devotions, Skip and I slipped out into the night and took a stroll around the grounds. We were hoping to appear romantic to any casual observers, but it was actually his way of showing me “the plan.” He had discovered which generator fed electricity to the fence, but he wouldn’t shut it down until the last possible minute. Prior to that, he explained, he would feed the guard dogs a specially prepared dinner of leftovers mixed heavily with a ground-up mixture of marijuana.