Tragic Renewal (3 page)

For the first time in months Harper slept a full night’s sleep without chemical aid. A mind was free to wander the highway of possibilities and make plans for a new future. The next morning as sunlight peeped through the blinds and fell on her face a path became clear as she opened eyes to a brand new day. A decent night’s sleep was the deciding factor between wallowing and planning for a new future. Despondency would no longer own the real estate in a battered mind, the time had come for Harper to direct a life lived under another’s direction. The wheel now gripped in her hands driving toward possibilities instead of self-pity.

She hurried through a shower, combed and dried her hair, and tossed on stretchy clothes ready for a day of packing and cleaning. With a smile on her face she made her way to the apartment manager’s office.

Bobby greeted her when she came through the door. “Well, good morning Miss Harper. You look perky and ready to take on the world this morning.”

His happy attitude and refusal to acknowledge her depression annoyed her on earlier occasions. This morning she realized she’d been trying to bring other people down to her dark level rather than trying to boost herself to a better one. Feeling sorry for one’s self was a lot of work.

She returned his smile. Hers genuine for the first time since Scott announced Isabella was pregnant. “Good morning, Bobby, how are you today?”

Shock registered on his lined face, but not for long. His eyes lit up, happy to hear something other than sorrow dripping from her voice. “Well, well, Harper, I’m happy you’re in such a good mood. I’m doing amazing this morning. Every day I wake up is a great day. Cause you know at my age… you never know when the end will come.”

She nodded in agreement. “I have news for you.”

His silver eyebrows rose into a sharp peak of hair. “What is it young miss?”

“I hate to say I’ll be leaving this place. Since I’m month to month I know I must pay for the rest of this month even though today’s the first.”

Bobby typed on his computer and looked up at her. “Harper you’ve always paid on time and we’ve never had problems with you. When you moved in you paid first and last month’s rent, so you won’t owe us anything today. We’ll try to re-rent the apartment and if we can do that we’ll refund any funds that are left.”

In her hurried planning Harper had forgotten about paying extra rent up front. When she moved in her mind had still been reeling from all that had gone wrong in her life. Set on autopilot she must have paid the money then pushed it to the back of her mind. “Bobby, you don’t know how much that means. I was still trying to figure out where to come up with enough funds to start over, I was winging it. This will help a lot when I get on the road and re-start my life.”

“I’ve watched you since the day you moved in here. Dragging around with a hang-dog expression and acting like the world owed you a favor and hadn’t paid its debt. I’m happy you’re out from under that funk.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. A single one spilled over and streaked down her cheek before she could wipe it away. “You’re right, I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff, but now it’s time for me to fix myself. Yesterday I got a call from an attorney’s office about my friend Cara. The woman said they need to talk to me about her will. Long story short, I concluded it’s time for a drastic change and a fresh start is what I need.”

Bobby waited several beats before responding. “Are you sure you need to go this drastic? What did your friend leave you in her will?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, living there or living here is the same. I have no job, I’m living off my ex-husbands money, and it’s time for me to do something new.”

He nodded in understanding. “Then let me be the first to wish you luck on your journey to find happiness. Erasing the past isn’t easy, but you’re on your way.”

“Thank you Bobby, you’ve always been sweet, even when I wasn’t in the best mood.”

“You’re welcome young miss, drop the key in the lockbox when you’re all packed.”

Harper left the office, the finality of the door clicking closed pointed a way toward an uncertain future in an unfamiliar town. She drew in a deep breath knowing she was doing the right thing even though it was spur of the moment.

She spent the rest of the day gathering boxes and other packing supplies. The tedium of packing, sorting, and organizing kept her mind busy with its tiny details. After the divorce she purged must of her junk so stared in bemusement when she filled several garbage bags with stuff she would never use. The apartment, a furnished rental, removed the added worry of moving large furniture. A quick trip to the local self-move company yielded a small trailer that hooked to the back of her car. It was big enough to hold her boxes of clothes, knick-knacks, craft items, and kitchen supplies.

She made one last trip down the stairs to throw junk in the dumpster. The TV was beyond saving, but wouldn’t fit through the trash chute. It thudded with each step as she dragged it down the stairs. She watched a curtain move in her downstairs neighbor’s apartment window when she stopped to wipe her sweaty brow and catch her breath. It was warm for February and the humidity was high enough to make even the slightest physical exertion the cause of an end of marathon dripping sweat. She sucked a lungful of sticky air and continued thumping down the stairs. The nosy neighbor never came out to offer help, and she wasn’t about to ask for it.

The closed dumpster lid stared at her in silent defiance when she tugged and dragged the TV next to it. She thumped the side in frustration creating a hollow clang. The lid was too far above her head to flip it over the end. It would be next to impossible to hold the lid and throw the now useless junk inside. With a shrug she turned and left, unable to maneuver it over the side and with no hope of help she left it leaned against the dumpster. One last look and she walked away.

She returned to her apartment and changed into clean clothes. She plopped her impulse Walgreen’s straw hat onto her head and slipped on the bright pink flip flops from the same splurge. Though late in the day to start a trip, now that her mind had solutions she didn’t want to waste more time waiting.

She made a final circuit through the apartment, checked the couch cushions, and looked under the bed for any stray items that may have slipped past her earlier perusal. Satisfied she got whatever she could she left the apartment and locked it for the final time. The heavy suitcase she pulled stuffed with several changes of clothes and a limited supply of makeup. When she reached the trash chute she stopped to run her fingers over the words that had already changed her life’s direction, one last time. Someday she’d like to thank the delinquent who scratched those words and show him or her the laminated card she now carried in her wallet.

At the office she dropped the apartment key in the locked drop-box and without a backward glance headed to her car. She slid into the warm interior and started up her reliable Camry, the chariot that would carry her toward a new uncertain future. The city flashed by as she drove down streets lined with the massive oaks that had survived the hurricanes over the years. Palm and palmetto groves dotted spaces between rangy pines as the scenery trundled by in a blur of motion. She would miss the salty air she took for granted and the mild winters though she wouldn’t miss the scorching sauna like summers or being near her ex.

Her future lay somewhere to the north. In a town she’d never seen, other than a hurried in and out for funeral services. Now she wished she’d listened more when Cara told her about the life she and Susan were building together. Harper remembered something about a small farm where they could sell fruit to people. It didn’t matter now though, Harper planned to start a brand new life. It could be in the central Missouri town or other place, but it would not be near her ex. She expected the will to contain where Cara wanted her ashes scattered, and once she accomplished that she would have the freedom of choice.

Cara, estranged from her family for many years, had built a solitary wall around her life. Since the day she told her family she was gay, even in death she wasn’t worth their time to make a trip for her funeral. Her parent’s ultra-conservative values caused them to shun their older daughter and force her from the comfort of a loving family. Harper and Cara met not long after her family disowned her. They became instant friends and had been ever since that day. No matter how many times Harper moved due to Scott’s many assignments they stayed in contact, and their friendship was the one solid thing on which they could count. Harper was there through Cara’s many failed relationships and Cara was there through Scott’s inability to stay faithful.

Cara knew Susan was the one though Harper’s natural skepticism stayed on high alert. Cara fell hard and fell fast, but each relationship degraded after a short time. Harper suspected Cara’s need to be loved made her clingy and desperate. Harper was never comfortable confronting Cara with her thoughts on why the relationships never lasted. Harper considered herself the last person anyone should go to for relationship advice, and she wouldn’t even consider doling out unsolicited advice like she had access to a crystal ball and a genie turban. The best Harper could do was be there to listen each time another relationship disintegrated.

Around the same time the dust from her own ruined marriage was settling Cara was moving to a new town and buying her farm. Harper knew Cara and Susan met while Cara was buying the farm. Susan worked at the title company where Cara went to sign title paperwork. According to Cara the day they met it was love at first sight.

Harper had never met Susan, but suspected the instant love idea had come from Cara. She ached knowing that even if Susan didn’t return the feelings, at least before Cara died she thought the love of her life sat next to her. It gave Harper an odd sense of comfort that Cara believed in love at first sight and put her whole heart into it. Susan was a lucky girl to have had Cara for even a short amount of time. Harper loved Cara like a sister and would have done anything in her power to protect her from the heartache she could never avoid.

Harper’s hands gripped the wheel as she continued driving down tree lined streets before making her way to the interstate. She reached over and turned on the radio, hoping for upbeat music to take her mind from the long drive ahead. Too many hours of contemplation would depress her, and she was ready to leave depression on the road behind where it belonged. She glanced in the rear-view mirror, happy to see her eyes clear and a look of giddy excitement missing for too many years. Maybe she should have tried this starting over thing years ago.

Her voice rose as she sang along with the music. The song was something about bass and treble, its lyrics catchy. Shouting it was cathartic to her wounds. For once in her life she didn’t care if people thought she was crazy, let them think it, she’d see none of her fellow traveling mates again. Her fingers drummed the wheel and her head bopped from side to side. Cars drove by people looked in her direction but most were so self-involved they never noticed the ecstatic woman on the verge of a whole new life. Harper never saw the smiles she put on a few faces. They never knew the funk she was in yesterday.

The miles flew by as the tires ate the pavement like a beast hungry for asphalt. From time to time she would glance at her phone suctioned to the window. The mile meter continued to count down bringing her closer to the fresh linen smell of something new.

After a few hours of driving the adrenaline wore off and her eyelids grew heavy. Dusk had darkened the horizon two hours earlier and full night was upon her. She glanced at the clock, 8:00. She was happy with the time she made today and ready to stop. After loading up on gas station junk food and finding the first motel, Dusty’s Sleep Shack, in the small town she was driving through, she stopped for the night.

After parking in front of the door marked OFFICE, Harper made her way inside the dark interior. A door chime announced her entrance to the middle aged woman sitting behind the counter. Her head was bowed with eyes focused on a tablet. The woman’s head popped up at the bell-tone. Over-processed red hair was styled into a thick mane of waves only plenty of Aqua Net and teasing could accomplish.

Harper covered a laugh before it could escape. The woman’s hairdo reminded her of her fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Lancaster. Mrs. Lancaster was a terrible teacher who always smelled of cigarette smoke and had teeth the color of tobacco juice. All the kids made fun of her behind her back. They mimicked her stoop shouldered walk and held their hands in front of their chests to mime her massive pendulous boobs. Many days on the playground were spent with kids taking turns being the crotchety woman with giant boobs, nasty teeth, hunched stride, and dragon breath. Whoever was “it” drug their way around until they tagged someone else to take their place.

The woman cleared her gravelly voice. “Hi, my name is Dusty, what can I do for you?”

Harper clamped a hand over her mouth before the suppressed laugh bubbled out for Dusty’s interpretation. She even sounded like old Mrs. Lancaster. Harper didn’t dwell on it really being her, Mrs. Lancaster died of a heart attack years ago. Though it could be her daughter, Harper considered.

“Ma’am, you mind coming back to this planet so you can answer my question?”

An obvious note of distaste sprinkled Dusty’s words. Harper lectured herself to straighten up. “Sorry, I was thinking… um… that you looked like my fourth grade teacher.”

“Well, honey, you and I are about the same age so I highly doubt that. Not to mention, I’ve never been a school teacher.” A tinkle of a laugh crept into her voice.

“Oh, of course not. It brought back some long ago memories. Those memories have been locked up for more years than I’d like to count. It’d take all my fingers and toes and then some to figure out how long ago. And to answer your question, I need a room for one night.”

Dusty smiled at Harper. “Well, I hope the reminiscing brought back good memories.” Her fingers flew over the computer keyboard, its blue light reflecting off her heavy handed makeup and garish red lipstick. “I need your info to plug into the computer.”

Harper started to rattle off her old address, then stopped when she remembered she didn’t have an address anymore. She was technically homeless at the moment. Rather than trying to explain her circumstances she gave her Cara’s address. “152 Bridgeway Lane, Buck Race, Missouri 63636.” Her mouth spat out the address without thinking, memorized from Cara’s last birthday card.

“Great.” Dusty tapped a few more keys while waiting for the machine to calculate the total. “That’ll be $50.09.”

Harper dug through her wallet and pulled out a fresh fifty dollar bill then scrounged through the bottomless pit of her purse until she found a dime, a nickel, and some pennies. Dusty took the exact change and gave Harper a look she couldn’t quite decipher. Whatever was going through Dusty’s mind never passed her red lips.

Dusty slid out a drawer under the computer monitor and retrieved a card key. She handed the key to Harper and told her she would be in Room 5, then pointed to the left where the room was located.

“Check out’s 11. Enjoy your stay at Dusty’s Sleep Shack.”

Harper took the key and gave old Mrs. Lancaster’s twin a tight smile and a parade worthy wave.

When she swiped the key for Room 5 she was greeted with a blinking red light. Goose bumps began to rise on her arms in the chill night air and flip flop clad feet protested their exposure to the humid but cool temperature. It took her three more tries before she figured out she was holding the card upside down. Once she flipped it over and slid it in again the green light flashed and there was a faint click as the lock disengaged. A furtive glance from side to side confirmed no one had witnessed her momentary stupidity. She shifted the plastic bag to her left hand as she pushed down on the handle, relieved when the door swung inward.

After returning to the car for her suitcase she was ready to settle down for the night. The second attempt at unlocking the door went off without a hitch, she pushed through then turned back to connect the safety chain. In her old life she would have never considered staying at a motel, with their exterior exits and penchant for attracting criminals, at least that’s what Scott always told her. In her determination to restart her life she was washing her mind of his idiosyncrasies. In her old life when they traveled, stopping at a hotel was rare, but stopping at a motel wasn’t allowed under any circumstances. The issue rarely raised its head because their travel normally consisted of hopping from one military installation to another. Most bases have their own housing called billeting so Scott wanted most travel arrangements centered around whatever base they happened to be near.

Harper decided it best not to dwell on the past too much. Too much sadness surrounded the past and regret of wasted time was a heavy burden to shoulder. A certain sense of freedom came with proving she was fine on her own. She missed Cara desperately in that moment, like a flash of lightning it struck her again that Cara was dead. There would be no more late-night talks, no more seeing her freckled face on Skype calls, no more comforting presence when things were going wrong.

Harper jerked herself from the well she was trying to climb down, it would be too easy to get lost in the wet, dark, depths of its slick sides and no handholds. She imagined a bucket swinging high above her head. A bucket she couldn’t reach no matter how she tried. With visions of fruitless attempts to climb the slick sides of her personal hell she squeezed her eyes tight then opened them to reality.

The motel was expectedly crappy though for the most part clean. The bed creaked as she sank to its surface. It enveloped her rear deep into its overused surface. Worn springs poked her butt through her thin stretchy shorts. She stood, not ready to get too comfortable before she had something to eat and washed the road grime from her body. She always thought it an odd saying, but somehow still kept it locked in her mind as a go to consideration when she traveled. Maybe in the days of wagons there was real road grime, or better yet trail grime. She doubted much grime accumulated sitting on one’s butt in a comfortable car seat. So far the only things she’d gathered were two numb cheeks and stiff legs that needed stretching.

After washing the non-grime down the drain she proceeded to dig through the bag to find her dinner. When she inventoried her purchases she had a stern lecture with herself on poor choices in food. It was one more thing she would be fixing in her new life quest, but for tonight she’d eat like a junk food junkie one last time. After a bag of Doritos, large Pepsi, a plastic wrapped burrito, and a king sized Snickers for dessert she was satisfied.

She settled back on the creaky bed with a pile of thin pillows behind her head. A slight musty odor permeated the room, but the bedding seemed clean with a starched stiffness that at least suggested recent cleanliness. Remote in hand she pushed the power button. The red TV light blinked twice then winked out. She pressed it again with the same result. Rather than get aggravated with it she rolled from the bed and walked to the TV, feeling around the edges until she found a power button. It came to life with a blast of raucous noise. It was tuned to HBO and an old movie she didn’t recognize popped up on the screen.

Uncaring of what the movie was about she crawled back into bed with its creaks and squeaks singing to her as she got comfortable. The thin blanket was enough to keep her from shivering in the cool room. Her eyes gazed unseeing at the screen as her lids grew heavy. Her last thoughts before she drifted to sleep with the TV blaring and lights on, was that Scott would never allow such things.

His house rules were anal to a fault, and he expected her to follow whatever ridiculous edict he laid out. Lying in bed with the TV on was a foot stomping no-no. When she suggested they install one in their bedroom, his face bubbled with a red-fury because she even dared to question his authority on the matter. The part she never told him was she only suggested it out of curiosity of his reaction. Scott, being an Air Force officer, was used to getting his way and not having peons question his authority. During his fit she had snapped to attention and saluted, yelling “Sir, yes Sir”. He didn’t find it funny and stormed from the house staying gone for two days. That was the first time she realized he had someone on the side. Someone he could run to who would obey his commands. She spent those two days wallowing in self-pity, blaming her traitorous womb, that exactly one month before had expelled their first born son too soon. They laid little Sammy to rest, and Scott became a man on a mission to assuage his suffering in the arms of other women.

At the time she questioned if she was to blame for his indiscretion. A year passed before she got pregnant again. They were living in a new town and had found a modicum of happiness and accepted the death of their son. Both were ecstatic but cautious as they looked forward to their future child. It all came crashing down again. With an impending sense of Déjà vu they rushed to the hospital. Bryson was laid to rest shortly thereafter. The pattern continued with the next pregnancy when Caleb entered and left the world too soon. With the finality of another baby lost Harper had her tubes tied, ensuring she would not go through this particular hell again.

Scott’s indiscretions escalated until he was out of control. Harper’s confidence in saving their marriage shattered like a webbed windshield. The cracks started deep and made their torturous way to the surface. The ugly fate of their marriage and loss of their children drove her to find comfort in food and wine. On their nineteenth anniversary she knew there was no turning back, no amount of gorilla glue to reattach the fragile crushed shell that used to encompass them. Scott spent that anniversary at his latest girlfriend’s house, no longer trying to hide, not caring if Harper told his commander. Scott was above reproach in his own mind. He would retire in less than a year, ensuring no military punishment for his philandering ways.

Harper spent her nineteenth anniversary on the phone with Cara. Her heart tried to rip through her chest as she agonized over what to do. They had moved to Mississippi, she was out a job with no income of her own, while Scott was busy poking everything that looked female. Cara helped open her eyes that day. When Harper hung up she had a new determination to hang on for one more year, hang on until she was guaranteed half of Scott’s retirement.

At first the plan was delicious but devious, over time she enjoyed the small yet monumental control. Scott had used her for all those years while she followed him from base to base being the good little wife. She never aired their personal problems publicly. Everyone saw a marriage surviving through unspeakable tragedy. Harper never knew how Scott avoided getting caught cheating, how he kept the women he bedded happy and none ever turned on him. None had even tried to contact her. It stopped mattering to her over time.

With a goal in sight she looked forward to the day she could be free of this man she used to love with her entire being. The final year of their marriage slowed to a crawl as she counted down the days. He slept in the spare room and they never touched. The thought of ever touching him again made her skin prickle. Her forgiveness quotient was tapped out years before.

They drove together to the courthouse to finalize their divorce, even though they already lived separate lives. She had moved out of their shared residence several months before as they waited the requisite time for the judge to say they were officially divorced. Though neither made any proclamation of future friendship they chose a façade of one for the final hooray. On the return trip to their divided homes Scott told Harper about Isabella and the pregnancy. Harper thought she was okay until that final cruel blow. Her heart squeezed in agony, her breath shortened, and her body became clammy at the news. In all her imaginings she forgot to factor in Scott still being able to have a child while she lived her life in a barren field of solitude.

The demons had eaten their fill of matrimony as the door slammed shut with the finality of dissolution and the trench that now ran through Harper’s core. She would be forever changed with little to show for the life she’d already lived.