The Uninvited Guest

Coral

Cold sweat covered my shaking body as the door swung open, nearly touching my nose. I pressed myself against the wall as tightly as I could.

The light flicked on, and I knew I would be discovered if they ventured into the study. My heart pounded in my ears, and my mind frantically searched for an excuse if I were caught, but it came up blank.

The birth certificate clutched in my cramped hand would be damning. Every second felt like an eternity. I heard a sigh that reminded me of Mr. D, and the light went off. He pulled the door closed, and I sagged in relief, my body shaking with adrenaline.

Falling to my knees, I curled over them and didn’t move until my heartbeat and breathing slowed down. I sat in the dark and waited, listening for Mr. D’s footsteps to fade.

I was so shaken that, after a few moments, I realized that I could just remote-view to see where he was. Sending my mind to Dixon’s bedroom, I hovered over their rotund sleeping forms. Mrs. D was snoring gently.

Pulling my mind back, I crept upstairs and into bed, hiding my birth certificate under the mattress, too keyed up to sleep.

***

I woke up to the sounds of moaning. I sat up and saw Marianne cradling her stomach. I jumped out of bed, my bare feet hitting the ice-cold floor, and walked over. “What’s wrong?” I asked, managing to sound concerned.

“Cramps,” she bit out through gritted teeth.

“Period?” I asked, feeling horrible about my deception. I didn’t like hurting people, but by helping myself, I could help all these girls. The Dixons were monsters, and I wondered how many girls they had sold before I came along.

“Don’t think so, oh, oh, I need the bathroom! Quickly!”

I helped her up, and she waddled to the bathroom. I closed the door as she sat on the toilet and climbed back into bed. I heard the distinct sounds of vomiting and ran back to the bathroom. “Marianne? Are you okay?”

She didn’t reply, and now I was a little worried. I ran to the kitchen and found Mr. D drinking coffee. He looked up and raised his eyebrows.

“Sorry to disturb you, but Marianne is vomiting and seems to have the runs. I am not sure what to do…”

“Oh dear, I am sure she will be fine. This type of thing happens sometimes. I will wake Mrs. Dixon, but she won’t be in a good mood. She doesn’t like to get up early.” He walked towards me, his arms embracing me. “There, there,” he consoled while his right hand slid down to my scantily clad butt.

He squeezed once, twice, and then a third time. I stood stiffly in his arms. Evil, perverted bastard, I had to restrain myself from kneeing him in the balls.

I heard Mrs. D’s strident voice the minute she woke. She came rushing out in her housecoat, her thinning, frizzy hair standing straight up.

“What on earth is going on here?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. D. Marianne isn’t feeling well. She is vomiting and has the runs,” I responded meekly.

Mrs. D huffed and marched up the stairs to the bathroom, which reeked of puke and crap. She took a step back and wrinkled her nose.

“Clean this up, Coral. I guess she will have to stay in bed today. It couldn’t come at a worse time— we must prepare for your Birthday lunch tomorrow. Tell Emily to stay home from school. She will have to help with the cleaning. You will have to do the shopping. Hop to it.”

Mrs. D marched out, and I bit back a victorious smile. After her cramps lessened enough, I managed to get Marianne back into bed and clean the bathroom.

Once I made porridge and cleaned up, I checked on Marianne. She was fast asleep, and I hoped the laxatives had run their course.

We kept the house clean, so I didn’t understand Mrs. D’s paranoia over a State Representative’s visit—possibly a guilty conscience.

I intended to wear layers of clothing to keep me warm. I couldn’t very well pack a bag. I wore a long-sleeved T-shirt and added another two over that: woolen stockings and my best jeans. My boots were a little worse for wear, but the three pairs of socks underneath should keep my toes warm.

I donned my jacket, retrieved my birth certificate, folded it, and slipped it into the inner pocket.

Mrs. D was still in her housecoat, drinking coffee at the kitchen table. She handed me a list and a hundred dollars. “Make sure you get everything on the list. Get the meat at Fairdeal Butchers in Havelton—they are the cheapest. And make sure you keep all the slips. Not a penny missing, do you hear?”

“Yes, Mrs. D.”

“Don’t forget the shopping bags. I won’t have you wasting money to buy more.”

“No, of course, Mrs. D, um.” I turned around aimlessly. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember where Marianne had put them.

She pointed to the laundry and shook her head at me. “What’s wrong with you today?” she asked.

“Nothing. I want my birthday to be as perfect as every other one I have attended.” I lied and fetched the shopping bags.

“Silly Goose, now go. I need you back this afternoon, so no dawdling,” she ordered.

I walked through the door and knew I would never come back.

It had snowed overnight, and even though the plow had been through, the streets and bus stops were deserted. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but a bus came every half hour.

I fished out my birth certificate and quickly slipped it into the plastic shopping bag. I had escaped. I would not be sold. Yet, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. I had more than half a day to get far away from Emberg. I felt elated and panicky.

One thing I was sure of: I would rather die than be sold. I wasn’t foolish—I knew what men did to women.

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the bus arrive until the doors screeched open. I jumped up and entered, handing the hundred-dollar bill to the driver.

“Really?” he grumbled. “I don’t have change for a hundred. You will have to pay me on the way back. You’re one of those girls from the Home, right?”

“Yes,” I squeaked and nodded simultaneously.

“Well then, you can pay me double when you come back,” he said, staring into my eyes.

“Thank you, I will.”

I sat in the first seat of an empty bus. In order to blend in, I needed the correct change for the next bus trip.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived in Emberg. I walked directly to our local grocery store and bought a sandwich and water. The cashier didn’t bat an eyelid when I paid with a hundred-dollar bill, and I let out the breath I was holding.

Havelton was ten times the size of Emberg, and I could catch a bus or train to many different places. I would check the schedule and see which bus left the earliest and went the furthest. Anxiety nipped at my stomach as I waited.

It felt like hours before the bus came trundling along. The cold wind penetrated my jacket, and my hands were freezing, but gloves had been the last thing on my mind when I walked out the door. Most of the people waiting had cell phones, and I wished I did so I could contact my aunt, somehow, even though I didn’t have her number.

I sat right at the back of the bus, blowing on my hands and glad to be out of the cold. I ate my sandwich and drank my water, which was about the quality of food I was used to at the Home. An hour later, we arrived in Havelton.

Once I was in the terminal, I hurried to the train schedule. My eyes scanned it. There was nothing but canceled written next to each route leaving out of town. The reason? Snowfall throughout the region. Oh god, I was done for. Panic threatened to overwhelm me. Today, of all days, we had a snowstorm.

Tears of frustration leaked down my face. I ran into the restroom, sat on the toilet, wiped my tears, and calmed myself. I hauled out my Birth Certificate and looked idly at it.

Coral Wentworth

born on December thirty-first, two thousand six

Place: Preston

I reread it. I thought I had been born in Emberg. Where on earth was Preston? I sat for a while, thinking. My mom had never mentioned anything like this, and neither had my aunt. Not that it mattered. What mattered was finding a way out of here. Crying wasn’t going to help me.

I walked back into the terminal, fervently hoping that the flashing “Canceled” sign had disappeared. Anxious and stressed, I walked out of the terminal and into the freezing cold. I had to find another way. Not far along, I saw the flashing sign of a twenty-four-hour Café. A cup of coffee would warm me up.

The strip mall boasted a café, a liquor store, and a coin-operated laundry. A pickup truck was parked in front of the liquor store, loaded with cases of alcohol. The man standing next to it was large, not just tall but burly. He had a full beard and shaggy hair. He wore only a cardigan and looked out of place. Everyone else was wearing thick jackets and beanies. He wasn’t even shivering.

Crouching down at the corner of the liquor store, I pretended to tie my boots and eavesdropped on their conversation.

“That’s the lot,” one of the guys said, clipboard in hand. “Are you going to drive back in this weather?”

“Ah, a bit of snow never hurt anyone, and yes, it’s only a three-hour drive,” the burly man responded. He pulled a cap from underneath his arm and fitted it to his head.

“Stay safe!”

“Safe is my middle name. See you next week.”

He then took a tarp from the cab, covered the cases of alcohol, and walked over to the café. Three hours away was further than I was now and I bet I could fit under that tarp.

My gut told me there would be a search party, and this was my only option. I had to take a chance, even though the risk of freezing was high. Moving closer to the pickup, I was about to lift the tarp when the man turned and walked back. No!

He looked at me, and I stepped closer to the store’s entrance. I hurriedly rummaged through my shopping bags as though I were searching for something. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him retrieve his wallet, close the door, and lock it.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he walked towards the café. Checking the liquor store, I saw the guys were chatting at the counter. I wasted no time crawling underneath the tarp, covering myself, and waiting. I would rather freeze to death than be violated.

The time seemed to stretch on before he came back. Had it been an hour? Two? Heck, maybe it had only been twenty minutes. But when the truck started moving, for the first time, I felt true hope. Hours passed, and I sank in and out of sleep. The cold was extreme, but I didn’t want to move too much.

I was only vaguely aware when the truck stopped, my muscles frozen in place.