I waited until the door closed before trying it. My fingers fit fine. That wasn’t the problem. The stupid thing was designed with a cup to keep intruders from touching anything important. Anything throbbing like mad. Including me.

I hated him. I hated Paxton Pierce, and for the life of me, I didn’t know what would possess me to marry someone like him. He was evil. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t even rest. I endured the tingling sensations, all around my clitoris, and danced my hips, trying like hell to get a little friction. I couldn’t, no matter which way I moved. Nothing could touch me there. Not even me. Fucker.

The phone left on my stand occupied my mind some. I read all my text messages, trying to remember something. Most of them were from Paxton. Ninety-five percent of them. A couple were from Candace, talking about a show on television, and a link for something. I clicked on it, but it wouldn’t work.

By the time everything had relaxed enough for my mind and body to settle, I could hear the girls. I thought it was the girls, anyway. Were they up from their naps already? What time was it? I shifted between sleep and consciousness a couple times before handing it over to a comatose slumber.

~~

“Watch your step. Stay right behind Izabella.”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to go higher,” Izzy said from above me. We were high. Really high.

“I’m right behind you. You’re not going to fall. We’re almost there,” my mom coaxed. I didn’t want to go higher, either. Even at six, I knew this wasn’t safe. What kind of mother lets her little girls climb billboards along the highway? My mother. That’s who. Billboards located just over airport runways. I didn’t know what state it was in, but it was big. Huge planes, flying in an out.

It wasn’t until we made it to the top that we felt the magnitude of that. The ledge spread at least four feet wide, and the fear of falling depleted with the view. My mother dropped the backpack from her shoulders and sat against the giant ad behind us. Gas and lodging, next right. She pulled the thin blanket from the bag and snuggled us to her. One twin on each side. Izzy wore the same red tank top as me, and matching white shorts plastered with red strawberries. We all slid out of our shoes and waited for the next takeoff.

“So many people. All going to different places. Where do you think they’re going, Clydes?” my mom questioned in a faraway tone as she removed the bread and then the peanut butter. Again. It would be our breakfast, as well. Maybe with honey if we had any left.

“Maybe to Maine. I want to go to Maine,” I announced.

“I want to go to Maine with Gabby, and then on a train. Some people sleep on trains.”

My mom handed me my sandwich with a peculiar look. “What’s in Maine?”

I bit into the sandwich and replied around the food in my mouth. “I’ll show you,” I mumbled with a full mouth, retrieving the folded paper from my back pocket. I’d torn it out of a magazine when we had to wait for a man to fix our car at the garage. That’s why we had to eat peanut butter again. My mom said we had to use all the money for a new starter.

Mom took the crookedly folded paper and opened it. “Acadia National Park?”

“Uh-huh. Look. It has boulders, and me and Izzy can climb on them.”

“One of the highest tides in the United States,” she read.

“Yeah, turn it over. See the tide is all the way to the rocks now,” I explained with a little finger to the same rocks.

“Okay, let’s go to Maine. Here, you write it down, Izzy.”

“No. I get to write it because Izzy wants to see a train. She can write that,” I complained.

“Oh, right. Smart thinking,” she agreed with a smile. Her finger tapped her temple playfully. She leaned back and bit into her own sandwich, handing Izzy the shared bottle of water. I wrote my idea in our blue notebook and handed it off to Izzy.

“Whoa!” Izzy suddenly exclaimed as the noise got louder and louder. The plane was close enough to read the lettering. It shot up over us as fast as lightning. I always thought airplanes flew in slow motion. They always looked like they were barely moving in the sky. Until that night, anyway. Airplanes were fast. Lightning fast.

“Wish them well,” my mom called while waving her arm. “Goodbye, have fun, safe travels.”

Izzy and I did the same thing, yelling goodbye while sandwiches waved in the air. We were so close. The gigantic plane rose just above our heads until it was off, leaving us with a gust of wind and awe. A moment in time I would never forget.

I never felt safer in my life. Fifty feet from the ground. I was safe. My mom talked and talked about where we were going next in between takeoffs and landings. Izzy and I took turns telling jokes that made no sense, we sang songs, counted stars, and listened to my mother talk about things I didn’t understand. The universe, and our frequencies. How we had to always be happy. Be kind to everyone we meet, and listen to our first instincts.

Normal little girls were being taught to do chores and responsibilities by six. Izzy and I were taught that the answers came from within. Not a textbook. Not a teacher. Not a doctor. The answers always came from within. Izzy and I always agreed. Both lying that we understood. We didn’t. Neither one of us. It was almost like she was prepping us. Like she knew. She wanted us to be happy, not spoiled. She hated stuff, and because she hated it, we never had it.

Not even a house.

“Listen to that tiny voice. The first instinct. It’s always right, girls. You hear me?” my mom rambled in a serious tone while she squeezed both our hands. She preached the stars to us a lot while staring out into space. We spent the entire evening on top of the world, listening to crazy talk from our happy mother, and watching planes.

Once darkness took over our surroundings, a whole other magical phenomenon fell upon us. The clear night with twinkling stars and brightly lit airplanes took on a complete new dimension of mystic.

When Izzy and I got tired, we laid our heads on our mother’s lap. One on each leg. We did this a lot. Fell asleep like this, all over the United States. Izzy and I fell asleep with our mother’s hand stroking our hair. She stared up at the sky for hours, eventually laying down with us. The noise didn’t even bother us. With our mother between us and our hands touching each other’s, Izzy and I dozed off to a happy, peaceful sleep. Roaring planes, soaring above our heads.

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Day after day, I got a little better. And day after day, I didn’t remember. I remembered things, incidents, and voices. My mother’s and Izzy’s. I remembered them, but nothing else. I remembered traveling through the mountains on a train with a hobo named Boo. Izzy and I loved him. He played the harmonica while my mom danced around the car with us. He even shared a bag of plain potato chips with us. My favorite. I remembered that trip to Maine, too. Izzy and I climbed huge boulders, probably higher than the billboard.

I learned a lot by asking the girls questions when Paxton wasn’t home. When they weren’t out running around doing everything under the sun, we got to know each other. I hung on their every move, and I fell madly, deeply in love with them. Both of them.

I spent a lot of time alone while they were away being busy, but come Saturday, Paxton made me go to their tee-ball game. I didn’t mind. Other than him taking me to the doctor, I hadn’t been anywhere. Not even for a walk along the beach. I couldn’t wait to do that.