Chapter 4 - Starry Night
“What’s past is prologue.”
- William Shakespeare
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Growing up, Mom and I had camped a few times when we wanted to avoid people.
Coach Ryan had taken Nathan, me, and some of the guys on other camping trips during the school year. Hanging in the woods with a bunch of guys provided more chances to learn about camping than from Mom.
When our freshman year was done, Nathan went with Coach Ryan and the guy on a deep wilderness adventure.
Mom and I decided to take our new friend, Brooke, camping to a state park.
As we traveled to the park, Brooke fiddled with the radio. “Jake, what do you want to listen to?”
“Anything.”
“You won’t get reception where we are going,” Mom said. “Your phone probably won’t work either.”
Brooke gave a playful pout, and then her face brightened. “Maybe we can sing.”
Mom shook her head and sighed.
Brooke started singing, “All the single ladies/All the single ladies…” Her arms were waving in the air, her hips were wiggling in the seat, and she did her best to dance as she sang.
“C’mon y’all, sing along,” she urged and continued.
Mom still had an amused smile.
“I’m not a single lady,” I said while trying to sound cool as my cheeks burned red.
She began singing another song and clapping her hands. Then prodded me to sing along, but I couldn't quite remember it. She sang and clapped so much more. When she sang, “Because I’m happy…” I figured it out.
“Happy,” I exclaimed. Brooke nodded, and I joined her.
Brooke’s happiness and excitement were impossible for me to ignore. Soon, she had me singing, making a fool of myself, and feeling happy about it. The four-hour drive flew by.
* * *
Once we arrived, we scrambled out of the car into the fresh scent of the pine forest, with musty, earthy smells of a nearby lake.
Mom stretched her legs and took a deep breath. “Do you remember those pines in that park we visited?”
“Yeah.” My eyes were filled with marvel as I looked over the forest, the mountains, and the shimmering lake. Squirrels and chipmunks scurried along the ground.
The sounds of the forest, the warm breeze rustling the leaves, and the song of birds greeted us like a beautiful orchestra playing for us.
Their songs ‘chik-a-dee-dee,’ ‘cheery-cheery,’ and ‘kik-kik-kik’ brought back memories of my childhood.
Above the music of nature, I heard Brooke’s call. “I gotta pee. Where’s the toilet?”
I pointed to some thick bushes several yards away. “You can go there.”
Brooke danced around without any music. “That’s for boys. Us girls need a little more privacy.”
“Come on,” Mom motioned down the road. “There are some facilities a few yards that way.”
Off they went, leaving me to set up camp.
They hadn't returned after setting up the larger tent for the womenfolk and the smaller tent for me. Hurrying a woman with her business was ineffective and rude. I learned that long ago as an impatient little boy. Mom still had to remind me occasionally.
But they had been far too long, so I scouted around. No one was near the restrooms.
A lady going in was kind enough to check for them. “Are you sure they didn’t go to the main office? That’s where you can find out about the activities around here. They even include a gift shop.”
Thanking her, I headed in that direction. Of course, that makes sense. If Brooke goes camping, she has to go to the gift shop.
Inside, toys and gadgets bearing the park’s logo were on display. A little further inside were racks of T-shirts, towels, and blankets bearing the same logo.
I surveyed the store for Mom and Brooke and spotted them at a counter. Brooke was studying a brochure.
“Hey, Jake!” She called over to me. “They have kayaks and paddleboards. We should try it. Grace, do you want to come with us?”
While Brooke planned everything we would do — boating, stargazing, hiking, nature guides, and more — Mom picked up a brochure. “Did you notice the prices?”
“We’re on vacation. We’re supposed to spend money.”
Mom shook her head while Brooke continued planning the rest of the week.
Soon, the sun was setting in the sky, and Mom suggested, “We should probably head back and cook some supper.”
She looked around like she didn’t know what was going on.
Mom added, “I’m planning to make peach cobbler.”
Brooke’s ears perked up. “I have an idea. Let’s go back and have some peach cobbler.”
* * *
Mom brought out the Dutch oven with the peach cobbler and set it on the campfire to cook after we finished the stew she’d made.
Brooke said, “Thanks for driving us up here, Grace. I’m a horrible long-distance driver.”
“No problem. The entertainment made the drive seem shorter.”
Brooke’s eyes brightened, or was that an effect of the campfire? Either way, I wanted to get my say in before she broke into song and dance. “I bet I could drive that distance with no problem.” I had been itching to drive since I sat in the front seat, but that was another thing Mom was cautious about.
Brooke turned to Mom, “Maybe Jake could drive us back?”
She probably pictured us in the front singing, with Mom in the backseat, unable to protest. Mom had dashed her dreams another way. “He doesn’t have a driver’s license.”
“What? He’s seventeen! He should have gotten one last year.”
I had pestered Mom about it, and now someone was on my side. “See, I'm old enough. I don’t want to wait until I am eighteen.”
My rebellious teenage streak rarely made an appearance, mainly because I understood the stakes. Being caught up in the moment, I spoke out of turn, and Mom glared at me.
Brooke shot back, “Is that why you pick him up? Because he can’t drive? You have him staying at our house because you want to be the protective parent. He told me you tried homeschooling him, but you did a lousy job.” I wanted to disappear in the shadows from embarrassment, because I never blamed Mom. “I’ll take him myself to get his learner’s permit this summer and help him practice.”
Mom usually stood her ground when confronted. Instead, she sat hunched in her chair, her moist eyes reflected in the firelight. She turned to Brooke and, with pleading eyes, said, “Please don’t.”
“Why not? You know he’s been itching to drive. I can’t just sit back and watch my best friend hiding from life.”
At that moment, I saw that our friendship meant something more to Brooke than singing, dancing, and acting goofy. We showed genuine care and concern for one another. She deserved more trust.
“We’re hiding,” I said.
“What? From who?”
“My dad.” I felt that Brooke deserved our trust. She kept her word and didn’t tell anyone my actual age.
That bit of honesty eased the tension in the air and deflated Brooke’s ranting.
Finally, Mom spoke. “I couldn’t tolerate that man and wouldn’t keep Jake there a moment longer, so we ran.”
Brooke’s eyes softened. “Grace, I’m so sorry. That’s an awful shame. He must have been a beast.”
“I’ve known several, but he’s one of the worst.” Mom’s voice trailed off, and we listened to the crackle of the fire. Her past was a mystery to me, and she always said her life began when she had me.
“So, you keep him off the streets and hidden in someone’s house while you hide in a childcare center. Don’t you think he’d find you if he wanted to?”
I was always hidden in the childcare center with Mom or at home. In truth, she kept me close and protected. Hanging out at Brooke’s house showed a lot of trust and relieved Mom's anxiety.
Mom surprised me by revealing our secret. “We changed our names and severed ties with family and friends. Grace and Jake are not our real names.”
Brooke’s eyes widened as she turned to Mom and then to me. “Do you mean my best friend has a secret identity?”
That earned a good round of laughter from all of us. She asked, “So what is it? Ralph? Brian? Simon? Am I getting close?”
“I would never name my son Brian! I knew a creep named Brian. I don’t want any reminders. Besides, if we told you, it wouldn’t be secret.”
“Not even a hint?”
“We had to leave that all behind.”
Brooke’s brows furrowed. “That’s a lot to give up. He must want you real bad. And Jake’s practically a grown man. Why is he so obsessed, and why did you change your names?”
Mom stared into the fire, searching for something. “That’s all I can say. It’s behind us now.”
I blurted out. “Mom got shot!”
“Good Lord, Grace! What kinda madman is he?”
Mom let out a big sigh. “I’m lucky to be alive. He and his thugs have buried several others. I had proof, so he came after us.”
Brooke gasped. “Oh my God! Is your husband a gangster?”
Mom looked down with shame and shook her head. “I regret many things, especially being taken advantage of by that man. But I would never marry a criminal.”
She recited her tale of getting shot by one of my dad’s thugs. I just remembered a few things, like being at the childcare center and one of the ladies there taking me to the hospital.
Mom told me later that the shooting had been in a grocery store parking lot, and two gun-toting citizens had saved her. After that, a lawyer helped us negotiate with the courts to obtain new identities, and we fled.
Brooke was captivated as Mom filled in the details, but I didn’t care about them. Remembering the incident made my blood boil, and I couldn’t listen anymore. I walked some distance away from the campfire into the darkness, hoping the cool night would calm my mixed feelings.
Sometimes, I was so angry at my dad that I wanted to punch him in the face. He deserved that and more for what he did to us. The coward sent someone else to shoot her, and that punk messed up the job.
Other times at night, I remember hiding in that closet, waiting for him to kill me. The only safety I found was in the blanket Mom got me when we were on the run. Its size could hide me and protect me.
The night sky was filled with stars far away from the city lights. I stared up and remembered when Mom took us to a park to look at the stars in the stillness of the night. I wish for those days when we didn’t have to be afraid and just had each other.
The evening breeze blew harder, rustling the trees. The sounds of bugs and other night critters filled the evening air. All those sounds soothed me. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Brooke slip in beside me and startled me. She looked up at the night sky with me for a few moments before speaking.
“You must really miss them, those kids from the childcare.”
I turned to her.
She said, “When Grace got shot, that’s why you had to leave them, ain’t it?”
“We were all so happy there, and he ruined everything.” I hung my head down. “I hate him.” That was the first time I admitted it aloud.
I looked up, and Brooke was smiling. She always was. But in the darkness, I felt it more than I could see it, and I knew it was sincere.
“They meant a lot to you, didn’t they?”
Searching for those warm feelings in my heart, I said, “Those were the best times in my life. I wish I could have watched them grow up.”
“And that girl you liked to watch drawing? She must have been someone special.”
I gazed up at the night sky. “Yeah, I guess so.”
She stared up at the stars with me.
“You know how kids draw stars with pointed star shapes. She would draw them with yellow circles like that famous painter, Van Golf.”
“Van Goof,” she corrected me.
“Yeah, whoever. She drew more detail than most eight-year-olds. Birds in the trees. A kid flying a kite. And she drew the wind, blowing it. I thought it could blow the kite right off the page.” I couldn’t stop grinning.
A kind, gentle smile spread across Brooke’s face in the starlight.
I tightened my fists. “Now, no one will play with or pay attention to her. Everyone just ignored her unless I was around. No one will be there for her.”
“I bet she misses you.”
I tried to hold back a tear. “When Mom and I had to go, we told the kids goodbye. That girl drew me a picture of us holding hands.”
“That’s so sweet of her.”
“I fished a purple toy ring out of the prize bin and gave it to her.”
She giggled. “She’s never going to forget you. How long ago was that?”
“Six years.”
“She’s about fourteen years old now? I bet she’s built a shrine around that ring.”
“She doesn’t know my new name or where I am.”
“That won't stop her from dreaming.”
I admitted, “I still have the drawing.”
Instead of her usual laugh, she slipped her arm into mine. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“Okay.”
“Grace’s peach cobbler should be ready by now. How about we get some?”
* * *
After getting our fill of peach cobbler, we told ghost stories around the campfire. Instead of scaring ourselves, we laughed more. Mom had some of the best stories I hadn’t heard before.
After the last story, Mom suggested, “Perhaps we should get some sleep and be ready for tomorrow’s adventures.”
At that suggestion, Brooke reviewed the brochure again, and we wondered if she would ever get any sleep.
My eyes couldn’t stay open, and I rummaged around in the car for my stuff. Where was it? Did I forget it? I panicked and started tossing things around.
“Whoa, there, Big Guy.” Brooke handed me a sleeping bag. “I brought one for each of us.”
That’s not what I was looking for, so I backed away.
She shoved the bundle into my arms with a wry smile. “Here, you can have the big one, so you feel cozy alone in your little tent.”
I felt like throwing it back at her. She didn’t understand. Mom’s hand on my back stopped me. “Thank you, Brooke. If Jake weren’t so tired and grumpy, he would tell you how much he appreciates this.”
Brooke gave me a disbelieving look and stepped away.
Mom leaned into me and stroked my back. “Relax, Jake. I already put your blanket in your tent. You’ll be okay.”
Her peaceful face relaxed my panic, and I remembered my sleepiness. I started to set down Brooke’s sleeping bag, but Mom spoke up. “Take it anyway. Out of respect. Use it how you want.”
I stumbled into my tent, kicked off my shoes, and wrapped myself in my blanket. Sleep came to me in seconds.
* * *
Over the following days, Brooke led us from one adventure to another, whether it was hiking, kayaking, or stargazing. Her energy and enthusiasm were contagious. Even Mom joined the fun sometimes. We’d sit around the campfire in the evenings, eat, and tell stories.
Brooke wouldn’t come out of her tent or sleeping bag one morning. She refused to eat.
I found a comfortable spot on Mom’s side of the tent and sat with Brooke. We had seen her like this a few other times. I’d either sit by her door or find her in her parents’ room and sit with her there. She knew it was useless to grumble and push me away. She was my friend, and I wasn’t going to abandon her.
On the last evening, Mom and I coaxed Brooke to come out and sit in a camp chair with us. We found a spot overlooking the lake. We ate sandwiches as we quietly watched the sunset over the lake.