Page 6 of Oz Wisdom

"I believe dinner is delayed so how about a snack for the kids?”

"How about a snack for everyone?" A petite blonde laughed as she joined them at the table.

"I'll round them up,” Avery announced.

Taylor watched as the room seemed to work in unison as children settled around tables and snacks and drinks were distributed.

"I'm making sandwiches. Who wants one?” someone called out.

Taylor remained silent. How could she eat while her only friend lay outside dead? Not to mention the fear of her stomach rejecting anything she managed to force down.

"Two here," Nealy spoke up.

Minutes later, Taylor was looking down at a plate of food and a bottle of water. She managed to nibble on a few chips, but her stomach churned at the thought of more.

The little boy in Nealy’s lap, she had called Jeremiah, threw back his head and patted Nealy’s cheek. “Go outside."

"Not until Daddy says we can. Finish your snack and we'll find a movie you can watch.”

“Okay,” the three-year-old said and hopped to the floor and ran off.

The room bustled around Taylor. Most of it a blur. Her thoughts were lost outside. What was happening? Chelle was gone. What would they do with her? Did she really want to know that? Maybe not. What she was sure of was that she was alone now. She touched the rising bump on her cheek from Drifter’s ring. No more backhands or swollen eyes. No more bruises to hide.

The chatter around her returned and she wondered how long she had been there. The tables began to clear and Taylor carefully wrapped her sandwich in a napkin and placed it in the front pocket of her backpack. She stood and began helping clear the tables. She managed to retrieve plates with untouched food. A moment's hesitation and she gathered a bag of chips and a couple of cookies. Wrapped in a napkin she added those to her backpack. She grabbed an empty water bottle and filled it from the tap before slipping it into the side of her bag.

"Come join us. The kids will doze off in a few minutes and we can catch up,” Nealy suggested.

"I want to thank you for today,” Taylor said. “At least allow me to wipe down the tables for you. Then I'll wash up and be right there.”

Nealy’s smile was sweet and genuine. "Alright."

Taylor hesitated a moment taking in the scene across the commons. Old ladies filled the couches and overstuffed chairs, chatting quietly. Children from toddlers to teens were sprawled across the floor, their attention focused on the movie filling the big screen TV. A beautiful sight. This was what she had expected when she met Drifter. But how wrong she was. The clubhouse was usually filled with club girls hoping to score some action, money, a ring, or whatever their goal was for the week. But old ladies? There were few and they were hardened toward the unmarried girls who were permanent fixtures like she had become. She was with Drifter and only Drifter. The thought of marriage had crossed her mind. At least in the beginning. They had even discussed it. Only now she was thankful it never fruited into a ceremony.

Her heart sank as she studied the warmth of the scene. She didn't belong here. She turned and slipped quietly into the restroom. She lifted her shirt from the edge of the sink. Still a bit damp, but not bad, it would dry. And it looked much better. No one would imagine what she had experienced this morning. Quickly, she changed shirts, placing the borrowed shirt next to the sink. She lifted the helmet she had left next to the sink. The memories it held. They had begun with adventure and excitement filled with laughter and joy. Happiness turned into love. Or so she had thought. At what point did it all change?

Taylor shook her head. None of that mattered now. She dropped the helmet into the trash can and walked out and toward the door. One last glance back and she grabbed her backpack and eased outside.

She scanned the area. Three club members. One stood at the picnic table spraying it down with a water hose while another scrubbed the top. The third was erasing evidence that had dripped onto the ground with a shovel mixing up the gravel. She eased further away from the building. No one else in sight. No men. No Chelle. It was now or never.

She gripped the straps of her bag tight and ran toward the tree line away from the men. She didn't know if she could reach her sister's house before dark, but she'd make it there as fast as she could.

***

Taylor's steps had slowed tremendously. Her feet ached and the effort to push forward was straining. She recognized the neighborhood. She was almost there. She pushed forward, and within a few minutes the familiar blonde brick home was in front of her. She pulled in a deep breath and pushed out all her anxiety of facing her Tenley and asking for help.

Evening shadows hid the welcoming sight she recalled of plants and figurines framing the front door. As she eased closer, she noticed the figurines had disappeared and the greenery had taken over the small space. A deep breath and she quickly pushed the doorbell button, jerking back her hand as if it were on fire. Her heart raced. She hadn't seen her sister since she left her apartment and moved in with Drifter. What a mistake. But too late to fret over that now. Would Tenley be mad? Would she turn her away for not contacting her sooner? She would have, if she'd had a phone. She had lost her phone one day when Drifter was drinking, and she had forgotten to silence it. He jerked it from her hands and dropped it to the floor, crushing it with his boot. She had been devastated at the time, but decided not to waste money on replacing it. Her funds had been dwindling too fast for her liking.

The door swung open, and a man filled the space. "Good evening.”

"I'm looking for Tenley Arison.”

"I'm sorry. You must have the wrong house."

"213 Moss Creek Lane.” Taylor recited what she knew was the correct address.

"Right house. Wrong name. Hold on.” The man leaned back and shouted, "Thelma!”

Instantly a woman appeared next to him. "Hello. Can I help with something?"

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