Page 7 of Heaven Leigh’s Little Halloween

She gritted her teeth, forced a smile and got up without answering any of them. Carefully squeezing by everyone, she went and emptied her mostly full tray, before heading for the exit. She could hear Hayleigh behind her calling her name, but she ignored it and kept going.

The temptation to run off and hide somewhere was so strong she had to concentrate on every step she took right back to the Littles’ Wing, and straight to her room. Getting caught somewhere she shouldn’t be, might ruin the new situation Master Derek had created for her. That was the last thing she wanted.

The good news was, with everyone at lunch, the room she shared with another girl was empty. She flopped on the bed and pulled a pillow over her face. She held it there to muffle the howl of frustration she wanted to release, but it wouldn’t come out.

It was only when she was really feeling the Little space, that she was able to express that kind of emotion and the talk of Halloween had pushed her firmly into adult mode to protect herself.

Chapter 3

“Heaven Leigh, what were you thinking, letting Ethan and Daniel roughhouse before the service? I swear I don’t know where your head is at. They’re your responsibility,” her mother snapped. “Remember, ‘Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle person will suffer hunger’.”

“Sorry, Mama. I was trying to get Rachel’s hair brushed.” The fact that her own blonde curls were a straggly mess because she hadn’t had time to do anything for herself would probably be next on the list of complaints.

Although she was only ten years old, she had four younger siblings to take care of. The seven-year-old twins never stayed still and fought constantly. Benjamin, the quiet one, was five. He was stubborn and would simply refuse to hear anything he didn’t like. And Rachel, the toddler, had to be watched every minute.

Her parents had their own concerns with her father’s ministry, so childcare had been left to her almost as soon as she could walk. Planning out the traveling routes so they could reach the most people with his tent revivals was their main focus.

And once they had a full house, Heaven Leigh was expected to have all five of them on stage, looking pristine in their pure white clothing, and ready to delight and entertain the visitors with their angelic voices. It was a full-family production and Heaven hated all of it.

“Our daughter, Heaven Leigh will start us off with ‘Amazing Grace’,” her father said. Always he said the two names together as one word, “Heavenly,” as if she’d been sent straight from above to perform on his stage.

It got so that just hearing her name with that pronunciation would make her cringe. She wasn’t sent from heaven. She was no angel. She was angry and rebellious—she just kept it wrapped up deep inside so it didn’t show, because if it did, then God would be angry.

That was one of many lessons her parents had taught her, along with how important appearance was. Another was that it didn’t matter that her parents were never kind or loving offstage, because they were perfect in the spotlight where it mattered. And hypocrisy… yeah, she’d learned about that too.

By the time she was sixteen, she just couldn’t take it anymore. One night she’d slipped out of the family bus with a small suitcase and a wad of money from the day’s offerings. She’d counted out exactly one-seventh of the money, figuring that was her fair share.

At the time it had seemed like a lot of money, but it hadn’t taken her nearly far enough. It had been a rough couple of months, living on the street. She set up a tip cup and sang for coins. In the beginning all she knew were hymns, but the longer she was out of her parents’ reach, the more popular music she learned.

The right songs in the right locations mattered. She sang hymns outside of churches when services were letting out. Popular music was for the parks. Usually she made enough to eat. She saved the extra money to splurge on cheap motel rooms for the nights when the shelters filled up.

It wasn’t the best life, but in a way, it was freeing. She never seriously considered going back and the strong independent streak that had been forced on her was a big help in managing her own life.

Then one day the skies opened up and dropped an opportunity into her lap. She saw a help-wanted sign in the window of a bakery. She knew how to bake. The promise of treats was the best way to make her siblings behave, so she’d gotten good at it.

The night before, she’d slept in a motel with a laundry room for guests, so she was clean and so were her clothes. Should she? She hesitated outside the door for so long that the woman behind the counter came out.

She was an older woman with a pleasantly weathered face. When she smiled, wrinkles wreathed her dark eyes. “You coming in, honey? I’m closing up in a few minutes.”

“I… I was just wondering about the sign.”

“The sign?” The woman turned back to look at the door. “Oh! You’re looking for a job?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean I know how to bake a little.” She wasn’t sure how she’d handle the lack of identification, address, or phone, but she was hoping to hide her homeless status. No one was going to hire someone who didn’t have a set address.

“Well, I was thinking more of hiring someone for the counter, but come on in. Let’s talk.” She stepped back and motioned Heaven inside.

After another hesitation, Heaven decided to go ahead. What was the worst that could happen? She’d get thrown out? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

It turned out to be the best decision she ever made.

Heaven found herself seated at a small table in back with a fresh blueberry muffin and a bottle of juice in front of her. In the meantime Barbara had introduced herself and gone into a full monologue about her history and that of the bakery.

It was a little overwhelming and Heaven struggled to keep up, nodding at the appropriate intervals. As soon as she finished the muffin, another one appeared in front of her. She slow-blinked in surprise and looked up.

Barbara paused in the middle of talking about how she’d started the bakery after being widowed. “Go on, honey. I’ve seen you singing down the street for tips. I’m sure you can use a snack. I’d give you a whole meal if I had one.”

That was when Heaven realized Barbara had already figured out she was passing her time between the streets and the local shelters. “I’m sorry. I know you probably can’t hire me. I shouldn’t have wasted your time. It’s just I—”

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