Page 2 of A Lesson In Beginning

“It’s time to pull yourself together, Adah Price.” It didn’t matter that my throat was scratchy, or that my voice wobbled as I spoke. “You have bigger things to worry about than that piece of paper.”

I dabbed cool water against my eyelids and cheeks, hoping to reduce the redness and swelling from my tears. I didn’t want to look any weaker than was absolutely necessary. With a renewed sense of purpose that laid solely with the child that waited for me at a nearby hotel, I squared my shoulders and left the bathroom, the hallway already filled with people and loud chattering as those congregated in the courtroom had now vacated it, and had found a new place to gossip in the suddenly claustrophobia-inducing hallway.

“There you are.” The social worker’s voice called from my left. I could barely see the top of her curly hair over the crowd of people. She shoved and pushed her way past people until she was standing beside me, just in the nick of time. Suddenly those gossiping voices turned, almost in sync with one another, towards me. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes landing squarely on me. There was a moment of near silence before the roar of questions assaulted me, making me wince.

“This is going to be a shitshow.” The social worker’s vulgar language made me cringe, but she grabbed me by the elbow, steering me through the crowds while barking orders at anyone who stood in our path. I kept my head down, doing my best to ignore the barrage of questions that flew my way, their voices accosting me, one question after another, with not even a breath of space for me to answer. It was for the best; I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t feel like I could answer.

I focused on the few feet in front of me, keeping my head lowered as we made our way out of the building and down the courthouse steps. In what felt like only seconds and somehow also hours, we were standing beside the social worker’s car.

“Let me drop you back off at the hotel, so I know you get there safely. Remember, don’t answer any questions. You don’t want that kind of press. Any press on top of all of this nightmare will only make things worse.” I didn’t trust myself to speak, emotions still threatening to overtake my better judgment. Instead, I quietly got into her car, strapped myself in, and focused on the one important thing: Samuel.

* * *

“Sweetheart, Mommy’s home!” I plastered a smile on my face, shutting the hotel room door and flipping the security latch for good measure. It had become a habit after weeks holed up in this tiny room, but it helped.

“Mommy!” The pitter patter of my son’s toddling feet shuffled across the floor as I dropped everything in my arms without a thought, kneeling down on the ground with arms wide open, awaiting my son’s loving embrace. “Mommy was gone a long time.”

The poor thing was caught in the middle of a complete whirlwind of drama he had no idea about. I wrapped my arms around his small frame, pulling him into my chest and holding his head into the crook of my neck. The scent of his baby shampoo gave me a comfort I desperately needed. In truth, I need much more than that. I needed a support system. I needed my family. I needed my husband. I needed —

“Do you have my payment?” Nadia’s voice called from above me, my eyes lifting to the woman’s face as she rolled her eyes, hand held out for cash. Nadia was from Zion and was literally the last person I had to help me in my time of need. Her family had been able to leave Zion unscathed by the drama and crime of the last two years, having relocated here to the city of St. George. She had thankfully agreed to come watch Samuel while I was with attorneys and at the courthouse, though I could tell from the eye-rolling that she wasn’t exactly happy with the arrangement any longer.

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

The reminder of what Proverbs had to teach us replayed in my mind as I pondered how to best handle Nadia’s ire.

“Of course, Nadia. Give me just a moment. Samuel, why don’t you go play with your blocks while Mommy handles this?” I watched as he toddled off back towards the far corner of the room, where I had set up a small play area for him. It wasn’t much, but the Lord blessed those who endured in the midst of suffering. I turned to my purse, pulling out the cash I had stowed away. There wasn’t much left, but it would have to do. “Here you are, dear. Thank you again, so much for —”

“Twenty dollars isn’t enough. It’ll be forty.” Her acerbic tone was like a slap in the face.

“Forty? We agreed on twenty.” I felt anxiety bubble up inside my chest.

“And we also agreed that you would be back by noon. It’s now nearly three o’clock, so I’d say forty is more than fair.” She rolled her eyes, fixating her gaze off towards the small kitchenette and refusing to meet my gaze. All the while that hand stayed perfectly poised for payment.

“I really don’t have the cash to spare, Nadia, but maybe —”

“Listen, Adah. I’ve been more than kind by helping you out so far. No one else would touch you with a ten-foot pole after what you and your family did.” She spat the words at me, slapping me in the face with the shame my family now bore as she leveled a hateful glare in my direction. “Not to mention, that kid of yours was a complete nightmare, constantly begging for his mommy and daddy. The little gremlin doesn’t even know that he comes from criminals.”

I gasped at her words, feeling the hot pin prick of tears gather in my eyes.

I would not cry in front of her. I could not.

I quickly dug through my purse, pulling out another piece of paper and handing her both bills in payment.

“I understand. Thank you for your time and for watching him, Nadia.” The words had to be forced past my lips, but I could not contain the grimace of distaste at her decidedly irreligious tone. She grabbed the money from my hand, stuffing it into her purse and flinging open the door.

“Do me a favor, Adah.”

“What’s that?”

“Forget my number and do not call me with your needs again. Find someone else to manage your brat while you clean up your family’s mess. If you ask me, they should throw you in prison with the rest of them.” With that, she exited, slamming the door shut with a loud crack as metal met metal.

“That was loud, Mommy!” Samuel drawled, looking over at me from his play area where he had assembled blocks up as high as his knee.

“You’re right, it was, Samuel. What do you say we read a story together?” I re-fastened the safety lock on the door and sat on the bed, pulling my Bible from the bedside drawer.

“Not right now, Mommy. Samuel play blocks!” I smiled at him, letting my heart fill with joy at the sight of his innocent play. He built the blocks up one by one until it was near toppling over, and then would smash them all to the ground, giggling with delight all the while. His mirth was contagious, making me laugh along with him and push my troubles to the side, though not for long.

I opened my purse while he played, pulling my wallet out and counting the money that remained. There was very little left, and dread threatened to overtake me. We had no way of surviving. I had no job. We were low on food and even lower on funds, with no way to replenish what I had spent. I had tried with all my might to be frugal, to do as Mother had taught me. But Mother had not prepared me for living life outside of Zion with no husband, no provider, and most of all, no family.

---