Escaping Terry

She knew she was not supposed to be in these woods, but as she followed the three boys further into the dense trees and the last of the sunlight was blocked out by the thick branches, all she could think about was her anger. Terry had promised her she would be home early Thursday morning and for once, Sara believed her. When Friday morning came around and her mother was still a no show, Sara began to feel that pit in her stomach grow. That pit in her stomach was always there, fueled by a mother who both loved and disregarded her. One minute, she was her world and the next, she was invisible. Sara looked up, taking in one last glimpse of the clouds that were peaking through the branches before slamming her eyes shut. The air was cool against her skin as it often was following a typical afternoon of Seattle rain. Her yellow rain boots sunk slightly into the mud and leaves that had formed a thick bed on the forest floor, the monkey face on the toes of her boots covered over with the debris.

“Yo, space case! Get a move on or we’re leaving you behind.” Sara’s eyes shot open, quickly taking in how far behind she was as Craig’s voice echoed faintly. She ran to catch up to the group and as she reached the big oak tree, Matt and Danny had already changed into their tennis shoes and were well on their way up the tree. Sara quickly swung her backpack around to the front, removing her shoes from the bag and taking off her boots, carful to get as little mud and leaves on her socks as possible.

Climbing was always the best way to clear her mind. She knew that climbing this far into the forest wasn’t a great idea, as her mother had all but forbidden her to even be out here, but today she didn’t care. Maybe if she hadn’t been so angry with Terry, she wouldn’t have climbed so high. She needed the height, to feel the rough bark against the palms of her hands, to be able to leave her hurt far below her on the forest floor. The rain always made the trees feel like a damp sponge, squishing a bit beneath her feet. As she passed the older boys, she settled on a thick branch and ventured out onto it, minding her foot—

* * *

A low hum filled her ears, interrupted every few seconds by a mechanical beep. Slowly, Sara opened her eyes, the fluorescent light in the ceiling above her reminded her of the lights she’s stared up at during particularly slow days in school, more often than not during math class, when she would let her mind run free. She suddenly became aware of a hand holding hers and looking down, she could see the small tattooed letters of her name across the knuckles. She’d never noticed how dirty her father’s hands were. They seemed so out of place resting on the stark white hospital blankets.

“Sara? Can you hear me, baby?” As she tried to roll to her left to take in her mother, she could hear a shrill scream. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from her, the pain filling every inch of her body.

“Nurse! We need a nurse in here, now.” Her father shot to his feet, letting go of her hand. His hands trembling the way they did when he was too angry to speak. “God damn it, Terry! Where the hell were you? Huh?” Her mother does not shrink away from his voice, though it fills the room. “I— I don’t know. I was working, Max.” Sara had never heard her mother’s voice so quiet. She had always held her own, never one to back down from a fight with her father, but something was different. Broken. Even at ten years old, she could feel a piece of her mother’s armor missing, like a soldier tired from battle lowering his shield. It may have been the pain from her broken femur, or perhaps the brokenness in her mother’s voice, all Sara knew was that her body and her mind were no longer on the same page. They had betrayed each other and as her eyes ignored her pleas to stay open, awake, she quickly found herself drifting off , back to the forest, back to the silence.

Terry’s voice was just above a hushed whisper, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I have to work to take care of our daughter, and sometimes that means working late—“ Max’s voice cuts in abruptly, “There’s a difference between working late and not coming home, and you know it Terry.” Her father’s voice booms, filled with bass that takes up all the space in a room.

“Would you keep your voice down. Do you want to wake her up?” her mother snaps back.

Too late for all that. Sara had woken some time ago, but thought it better to pretend she was sleeping in order to listen in on her parents to try and get a read on where she was going to end up once she was out of the hospital. Terry moved silently from the doorway over to the bed, as Sara attempted to keep as still as possible.

“Sara. Sara honey, I know you’re awake. You’re too still to be asleep.” Terry settles in next to Sara on the edge of the bed, taking her right hand into hers. As Sara reluctantly opens her eyes, there is a quiet knock at the door. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for Sara Daniels?” It only takes one glance for Sara to know all she needs to about this woman. With her pant suit, nude heels, a small stack of files down by her left side, and an air of ‘I know what’s best for you’, Sara could tell she was a social worker. She’d seen it happen a dozen times in the apartment complex where she lived with Terry. They show up with their files, knock on the door, and away you go, never to be heard from again. This was the fear that lay at the base of that pit in Sara’s stomach. Ever since she was five years old and a social worker came for her friend Lana, Sara feared her time would come. Lana’s mother Abby worked with Terry at the casino in Suquamish, and when she wasn’t working she would look after the girls. The problem with working at the casino was that all too often, they would be forced to stay long past the end of their shifts for an unsympathetic boss who could have cared less that they had kids at home. Lana’s dad tried to take care of them, he was drunk all the time, so it wasn’t surprising when he didn’t notice the two five year olds who have decided they want macaroni and cheese and accidentally start a small fire in the kitchen. After that, they took Lana and told Sara’s mother they would be checking in. Maybe they forgot about her, with all the other kids on their caseloads. Whatever may have happened, Sara and her mother had been lucky up until today.

The woman makes her way over to the chair on the right side of the bed, and takes a seat. “Hi there Sara, my name is Janna. How are you feeling? I heard you took a pretty big fall.” The woman tries to be friendly as Sara looks to Terry hoping for some sort of guidance, but before she can catch her eyes, Terry looks down at the floor. “I’m okay. It wasn’t really that high anyway.” Sara begins to close herself off. She’s determined to not give this woman any more ammunition than she already has, but something feels wrong. Why won’t they look at her? Terry is still looking down at the floor and as Sara looks over at the doorway she notices that her dad has the same look on his face as her mother does. She may be ten, but she’s not oblivious. “You’re here to take me away, aren’t you?” It was less of a question and more of a statement at this point. Sara looks Janna in the eyes, waiting to see if she is going to treat her like a little kid or if she’ll just give it to her straight.

Janna adjusts in her seat, obviously a bit thrown by Sara’s candor. “Yes, Sara. I’m here to make sure that you are being properly looked after. I’m here to help you.” Sara turns her head to the left, looking out the long window at a tall tree just outside. If her leg weren’t broken, she would open the window and climb down that tree in a heartbeat. She could almost feel the thick branch that was reaching towards the window beneath her feet, she could feel the rough bark against the callouses on her palms. But her leg was broken, she was stuck in this moment with no hopes of escaping and as the tears began to come, she had no hopes of fighting them. She had wondered for so long what life would be like without Terry. What it was like to have a mother like the ones in the movies. The kind of mother who woke you up in the morning with a song she’d made up just for you, who would make you breakfast, pack your lunch, and be there wanting to know all about your day when you got home from school. The opportunity was here, it was right in front of her, she could finally escape Terry, but all Sara wanted was for her mother to hold onto her and send this woman away. Janna’s voice was like a tv turned on in a different room at this point. Sara could faintly make out what she was saying, but the hum in her ears was canceling out much of it. Sara felt her mother squeeze her right hand, “Sara, baby are you hearing all this?” Sara turns her head back toward the right, first taking in Terry who is seeming to hold things together, even if only just barely. She looks to Janna, the woman who is here to tear her away. “As I said, you will be released from the hospital this evening and I will be taking you to a foster home where you will stay temporarily while your leg heals. There is one other girl there a year older than you who is recovering from an injury as well, so you won’t be all on your own.” Janna reaches out to touch Sara’s shoulder, thinking better of it as Sara stares her down. “ I understand that you’re upset, Sara. But you need to know that I’m not here to ruin your life. You need someone to look out for your best interest.” Janna rises from her seat and makes her way back towards the door, stopping a moment to speak with a police officer outside the room. Sara had wondered where he was. There was always a police officer with them, sometimes two. Like a horrible sidekick there to help swoop in and make you disappear.

As her father walked towards the bed, Sara became aware of her mother’s hand stroking hers. Sara was trying to find the right words, to put them in some kind of order but before she can, they’re already flying out of her mouth, encased in sobs. “Why can’t you just take me, dad? Why can’t I just stay with you for a while?” He scoots the chair up to the bed, rubbing Sara’s shoulder gently. “I want to kid, but that’s just not how this thing works. You know my job keeps me away even more than your mother. I can’t look after you.” Sara’s sobs seem to be coming from some deep well inside. From a dark place where she’d been saving them up for this day that she always knew would come. She hadn’t expected it to hurt like this. To feel like she was being ripped from a photograph and sent into the darkness of the world all on her own. She thought she’d be older, that she would be ready to look after herself. But she wasn’t. This was all wrong, but nothing she could do or say could stop this boulder that was already in motion.

Sara cried until she couldn’t anymore. Terry helped her get sips of water from a straw, and then cuddled up with her in the bed the way she had when Sara was three and her parents were still together. Back when her father was only on tour as a guitar tech a few times a year. All at once, she could feel herself being pulled back to that time. She could almost hear her mother waking her up that day when she was three. “Good morning, princess.”, her mother whispered in her ear. As little Sara sat up, she noticed her father sitting at the end of her bed holding something in his hands. “Daddy!” She flew into his arms. “Hey baby! So what’s this I hear about someone wanting to be a fairy princess?” Sara bounced on the bed anxiously. “But what does a fairy have? How does she fly?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “Wings!” Sara’s voice reached a fever pitch as she could hardly contain her excitement. “I need wings, daddy!” Max handed her the small package, barely having time to let go before Sara had ripped off the wrapping. Her small hands lifted the lid open, “Wings, I have wings!” she screamed. A pair of small, orange wings dusted with glitter catches the light coming in from the window. With some help from her father, Sara puts the wings and her princess tiara on. She first hugs her father and then is scooped up into her mother’s arms.

A shrill beep of a monitor in a room across the nurses station pulls Sara back to the hospital room. She wanted to hold onto that moment. To hold onto the feeling of being in her mother’s arms and of feeling her father watch over them. She wasn’t invisible in that moment or even now, but it was too late. This would be it. Sara didn’t know for how long, but this was goodbye. It wasn’t escape, it was exile and with a fading voice as she fell asleep once more, Sara whispered the words that had gotten stuck in her throat so many times before. “I love you, momma.”