Home From Within
Authors: Lisa Maggiore,Jennifer McCartney
Contents
Home From Within
Lisa Maggiore
HOME FROM WITHIN
Copyright © 2015, Lisa Maggiore
ISBN: 978-0-9862718-2-3
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover by Sarah Skarda at
myshortpockets.com
Ebook Interior by
QA Productions
VAGABOND PUBLISHING
C
hapter
1
•
1999
•
Jessica thought, staring into the darkness of her bedroom. She sat with her knees tucked under her chin, tented in bedding that was slowly letting out the warmth. The yellow glow from her bedside clock read 3:06 a.m. Jessica glanced at Matt and noticed that he never flinched when her alarm went off. They had been sharing the same bed for many years, but sometimes she hardly knew he was there.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she shuffled toward the bathroom at the end of the hall, flipping on the night-light next to the sink so she could take a hot shower in relative darkness. Cranking open a small window, she drew a deep breath, allowing the smell of fresh dew, hay, and pine to swirl inside her nose.
A faint glow shone from the bulb above the stove as she ate oatmeal in the kitchen. Various songs from her past kept flooding her consciousness, and Jessica tried to distract herself by focusing on the mundane thoughts of the morning, but that only made the songs louder. And behind the songs were voices that did not want to stay buried under her secret armor any longer.
Jessica had been able to keep her feelings about the death of her first love, Paul, buried deep. And down deeper were the memories of her father holding those damn Colt .45s that had served as judge and jury for young lovers sneaking around. Jessica believed the ache in her chest would go away with time; however, it had been seventeen years.
But last night, while channel surfing, she stumbled upon the classic eighties movie
Purple Rain,
starring Prince. She could not stop herself from watching despite the movie ending at midnight. Caught in a whirlwind of euphoric recall, she remembered the excitement of sneaking out with her best friend, Marilee, and going to see the movie—and how the sex scene jump-started her adolescent hormones. She spent countless hours daydreaming of Paul singing “The Beautiful Ones” to her as an ode to loving her so desperately and not wanting to lose her to another. The intensity at the end of the song made her feel alive.
The songs in the movie evoked feelings in her that were a mixed bag of good and guilt. Usually those memories were ones she could bury, not wanting love and death to overpower her again. But not this time. She allowed herself to remember some of them, resurrecting other memories she could never forget.
C
hapter
2
•
1982
•
For the first time, Jessica got ready without her mother standing, arms crossed, in her bedroom doorway. She said a little prayer in her head, thanking God for Aunt Lodi talking some sense into her parents and allowing her to attend the neighborhood high school. Aunt Lodi was also responsible for Jessica being able to shop for some trendy clothes with only her best friend Marilee, leaving the judgmental gaze of her mother at home.
Jessica took a quick hot shower, and as she dried off felt comfort in the routine smells of the morning: bacon and eggs for her, pancakes for her six-year-old brother, Jason, and coffee for her mother, who was not a breakfast enthusiast. Jessica brushed her long sandy-blond hair and decided not to blow-dry it, so the natural curls would take over. Many of the girls in the neighborhood had perms, and Jessica was glad she didn’t need to perm her hair because she knew her father would say no to such a prospect. As she pushed her long bangs over to look in the mirror at her green eyes, she wondered how they would look with makeup. She retrieved her outfit from under the bed: a pair of Sasson jeans, a purple top with shoulder pads and geometric side cutouts, and a purple dago tee. Jessica was so happy her father was out of town and would not be inspecting her wardrobe choice. Two months of relative freedom. “Yes!” she said out loud, celebrating his absence as well as how she looked in her new outfit. She took one more glance in the full-length mirror and then decided to top off the outfit with a silver necklace that had two charms hanging from the chain: a cross and a mini dream catcher that Aunt Lodi had given her during a visit last spring. Aunt Lodi worked on the Menominee Indian reservation and had asked a tribal member who was a silversmith to make the cross and dream catcher just for her.
“Jason!” her mom yelled as she looked from room to room upstairs. It was the first day of homeschooling at Ms. Mary Carter’s for Jason. He was not a fan of entering kindergarten, but was a fan of being able to get away with misbehaving while their dad was out of town.
“You’re in big trouble, young man, and I’ll personally see to it that your father is made aware of this behavior.”
“Okay. Okay, Mom,” Jason said as he came out of hiding.
Since Jessica’s bedroom door had been removed, she could easily hear all the trouble her brother was giving their mother. She felt relieved that her brother’s antics would serve as a distraction so she could get out of the house unnoticed, knowing her mother would protest against any clothing item that looked “cool.”
Jessica’s father coordinated with Bob, Marilee’s father, to make sure the girls would meet at the corner and walk to school together. Marilee was Jessica’s only friend. Their fathers were like brothers because they served together in Vietnam and ran a successful private security business. Bob was the reason her father moved to Chicago after Vietnam, rather than returning to his hometown in the Upper Peninsula (UP) of Michigan. It helped that they lived only two blocks from each other since Marilee’s house was the only home she was allowed to visit. And her very first sleepover happened just this summer at Marilee’s.
Jessica grabbed her backpack and peeked through the oak doorframe. The hallway looked clear, and from the sound of things, Jason and her mother were in his room battling over his wardrobe. His room was at the other end of a long hallway. Unlike hers, his bedroom had a door, and it was closed. Despite her stomach growling, Jessica decided to make a run for it. She rushed down the hall, down the stairs, and to the front door, turning off the alarm; thankfully her father had not changed the code again without telling her. She opened the door and yelled good-bye to her mother, then raced to get her Converse from under the porch, secure them to her feet, and speed down the block. Her plan worked—for about three seconds. Her mom was at the front door in a flash, yelling at Jessica.
“Who do you think you are leaving this house without permission?”
“I have to meet Marilee at the corner and I don’t want to be late.”
“What are you wearing? Who said you could wear
those
clothes to school?”
Jessica felt heat build in her face.
“Come here,” her mother demanded as she looked around. Jessica slowly made her way back to her mother’s critical eye. “This will be discussed tonight. You are to come straight home after eighth period. It should take you approximately seven to ten minutes to walk home so I will see you at 3:25 on the dot.”
Jessica’s face flamed. She had hoped that her aunt Lodi had won her some breathing room. Apparently not.
Her paternal aunt Lodi resided in the UP, and when she made a visit in the spring, Jessica had overheard an argument.
“Look at the girl; she doesn’t know shit about life. She’s going to be a young woman before you know it. You need to let her go.”
“Shhhh,” her mother said.
“For Christ’s sake, Jim, you’re going to lose that girl in a big way. She’s going to escape from here—that’s right, escape, and never talk to you again.”
Her father’s voice became hard. “You know why . . .”
“I know,” Aunt Lodi said, interrupting him, “But you cannot protect her from everyone, including the unknown. You can still be involved from the sidelines. Let her get in the driver’s seat. It’s time,” she said softly.
