The Escape Artist (8 page)

FOR TWO MORE DAYS
, Kim drove east. The pace she set was slow and easy, with plenty of rest stops for herself and Cody. It was impossible to rush when you had no idea where you were going. On Thursday, she bought herself an inexpensive bathing suit, and both Thursday and Friday checked into motels early so that she and Cody could play in the swimming pools. It wasn’t until late Friday night when she was lying alone in bed that she began to feel the inescapable awareness of her homelessness. She could head east only a little longer. Sometime tomorrow, she was going to run out of country. Maybe that was fine. She’d keep going until she ran out of road, and then she’d plant herself wherever she’d landed.

Then how was she going to support herself? She couldn’t get a job in a bank; that would be the first place anyone would look for her. She should never even tell anyone she’d worked in a bank. Maybe she could get a different sort of secretarial position, but she’d be able to offer no references. And then she’d need day care, and she was nowhere near ready to let Cody out of her sight. Maybe she could take in word processing jobs. She was a great typist. Hated it, but did it well. She could work out of her home—wherever “home” turned out to be. She hoped it would not be the back seat of the Toyota. If things were ever that bad for her, she would take Cody back. She had no right to him if she couldn’t provide for him any better than that.

From behind the steering wheel of the car Saturday morning, she knew she was hitting civilization in a major way The traffic was wild, and before she knew it, she’d been dumped onto the Capital Beltway—the wide, fast, frightening highway that looped around Washington, D.C. She’d heard somewhere that if you were trying to hide, a big city would be your best bet, but the thought chilled her. If she got sucked into the mass of buildings and cars inside the beltway, it would be like being in prison. So she continued circling Washington, taking the first exit east she could find, Route 50.

It was nearly time for lunch, and Cody was assertive in letting her know it. He kicked his legs out from the car seat as though trying to escape. She couldn’t blame him. Poor baby, trapped on the road for—she’d lost track—five days? He was entitled to kick. She sang “The Name Game” again for what seemed like the zillionth time in the past few days, but he was having none of it. It was food or nothing.

She pulled off the road at Annapolis. Annapolis was the capital of Maryland, she was quite certain, and she expected a large city to greet her, but instead found herself driving through a quaint little town. The streets were narrow, and she felt as if she’d stepped back in time. A tall gray and white dome rose high above the city from a large brick building, and the rest of the town seemed to fall away from that dome in all directions. She drove around, enchanted, until she came to water, a river or a bay perhaps, and it seemed that she had stumbled upon the heart of the city. She was in a large square surrounding an enormous dock filled with boats and activity. People dotted the square, walking, taking pictures, eating at sidewalk cafes, or simply sitting on benches overlooking the water.

There was a parking lot and she managed to pull into a space as someone was leaving. The sun was warm and bright as she lowered Cody into the stroller. She was smiling to herself, but Cody whimpered with hunger. Her first stop had to be for something to eat. One of the buildings edging the square was filled with a variety of take-out restaurants. The smell of fish was strong inside and not at all unpleasant, and she bought fish and chips for herself and a container of strawberry yogurt for Cody.

As she walked toward one of the benches overlooking the dock, she passed the side of a restaurant and was immediately captivated by a mural painted on the windowless brick. She stepped back to look at it.

The painting was of a tall ship, white sails billowing, set against a midnight blue sky dotted with white stars and a full moon. The artist’s name, Adam Soria, was painted in the lower right-hand side, below the white-capped sea. There was something surrealistic about the painting, and until Cody started his I-am-terminally-hungry wailing, she could not tear herself away.

She pushed the stroller to a vacant bench by the water and began feeding her hungry son. A sense of calm surrounded her as she sat there. This beautiful little town was a capital city? There were plenty of people around, to be sure, but no one seemed rushed or harried. Seagulls swooped through the air over the water and pecked at crumbs on the wharf. The air was filled with the sound of lapping water and the scent of brine. She had lived in landlocked Boulder all her life. She’d had no idea what she was missing.

She poured juice into Cody’s bottle and handed it to him. An older couple walked by and smiled at the two of them. She smiled back.

“Oh, Cody,” she said. “Does this feel like the end of the road to you?” Her excitement was edged with trepidation. Once she actually stopped traveling, she would have plenty of time to think about what she’d done—and what she’d lost in the process.

She lifted Cody out of the stroller when he finished eating and let him toddle around, holding on to the bench or her knees. He was fascinated by the seagulls, jumping up and down as though he wanted to be up in the air with them, flying.

Kim spotted a newspaper vending machine a few feet away, dug a quarter from her purse, and bought a paper. She kept one eye on Cody as she turned to the classified ads. There were only a few rooms for rent in Annapolis proper and several apartments. One of the apartments, though, claimed to have a view of the Naval Academy and the Severn River, and that was enough to intrigue her. It was partly furnished, and rented for four hundred and fifty dollars a month.

A man dressed in a gray suit walked past the bench, and she asked him if he knew where Maryland Street was.

“You go up Randall Street and make a left on Prince George,” he said, and when he saw her look of confusion, added, “You can get a map from the visitor center over there.” He pointed to the opposite side of the parking lot.

“Thanks.” She put Cody back in the stroller and began walking toward the visitor center, where she got a map. She opened it on the hood of her car. Spread out in front of her, the town looked as small and manageable as she’d guessed it would be. She found Maryland Street. It looked like an easy walk, and she turned the stroller in that direction.

The houses were small and packed tightly against one another. Some were brick, some wood, and all of them were very, very old. Older than anything she’d ever seen in Colorado.

Maryland Street, though, was lined with tiny shops. Antique shops, gift shops, book stores. Peering ahead, she could see nothing that resembled an apartment building. She checked the address, wondering if the apartment might be above one of the shops. She continued walking, and the shops gave way to small homes and a church. Soon, she spotted a large house standing alone on what was, comparatively speaking, a huge lot graced by a lone towering maple tree. Where the other houses hugged the brick sidewalks, this house was set back from the street a good thirty feet or so. It was obviously quite old, but its yellow siding and white shutters looked freshly painted. Jutting from the front lawn, an Apartment For Rent sign beckoned. She checked the address. Apparently, the apartment was in the house. She hadn’t expected that, but she liked the idea. It would be like having a real home of her own rather than a little cell in a huge apartment complex like she’d had in Boulder.

A wide front porch was graced by four rocking chairs and a glider. “Hey, Cody,” she said as she pushed the stroller up the walk. “I think this is it.”

She left the stroller on the sidewalk and carried Cody onto the porch with her. The window on her left was open, and music—well, sounds, really—trickled from the house inside. It sounded like a waterfall or maybe the ocean. She could hear the cawing of seagulls in the background.

She knocked on the door, and after a moment, a woman opened it.

“Hi.” The woman smiled. She was partly in shadow, but she looked young, maybe in her thirties, and she glanced at her watch. “Are you here for an appointment?”

Maybe she should have called first. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I should have called. But I’m very interested in seeing the apartment you have for rent.”

“Oh!” The woman laughed and stepped out onto the porch, and the fine lines around her eyes and mouth came into view. She was older than she had first appeared. Her long brown hair was subtly streaked with gray. “Forgive me,” she said. “I thought you were a new client of mine. I’m a massage therapist and I—” She shook her head. “Sorry. So you’re here about the apartments?”

Kim nodded.

The woman looked hesitantly at Cody. “I’m not sure about a baby,” she said, but she reached out and stroked the back of her fingers down Cody’s cheek and the little boy smiled. Kim had the feeling the battle was over before it had even begun.

“He’s good-natured,” Kim said. “Quiet.”

“It’s just the two of you?”

“Yes. My husband and I are getting a divorce and he got the house.”

She knew immediately that she’d spoken the magic words.

“Oh, I know what
that’s
like,” the woman said. “Come in.”

Kim stepped into a foyer. On her right was a table with a huge vase of daisies, and ahead of her, a long flight of stairs leading to the second story. To her left, a door stood ajar, and she could see inside to a cramped, but comfortable-looking, living room. A sweet, subtly floral scent emanated from the room.

“It smells good in here,” she said, shifting Cody to her other hip.

“I use aromatherapy with my clients,” the woman said by way of explanation.

Kim nodded as though aromatherapy were an ordinary part of her life as well.

“My name is Ellen King,” the woman said. “I live on the ground floor, and I just turned the upstairs into two apartments. Neither is rented out yet. This was the house my husband and I lived in until our divorce.”

“Oh,” Kim said. “My name’s Kim Stratton, and this is Cody. That’s great you could keep the house.”

“Well, it’s pretty tight. But I think with the rent from the upstairs, I’ll make it.” She started up the stairs with Kim and Cody close behind her.

“Do you work at home?” Kim asked. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of Ellen’s clients coming and going. The fewer people around her the better.

“Uh huh.”

There were two doors at the top of the stairs, one on either side of the small landing. Ellen unlocked the door on the left.

As soon as Kim stepped inside, she knew she wanted the apartment. The rooms had all the charm of an older home, with high ceilings and walls set at odd angles to one another. Yet despite their obvious age, the rooms were clean and fresh and sunny. The living room was spacious and was furnished with a couch and two chairs and even a small television on a table in the corner. At the opposite end of the room stood an old oak table and four chairs. The kitchen was tiny, but usable, and the bedroom held a full-sized bed, a dresser, and just enough extra space for a crib.

She felt Ellen’s eyes on her as she explored the apartment. From the two windows in the living room, and one of the windows in the bedroom, she could see the river in the distance.

“I would really love to live here,” she said finally.

Ellen nodded. “Great!” she said. “Come downstairs and I’ll get the paperwork. And I’ll need to get some credit references from you.”

“Oh,” Kim said, flustered. She should have expected as much. She was tempted to tell Ellen she’d had a sudden change of heart about the apartment, but realized she would encounter the problem of a credit check no matter where she went. Ellen might be her only chance.

“I’m just starting to build up my own credit,” she said. “Everything was in my husband’s name.”

Ellen wrinkled her nose. “Oh, nothing like adding insult to injury,” she said. “I learned my lesson there. If I ever get married again, I’m keeping everything in my own name.” Ellen looked thoughtfully out the window. “Well, let’s approach this from a different angle, then. Where do you work?”

“I’m not working at the moment.” She laughed nervously. “I must sound really pathetic! I was working in a bank, but I plan to take in word processing jobs.” She couldn’t believe she’d told the first person she met that she’d worked in a bank. “I want to work at home so I can be with Cody.”

Ellen looked disappointed. “I really can’t rent to you if you have no income.”

“Well, I get child support,” she lied. “And I’m very ambitious. I expect I’ll have good income very soon. Plus, I can give you two months’ rent, right now. If I’m not making enough money to handle the rent by the end of next month, you can kick me out.” She felt her cheeks flaming with lies and embarrassment.

“All right,” Ellen said. “I’ll write up a lease for just the two months, and we’ll try it out.”

“Thank you so much, Ellen. I can understand your reluctance, but it’ll work out. Honest.”

She followed her new landlady out the apartment door to the landing.

“Where did you and your husband live?” Ellen asked as they walked down the stairs.

“New Jersey.” She hoped Ellen didn’t need any more specific information than that. What was the capital of New Jersey? “Near Trenton,” she added. She thought about the Missouri plates on her car, and hoped they had gone unnoticed.

“What brought you down here?”

“Oh, I have some family in Maryland. But I really don’t want to lean on them. I want to make it on my own.”

“I know the feeling well.” Making a right at the bottom of the stairs, Ellen led her into her own living room. She walked over to a roll top desk in the corner and took a few sheets of paper from a folder in one of its drawers. “Have a seat.” She pointed to the sofa and Kim sat down. Cody squirmed to get out of her lap, but she kept a firm grip on him. The floral scent was strong in the room, and the ocean music began to calm her nerves. She could see past the open door to the next room, where a massage table was draped in white sheets.

“All right,” Ellen said as she wrote something on the lease. “I’ve changed it to two months.” She handed the papers to Kim, who dared to put Cody on the sofa long enough for her to read the lease, sign it, and count out nine hundred dollars. She handed the money to Ellen.