1
She vowed as she flung open the screen door; it hit her butt for the last time as she went out the door. She was determined she was out of there. That previous punch busted her lip, so she dripped and slung blood everywhere as he ranted in the other room. She hoped the cops would think he killed her and lock him up forever.
She turned and caught the screen door, and closed it quietly. She might be determined, but she was not stupid. Setting her eyes straight into the darkness, she headed for the open road. She was scared to death, but she was going to get away from him and this hell of a life she was living. Walking down the dirt road in the pitch dark, every rustle and crack made her jump. She expected at any second to be attacked by a rabid raccoon that would scramble out of the brush and get her. She had to overcome the darkness, but this was her only chance. She couldn't leave penniless, so she took what little he had in his pocket. He would notice his money missing in the morning and look for her. Her life depended on this deception, and a quick getaway under the cover of darkness and his drunken stupor helped.
He was getting more violent by the day. She knew that eventually, he would use that knife as he threatened her with it for the umpteenth time. There were times she wished he would slit her throat and get it over, especially after she lost her baby. She would have welcomed death as she prayed for the pain and torment to end.
She put up with his abuse for four long years, and she was only twenty. She was the middle child of eight children. Her father wanted boys to help with his business but only had a few. They married off their girls as soon as they could. It gave her folks one less mouth to feed,' she would hear her father say often as some man was found for another sister.
Jason started so sweet. He convinced her father that he would take good care of her. She thought he was so handsome and charming each time she saw him. He was an outstanding actor. He said he was six years older and had a good job and a lovely home. After knowing this man who abused her, a month after going out on one actual date, her father signed to let them marry when she was barely sixteen years old. Having no idea what marriage meant, except what she saw at home, she prayed hers would be like her friend's family. They were members of their church. They seemed to be a loving and friendly family that cared for their children.
They went to the courthouse in Bay City, a small town along the coast of Texas, to pick up a license, and she signed her life away without realizing she was walking into hell. That was the last time she saw the big city. It was the largest city she had ever been to. After a small church wedding, they were off to a small, run-down shack in a scrub field. This was the great inheritance he spoke about to her father. He received this plot of land and the shack from his grandfather. Her parents didn't have much of a house or three bedrooms for eight kids, but they made do they had to. This was all their dad had to offer, but this shack was falling around her ears, and Jason thought nothing of the leaking roof, bugs, and cracked walls you could see daylight through.
On her wedding night, he raped her repeatedly, and it went downhill from there. Gone was that charming man she thought was her new husband. He was a cruel monster and proved it almost every day. She tried to be loving and attentive, but violence was all he had ever shown her.
She cried to her mother about his abuse when she finally saw her six months into the marriage. Her mother told her he was her husband; she had to make the best of it. She walked away, leaving her to her fate. She watched as Jason and her father talked and laughed while drinking beer. Her family went about their business, ignoring she was even there. That was four long years ago, and she had not seen them since. For all they know, she is dead. To her, they are no better than Jason, cruel and uncaring.
The baby was the one bright spot in her dismal life. She fantasized endlessly about holding it and loving it. She made plans for the room, moving furniture to make room for a second-hand crib. She hoped to purchase it soon. They had three more months, and it would be there. She hoped Jason would go and get her mother to help with the delivery when the time came. She knew no one else who could help her; she had no friends and saw no one. Jason kept her isolated to make him her world. She knew she would have to wait for just the right time to ask him and would have to gauge his mood.
Her stomach was rounding out, and she could feel the baby move. Pointing out the movement to him one evening, she wants to share her excitement. Feeling the movement was new, she had only thought about it for the last few days. She hoped he would show some interest and get as excited as she was. Instead, he became angry, telling her she talked about the baby too much and pushing her away from him. He stood and punched her in the stomach. Doubling over from the first strike, she tried blocking his blows, but he hit her thrice. He ensured he penetrated as deep as possible and did as much damage as possible.
She hoped if she lay still, everything would be Okay, and the pains would subside. Crawling to the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning, she knew it was over. The intense pains started an hour later. She clutched a washcloth in her mouth to stifle her cries. She had no idea what he might do to her if she disturbed his sleep. Alone in the dark, all her hopes and dreams trickled down the drain of the cold porcelain bathtub.
Jason came in that morning to take a piss. Flicking on the light, I saw her holding the tiny gray baby girl in the tub. He told her to get rid of the damn thing as he switched off the light and slammed out the door to go to work. That was his morning ritual. He didn't brush his teeth, and only once in a while would he shave his scraggly beard because of rules at work.
She washed her as the morning light filtered through the tiny bathroom window. Marveling over how pretty she would have been. She sat looking at her tiny fingernails and her perfectly formed body. She ran her fingers over her translucent skin, kissing her perfect feet, marveling over tiny nails on her little toes.
Jason found her still in the tub holding the baby when he came home that evening. He pulled her out of the tub by her hair and dragged her into the yard. Handing her a shovel demanding she buries the damn thing. He beat her for being sad after she placed the last clump of dirt on the small plot. He raped her two days later, getting pissed off because she got blood on him. He cursed and hit her until she cleaned him up. She was in hell with no way out until determination set in. She would get away. She had failed to save her baby, but she was determined to save herself. Somewhere out there, life had to be better.
*
She had his folding money in her pocket and kept moving, ever vigilant, listening for his truck. You could hear it half a mile away. It was her early warning system before he came home. She could ensure everything was as he wanted before entering the door. Now, that slipping belt would be her salvation. She planned to jump in the ditch alongside the road and hide in the knee-deep weeds if she heard him coming. She felt confident he was still asleep; he was pretty drunk when she left. He didn't stir as she changed and collected his money. Patting her pocket often to assure herself the money was still there, she kept walking.
Misty was a pretty girl with large green eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She was thin to the point of looking frail. She had long, thick brown hair that fell softly down her back until about a week ago. Her husband claimed a man at the gas station was looking at her. She didn't want to go with him up there, but he demanded she come. This other man's supposed attention pissed Jason off, so he cut her hair in a fit of rage when they got home. Now, it was above her shoulders and looked like hell with the choppy cut. It took her days to clean up the mess he made, throwing her hair as he cut it around the house. She didn't try to fix it; he would have beaten her for attempting to look suitable for someone besides him. This was the insanity she lived with daily.
At this point, she didn't care how she looked; it only added to her busted lip and black eye from his latest outburst. She kept walking. She was on the county road; she had walked about five miles. She had at least three more miles to go before she was in the nearest town. A blinking light on this county road was all that told people the city was there. She could get a drink and maybe something to eat in the outside vending machines. She hoped she would reach there before the station opened. She didn't want anyone who knew her husband to see her. If she were fortunate, she would catch a ride with someone going west as far away from Blessing, Texas, as she could. It had always been her dream to go out west to see the mountains, something different and new. Old and flat is all there was around here.
The crazy man who named this town wanted to call it Thank God Texas. The state wouldn't let him, so he called it Blessing. It had never been a blessing to her. Her only reason to thank God tonight was that the mosquitoes weren't carrying her away.
Walking down the middle of the asphalt road was helping. It was late spring, and the heavy dew settled on her, coating her hair and clothes. Her shirt clung to her body, and her skirt clung to her inner thighs. She continually pulled it loose. Traffic was light at this time of the morning, and she could keep to the center of the road most of the time.
She could see the slight glow of the few lights on in the town ahead growing brighter. She focused on the blinking light, and it beckoned her to keep going. Her gnawing hunger had her praying for something good in those machines. She was getting tired, and keeping up the steady pace was brutal. She was already exhausted from the day. Jason came home in a foul mood, smelling of shrimp and whiskey as he did most days. Guessing someone at the docks had pissed him off. She knew by slamming his truck door that she was in trouble.
Waiting in the kitchen for him to come in, she greeted him with a smile. He quickly knocked it off her face. She never knew what to do to make him happy. A cold beer and a hard fuck seemed to be the only way. If she waited for him in bed, he would beat her for being a whore. If she hesitated to pull up her skirt, he would beat her for not wanting him.
Lights showed behind her, and she stepped to the side of the road for them to pass. A shiny new truck drove by her; maybe a silver, she thought as it went by. They had a shiny new truck when she first married Jason. He pushed it into a ditch one night out, carousing with his friend Gus. Getting drunk seemed to be their favorite pastime.
Misty was thinking about how nice that truck was when the truck driver slammed on the brakes and put the car in reverse. Scaring Misty to death, she jumped into the ditch and ducked, hiding in the weeds as planned. It would have flashed in her mind if Jason had found someone to take him to see her. The truck stopped right next to where she hid. Stifling a scream, she looked for a place to run. Barbwire and goat fence or the road were her only options.
"Come out, I'm not going to hurt you. Looks like you could use a ride," a man called out; he sounded friendly. She could see he was by himself as he swung his passenger door open for her, calling out to her.
What's the worst that could happen to her? He could rape her and leave her dead on the side of the road, she thought, but she was crouching in a mosquito swarm, losing more blood by the second. Plus, this was stupid. She had to take a chance, she told herself; she couldn't walk to California. So, she stepped to the side of the road to accept his offer.
The light from the cab showed him what bad shape she was in as she stepped to the side of the road, causing the driver to put the truck in park. He jumped out and ran around the back of the car to help her.
"Oh My God, Miss, what happened to you?" He asked as he quickly approached her. She backed away, holding out her hands in a vain attempt to protect herself, not knowing what he was going to do to her as he charged towards her.
He was a young man who looked about twenty or younger, not handsome, but he took good care of himself. Freshly shaved with a good haircut. She could smell cologne on him. A welcome change to the rotten shrimp smell that engulfed Jason continually. What she saw in his eyes was concern, not anger. She relaxed, taking a deep breath as he stood six feet before her.
"Miss, I'm not going to hurt you. Please let me help you. Where are you going?" He beseeched, glancing around to ensure they wouldn't be run over.
Breathing a sigh of relief. "As far away as I can go," Misty told him, making her way to the door of his truck.
"Well, I can take you to Port Lavaca. I'm on my way to work," he told her. "But you look like you need to see a doctor."
"I don't have the money for that," Misty told him, still distrustful.
"I will take you that far; maybe you can find someone there to take you further. Please get in. I have to get going, but I don't want to leave you out here," he told her, guiding her towards his truck like he was herding wayward goats, never touching her.
She got in, took a deep breath as the man closed her door, went around quickly, and got behind the wheel. The cold air conditioner felt terrific on her aching body. Glancing over at her before he closed his door, he asked, "Who did this to you?"
"My husband did," Misty said, looking out the side window, not wanting him to see her shame.
"You do know this is illegal. He can't hit you and not go to jail," he said, trying to contain his anger. He would love to kick his ass.
"Then he gets out and kills me, so no, thank you. I'm just going to keep moving," Misty told him.
He drove on, wanting to do something for her, but he didn't know what. Skirting Blessing, he drove down towards the coast.
Jason would get up in two hours for work, and he wouldn't find her sleeping in the bathtub. She wondered what he would do. How crazy would that make him, and then he would find his money missing? That would send him off the deep end, and he would destroy the inside of the house.
She had taken to sleeping in the tub when he was in his mood. She never knew what he would do to her; at least she would hear him coming. He would tear into her as she slept if she slept in their bed. No, she was going to keep moving, she told herself as the miles clicked. This had to work, and she had to get away from him. If he caught her now, he would kill her just because he could. For some reason, his hatred for her grew no matter what she did to try and make him content. She knew happiness was impossible.
"Miss, could I take you to McDonald's? Maybe someone is headed to Victoria or Austin from there," he suggested.
She had no idea what a McDonald's would be, so she told him, "If it's not out of your way; otherwise, just leave me on the side of the road. Thank you for taking me this far," Misty told him, feeling the miles ticking away; she was doing it and getting away.
"No, it is not a problem; it is right by my work. I usually pick up something for breakfast there," he told her. Catching a look at her as they went under a streetlamp. Under all that beat down, she was beautiful, he could tell. Why her husband would want to beat on her, he could not understand. He must be crazy. If he had this woman, she would be his world. Glancing over at her hands, he could see by the glow of the dashboard that she was not that old. He drove along quietly. She seemed to have relaxed some, so he could, too.
Hunger was her constant companion. Jason had not brought home anything for dinner last night. She realized it must be a restaurant; maybe she could get some food there, she thought as he asked. "You mind if I cut on the radio?"
"No, do whatever you want, please. I appreciate the ride," Misty told him.
He turned on the radio, and she leaned back and listened. She had not heard music in months. Jason took that away from her, too. He caught her singing along to the oldie station on the radio and smashed it to the floor over a year back. Misty continued to replay her life, how everything had gone wrong. She agreed to marry him so that she could leave the house and be alone. All she had gained was more abuse. Her father was a jerk, too, constantly hitting and yelling. That is how he ruled his home.
She spent her life never knowing what was going to happen to her. She knew other men weren't as bad as the two in her life. She had friends in the church whose fathers weren't mean, strict but not mean. They were happy people, and she could tell they loved each other. She didn't think she had been shown love one time in her life. Nothing remotely compared to her friend Tina and her family. That was what she wanted more than life itself. She wanted someone to love her and someone who would accept her love and not hurt her in the process.
The glow of the chemical plant signaled they were getting close. She had been this way a few times as a kid; returning from her grandmother's place, she remembers the glowing lights. She enjoyed attending their grandmother's; her father was always on his best behavior. Seeing it again, she felt she had done the right thing. Start over and get away from that man. She looked over at the man who was taking her away from her horrible life.
"Thank you again; you may have saved my life. Thank you," she told him and continued to look at him. He looked over at her and smiled. It was a sad, concerned smile, but a smile. Why couldn't she have married a man like this one? As young as he was, he had a new truck; it didn't smell of cheap whisky and shrimp. He probably never raised a hand to his woman. She wondered how they lived and what type of home he provided for her.
She didn't ask. It was none of her business, just like she was not his business.
"If anyone asks, you never saw me, please," Misty asked him, sounding defeated.
"No, I understand. I never saw you," he told her.
Crossing the causeway, she could see the caps of the waves glowing white. The city glowed bright, even at 5:50 in the morning; people were out, and the businesses were lit up. She watched as he drove by business after business had started.
"I haven't been out for a long time. I must look like an idiot looking at everything."
"No, I just feel bad for you and would like to do something for you," he told her as the McDonald's sign appeared. She noticed the sign and sat up straight, ready to get out. She was relieved to see it was a cheaper food place as she unbuckled her seat belt.
"You have helped more than you know, so again, thanks," she said as he pulled in. She opened the door and slid out as he barely rolled to a stop.
Before she could close the door, he called out, "I work just across the street at the rental place. If you need anything, just come over there," she gave him a half smile and closed the door. He took her forty miles from her husband, and she wanted to put another five hundred more before she could relax.
Driving to the drive-thru line, he watched her in his rearview mirror as she walked into McDonald's. He got his breakfast and looked in the windows to see if she was still there. He couldn't see her, so he drove on to work.
*
Standing in the front window, his boss came and stood by him.
"What is up with you?" He asked, seeing the concern in this young man's face.
Mark told him about his morning, "and I left her at McDonald's. She looked like someone had beaten the hell out of her many times, and I just dropped her off," Mark whined.
"Did she ask for help?" Bob asked.
"No, she didn't. She tells me I may have saved her life and thanked me," Mark told him.
"Damn, that is rough," Bob said, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and went back to work.
"Yeah, she just wants to get as far away from this area as possible," Mark told him. "She was a beauty. You could see she was beautiful even with all the bruises and cuts. She needs a chance to get away."
Bob turned and walked over to talk to a guy standing by the register filling out paperwork. "Hey Dan, aren't you headed to Victoria this morning," Bob asked.
"Yeah, in a few; we just need to load up that front-end loader you needed to be repaired," Dan told him.
"Mark, go see if you can find her. We can send her with Dan, who will get her further down the highway," Bob told him.
He was out the front door before he could even say, see. Mark sped across the road as Bob watched from the front window. He dashed in the door and found her sitting in the back. She must have been in the restroom when he drove by before. He could see she had washed the blood off her face and hands. All her abuse was still very evident, but she was cleaned up. She was trying to look better when that realization hit him; it only doubled his desire to beat the hell out of her husband.
"Miss," he said as he approached her. Looking up, she again smiled.
"I found someone who can take you to Victoria if you will come with me; he will be leaving soon," Mark told her.
She quickly picked up her trash from the breakfast she just finished and followed him back into his truck. Misty's heart was pounding. She was excited she was getting further and further away from Jason, and he wasn't even up yet, thanks to him.
Dan was standing by the door of his truck, waiting for Mark to return with her. Bob came out; as he drove up, he wanted to see this beaten girl. Stopping just to the side of his truck, Mark jumped out, racing around to the other side to help her down.
Handing her off to Dan, he was feeling less guilty. He has done all he could for her, or at least all she would accept. If he had it his way, he would take her home and treat her like a princess for the rest of his life if she let him.
Dan, this is," he stopped and looked at her for her name.
"I'm no one; I'm nothing," Misty told them, shaking her head sadly, unwilling to give a name.
All three looked sadly at her.
"Ok, Nothing. Why don't you get up in my truck, and we will see if I can line you up a ride further away from here," Dan told her.
Helping her up, they could see mosquito bites and bruises all over her too-thin arms and legs.
Mark patted Dan's arm and said, "Take good care of her no one else has."
"I'll do the best I can," Dan told him, taking off Highway 35. Bob and Mark watched as they drove away.
"We never saw her if someone asks. She needs to disappear," Mark told Bob.
"That is for damn sure that girl has been maltreated for a long time. I hope that bastard never finds her," Bob told Mark as they returned to work.