(Part Fourteen)

The Driver smiled as Jax and I leaned on the door handles trying desperately to escape. A highway patrol car came towards us slowly. What a stroke of luck! I elbowed Jax, then waved my arms and yelled. Jax, jumping up from his seat, started pounding on the windshield.

The bear-like driver yanked Jax back down in his seat and reaching past him, slapped me on the side of the head. "Stop that now! Quiet yourselves or I’ll tie and gag both of you."

The patrol car passed us, but I saw the driver turn his head in our direction. I mouthed the word "Help! Please help!" but he drove on. I let out a sigh. This just wasn’t my day.

Our driver tromped on the gas, undoubtedly trying to put as much distance between the cop and us as possible. Then, from behind, a siren whined, getting louder by the second. The man glanced in the rear view mirror and slammed both hands hard on his steering wheel. "Damn! Now see what you’ve done."

For a moment, I feared he might try to make a run for it, but instead he jerked the wheel and pulled over, leaping out of the car, even before the patrol car had come to a stop. With a hand gun dangling at his side, hidden by his coat, he stalked towards the flashing car.

Jax and I crawled out across the driver’s seat and scooted behind the van. This man was crazy! When the patrolman opened his door, I stood up and yelled, "Watch out, he’s got a gun!"

No sooner had the words left my mouth than a shot sounded followed by a bullet whizzing by my head. The man cursed as he aimed at me again. Then there was a second gun shot that was twice as loud as the first but came from a dirty old pickup that had passed our van and nosed in front of us on the shoulder.

Jax’s Granny stood in front of the truck, a shotgun pointed at the big man. He’d dropped his gun and was rubbing one hand with the other. Blood dripped down the outside of his right rubber boot. Granny grimaced as she squinted into the sun. "Nobody shoots at my grandson! Nobody!"

By this time, the patrolman had grabbed the big man, and cuffed his hands behind his back. "OK, Miss. You can put the shotgun away."

She lowered her old shotgun and stepped up to us. I was surprised how tiny she was as she grabbed Jax’s shoulder and glared at him in the eye. "Scat, are you all right? I’ve been looking for you since the storm ended. I can’t believe you just ran off like that."

He nodded at her and stepped almost behind me. She came up and stood so close, I could smell her sour breath. "Who are you? And why have to taken my grandson?"

I took a step back, putting my arm around Jax. "I’m Jax’s biological sister, Kelly. I didn’t even know I had a brother until I saw the picture he carries of our mother. That would make you my grandmother too, wouldn’t it?"

She looked from Jax to me and back again. "Well, bless my soul. I thought we was the only relatives he had. Didn’t think you’d show up after the adoption went through." Then she turned towards Jax. "So, child, what’ll it be? I suppose you’d rather be with your sister than up at the house, huh?" He nodded, his eyes wide. "I know the boys don’t take too kindly to you. Not really enough to go around so you’d probably be better off if you went with her. Is that what you want?"

Jax snuggled in closer to me. I held him tight. "I want to do all of this legally. Will you sign the papers if I get them all ready?"

She stared at us a moment, then nodded. "You know where I live."

I smiled at Jax and whispered, "And this time, I won’t get lost."

THE END

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           (Part Thirteen)

As I slid into the driver’s side, tossing the rifle in the back seat and Jax jumped in beside me, I kept my eyes on the rear view mirror so I could watch if Fred was following. I saw someone peering out the window, but no one appeared. I was glad we’d brought the gun.

As the engine turned over, my heart leaped with joy. I put it in gear and hit the accelerator, skidding the tires as we turned down the driveway.

I could see no one behind us in the mirror. "Are they back there?"

Jax turned half way in the seat and looked all around. "Nope. But don’t slow down. From what I can tell, this is the only way down to the road. They could still be after us."

I skidded around corners as we slid down the steep, muddy driveway.

Jax turned back towards me. "Do you think we’ll ever get out of this?"

I tried to sound upbeat. "Of course we will, kiddo. If we stick together, we can do it."

"I don’t know. If we do make it out, won’t they just send me back to Granny’s place?" He paused, then whispered with a vengeance. "I won’t go back there. I won’t."

A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it away. "No. I think since you are my real brother, I can get custody of you and be your legal guardian. That is, if you want to stay with me."

"Really?" Jax’s smile lit up his face even as tears trailed down from his eyes.

When I looked back at the road, I could see the road ahead through the trees. Almost there! There was a sudden loud pop and my steering went crazy. "Shit! I think we just had a flat. The tire was probably damaged from being stuck between those trees."

I slowed, fighting the steering wheel as I limped to the shoulder of the main road. One car and an old pick-up crept past in the haze. Then all was quiet. Headlights behind us glimmered through the fog. They were after us. I grabbed up my purse and flung open the car door. The car dipped on the front left side, resting on the sunken tire. "Come on, Jax. We’ll have to make a run for it!"

He was out of the car and several steps in front of me as we jogged down the road. The car was almost out of sight when Jax exclaimed, "We forgot the rifle! I’ll go back."

"No time for that. Maybe we can outrun them." I heard a car door slam behind and pushed myself to move faster. Looking over my shoulder, beams of light flashed through the fog and voices drifted in the air, although I couldn’t make out what was said.

A paneled van slowed down behind us. "Hey! You guys need a ride?" asked a bear-like man in a black rain-slicker hanging his head out the window. "You guys look like you’re in trouble."

I looked at Jax and he shrugged. It was a way to get far away quickly. But I really hated taking any more rides from strangers. The man had stopped his van and opened the front door. When Jax started to climb in, he reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him up onto the seat. I climbed in and slammed the door. The craggy face with its bushy gray-streaked beard and dark, unruly eyebrows seemed honest enough. He smiled down at us, his eyebrows knitted with concern. "You keep looking back. Are you running away?"

I glanced back as Fred and Sam approached. I looked into the man’s soft brown eyes. "Mister, you’ve got to help us! Those guys are trying to kidnap us!"

He tossed his head back and laughed. I didn’t see anything funny about that! The van door locks clicked into place. This time he gazed at me, his smile tight and his eyes hard. "Don’t worry about a thing. You’re safe with me." Then, he put the van in reverse and sped backwards towards Fred and Sam, who had stood watching. Screeching to a halt on the loose gravel at the side of the road, he yelled at the two men. "I’ll take them off your hands now, Fred. Saves me a trip up to the house."

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                           (Part Twelve)

In that instant as I looked for Jax, Fred grabbed me and my purse. I kicked and screamed, hoping the commotion would make him loosen his grip. Sam and Fred’s sister, Minnie, stood by and watched.

When Fred began to drag me towards the outside door, there came a voice from the other direction. "You stop right there!" Jax stood in the doorway to the kitchen aiming a shotgun at us, struggling not to let it fall. "You take your hands off of her or I’ll shoot."

If Jax hadn’t cocked that gun at that moment, I think Fred would have laughed at him. Instead, he pulled me up in front of him like a shield. "Go ahead and shoot, girl." Inch by inch, he pushed me towards Jax. "Now you wouldn’t want to kill your friend here."

Jax took a step forward and braced himself with a wide stance. "You think I don’t know anything about shotguns? I know if I shoot at her, the shell will go through her and hit you. I know that much and I’m not afraid to do it. And I’m not a girl!"

Sam, smiling, approached Jax from the side. "Now, settle down, honey. No one’s going to hurt anyone."

Jax glared at him but kept the rifle pointed at Fred. "Stop right there. And don’t call me ‘honey.’"

"Fred!" Minnie stepped up and wedged herself between him and me, breaking his grip. "Shame on you for attacking this poor girl." Then she turned towards Jax, her hands on her hips. "And you, young man, put that gun down. NOW!"

The rifle sagged for an instant as I sidled up to Jax. Fred’s face was so red, it looked like he might explode. This man wasn’t just mad, he was livid. I took the rifle from Jax and put the hammer down slowly, but kept it aimed at Fred. "Come on. Time to leave, little brother."

We edged towards the door, keeping a good seven or eight feet between us and them. Before we backed completely outside, Fred started to follow. I re-cocked the rifle and he stopped and yelled after us. "And where do you think you’re going to go?"

Good question. They’d certainly catch us if we started off on foot. My car was free from the tow truck, but could I really get it started?

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             (Part Eleven)

I counted to ten as slowly as I could before straightening my hair and walking nonchalantly back to the kitchen. To my horror, the men both stood watching me as I entered. Sam shook his head as Fred grabbed my arm. "What are you doing spying on us, girl? Don’t you have any manners? What did you hear? Come on, tell me."

Pulling my arm roughly away from his grasp, I stumbled back. "I was just in the bathroom and when I went to wipe my hands, the whole rack came right off the wall. I’m sorry it broke. I’ll replace it." I couldn’t control the tear that trickled down my face. "Sam, what’s going on?"

Miss Minnie scurried up and whacked Fred’s hand, from which I’d escaped, with her wooden spoon. "What in the world has gotten into you Fred? Attacking this poor girl. Why, I never!"

Fred growled at her without taking his eyes off of me. "You stay out of this, Minnie. This is none of your affair."

"I will not! This young lady did nothing to deserve your anger. Now, you apologize."

Sam stepped up and laid a hand on Fred’s shoulder but looked at me. "We just came in to get your car keys, Kelly, so he can see about getting your car running. That’s all."

I glared at Fred before turning to Sam. "The car ran just fine when we left it. Don’t think there’s anything wrong with the engine. The body’s just banged up some." I reached for my purse and pulled out my wallet before meeting Fred’s gaze. "Now, what do I owe you for the tow?"

Fred’s voice was controlled. "Just give me the damn keys."

"No, Jax and I must be on our way. We’ve taken up enough of your time." I reached into my wallet and pulled out a bill. "Here’s a $50. That should cover it."

Fred lunged for my purse and I pulled it away just before he could grab it. Then I turned, intending to snatch Jax and dash out. But Jax was no where to be seen.

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                                    (Part Ten)

Like Sam, Fred lived outside the city. His driveway was paved, but very steep. I gripped the arm rest and hoped Fred’s brakes were good enough as I watched my car, front end winched up, loom in the front window as we followed behind. Through the dense trees, I peered up at the enormous house on top of the hill, relieved when we finally leveled off and pulled into a clearing. The three-story stone mansion skirted by several smaller "guest" huts reminded me of a mediaeval village. Heavy fog had hung below us now, like a giant cloud. It was bright and clear at the top. Fred parked his truck, with my car, into a large garage off at the side of the big house. Sam stopped beside the front door of the mansion, hopped out and opened the back door. "Well, come on out, girls. We’re here."

I stepped out with Jax just behind me. Fred and another young man approached from the garage area. But before I could greet them, a stout woman, her gray hair pulled harshly back in a bun at the base of her neck, rushed out the front door towards us, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. I didn’t know people still wore those aprons. The last time I remembered seeing anyone wear one was my grandmother. The lady smiled and fussed over us like a mother hen. "Why, Sam, are these the young girls you’ve rescued? You must come inside, dears, while Fred checks out your car. He’s a real expert when it comes to repairing them, so you can count on his good judgement. I was right in the middle of putting some chocolate chip cookies in the oven. Wouldn’t you like to help me? Oh, where are my manners. You can call me Miss Minnie. I’m Fred’s sister, but people think I’m his wife."

She grabbed Jax with one arm and me with the other and walked us into the house. Jax and I both gawked at the barn-like place with it’s chandeliers and hardwood floor as we passed the rich leather couch and two chairs. A grand piano took up the whole far corner of the living room.

When we walked into the kitchen, the stainless steel appliances and marble counters glistened in the sunlight streaming in from the window above the sink. As Miss Minnie and Jax spooned the dough onto the cookie sheets, I asked about using the restroom and was directed down the hall to the last room on the right.

As I washed my hands, Sam’s voice floated in through the partially open window. "Do you think they’ll want the child too? She is a pretty young thing, but awfully young."

I peered out the window and saw the plaid-jacketed man with the hawk nose unhook a chain, then walk over to Sam. "Sometimes you get more for a young kid than a grown woman." Then, he pointed to my car that was down on all four wheels again. "We ought to be able to pick up a nice piece of change for this car too. Looks new enough and I can get these dents out easily. Bet it still runs OK too."

Oh my God! I reached for the hand-towel and yanked it off the rack, keeping my eyes on the two men. The rack came crashing down, clattering as it hit the floor. Both guys jerked their attention towards me, peering out the window. I jumped away, plastering my back against the wall by the toilet, trying to slow my racing heart. Had they seen me?

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                         (Part Nine)

When I turned to go back down the stairs, Jax stood at the bottom looking up. "What’s wrong?"

Afraid he might sense my fear, I skirted the question. "We need to find a way out of here."

"What’s wrong with the door?" he asked.

"I think Sam locked us in."

Jax looked puzzled. "Why would he do something like that?"

I bit at my lower lip, trying the doorknob again. "I don’t know. But I think we should look for another way out." I motioned for him to follow me. "Come on. Let’s search this place."

Long, narrow windows near the ceiling let in some outdoor light but seemed too small and too high. Almost half an hour passed before Jax pointed at an old, cobweb covered trunk rested against one of the cinder-block walls. "Wonder what’s in there?"

I unlatched it and the heavy lid creaked and groaned as we both began lifting it.

"What are you looking for in there?" came a voice from behind.

Startled, I let go of the lid and spun around. Jax apparently did too because the trunk lid fell with a bang.

Sam stood holding a tray with two steaming bowls of soup and a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches. "Thought this might warm you both up some. Don’t have much to eat in the house right now. Planned on going shopping tomorrow. Sorry I don’t have a better guest room, but I rarely get any company these days."

"I didn’t hear you come in," I replied, inhaling the scent of chicken soup as the steam rose from the bowls.

Sam shoved some boxes out of the way and put the tray on one of the shelves, then set up a folded card table that had been leaning against the wall. "Just talked to Fred on the phone. Told him where on the road I’d picked you up and he wants us to meet him there tomorrow morning at 7:30. Should be light by then and hopefully the rain will have let up too."

"The soup smells great," I replied. Jax found two folding chairs and set them up by the table. I looked into Sam’s face. I had to know. "I thought I heard you lock the basement door earlier."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, that’s just a habit I have. I always lock it. Always have and probably always will."

The next morning when Jax and I turned the knob at the top of the basement steps, the door swung open. I could smell coffee brewing and bacon frying. We gobbled up the eggs, bacon and toast as if we hadn’t eaten in days. In fact, I think Jax ate more than I did!

The rain had stopped, but the clouds still hovered. The ride to the driveway where I’d turned off by mistake didn’t take that long. I was eager to see my car again and to go home. By the time we pulled off the road at the spot Sam had found us, an old yellow tow truck was creeping down the drive pulling my car behind. A sharp-nosed thin man, whom I assumed was Fred, stuck his head out of the driver’s side of the truck. His floppy hat was pulled low over his eyes and his red and black plaid jacket was buttoned up tight at his neck. With a gloved hand, he waved at us to follow him. "I’ll take her back to my place." There was someone sitting on the passengers side, but I couldn’t see him that well.

Sam nodded and we fell in behind. My car was dented in several places, but didn’t look seriously damaged. Why couldn’t I drive it away? What exactly was wrong with it? I kept my questions to myself, but couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling in my stomach.

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             (Part Eight)

"How far out does that mechanic friend of yours live?" The rain came down steadily again and the trees flew by along with an occasional farm house or vineyard. It was so dim for the middle of the afternoon that it seemed more like evening. I glanced at my watch: 2:35.

Sam chuckled at the question. "Oh, we’ll be there soon."

My stomach growled just as we turned off the road and started up a tree-lined, steep gravel road. Darkness surrounded us except for the car’s headlights as we bounced up the bumpy road. In spite of the heater, I hugged Jax close to me as a shiver ran up my spine.

The car slowed as we turned around a gigantic outcropping of rocks. A ranch-styled house loomed in the clearing. My voice caught in my throat. "Doesn’t look like anyone’s here."

"We’re home." He turned in his seat and looked at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "This is where I live."

My heart thudded in my chest. "I thought you said we were going to the mechanic’s."

Sam turned off the engine. "Well, after some more thought, I remembered Fred goes to church on Saturday. He won’t be available until tomorrow. You can stay at my place until then. I’ve got a nice guest room."

He hopped out of the car and flung open the back door. I shook my head. "We really can’t intrude."

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, grabbing Jax into his arms. He jogged through the rain to the small overhang by a side door of the house. I grabbed my purse and followed. Sam unlocked the door and reached around the corner. With a flick of a switch, the kitchen lit up. Still cradling Jax, he stopped and leaned against the wall, kicking off his boots before crossing the linoleum floor to the adjacent room. He lay the child gently on an overstuffed old couch and looked down at him. Seeing the spotless kitchen, I removed my own muddy shoes before tiptoeing up beside him. "No, I think we should go on back to town."

His face was no longer kind and friendly. "Listen, young lady. I’m not going out in this storm again tonight. You will stay here."

I took a step back, unsure what to say. Perhaps I was being rude. After all, he had waited for us at the hospital and this house looked neat and clean. One night here wouldn’t hurt anything. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be unappreciative."

"No worries." He turned and smiled down at Jax, who was still asleep, and gently removing the cap covering those dark curls, ran his huge hand over the child’s brow and threw the silky hair. Suddenly aware I was watching him, he cleared his throat and gathered Jax back up into his arms. "I’ll show you gals to your room."

Down the steep, creaky stairs to the basement, I followed. The musty, dampness made me cringe as we passed rows of canned goods and bags of rice and other food. At the far end of the basement, Sam flicked a switch, light up a room with an old double bed, a cane-backed chair pushed beneath a scarred desk and a small, three-drawer dresser. He laid Jax on the bed and pointed towards another door across from the room. "The bathroom is there. It has a small shower and there are towels on the shelves we just came past. There are a few boxes of old clothes out there too. You might find something dry that will fit in there. Settle in. I’ll go fix some hot soup for you all."

Jax groaned and opened his eyes. "Where are we? Kelly?"

I sat on the bed beside him. "I’m right here. It’s OK. We’re going to stay here tonight, then get the car pulled out tomorrow, if it ever stops raining."

I turned towards Sam, but he was gone. I heard a loud click from the top of the stairs. Jax’s voice quivered. "Where are we?"

"Sam’s place," I said, still staring at the stairs. "You wait here a minute. I’ll be right back."

I hurried through the row of shelves, taking the steps two at a time to the top. The round doorknob was cold to the touch as I grasped it. When I couldn’t turn it, my heart sank. Locked!

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                (Part Six)

I followed, anxious to know if Jax was OK and could explain the picture in the locket. He strode rapidly ahead of me down the hall to the examining room, then when we finally arrived, motioned me to enter before hurrying away. Relief flooded over me as I stepped into the room and saw Jax sitting up on the edge of a table. The doctor, stethoscope slung around his neck, finished taping a large bandage onto Jax’s right side, then smiled at me. "Hi, I’m Doctor Stiles."

Although his face was nearly free of wrinkles, his hair was entirely gray. Pale blue eyes met mine as I nodded. I looked at Jax, who had an impish look on her face, then looked over at the doctor. "Is she going to be OK?"

He stared at me, with a quizzical expression. "HE will be fine. Other than the lump on the other side of his head and this scrape I just bandaged on his rib-cage, he’s a healthy, albeit a little on the thin side, 10 or 11 year old boy. I’ve given him a pain reliever that might make him drowsy."

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. A boy? This was a boy? Jax sat there, a smug look on his face, shirtless. I had not thought anything of that fact when I’d come into the room, but now as he sat there, it was obvious he was a boy. The locket, that had been clutched in my hand, slipped out and fell to the floor.

Jax pointed at the metal necklace, wide-eyed. "Hey, that’s mine. Give it back!"

I bent over and retrieved it, laying it open in my hand. "Who is the person in the picture?"

He lunged forward and snatched it from me. "None of your business."

Dr. Stiles grabbed Jax’s shoulder and pulled him back so he wouldn’t tumble off the table. "Steady there, buddy. I don’t want you falling again so soon. You just take it easy for a while."

I looked straight into Jax’s bright blue eyes. "But it is my business." The Doctor stepped back, silently watching us. My voice was barely above a whisper. "I’m really curious how you came to have a picture of my mother in your locket."

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  Here's hoping the fires will be under control in Malibu soon.  Our firefighters are indeed our heros.  Look for the next episode on Wednesday or Thursday.

                                        (Part Five)

"What do you mean the child doesn’t have a last name?" demanded the registration nurse at the hospital.

I hadn’t thought about a last name, so I blurted out my own. "Comstock. Jax Comstock," I replied.

The nurse stared at me for several seconds before typing it on her keyboard. "Date of birth?"

How would I know that? I bit my lip and answered slowly. "Let’s see. October 15, 1996."

"Has she been in this hospital before?"

"No," I answered with confidence.

She glared up at me, her glasses riding down on her nose. "I don’t suppose you have insurance."

It wasn’t a question. I felt my face flush as I dug through my purse, extracting my own insurance card. "Here."

She carefully perused the card, front and back, before sliding back her chair and stalking off to the copy machine with it. When she returned, she slid two sheets to me. "Sign here and here and initial here, here, and here." She marked an X on several blanks and thrust a pen at me. It said that I had to agree to pay anything the insurance company wouldn’t cover. But would they cover Jax? I had to try.

Before I could finish signing, a male nurse appeared and asked me to follow him. As we started down the hall, he handed me an envelope. "Here are the contents from the child’s pockets."

I took the envelope and stopped, staring at it. Was Jax dead? Was that why they handed me her belongings? I opened it slowly and peered inside. A couple of pennies, a jack-knife and a round, silver locket on a delicate tarnished chain. I opened it, revealing a tiny picture on one side. Squinting at the miniature photo, I blinked several times. It just couldn’t be!

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                                   (Part Four)

"How did you come to live with those people on the hill?" I asked.

Jax seemed put out by the question. "I told you, I don’t know. I was too young when I went there. They told me my parents died in an accident, but I’m not so sure that’s true."

The patter of rain on the roof had dwindled to only a few drips. The storm appeared to be over. "Come on. Let’s get out of here," I said, gathering up my purse and umbrella.

"I won’t go back up there," Jax insisted.

"We’ll go down the hill instead. Maybe we can find help there," I told her as I stepped from the car. The sky was still gray and threatening, but we had to do something. "You can stay here if you want, but doing something is better than nothing."

As I stumbled down the hill, jumping over puddles and tree roots, I didn’t have to look back to know she wasn’t far behind. I came to a small river that raced across the path at an alarming rate. The other side seemed to far to jump so I stopped and looked up at the branches overhanging the trail.

"We should be able to walk across it. I don’t think it’s that deep," said Jax, standing at my side.

I smiled to myself. "Well, I don’t know..."

"I’ll go first and you can follow."

She took a step forward and I grabbed her arm. "First let me give you the end of this scarf, in case you get washed away." I unwrapped the long wool scarf I’d wrapped around my neck. She looked back at me as though she thought I was crazy, but took the end I’d offered.

Like a cat tiptoeing through a puddle, she picked her way through the fast stream, the water licking nearly up to her knee with each step. Half way through, she lifted her foot and catching the edge of a hidden root, tripped. But  with a yelp instead of hanging onto the scarf, she let go and slid off the road, down the hill. I stood in horror as she abruptly hit a giant boulder and became jammed. Just beyond her was the road below, winding downward. Not giving it a second thought, I took three giant leaps and landing on the other side of the water, followed the road as it twisted and turned until the stone loomed ahead.

I saw the crumpled figure of the child laying still, blood spilling from her head, her foot wedged between two rocks. Pulling the foot free, I gathered up the limp body into my arms and hurried along the path, oblivious to the slippery rocks and seemingly bottomless puddles. I couldn’t have run more than a half a mile before I heard cars whizzing by on the highway. When it came into view, I dropped to the ground with Jax still in my arms. I had to catch my breath. I had to check out her wound. She still lay unconscious, but as I pulled the cap from her head, I saw the nasty bruise on the side of her head. It was still bleeding some, but had begun to swell up as well. I had to get her to a hospital.

Head lights suddenly lit up the road as a car pulled off the side just behind us. A man leapt out and trotted up. "What’s going on here? Is someone hurt?"

"She fell and hit her head. I think she had a concussion" was all I could manage to utter, still trying to catch my breath.

He gathered her up and raced back to the car as I followed behind. "Let’s get her to a hospital."

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Only a couple of minutes had passed when the door reopened and the child jumped back in and slammed the door against the still-falling rain. She grabbed off her cap and the long, scraggily hair drooped to her shoulders. Her voice was stronger and her eyes defiant. "Looks like we’re stuck here."

Although questions needed answers, I said instead, "Maybe we should go on back up the hill and..."

"No!" she yelled, shaking her head.

"But they must have a phone. I could call a tow truck from there," I insisted.

"I won’t go back there with you. You can’t make me. Besides, they don’t have a phone anyway." She folded her arms across her chest and stared out the window.

I had to try another tactic. "My name is Kelly. I live over on the far side of the lake. What’s your name?"

"Everyone just calls me ‘Scat’."

I didn’t laugh, but I had trouble containing my smile. "Well, that’s an unusual name. Why do they call you that?"

She shrugged. "I don’t know. Just whenever I show my face for dinner or anything they’re doing that looks like fun, they yell at me, ‘Scat! Outta here.’ I don’t think they’ve ever used my real name."

"What is your real name?"

She played with the brim of the cap she held in her lap. "Jax."

"Really? I’ve never heard that name before. Is it a family name?"

This time, she looked at me with those deep blue eyes. "Don’t know," she said. She seemed to shrink into a tight ball, pulling her knees up to her chest and folded her arms around them.

"So, how old are you, Jax?"

"I’m not sure. I tried to figure it out once. Been there most of my life. Had seven, no eight Christmases with them. That’s all I know." She looked at me hard. "How old are you?"

I was taken aback by the question. "I’ll be twenty-one in October." I thought I saw a hint of a smile at my answer. I cleared my throat. "But they’ll surely know that you’re gone, won’t they?"

Jax straightened up in the seat and looked back out the window at the blurry rain. "They won’t really miss me, until some wood needs hauling or floors need scrubbing. I don’t belong there anyway. I want to find my real family."

Real family?

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I know that part is short but the next one, Part Four, is quite long.  So stay tuned on Monday for the further adventures of NOT LOST!

I probably sat there for several minutes trying to figure out what to do. There were no good choices. My forgotten cell phone sat in the charger at home. So sure I’d be home before this storm hit, I hadn’t bothered to bring a coat or even a hat. The old umbrella I kept in the car would be useless in this wind. But the worst part was that no one knew I had come out here and no one was expecting to see me until after the weekend – three days from now. I could walk on down the hill, but in this deluge, I’d be better off if I just stayed in the car. Or I could walk up the hill back to the old lady’s house. No, she probably didn’t even have a phone. And the idea of going back there – well, it just felt wrong. The best thing to do was just to stay in the car until morning and things would probably look a lot better by then.

But, I couldn’t help wondering if the car was really damaged or not. Wouldn’t hurt to take a look. So, I grabbed the empty litter bag and plopping it on my head, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut.

The car was hopelessly stuck between the two trees. One of the front headlights was smashed and the fender looked like a broken accordion. The back corner was dented in so far that I didn’t dare open the trunk for fear of not being able to close it again. As I worked my way around the car back to the drivers side, I slipped and landed on my knees in the cold muck. I struggled to my feet and lunged for the door handle, grabbing it even as my feet slid out from under me again in a rushing river of rain.

Back in the driver’s seat, I shook my head at my stupidity for ever getting out in the first place. What was I thinking? Now I was not only stuck, but I was cold and wet as well. I pulled the lever on the side of my seat and reclined back. Didn’t dare run the engine to warm up because there was only an eighth of a tank of gas left. Had to save that. The emergency blanket! I tugged it from under the passenger’s seat and hurriedly extracted it from its plastic zip bag. Even though it was thin and small, it was warm and dry. I wrapped myself in it and closed my eyes, listening to the rain pounding on the metal roof.

Something woke me with a start. I bolted upright in the car, banging my knees on the steering wheel, and cursing under my breath. The rain still beat on the roof of the car. A small whimper seemed to emulate from a tattered lump wedged on the floor behind the passenger’s seat. Didn’t remember putting anything back there. I reached back and grabbing a handful of the cloth, tugged. To my surprise, it pulled back, ripping the material out of my hand.

"What the...?" My voice seemed loud in the confined car.

"Stop," came a small voice.

A smudged, disgruntled face peered back at me. A child. Boy or girl? It emerged as if it had just been hatched, legs and arms unfolding and back straightening, as it settled on the back seat. When the dirty cap was pulled from the head, a mass of greasy curls fell onto the child’s shoulders. A girl, for sure.

"Who are you? And how did you get here?"

The child flipped a dangling lock from her eyes and looked out the window, instead of at me. "Been here most of the night. Have to go outside now."

Before I could respond, she flung the door open and bolted out, flipped the door partly shut. The wind had died, but the rain still fell, just not as hard. Even though I combed the area where she’d run to, there was no sign of her. Who was this strange child? And where had she come from?

So, stay tuned for the next episode on Wednesday or Thursday.....

                                                                                                 NOT LOST

"Lost, honey?" The old lady glared in at me through my window, making me want to zip it up and tromp the accelerator to the floor. Steel-gray strands of long hair fell over her bulging brown eyes as the pouring rain ran in rivers through the creases in her face. Her grin, with at least three teeth missing, was more of a grimace as she hunched over beside the half-open window.

I squirmed in the seat, sweat trickling down my back as those eyes scanned the car’s empty interior. Her hot, sour breath made me turn away, pretending to fiddle with my CD player. She stood there waiting, presumably for my answer. I cleared my throat. "Uh, no, no. I’m not lost. Just made a wrong turn. I’ll turn around now. Sorry to have disturbed you."

She glanced around as lights went on in the shack behind her and a man’s voice shouted something incomprehensible through the storm. A screen door slammed. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something dash across the yard behind my car.

The old lady licked her lips and leaned against my car window. "A young girl like yourself shouldn’t be out in a storm like this, especially alone. Don’t think you’ll make it back through the mud tonight. You can stay here," she said. With one long, crooked finger she pointed back at her front rickety screened-in front porch as she spoke, "We have a nice roll-away we can stick in the front room. The roof don’t leak hardly at all."

"No thanks. I’m sure I can make it back out," I said, flipping the heater to "high" as it suddenly felt really cold.

She finally backed away from the car and hobbled back towards the broken down shack. I zipped up the window and took two deep breathes. Thank God she was gone! I shifted into reverse, then twisted in the seat to see out the back window. Everything was a shadowy blur through the pouring rain.

Old tires and rusty car-body parts were heaped in small mounds here and there. Afraid I might hit something, I worked the car back and forth to get it turned around. A loud clank made me hit the brakes as I nudged a pile of rusty, dented hub-caps. One clattered to the ground as I pulled away, but I wasn’t about to stop and put it back. I tromped the accelerator and the wheels spun beneath me in the mud as the shack slowly faded from sight.

The drive that had been a pot-hole laden road on the way up was now a dark, muddy river. Clenching my teeth, I put the car in first gear, willing it to ford the rushing streams cutting across the trail. One small slip off the path and the sloping dark forest would swallow me up. I was sure I’d only gone a couple of miles up this road.

I hadn’t crept more than 500 feet when an enormous tree root stuck up in the middle of the road, the water running fast on either side of it. Hadn’t remembered that on the way up. I clutched the wheel and hit the brake. To my horror, the car slowly slid sideways in the road, thudding to a stop at a narrow point between two trees on either side. I cringed at the screeching of crunching metal as the rushing water wedged my car in tight. Well, at least I was still on the road. But I was not just stuck, I was trapped.

So, stay tuned for the next part on Monday, November 12.