Consequences: Consequences, Book 1

Although that sounded wonderful, Claire was surprised by Catherine’s concern. “Catherine, I have no plans for that. First, I wouldn’t do that to you. I can only imagine Mr. Rawlings’s reaction if I didn’t return. And second, his reaction. I can truthfully say if I left I would be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life,” which, she didn’t say audibly, she believed deep in her soul may not be very long. “I just want to explore and be outside, away from everything. Mr. Rawlings gave me permission to go into the woods. I have done it before. I just want to be out longer, without concern for curfews. Besides, we both know that this conversation is being recorded. I promise to return. If I don’t, he will see that it was I who lied, you just believed me. But I promise I will be back.”


There was a spark in Claire’s green eyes. The same eyes that only yesterday were red, swollen, and lifeless. Catherine said that Claire would have her lunch and water packed in a few minutes, but asked that she be back by six for dinner. Claire promised she would. As soon as Catherine left the room, Claire went to the dressing table and found her watch. She didn’t want to disappoint her.

That morning Claire abandoned her strategy of dissecting the woods. She remembered the large clearing with the flowers and headed in that direction. In the past she only went as far as the clearing, today she planned to go beyond it.

She found the clearing right where she thought it would be. The heat of the summer transformed the green grass into long brown straw, only the weeds were green. Claire didn’t mind, the weeds had pretty colorful flowers. Unlike Tony’s flowers, which had been sentenced to his yard, gardens, or clay pots, these flowers grew free wherever they wanted. Furthermore, weeds were survivors. When all else died, the weeds remained. Yes, Claire liked weeds. She glanced at her watch. She’d reached the clearing by ten in the morning.

When she left the house there was a slight chill, so she brought a sweatshirt. With steadily increasing temperatures now its only purpose was to sit upon. She laid it out in the middle of the clearing and sat. A faint breeze blew her hair and caused the leaves of the trees to rustle. Even though it was only the beginning of August, due to the recent dryness the leaves were beginning to change.

That bothered her. She moved, or was brought, to Iowa in March. At that time, the leaves hadn’t formed and now they were beginning to change. Time slipped away from her and she couldn’t hold on. It made her think of a soap opera her mother used to watch. The opening said something like, “Sands through the hour glass . . .”

She laid her head on the hard ground and gazed at the open sky. There were a few white fluffy clouds. The expanse of the sky glowed blue and clear. The longer she lay immobile, the more she blended into the surroundings. First she noticed the butterflies that fluttered just above the grass. Then she saw the chipmunks. One would run around a tree, the next would run up the tree, chasing and being chased. Eventually she sat up, opened one of her water bottles, continued to sit and contemplate.

Once she stepped through the trees, leaving the confines of Tony’s backyard, Claire believed she escaped the range of his top-notch security. It felt like being released from a prison. Even the air smelled sweeter as she inhaled and relaxed. She smiled at the irony, definitely feeling more secure, without security.

She didn’t look at her watch, enjoying her freedom. After much consideration she decided to head west, northwest. There was no reason for that direction, more of a yearning, but it was solely hers, so she did it. She walked and walked. Close to the earth, she experienced a coolness that comes only from the shade of very tall trees. When she looked up, the trees reminded her of a kaleidoscope. The blue sky radiated beyond the ever-changing design of leaves. Since she hadn’t checked the time when she left the clearing, she didn’t know how long she had walked when she reached the shore.

The lake wasn’t big, but then again it wasn’t small. She could see the other end, a distance away. Nothing but nature surrounded the water in every direction. Looking down as she stood on the shore, her boots stood upon thousands of small smooth pebbles. Suddenly, she wondered if she could skip one. Remembering from childhood, she knew it needed to be smooth. It took her three tries, but she did it. It skipped four times, each hit going a little deeper, creating a slightly larger ring upon the water. The rings grew until they faded into the waves of the lake. For the first time in days she felt hungry.

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