Claire gripped her bag and contemplated her next move. She shouldn't have left Jane, not yet. She had Jane’s card; she could call her. Her voice and tone exposed her apprehension, “I really don’t want to go with you.” People began to stare.
Speaking in a hushed whisper, “Ms. Nichols, your ticket has been cancelled.” She shook her head in protest. “It’s all right.” Moving his lips near her ear, as to not be overheard, “Please settle down, your ticket was cancelled, because there’s a private plane coming for you.”
The security officer’s voice came through a long dark tunnel. The tunnel closed. Only blackness…
Although the world is full of suffering,
it is full also of the overcoming of it.
– Helen Keller
Chapter 2
Claire woke with a start, her eyes opened wide. The view was no different than from behind her closed lids -- darkness. Utilizing her senses she felt the softness of the sheets and luxurious pillows, smelled the faint aroma of lilacs, and heard only quiet. Her mind tried to replay the past twenty-four hours. There was too much to sort. Nevertheless, she knew without a doubt, this wasn’t her cell.
Trying desperately for visual confirmation she searched the penetrating darkness for light. Only a few feet in the distance, she located the illuminated display of a digital clock: 3:57 AM. For the past nine months she awakened every morning at 6 AM. Slowly her mind churned, she wasn’t on the twin mattress, not in her cell, and most importantly, no longer in Iowa. She was in California. The two hour time difference explained her early waking. It was almost six in Iowa.
Claire tried to close her eyes and enjoy the new comfortable surroundings, yet her mind swirled uncontrollably with a whirlwind of thoughts. Finally, she gave up and got out of bed. Although she wanted to go to the kitchen, she didn’t want to wake Amber, not after everything she’d done. Thinking about her new friend, a smile spread across Claire’s face. Truly, until yesterday, she and Amber had only met once face-to-face.
Wearing her new roommate’s t-shirt and shorts; Claire made her way to the adjoining bath. Pausing at the door frame, she pushed the light switch and viewed the room where she’d slept. Compared to her prison cell, the room was palatial, containing all the natural furnishings of a bedroom. The queen sized bed had a beautiful headboard covered in ivory fabric. Matching material graced taught boxed valances covering the top of each window. Long vertical wooden blinds kept the room dark, while sleek, modern bedside stands, dressers, and a desk lined the walls. The light golden hue of the blinds contrasted beautifully with the darker wood slats covering the floor. Strategically placed beige shag rugs added warmth and undoubtedly muffling sound.
Turning to the tile covered bathroom Claire smiled at the sink. It looked like a green glass bowl sitting upon a stand. Above the sink was a large framed mirror flanked on each side by lighted sconces. Claire paused, staring at her reflection. It looked different. Her eyes glistened with the realization -- it was the smile! It had been so long since she truly felt like smiling.
Claire assessed herself, she didn’t look as old as she felt. Although, the past three years had psychologically aged her beyond the chronological timetable, the more recent lack of sunshine undoubtedly benefited her skin. She remembered a time when she radiated with a bronze sun-kissed glow. She also remembered her hair lighter, both from the sun and highlights. Today her pale china complexion was surrounded by chestnut waves as her hair hung upon her back. It hadn’t been trimmed or cut in over a year.
Tip-toeing in stocking feet, Claire silently made her way into the hall. Near the entrance to her room were doors to other rooms. Last night she learned one was Amber’s office containing a desk, computers, and everything she needed to stay connected to her responsibilities at SiJo. Additional doors led to a den and an extra bedroom. Amber’s bedroom was on the other end of the condo.
Claire continued down the hall, into the living room, and through the archway to the cool kitchen. Everything looked perfect. Although she could, Amber didn’t employ a full time household staff. She reasoned, she enjoyed cooking, and often ate out. A cook would be underutilized. There was a woman who came twice a week to clean and do laundry.
Though early, Claire longed for real, non-prison coffee. She eyed the coffee maker upon the granite countertop. It was different than any she’d seen before, some kind of individual cup thing. Had making coffee changed that much in fourteen months? She tried desperately to decipher its operation. The metal stand by its side held multiple types of coffee and flavors in small sealed cups. After further investigation and exploration she surrendered and sat at the kitchen table. The quietness of the apartment combined with the freedom to move about as she wished allowed Claire’s mind to replay the past twenty-four hours. Staring through the windows into the dark predawn sky she remembered....
*****