The Polygamist's Daughter

I felt like I might get whiplash from my zealous efforts to make sure nobody was following me. I battled brief moments of hesitation, but the will to live on my own terms compelled me onward. Part of me fled the horrible fate that awaited me in Denver, but the other part ran toward something better. Part of me knew escaping Dan’s clutches would bring other problems, potentially far greater than those I’d experienced thus far. But with every step I took toward Lillian’s house, I felt a greater sense of freedom.

The lifting of that emotional burden buoyed my spirits, giving me hope where I’d had none. Though I didn’t have a clue about what the future held, I felt certain I had better prospects with Mark and Lillian than with Dan Jordan, and that compelled me to keep walking. I passed dilapidated buildings with pawnshops and check-cashing stores. I passed by a donut shop and a taqueria and other fast-food joints, wishing I had brought some money with me. My tummy growled unhappily.

The smells of Houston —mainly gasoline and oil —filled my nostrils. I noticed how filthy the streets were; cigarette butts, fast-food wrappers and containers, receipts, flyers, dead insects, and gum littered the gutters and sidewalks. A few store owners emerged to sweep sidewalks in front of their shops. One heavyset man with a giant handlebar mustache greeted me. I simply nodded and kept going.

After walking nearly an hour and covering a little over three miles, I finally spotted Lillian’s car coming toward me on the busy street. She honked and then pulled into the parking lot of a car repair place right in front of me. I jogged toward her beige station wagon and watched as she reached across the seat to unlock the passenger-side door. I scrambled into the car as quickly as I could, and when I buckled myself in, the fear and tension that had gripped me began to subside.

I offered Lillian the best smile I could muster. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.” Then I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, feeling relief flood over me. I’m safe. The magnitude of what I’d chosen to do suddenly weighed heavy on my heart.

Lillian reached across the seat and patted me tenderly on my leg. “How are you? You doing okay?” Her brow furrowed and her eyebrows knotted tightly. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through this —having to make this choice. But you are very brave, Anna. You’ll make it. I know you will.”

I stared at her. How can she know that? Mom could be coming after me right at this moment. I shuddered at the thought.

As if she could read my thoughts, Lillian pulled out of the parking lot and got back on the road. “We need to go. You’re not safe out here in the open.”

“Are we going back to your house?”

“Oh, no! That’s the first place they’ll look for you.”





LILLIAN STOPPED AT A DONUT SHOP and bought me glazed donuts and a carton of milk. I gulped them down, the food satisfying more than just my physical hunger. Lillian smiled at me as we continued toward her house. When she turned into the entrance of a La Quinta Inn, I looked at her. Why are we stopping here? Lillian pulled into a parking space, turned off the car, leaned her head on her arms resting on the steering wheel, and sighed deeply.

Finally, she lifted her head and turned to face me. “You’re going to have to stay here for a couple of days. Can you do that?”

“I —I guess so.” I glanced around at a few run-down cars in the parking lot. A man with long, stringy hair and an unkempt beard emerged from one of the ground-floor rooms. He fumbled with the door, locking it behind him before weaving his way to his bright yellow Volkswagen Bug. I didn’t relish the idea of running into him any time soon. “Why can’t you take me to your house?”

“I told you. My house is too obvious. I need to be able to look your mom or anyone else in the eyes and honestly tell them you’re not there.”

“Okay, I understand.” If only I had grabbed my camera or one of my stuffed animals to bring with me.

I hated the thought of being in a strange place. “But what if I get hungry?” I wanted to add “or lonely,” but I held my tongue.

“I’ll come up with some excuse to get out of the store later, and I’ll bring you something to eat.” Lillian opened the car door and slid out.

I followed her silently into the lobby, and we walked to the front desk, where Lillian dinged a little bell to summon the desk clerk. Moments later, a heavyset woman waddled through a door behind the counter. “Need a room? Just the two of you?”

“Yes, please.” Lillian glanced at me, reminding me to keep silent.

I understood. She doesn’t want this woman to know I will be staying in the room by myself.

Lillian paid in cash, and the clerk slid a key toward her. “Room 207. It’s up the stairs at the far end of the building.” Then she placed several towels on the counter. “Fewer of them disappear when we do it this way.” She smiled.

I scooped up the towels, and Lillian picked up the key. “What time is checkout?”

“Noon. And if you decide to stay another night, make sure you come back to the front desk and pay for it by then. Otherwise, housekeeping will come knocking on your door.”

Lillian nodded. “I will.”

I followed my sister as she turned and pushed open the door we had just come through. Lillian wasn’t heading to the car but to the far outside stairwell of the motel. When we got to room 207, she handed me the key. “Here, you open it.”

I slid the key into the doorknob and turned it. Thankfully, the door opened easily. The room was clean, although the décor was somewhat dated. I sat on the bed, picked up the remote control, and clicked on the TV, instantly transported to Gilligan’s Island.

“Where did you put the key?” Lillian asked.

I fished into the right front pocket of my jeans and felt the hard plastic key chain.

“Always put the key on the nightstand when you come into the room. That way you won’t lose it.”

Lillian took the towels into the bathroom, which passed her inspection. She walked to the window that overlooked the parking lot, pulled back the drapes enough to see outside, then closed them even tighter. “Don’t open these,” she warned.

“Okay. I promise.” Suddenly, the room seemed stiflingly hot. “Can I turn on the air-conditioning?”

Lillian lifted the metal covering on the control panel for the air-conditioning and heat. She turned the knob a couple of clicks to the right, and the stuffy space began to cool down.

I lay down on the bed, exhausted from everything that had transpired in the last few hours.

My sister sat down next to me and squeezed my shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

Did I have a choice? “Yes. Just come back soon . . . please.”

“I will.” Lillian kissed my forehead, then stood and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. I promise.”

The door clicked shut, and my heart sank. What have I done? I didn’t have enough energy to cry, and I didn’t want to think too much or I’d get scared. Sleep seemed the best option, so I snuggled up under the covers, the TV still droning softly in the background, and tried to turn off my brain.



Hours later, I woke up groggily. What is that? Is someone knocking?

“Anna?” The knocking paused, then began more frantically. “Anna!”

I quickly got up, went to the door, and looked through the peephole into the hallway. Lillian was just about ready to bang on the door again. I opened it immediately.

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