At fifteen and a half, Angela started dyeing her hair different colors. In a way, it was the only thing she had any say over. She got piercings. With change she collected from the floor and couches in the trailer she could buy clothes from the thrift store and put them together in a way that in addition to her dyed hair and piercings gave her a forbidding look.
The kids at school were already leery of her. She was the girl who had messed up the face of a much older, popular girl. Now she, too, was older, and bigger. She didn’t take crap from anyone. On top of that, they thought she was a freak, and, because of the standoffish way she acted, possibly crazy. She had no friends. All of that kept them all far away from her.
As far as Angela was concerned, mission accomplished.
She knew that no one was going to protect her. No one was going to help her. She was going to have to protect herself.
In the back of her mind, she knew she had to get away from her mother and the trailer park. To do that, she would need to get older. When she turned sixteen she could get her driver’s license. But she would need a car. Realizing that a car was ultimately her only real salvation, getting money to buy a car became her central goal.
She was able to get a job with a housecleaning service, working a few hours every day after school without being missed much at home. She saved every dime she earned toward a car. Once she could drive and had a car, she would be able to get away.
Because she worked hard at the cleaning service, a manager at a clothing store offered her a job on weekends stocking shelves. Her savings continued to build. She gladly accepted tips she received from some of the people she cleaned house for.
The only money she wouldn’t take was the cash some of the men who abused her would push at her. It was their way of taking the crime out of what they did. If she was selling herself, then they weren’t really raping her. She always refused the money they offered. If they left money in her room, she put it out on the coffee table. She was not about to absolve them of their crime.
Her school had a driver education course, and when she turned sixteen she got her license through the course. As soon as she had her license, she went to a car dealership she had visited a few times previously. With the money she saved, she bought the car she had been eyeing and could afford. It was a well-used silver Honda, but to her eyes it was the most beautiful car in the world, not because she cared about the car itself, but because it meant escape from the abuse.
The day she picked up the car, she drove to the trailer park and packed up her things while her mother was sleeping off a party. There wasn’t much she really cared about, and she didn’t want Boska to come home and catch her, so as soon as she had the basics together in a couple of black plastic bags, she left for the cabin.
Before she left, she wrote a brief note, telling her mother that she was moving away and would not be back.
Driving up to the cabin and seeing those two mountains, one to either side, felt like the warm embrace of her grandparents. She knew she was at last safe. The first thing she did when she got inside the cabin was to load the Walther P22. If they figured out where she was and Boska came to haul her back to the trailer, she intended to blow his brains out.
Angela didn’t worry about her mother coming to bring her home. She was a lot stronger than her mother, and besides, her mother was more likely to smoke some crack as her reaction to the situation than come get her. Drugs were her answer to everything.
Once she put her things away in the bedroom, Angela sat down on the bed and cried with grief that her grandparents weren’t there, and cried with joy that she had finally escaped the abuse at home.
As it happened, there was no need to worry about Boska. He was unexpectedly killed in a motorcycle accident. He ran a stop sign running from the police and was broadsided by a woman in a minivan.
Karma was a bitch.
FIFTEEN
The next time one of those unexpected mental doorways opened was several years after she had moved to the cabin. She had made sure to keep her grades high enough that she was able to graduate high school. Being out of high school was a huge relief. Graduation was a joyful event, because it meant formally leaving the misery of childhood behind.
Angela had always thought of herself as an adult trapped in a child’s body. At long last, her body and mind had reached parity. She was truly an adult, even if not legally until she was twenty-one.
Being done with school and on her own, she was finally able to work full-time. One of the houses she cleaned was for a couple who were both lawyers. Mr. and Mrs. Bollard appreciated the job Angela did at their house, so they asked her to clean their office as well. Since they were pleasant and treated her fairly, Angela was happy to do it.
One day, as she was emptying wastebaskets, she overheard Mr. Bollard telling his wife that he needed to get some papers across town. They were debating how they would do it, since it was urgent they get some signatures but neither could leave the office right then.
Angela straightened. “I’ll do it.”
The both looked up at her. “What?” Mr. Bollard asked.
“I’d be happy to do it.” When they stared at her for a moment, she added, “I have a courier service,” she lied. “I can deliver the papers for you.”
They shared a “why not?” look with each other. Mrs. Bollard slid the papers into an envelope, wrote a name and address on it, and handed the manila envelope to Angela.
“Ask him to sign the papers. When he’s done, please bring them right back here.”
“No problem,” Angela said.
After that, they gradually came to depend on her to deliver things like court documents on a regular basis. One day when she brought a package to them, Mr. and Mrs. Bollard asked her to sit down.
“You do know that you’re charging half the going rate other courier services charge, don’t you?”
Angela shrugged. “It’s enough to cover my costs and make me some money. I appreciate the work and I’m satisfied with what I make doing it. It’s an attractive enough price that you keep using me instead of anyone else. You’re happy, I’m happy.”
Mr. Bollard leaned back in his leather chair and tapped a finger on the armrest as he studied her face.
“You’re more than you appear.”
Angela frowned. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “You look … well, you don’t exactly look like the determined and meticulous young woman you really are.”
Angela frowned. “Are you unhappy with something I do?”
“No,” he said. “No, not at all. It’s just that we’ve learned we can depend on you. You don’t screw up. You get contracts and papers where they need to go, when they need to be there.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“You don’t have a business license, do you?”
“Well …”
“Insurance?”
“I have insurance.”
“I don’t mean on your car. I mean, do you have a business license and business insurance? Are you insured and bonded? Did you post a bond to have a courier service?”
Angela let out a sigh. She didn’t have any of that. She imagined that the money she made with her new courier service was about to evaporate.
“No,” she admitted.
He appraised her for a time, considering something.
“You do a good job, Angela, taking care of our house, and the office, as well as the other places you clean, and you always get documents where they need to go on time, and get them back to us on time. But you need to have a business license if you are going to do this kind of service for us, and you need to be bonded to have a courier service. We’re lawyers. We can’t use you without everything being legal.”
Angela could feel herself sinking into her chair. “I see.”
“I’ll tell you what. My wife and I can handle all the legal matters. You’ll need to have an official business name and the money for the bond, but we can take care of the paperwork and filings for you so that you don’t get into legal trouble.”
Angela sat up straighter. “You would do that for me?”
“Sure,” Mrs. Bollard said. “You’ve helped us out of spots enough times.”