Kansas.â
â Kansas? Thatâs as far away as the moon.â
âThe farther, the better.â Arlette handed Cary the plastic bag.
Cary looked in, then pulled out a wig with short brown curls.
âAnd I want you to have this.â Arlette held out a letter-sized envelope.
Reluctantly, Cary opened the flap, knowing what was inside. Twenty dollar bills. âI canât take this.â
âYes. You can. Itâs not all that much and you can pay me back.â
âButâ¦â Cary put the wig over her fist and stared at the brown curls.
âIf you feel yourself backing out, remember the last time he beat you and yell at him.â Arlette finished her tea and clattered the cup in the saucer. âGo to Kansas. Kelbyâs a good person, sheâll help. And she has a suggestion about your vision.â
âI donât even know where Kansas is,â Cary said darkly.
âLook it up on a map.â Arlette gave her a hug. âI have to get to work. You have to get out of here. And remember, do just what we talked about.â
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Cary didnât want to look Kansas up on a map. She looked around the bedroom sheâd put in a lot of time making just the way she wanted. Sheâd refinished hardwood floors, painted walls a pale bluish green, Sea Mint, it was called. Finding the right bedspread with the swirls of blue and green. Making curtains that matched. She didnât want to leave. This was her home.
When she started crying again, she told herself to suck it up and get in the shower. With the hot water sluicing over her, she followed Arletteâs advice and recalled the last time Mitch hit her. You bastard! Cary screamed it over and over and let the words echo around the yellow-tiled bathroom. The yelling energized her. If she could get mad, she was still alive. Soap foamed over bruises on her arms that would never be there again.
No more beating me up! I will tell the truth. I didnât fall down the stairs. He threw me . She washed her hair. Long, because he liked it long. She turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and patted herself dry, then used the towel to swipe the steam from the mirror. Standing naked in front of the sink, she awkwardly cut off her hair, gathered all the strands and put them in a plastic bag.
No more! Iâm through. Iâm leaving. Free! Iâm going to be free of you! She couldnât decide what to wear and finally dressed in pale denim jeans and a dark blue blouse. Making me quit my job . She blow-dried her jaggedly cut short hair and shook the curls loose on the brown wig Arlette had given her, then fitted it on her head. Turning me into a liar. Telling my friends I had the flu when you beat me so badly I couldnât get out of bed . Adding tinted glasses, she examined herself in the mirror. A stranger stared back, a skinny, owl-eyed stranger with a pale, frightened face.
With the money Arlette gave her and the money sheâd managed to hide away tucked in her wallet and the wallet in her purse, she was ready. She couldnât take anything that didnât fit in the purse, and it wasnât very large, just a shoulder bag big enough for wallet, sunglasses, cell phone, Kleenex, the paperback book she always carried, and a change of underwear. She didnât dare pack a suitcase or take extra clothes. Heâd know immediately that sheâd run and would be after her like a cat on a mouse. You wonât catch me this time, you sick bastard!
Using more makeup than she ever wore, she darkened the eyebrows of the stranger in the mirror, put blusher on her cheeks, mascara on her eyelashes and added bright red lipstick. She shrugged on her jacket, slipped the purse strap over her shoulder, and went to the kitchen. She couldnât take much or Mitch would notice, but she fixed two peanut butter sandwiches and put some instant coffee in a baggie. You bastard! I loved you! She opened the door