Page 6 of Dare You to Run
It was a tough pill to swallow, but she was right. From the first memory I can recall, I have never felt anything but love. Dad, Steph, Mom, all my grandparents, aunts and uncles. Even to this very day with all the cousins who look up to me like I’m some great superstar and treat me like one, there has never been a moment where I doubted their affection. But is it all overkill because they know how I came to be? Are they simply making upfor the fact that I now carry an evil that I wish would have died with Stephanie?
My stomach roils and I swallow down the bitter bile that rises in my throat. My eyes begin to grow weary and my heart hurts like never before. Not when Steph died, not when I thought Mom and Dad broke up, not even when Dad was in his horrible accident. This right here, knowing who my birth mom really is, is a pain like no other.
I make a left turn onto a quiet street, one you’d find in anytown, USA, and pull to a stop in front of the cream and coral colored house with palm trees in the front yard. Its manicured lawn is envious with its tropical flowers and hedges, and the large entryway gives that awe effect.
I turn off the engine and slowly slide out of the driver's seat, then inch my way to the front door. Taking a deep breath, I press the doorbell. I can hear the chime echo in the house and I wait for the blurry image to appear behind the obscured glass door.
The locks click and the door swings open, and a gray haired woman with a large smile stands at the threshold.
“Oh Dagen. What a surprise. Oh my goodness, I can hardly believe my eyes. Derek! Your grand-daughter is here.” She reaches out to hug me and I step back, holding my hand in front of me.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss and her face scrunches in confusion. “You make me sick. How could you?”
“Dagen?” a deep voice calls as Derek walks up behind Susan. “Don’t talk to your grandmother that way.”
“She’s no grandmother of mine. And you’re no grandfather. You’re sick, twisted people who raised a vile human being.”
“Now you stop it, young lady. I will not have you coming to my home and speaking to us that way.” His voice grows stern with warning as if I’d be afraid of him.
My hands ball into fists and I feel the rage begin to work its way up my body. “You raised a rapist and helped cover up her disgusting behavior and sentenced my Dad to misery. You two should be in jail and if Stephanie were alive, I’d help throw her in there too.”
“That’s it!” Derek yells as Susan begins to cry. “What lies have they fed you? That horrible woman who your–”
“That my Dad cheated with? Yeah. Nice try but I know that’s a lie. And they have fed me no lies. In fact, it wasn’t until I overheard them talking about how you were going to tell me Dad cheated on Stephanie with Mom unless they convinced me to come down here for the summer that I finally learned the truth. They’ve done everything to protect me. To protecther, and all you’ve done is lie to me. My entire life.”
“That is absolutely false. I knew that man would try to brainwash you against your mother. He did that their entire marriage. And I told Stephanie she should leave him, but he wouldn’t go,” Derek tries to defend.
I scoff. “Really? So then who was that man that mom would always take me to see? The one that we had to keep our little secret. The one that came to see her on the day she died?” Their mouths work to find a lie, but I guess they’ve run all out of shit to spew. “I hate you. I will never forgive you for what you did, and I’m glad she’s dead because if she wasn’t, I’d want to choke her myself just to watch the life drain out of her evil eyes.”
A hand collides with my face in a loud thwack and it burns. I look at Susan who gasps and holds her hand over mouth.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she says, her voice shaking.
I take two more steps back and glare at them. “That is the last time you will ever touch me. And this is the last time you will ever see me. I never want to hear from you again. You areboth dead to me. When you die, I hope you rot in hell like your horrible daughter.”
My feet move quicker to get me away from them.
Derek shouts my name and I spin, running to my car. The second time in as many days that I find myself running from my problems. I jump in the driver’s seat and stab at the ignition button like it’s done me wrong. There’s a pounding on my windows and I look over to see Susan standing there with tears rushing over her lids and her lips trembling.
I roll it down and she pleads, “Dagen Rayne. Please just come inside so we can talk. I don’t want you to leave like this.”
I shake my head slowly and explain, “The time to talk was twenty-one years ago when you found out what your daughter had done. The time to talk was twenty-one years ago when a nineteen year old boy was scared out of his mind that he’d lose the child he never wanted with a woman he hated. There’s nothing left to say except goodbye. Don’t ever call me again. You’ll never see or hear from me, and I don’t ever want to hear from you. Try repenting in this life so that maybe you have a chance to go to a better place when your time's up on earth. I can assure you that your daughter won’t be there to greet you, but maybe you can gain some forgiveness from God because you’ll never have mine.”
I roll the window up and watch her grab at her chest as she continues to cry. I look back once more at the grandparents I thought I knew, then bury their memory deep, never to be mourned or thought of again.
TWO
I didn’t thinkI had anymore tears left to cry after yesterday and this morning, but it seems I was wrong.
After leaving the people formerly known as my grandparents, I decided I needed to put some actual food in my stomach before making the long drive back home. I never wanted to set foot in Florida again, but if I didn’t eat I’d end up stuck in the hospital from either getting in an accident or exhaustion.
I pulled up to my favorite local restaurant, ordered my favorite meal for probably the last time, and then sat in my car eating, working up the strength and courage to call my parents. When I had enough food that I felt like I could steady my hand long enough to tap the screen, I made the call that I’ve dreaded for almost twenty-four hours.
It rang twice before Dad answered.“Are you okay, baby bird?”is what he asked me instead of yelling which, honestly, is what I deserved.
But I should’ve known better. Dad isn’t a yeller. He’s a listener and a thinker and I can count the number of times he’s raised his voice to me on one hand. I can tell you I only need onefinger for the number of times he raised his voice to Mom. He’s never tried that again and I can guarantee he never will.
“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”The tears began immediately upon hearing his tender voice.
