Preacher's Daughter

Prologue

June 16, Five Years Ago

N/E Philadelphia

It was Rachael Collins’16th birthday and she stood inside her bedroom staring at the image in the mirror. At this point in her life, a thing of beauty she was not, she was all pimply faced with thick braces and short-cropped blonde hair. She wore blue jeans, sneakers, and a superhero tee-shirt with a stylized superhero emblem on it she had borrowed from her best friend Clark who lived next door to her and meant to give the shirt back to him, but she liked it so much she had forgotten about it. At a quick glance, a stranger would mistake her for a boy, even though that was not her intent, not really.

Deep down, she knew she wouldn’t always look like this, the pimply face would clear up, and she only needed the braces on her teeth for a little over a year to straighten a few teeth, and the pixi-haircut she had to make her look more like a boy (an action she immediately regretted) would eventually grow back, and certain physical features would begin to fill out more than they currently were… maybe… eventually… she hoped.

Granted, she was a bit of a tomboy, she wasn’t interested in other girls, and her parents hoped that that was something she too would grow out of. While she wasn’t big on having too many boyfriends either, there was that guy next door, Clark Johnson who was exactly one hour older than she was, and despite her not even being in the running for being the most attractive girl on the block was kind of sweet on her, and it was his clothes that she sometimes wore.

Her room was situated so that they could look into one an-others room, and he could see what she was doing and vice-versa. They grew up together and were inseparable and knew deep down that when they were old enough, would be able to marry. If only it could happen today on her birthday, but she knew that wouldn’t be the case, but there were always other birthdays she could get married on.

“Hey,” Carolyn, her mother said in a deep British brogue as she peered into her room, she was slightly taller than Rachael was, but minus the pimples and the braces, and her hair was long and a brilliant blonde in many ways she looked like she was some sort of a beauty queen. In many ways, it was a look Carolyn knew deep down that Rachael would support once Rachael was past this extended awkward stage. “We can’t start the party without you.”

“I know mom,” In Rachael’s mind, looking at her mother was a bit like looking into her own future, and she knew that one day she would bear the same beauty as her mother, which included ample sized breasts and a body most 35-year-old women would kill for, despite having two children, but for today she didn’t feel very beautiful, not with the mishap of her bad haircut she had given herself and the ill fit braces on her teeth.

“Clark is down there waiting for you, as well.” Carolyn placed her fingers under Rachael’s chin and nudged her head upward, so she was at least looking in her general direction, rather than the floor.

“Is “Mother” there,” Rachael frowned, her eyes cast a glance back towards the ground, “or will we be sending a plate of stuff over to her? Please say we’ll be sending a plate over to her--.”

Carolyn felt for her daughter, and knew she had her own reasons for disliking Clark's mother, some very harsh but legitimate reasons where the police had become involved. “Clark’s mother will be there.”

“Frack!”

“Just be warned; while it’s one of her better days physically, it’s not socially or mentally.”

“Frack!”

“Rachael,” Carolyn looked at her daughter with a look of surprise, “you know what we say about cursing.”

“It’s…not really cursing, just pretty darned close,” Rachael rolled her eyes, “why does “Mother” have to be there?”

“For what it’s worth, she is almost ready to die,” Carolyn said unconvincingly.

“Again?” Rachael asked. “Isn’t this some sort of an annual thing with her?”

“It seems that way,” Carolyn sighed, “and speaking of an annual thing, it’s about time to get downstairs for your birthday party,”

“Okay,” Rachael said.

Dawn Collins was 11 years old with long strawberry blonde hair and sat at the table that contained a large sized cake with the numbers 1 and a 6 sitting next to one another, at the end of the table sat her father, while across from her sat a creepy old fossil of a woman that looked like a dried-up piece of fruit with long stringy hair that reminded her of a corpse, a corpse that moved and spoke like the Crypt-keeper.

“I wish to God she would hurry up,” Doris, the elderly woman said sharply, “I don’t want to be sitting here all day waiting for that little bitch to decide to come down to her own birthday party.”

Andrew heard just about enough, he stood so that he towered over Doris. “I’m sure Rachael will be down in a minute.”

“But I’ve got better things to do,”

“Like what,” Dawn mumbled, “Is it past your bedtime?”

“Why you little bitch!” Doris raised her hand to hit Dawn.

“Go on, do it!” Dawn quickly said as she motioned to her cellphone that was sitting on a tripod, recording everything, not there was much to record, until Doris raised her hand to her. “It will make this video go viral so fast your head will spin.”

Doris looked to see Rachael bouncing into the room with a cheery look, she composed herself quickly, oblivious to what the cellphone was all about, “well-l… it’s about time!”

Rachael looked at the old woman as the cheery look she had forced herself to put on coming down the stairs disappeared, and she wound up in a stare. “Excuse me?”

“Let it go,” Clark, who was standing off to the side said as he sat down at one of the two empty seats, then motioned for Rachael to sit down, “please.”

“OK,” Rachael sat down with a pout as she stared at Doris, while she didn’t really hate anybody, at that moment she felt what it was like to hate someone.

“Let’s make this shindig quick,” Doris barked out, “and get this nonsense over with!”

“You know what,” Clark said as he grabbed the handles of Doris’ wheelchair and pushed her out the front door much to her protest, “I’m going to take mom home, I’ll be back in a few.”

Andrew waited for Clark to disappear then began to go through his mail.

“Mom,” Dawn asked, “why is she like that?”

“Because she’s a crazy old bitch,” Rachael said quickly, before anybody could stop her.

“Rachael,” Carolyn scolded, “be nice.”

“But it’s true,”

“For the most part I agree with you,” Andrew said as he opened a letter from a banker friend he knew, “and this is the last straw concerning her. Remember me saying about that banker buying up that abandoned town along the Pennsylvania/New York border?”

“Yes,”

“Well, he’s giving me first dibs on a house up there where I can buy it from him for a song.”

“When is this going to happen?”

“The properties are up for grabs now,”

“If we go,” Rachael had a worried, but prayerful look on her face, “will Clark be able to go with us?”

“Therein lies the problem,” Andrew said, “he’s more than welcome to come with us, but he would have to do something about his mother.”

“So, he would simply have to put her in a nursing home,” Carolyn suggested, “we can do that… because I don’t want to separate Clark and Rachael for too long. After all, they’ve known one another since birth, and we’ve been guiding them towards a certain… relationship.” Carolyn traced her thumb over her own wedding ring suggestively.

“I know,” Andrew said, “but at best she only has a couple of months anyway.”

“She could become better and hang on for a while,” Rachael said with a sigh, “like she’s done over and over again.”

“Yes,” Andrew groaned, “but I think this time she’s going to die soon for sure.”

“We can only hope,” Rachael mumbled under her breath, then her voice got loud. “SO, when are we going to make this big move?”

“By the end of the month,”

Rachael looked up to see Clark standing at the doorway to the dining room.

“What happens by the end of the month?”

“Clark,” Andrew motioned to the chair he was sitting in earlier, “sit down, we have something to discuss with you.”

“I’m not going to like this,” Clark said as he noticed that Rachael was getting teary eyed, “am I?”

“It’s like this,” Andrew said, “we’ve decided to move, but we want to try to take you with us.”

“I can’t just up and move,” Clark said, “I’ve been obligated to stay with mom until she dies, whether she dies tonight or five years from now she just literally made me sign a legal agreement to that effect.”

“What about your sister?”

“Even though she is much older and more equipped to deal with her, she doesn’t want to deal with mom long term,” Clark said, “and putting mom in a nursing home she would fight against it to the very end.”

“I figured as much,” Andrew said, “but here’s the thing, it could be for only a few months. When we move, we’ll keep in contact with you, we’ll get you all of our contact information when we get it together. That’s a promise.”

“Email and Facebook,” Rachael suggested, “we can email one another.”

“I don’t have a computer,” Clark said, “you know that.”

“Through your cell phone,” Rachael waved her hand at Clark’s cellphone, “dummy.”

Clark looked at his cellphone, while he didn’t have the latest model, he did have an Android, “that’ll work.”

A few days pass, with most of it being spent with the Collins family packing boxes and getting ready to move. Andrew stood at the base of Doris’ bed with Clark and Rachael standing close by.

“Mrs. Johnson, I do wish you would reconsider. Clark is not qualified to serve as a full-time caretaker, and you would be better off in a proper nursing home, where they can look after you much better so that he could come and live with us.”

“That is not going to happen,” Doris barked, “I don’t care what happens to Clark after I die, really I don’t care in the least, but for right now I want him to stay right here with me.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Listen,” Doris waved a legal looking piece of paper in the air, “I made Clark sign this promise that he will stay here in this house until I die and that he will not put me into a nursing home. He will also not make any contact with you in any way shape or form.”

“What?” Both Rachael and Clark barked.

“Yo!” Rachael added. “That’s low, even for you.”

“You can’t make sure that’s not going to happen,” Clark continued.

“I can and I will,” Doris said.

“Are you sure your mother is of sound mind?” Rachael asked.

Clark shrugged. “Probably not.”

“If you assholes think I've gone completely crazy,” Doris screeched out, “think again!”

Rachael began to say something off the cuff, and certainly to the point.

“To be sure,” Clark said, “I will honor what you have written on that document. But the moment you die…all bets are off.”

“Like I said, I don’t care what happens to you when I die,” Doris stare at Clark with wild eyes,

It was the last day of the month, and during the previous week, Clark, Rachael, and Andrew all tried in their own ways to get Doris to let them put her into a nursing home, but to no avail, although she did back down a little bit on them being in contact with one another, besides Doris had no concept of how to work Clark’s cellphone, and Clark was given a second hand laptop that connected to the internet vial the cellphone’s hot-spot. Now the Collins family stood in front of the moving van ready to pull out. Clark came rushing up, there was something in his hand.

“Almost missed saying goodbye,” Andrew teased, but truth be told he would have waited until Clark did show up.

“I went somewhere to get you something,” Clark pulled out a ring, “it’s just a piece of costume jewelry from the thrift store--.”

“Clark,” the ring was nothing special, just a piece of cheap costume jewelry, but to her, it was the most special thing in the world, especially if it meant what she thought it meant, “it’s perfect.”

“I want you to wear this all the time, I guess what we can call it--.”

“Call it what it is,” Carolyn smiled, “an engagement ring.”

“More of a pre-engagement ring,” Clark replied.

“There’s nothing “pre” about it,” Andrew chuckled, “and hey, it’s OK if you want to call this an engagement.”

Clark gave Andrew a passive nod but spoke to Rachael. “Wear this all the time, and when we’re able to come together, whenever that is, we’ll replace it with something more substantial. That is, if you’ll still want to get married at the time.”

“You know I will,” even through the thick braces, Rachael smiled.

“Hey,” Clark said, “can you guys at least tell me the name of the town where you’re moving to?”

“It’s not even properly named yet,” Andrew said, “just remember that it’s around the middle point of the northern border of Pennsylvania near the Pennsylvania/New York border around the Tioga River.”

“OK,”

Rachael sat in the middle of the moving van with Dawn sitting on her lap, she let him take a few pictures of her with his cellphone but had to go. Her father did the driving, she watched in the rear-view mirror as Clark’s image grew smaller and smaller. “I promise to keep myself for you and keep away from sexual contact from any one until such time that you and I can come together properly. I make this vow in the presence of my father and mother.”

Clark, I know you may never receive this letter, but I am attempting to write you for a third time. It has been two years since my departure from the city and your loving presence. A lot has happened in those two years, the biggest is the fact that the entire town was renovated, and the house (which admittedly looks like it’s lifted straight out of the Waltons) is now complete. The town was given the name “Calvary Hill” because of two factors, the first that the town is situated on a hill, and there is a large gleaming cross outside the town church that can be seen even before you enter the town.

I wish you were here; we just had my 18th birthday party and…well…, let’s just leave it at I really wish you were here if you know what I mean. So, remember about a week before my 16th birthday I took to cutting my hair? Well, it’s grown back, and the braces are gone. I’ve enclosed a picture of myself. I haven’t lost that tomboy demeanor yet though, although, I think at this point it’s more of a defense against certain unwanted interaction (if you know what I mean), but it’s more lady-like than a few years ago.

I hope that it’s you that is reading this and not…well, someone else. I tried contacting you on Facebook, but it seems as though my name is blocked on your account. Well, I have a lot to say, but…

“Blah, blah, fuckin' blah.” Doris lay back in the hospital bed she had installed in her room and held the letter that was meant for Clark so she could read it. In her other hand was a cigarette lighter with the flame set high, she touched the flame of the lighter to the picture first, and burnt it from behind, so she got great pleasure in watching Rachael’s face burst into flame, a flame that quickly spread out and consumed the picture in seconds. Next was the letter, this one, she put the flame to the one corner, and watched the flame as it burned the paper while it was still in her hand.

Clark opened the door to his mother’s room just in time to see the last remnants of the letter being consumed.

“What are you burning?”

“Oh, nothing important,” a smile came to the old woman’s face, “just a piece of junk mail.”

“Right,” Clark looked at the envelope, it had his name on it, wishing he could grab it.

Doris noticed Clark’s look. “I’ll tell you what the letter said.”

Clark looked at the ashes of the letter that was still floating in the air.

“Dear Clark, my dear, dear Clark. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I met this beautiful woman that I’ve fallen madly in love with--.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“I was going to give you the envelope which has the address on it, but now--.” Doris touched the flame of her lighter to the envelope. “Bye bye!”

Clark had a lot of things to say about what his mother just did to him, but it would be of no avail. All his words would do was go into one ear and out the other. And if he were to say something that would piss her off enough to have him kicked out of the house, which would actually please him to no end, she wouldn’t give him the benefit.

“Like I say over and over again, I don’t care what happens to you--.”

“I know you don’t!”

“LET ME FINISH!”

“I know, you don’t care what happens to me when you die.”

“I have something to tell you,” Doris said, “it’s not a matter of when I die, but IF I die. Think that one over! I can hang on for another 20 years!”

“You know,” Clark thought of something, “I could just kill you. Oh, to be sure, not all at once, but little bits at a time. You know, an extra dose of pills, or simply a mystery pill. You already take so many pills, you don’t know what you’re taking already.”

“I know exactly what each pill is, how to take it and when to take it.”

“Or, I could go outside, pick a fight with somebody just enough to have me put in county lock-up for a few days. OOPS, I wouldn’t be able to feed you for a few days.”

“You wouldn’t stoop that low!” Doris scoffed.

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Clark admitted, “but seriously, why don’t you have Lara at least help to take care of you, at least have her share in some of the duties.”

“I don’t want her to.”

“Right,” Clark sighed.

“All I am asking you to do is care for me until I die.”

“Trouble is, you’ve been on your deathbed several times already, when is it going to be for real?”

Clark sat behind the laptop that he had hidden away in the basement; his mother was physically unable to make it down the steps and had learned to live half his life down there. He had it fixed up the best he knew how with what he had, he looked at the image of Rachael on the screen, where he had learned how to use the Chat-bot and was in almost constant communication with Rachael.

“The letter came,” Clark typed.

“Were you able to read it?” Rachael responded.

“No,” Clark put a frowning face next to what he typed.

“It’s OK, it was for her eyes anyway, nothing you didn’t already know.”

“I know, but I want you to keep sending them, that way she won’t suspect that I’m still in communications with you in some other way. In fact, I want you to step up the rate at which you send them.

Clark spent the entirety of his 20th birthday alone still caring for his mother, it’s been almost four years since he’s physically seen Rachael, although he was able to communicate with her via the Chat-bot and was able to communicate with her over the phone via a video link. Somewhere along the line, he got a running clock in his head. So, on one of the days his mother was able to go out and was in…somewhat more of a more sociable demeanor, Clark took his mother on a trip to two places. The first was to a lawyer’s office to have the house put into his name, in which he was able to pay 1.00 for the house plus the lawyer’s fees, then to have a semblance of a proper will written up, one that would supersede anything she had written before. And as it was his lawyer, Doris had no authority to do away with this will.

The second stop was to a funeral home, where they were able to arrange for a simple cremation. Something told him that it would still take him a while before his mother would finally move on, but he knew that the wheels were finally working in his favor; he knew that next time she wouldn't recover from being on her annual deathbed.