Chapter 1 - Michelle

The blazing sun had turned our trailer into an oven, so Frankie and I sought relief in a small, plastic kiddie pool. I reclined in one of our old lawn chairs with my feet in the ankle-deep water as he splashed around with his toys. The piss-warm pool wasn’t much cooler than the air, but it was better than the stifling heat inside. I closed my eyes for what couldn’t have been more than a minute, but was jolted awake by the sudden silence; toddlers (especially mine) were never quiet. I glanced down into the pool, and my heart leaped into my throat.

He was gone.

I scanned the yard, heart racing, and panic rising, when I saw a set of tiny little legs making a break for it, two trailers down.

“Frankie, get over here!” Damn it, why was this kid so fast?!

By the time I caught up with him, he was waist-deep in the neighbor’s tomato patch, mercilessly ripping leaf after leaf from the vines.

Shit, shit, shit.

I scooped him up before he could rip them right out of the dirt. He was so proud of himself, a smug grin plastered across his face. Just like his father. The trailer door swung open, and a woman stepped into the sun. She was an older, heavyset woman, with ash blonde hair graying at the temples and soft wrinkles lining her face. She wore an oversized t-shirt with kittens on the front, loose-fitting shorts, and a pair of blindingly orange Crocs.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I began. “I’ll buy you a new plant and clean up your garden.”

“Nonsense!” she laughed. “What’s the point of a vegetable garden if you don’t share? Now, who is this little gardener?”

“This here is little Frankie, named after his daddy. And I’m Michelle.”

We shook hands and she turned to my son, who was still proudly waving the tomato leaves in each pudgy fist, and smiled.

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Joanne. Do you want a tomato, Frankie? Come, let’s pick a special one just for you.”

I put him on the ground, and she took him by the hand. I watched in amazement as she plucked a tomato of his choosing off the vine, and showed him around the rest of the small garden, teaching him the names of each plant. In the four years that we’ve lived here, no one has ever been this kind to us or our toddler. How have I not met her before? I walked over to them, still feeling guilty about the state of her garden. She clearly spent a lot of time working on this; the other garden beds were immaculate.

“I feel terrible about your tomatoes. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to make it up to you?”

She smiled at me, her cheeks flushed from the heat. “Your company has been more than enough. I don’t have many visitors, and my niece is in college now. It’s been a long while since I’ve had a child around to dote on. Would you like to come in for some iced tea?”

“That would be great.” I smiled at her and watched as she led Frankie up the steps and inside.

Her trailer wasn’t much cooler than ours, but the open windows allowed some air to flow and the cold glass of tea was incredibly refreshing. As she fussed around in the kitchen, the baby found something amusing under the couch. I tried to sit him next to me, but he was determined to reach whatever it was.

“Oh, he must have found one of the cats,” she said. “I have a few, but they usually hide when a new person comes in. So tell me, how long have you lived here in Heavenly Shores?”

I smirked at the name of the trailer park; I’d always thought it was ridiculous. The closest body of water was the massive pothole by the entrance that filled with rainwater, and the condition of the park was far from heavenly. She sat down next to me as we chatted.

“We moved here about four years ago,” I told her. “What about yourself? You’re easily the kindest person I’ve ever met here in the park. I don’t see how we’re just meeting now unless you moved in recently.”

She smiled. “Why, thank you, dear. I’ve been here for a few years myself, but I don’t go out much. It’s just me and the cats these days.”

I could see the loneliness in her eyes; it was heartbreaking.

“Is that your family?” I asked, gesturing to the lone group photo on her wall.

“Oh yes. They visit now and then… when they have the time, of course,” she began. “That’s my brother Arthur, and his wife Vanessa.” She pointed to a large man weathered by the sun, not unlike Frank, and a dainty blonde woman, who looked as though she spent an exorbitant amount of money on her hair and nails every week. They seemed like such an unusual pair. “He’s a carpenter, and she’s a successful interior designer. You should see their home, it’s absolutely stunning. Of course, I’ve only seen photos… She doesn’t seem to think I fit in with her expensive taste.” Her face fell as she quickly blinked back the tears forming in her eyes.

I couldn’t believe that someone could be so cruel to this woman. Desperate to change the subject, I pointed to the last person in the photo, a smiling young woman standing next to Joanne. She couldn’t have been more than 17 years old.

“Is that their daughter?”

“Yes! That’s my lovely niece, Samantha.” She beamed just at the mention of her name.

“How old is she?” I asked.

“Oh, she just turned twenty this summer! Can you believe it? She’s going into her third year at the university, on a full scholarship. She’s so smart. I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday… They grow so fast, don’t they?”

“They sure do. I don’t know where the time goes!” I turned to my son, trying one last time to sit him calmly on the couch. “One minute, he’s this tiny little thing swaddled in a blanket and the next… well, he’s this!” He squirmed out of my arms and toddled across the small room. Before I could react, both of his hands were in the litter box.

“Shit!” He shouted proudly, his arms in the air and a cat turd in each hand.

“Frank Aaron Johnson, you put that down right now!” I scolded. I ran across the room and grabbed him by the wrists, shaking the crap out of his hands. “We don’t touch that!”

I turned to Joanne, embarrassed by both my outburst and my son. “I’m so very sorry about that. Can I wash his hands in the kitchen sink?”

“Of course you can!” She chuckled to herself as I half carried, half dragged my son to the sink to wash up, making sure his hands didn’t touch anything -- including me. After cleaning him up, we returned to the couch, with Frankie held firmly on my lap. He didn’t like this and began squirming immediately

I told her how Frank and I met in a bar in our twenties, fell in love very quickly, and before we knew it, we were married. Little Frankie didn’t come into the picture until a couple of years later, but we had made our home here in the park with the little money that we had. Frankie was becoming more and more restless, frustrating by my unwillingness to let him go.

She looked at the two of us and smiled. “The two of you make such a beautiful family. I can only imagine how handsome your husband must be, to give you such a good looking little boy! He sounds like a great man. It’s so important for children to have their father, you know? The closest I’ll have to children are the cats, but don’t you just love them? They each have their personalities and oh, the mischief they get themselves into. But at the end of the day, they’re so loving and loyal. The way they curl up against you and purr, it’s just so sweet... ”

I nodded politely as I tried to remember the last time Frank touched me without a closed fist. It must have been at least three years. He was so sweet when we met, and such a gentleman; opening doors for me, flowers, romantic dates, intimate dinners, the works… but after the wedding, that all came to a halt. After the wedding, I was his property; a servant, to cater to his every need. And if my “service” wasn’t up to par… well, he would try and beat higher standards into me. I should’ve stayed in college. I would’ve been a nurse by now. When I met Frank, I thought all of that could wait. I figured college would always be there, but I wouldn’t get a second chance at true love. Yet, here I am. No college, no future, and no love. But where could I go now? Frank had spent what little money I had of my own. I was stuck.

I tried to smile as Joanne spoke, just as I’d taught myself to do over the years, but the rest of her words faded away as Frankie began to enter a full-blown meltdown. I handed him the cell phone in my pocket, a last-ditch effort to calm him down, but he immediately threw it across the room.

“No!” he cried, his face red with tears and snot streaming down his face. “No, no, no, no!”

He balled his tiny fists and began hitting me, pounding on my legs, arms, and swinging at my face. Just like his father. I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“He hits me,” I blurted out. “I’ve never told anyone. The first time it happened, he cried and told me how sorry he was; said it would never happen again. But now every time he gets angry, it’s my fault. I tried to take the baby and leave, but he caught me. He threw me to the ground and threatened to kill me if I ever tried to leave again.”

Joanne’s eyes went wide, a look of horror frozen on her face. “Oh, honey…” She put her hand on mine, giving it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry that this happened to you.” I could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “How can I help? What can I do to keep you safe? Is there somewhere you can go? I can talk to my brother, maybe he knows of somewhere...”

I stared in disbelief at the woman who I’d only met a few hours before, and who was now offering to help save my life.

“I can’t let you get dragged into this, Joanne.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “If he ever finds out, he’ll go after you, too.”