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Besides, when you're a small female like I am, it's surprisingly easy to get what you need. All you have to do is look for it. Most of the time, a man of stature is willing to give whatever I have need of, so long as it's small and doesn't require much time or expense. A ride or a drink. When I can't get people to give me what I need, I have to take the opportunities as they come.
When I walk out of the bathroom stall, there's an older lady standing at the mirror, digging through her purse. I keep my eyes down, washing my hands as she smears on a shimmery lipstick before tossing it back in her bag. She blots her lips, and when she steps a few feet away from the mirror to throw her tissue in the trash, I pass between her and the counter.
Three things happen very quickly. One: my fingers lift her shiny, red designer wallet from her purse and tuck it under my arm. Two: she turns around. But then the third thing happens: I point to the trash can behind her and say, "You missed." Referring to the tissue she's just thrown. Of course, she didn't miss, but she doesn't know that. There are other tissues on the floor. She turns back around as I walk out the door.
I only take when I have to. And if things go the way I hope, I won't have to do it for long.
Out on the street, I take in the warm, fresh air. Looking through the glass wall of the diner, I spot the waitress that served me and walk faster, heading for the corner where the pedestrian light has just switched to green.
Wal-Mart is confusing. A maze of aisles and products I've never even imagined. I'm bug-eyed and lost for at least a half hour before finally stumbling into the shampoo aisle. And just when I start to breathe easy, I am overwhelmed once more by the vast selection. There must be a hundred kinds of shampoo: big and small bottles for every hair type, length, and color. For dyed hair, dye-free, scented, unscented, salon quality, like salon quality.
What's the difference?
I shut my eyes tight and take a deep breath.
Then, remember the wallet. Pulling the shiny red leather from the front of my jeans, I can tell it's loaded with credit cards. But I'm not going to touch those. It would be wrong. Unzipping the compartment on the inside, I find a long, neat pile of bills. Ones on the top of the fives, on top of twenties. Two hundred and thirty-seven dollars is shoved back into my pocket.
Down the aisle, I spot a tall guy in a blue vest. I walk up to him, all false-confidence and bravado.
This is what works in every situation: confidence. I've discovered I can get away with nearly anything, so long as I seem sure of myself. Confidence makes people think you know what you're doing. Act confident enough and they'll believe anything.
"Mark," I say, nodding to the workers' name tag. "I found this in the parking lot." And then I hand him the old lady's wallet. Opened, showing him the edge of the few bills I left in there, as I point at a business sized card. "This is one of those If-Lost-Please-Return-To cards. That's the lady's phone number. If you call, I'm sure she'll come get it."
Mark seems surprised and appreciative as he gives the wallet the a once-over, as if he could tell if anything were missing. "Thank you for your honesty. I'll go hand this over to my manager."
And he's off, waving back at me, thanking me again before he leaves the aisle.
When I look to the left, my gaze falls upon a familiar white bottle. Generic coconut shampoo. The kind Deanna used to buy me. I snatch it and the matching bottle of conditioner. In the next aisle, I locate the bars of soap. It's just as chaotic as the shampoo aisle. Too many choices. I search for the pink wrapper that I remember seeing in the soap dish back in the trailer. It smelled like flowers. Once I find it, I make my way up to the many checkout lines and have to make another tough choice. There are so many types of candy. Chocolate or fruit. Peanut butter. Crunchy, chewy, tangy. I grab one of each type, but two packages of Starburst because they used to be my favorite, and a pack of mint gum. It's been so long since I had access to anything like this, I can't resist. Plus, I'll need snacks for the long bus ride to L.A. Thanks to the old lady in the bathroom I have enough to get me there.
Right after the candy, just above the conveyor where my items are stacked, I spot the news magazines and gossip rags. They all have pictures of the same things: those two burning towers in the middle of New York. The terrorist attack that changed the world and sparked a war. It's been a few months, now. Everyone is afraid of these terrorists, the unknown enemy.
Not me. I know who my enemies are. My demon has a name and face, and I have defeated her. She can't haunt me anymore. I am no longer her victim.
I didn't wait for anybody to give me a second chance. I took it.
I'm moving forward, conquering the terrain, carving my path as I go. I may not deserve it, but I have it none the less. It would be stupid and wasteful not to take advantage, at least for a little while. It is a different world and I am a different person and I can find a way to live that will honor Jake. I know I can.
Making my way through the parking lot with my plastic bag, I'm heading for a new place in a direction. I'm not stopping 'til I see the Pacific ocean. I've never been to the beach before and am looking forward to it.
After all I have been through, all that has been taken from me, I have managed to take something back. And even though I may not have everything I want, I have found hope.
It's a new day. Another opportunity to make up for the past, to take a new direction, one in which my future is not predetermined.
There is uncertainty, but there is also possibility. And I'm not scared. I'm excited.
For the first time since losing Jake, I have hope. Hope for a better tomorrow than yesterday. Hope for a future. For contentment.
I'm grabbing it with both hands.
Epilogue
Three years later. . .
I was seventeen years old when life as I knew it ripped apart.
At twenty-seven, I'm still mending.
I have something now that I didn't have then: a new name, a new life, and a world that's wide open for me.
