Page 75 of Traces of Kara

Kara decided it didn’t matter why she had originally wanted to leave. Her decision to go to nursing school was a good one. She needed a new life. She needed a life. Period. She was sick of hiding out in her apartment. She’d been front-page news in their town for two weeks after the incident, and second page news for a day in the neighboring cities. Even the reporters, several of whom she’d gone to school with, had told her to just hide out for a while. She had so many unanswered questions, and no one to turn to. Kara rolled back over and listened to her mother’s message.

“Kara, it’s Mom. I…I’m sorry, honey.” Mimi sniffled. “Please, just talk to me, let me explain.” A tear rolled down Kara’s cheek. “It’s almost Christmas. Can’t we please talk?” Mimi pleaded.

Kara rolled over with a heavy heart and screamed into her pillow.

The following Monday, Kara awoke knowing what she had to do. She opened the drawer next to the refrigerator and removed the letter. She ran her fingers over the return address, University of North Carolina. Her heartbeat accelerated with every passing second. She walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. The sun beamed in through the window, illuminating a bright streak across her toes. Kara bit her lower lip, crossing her legs and kicking her feet up and down with excitement. She put the letter beside her on the couch and steepled her hands. Could she do this? Could she leave her mother, her town?

The phone interrupted her thoughts. She couldn’t spend her life running away from her mother, or dodging Daryl and Kelly, or everybody else in town who would point fingers and talk beneath their breath for years to come. She didn’t want to be that girl who got attacked, or that girl with the crazy brother.

She picked up her keys and headed out the door.

The Sheetz parking lot was empty when Kara arrived. She swiped her card through the gas pump, started the flow of gas, then walked into the Food Mart. It felt good to do something normal for a change. She couldn’t watch any more television, and she missed attending her classes. She even missed going to work everyday, though she’d left that job for good. The mere thought of smelling coal again made her pulse race.

She hadn’t been in Sheetz since the incident. She filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee, added a dab of cream and sugar, then walked to the candy aisle. She stared at the chocolate bars and Skittles. She didn’t even want candy, but she thought it might make her feel better. The bell on the front door jingled.

Kara felt eyes boring into her. She looked up just in time to see two giggling teenage girls, one whispering into the other’s ear. The girls flitted into the next aisle.

Kara’s muscles tensed. She’d hoped the gossip would have died down by now. She took her coffee up to the cash register.

The cashier turned to face her. Kelly Arnold. Great.

Kelly pursed her lips. “Kara.”

Kara shoved her money across the counter.

Kelly put the money in the cash register and handed Kara her change. She let out a loud sigh, and said, “Look, I’m really sorry about…everything. What you went through with that guy.” She looked down, bit her upper lip, then looked back up at Kara and said, “And about coming between you and Daryl.” Kelly almost sounded sincere.

Kara wanted to cry, and she also wanted to yell. Her marriage was over. She didn’t miss Daryl. She didn’t even really care that he was with Kelly. She simply missed having that special someone to come home to. It could be anyone—she just missed being wanted. Daryl had filled a void she’d felt for more years than she could remember. She wondered now if that ache to be wanted was borne of the loss of Roland so many years before. Or was her desire to be wanted, in some small way, a shadow of the same obsessiveness that Roland had felt?

She walked toward the door, reached for the handle, and hesitated. She was no longer going to be the victim. She turned toward Kelly, stood up straight, and said, “What you did was just as awful as what that guy did to me. You just used a different weapon.”

Kara strutted across the parking lot with a smirk. She unhooked the gas pump from her car, settled her shaking self into the front seat of her car, and let out a whoop! No longer would she be looked at as poor Kara. The whole town knew about Daryl and Kelly. The whole town knew about Roland and Mimi. It was time for the whole world to know about the new Kara.

Epilogue

Snow had just begun to settle in a thin layer on the roads. Kara drove with caution toward the canal. She hadn’t been back to the plant since the incident, and she wasn’t planning on going there now, but she wanted to see the water. She’d be sure not to look too far to the left. She drove over the one-lane, wooden bridge, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles hurt. She stopped the car halfway across, and put it in park. Kara opened the door and stepped onto the worn, wooden ties, leaning over the railing with her back to the power plant. She took a deep breath, and a smile crept across her lips. She’d miss this place. She could feel the power plant looming behind her, beckoning her to turn around, face her fears. Kara didn’t want to give in to anyone else’s desires anymore. She wanted to honor her own choices. It was her choice not to look at the place where her life had met such horror.

It was hard to believe she was finally leaving Williamsport. How could an event so horrific have a positive outcome? She wouldn’t claim it as such, but she smiled at the thought of finally going after her dreams without the tether of her heart holding her back.

Kara took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Without turning to see the power plant, she said, “Goodbye,” and climbed back into her car.

Saying goodbye to the town was the easy part. She drove down the familiar streets at fifteen miles per hour. She looked at the houses as she passed, and laughed at the silly gutters that hung in the air, resting on poles like arms outstretched. Only in Williamsport, she thought.

She drove past the church, wondering if she should go inside and say her last goodbye, or confess her sins. She had plenty of them. No, she decided. If she stopped, she might change her mind. She was ready, and she was doing this. She followed Artizan to her mother’s small rambler, and pulled into the driveway.

Ted waved from the carport. “Hey,” he said with a smile as she stepped from the car.

Kara embraced him. “I’m sorry for being such a pain for so long,” she said.

“It goes both ways, kiddo.” Ted winked. “She’s inside. She’ll be happy to see you.”

Kara nodded. She hadn’t called her mother. After she’d made her decision, she’d immediately gone into planning mode. Her new apartment awaited, along with a job assisting one of her new professors. Now she just needed the courage to make her plans her new reality. She didn’t want to do this over the phone. She didn’t want to answer a long list of questions, or end up in tears, feeling guilty and forced to back out of her plans. She needed to see her mother’s face, look her in the eye. She needed to confront her past and her future.

She stood before the screen door, for the first time feeling uneasy about walking into her mother’s house. Part of her longed to move and be rid of her mother’s intrusions into her life—another part was scared shitless to lose her. But it was time for Mimi to relinquish that protective, motherly place that had consumed so many years of her life. It was time for her to focus on herself and live the life she deserved, and it was time for Kara to pull herself up by her bootstraps and take care of herself. She had to move past the immaturity that allowed her to run back to Mommy’s house, and finally build a separate life for herself. How could anyone respect her decisions if she didn’t take care of herself? Kara took a deep breath and walked inside.

“Mom?” She walked through the foyer to the kitchen, where Mimi stood in front of the stove, stirring a pot of something thick and sweet smelling.

Mimi’s eyes grew wide, instantly filling with tears. She dropped the spoon into the pot and rushed to Kara, stopping herself just short. She let her hands fall awkwardly to her sides.