“Hi. Elizabeth Wright.” I take another step back to let him know his tall body is imposing upon my space. “Are there any more neighbors around?”
“We are the only ones in this neck of the woods. Is it only you?”
“Only me for now.”
I cringe and clear my throat. Is he sizing me up? A sense of annoyance spreads through me. If he thinks he’s got himself a damsel in distress as a neighbor, he’s dead wrong.
“I’m getting a guard dog first thing.”
“That’ll help. Otherwise, just fire your gun if you need help. I can make it over in less than ten minutes.”
“I don’t have a gun.” Heat shoots into my face, and I bite my bottom lip. I shouldn’t be so open with personal information to a total stranger.
He raises his eyebrows and in his mind’s eye, he seems to calculate how often I’ll need him to help me out. I have to disabuse him of that notion.
“I have a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu, that’ll take care of things.” He doesn’t have to know I told the biggest lie ever, but going by the grin that parts his lips, I’m sure he guesses what I’m trying to do.
“Make sure you get an excellent dog then.” He motions with his head toward the house. “Need any help with stuff like water-pump or generator?”
“Thanks for the offer. I’m fine with all that.”
He squints and stares at me. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he shrugs and swings back onto his horse. It dawns on me he too might have reasons to live far away from people. There is a story there, I’m sure.
“See you around.” He tips his hat and turns the horse around.
“Not if I have a say in it.” He’s already too far away to hear my response. As long as he keeps his distance, we’ll get along fine. I wave and watch him disappear among the trees.
Chapter Eight
Ama: 19 November 2015, Just After Midnight, Wright’s Homestead
For how long have I been staring at the open shoebox? Never in my life have I seen that many $100 bills. There are at least… I haven’t a clue how much money is in this box. It must be thousands and thousands. Where in the world did Horace get the money? Why did he hide it from his sister and us? Musty, metallic whiffs from the money hit my nose. They conjure up images of young children, beaten and locked up in cages like cattle. I’m feeling sick.
“What are you doing? Go to bed, Ama. It’s past midnight.”
I didn’t hear Lilly coming, but I’m glad I’m no longer alone. I point to the shoe box. That we took money weighs on my conscience like a block of concrete.
“We can’t keep it.”
“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here agonizing about the bloody money.”
“Exactly. That’s what it is. Blood money. What have we done?”
“Ama, you are getting wound up.”
“Can’t you see? It’s dirty money. Don’t tell me you believe Horace got it from neutering stray cats. It’s Gateway money. If we keep it, we are no better than that disgusting group.”
The words come blasting out of me like bullets. I can’t stand the sight and the odor of the money any longer and shove the box away from me. It appears I set Lilly thinking. She rubs her lips with her index finger.
“I guess, by pretending it’s money from Elizabeth’s parents I feel justified taking it. It probably isn’t, is it? Nobody in their right mind would keep that much money stashed away for thirty-two years.” She bit her bottom lip and looked at me. “What do you think? We need money to live.”
Lilly is right, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s so easy in movies. People find money, their newfound riches solve all their problems and they live happily ever after. But it’s not that easy. It’s ill-gotten money. What if they come after us? Whoever they are? Haven’t we got enough problems?
“We have to discuss it with Sky and the others. Together we will find a solution, I’m sure. In the meantime, we have to write down what we use so we can give it back when the time comes.” Lilly looks relieved and goes back to her room. She doesn’t have to know that I’m not even half as calm on the inside as I appear. There is no sleeping for me tonight. Not just yet.
I love the time of the night when everyone is in the tree house, tucked up in bed and asleep. There is no pitter-patter up and down the stairs, no cries, no shouts, and no laughter. Tranquility spreads like a woolen blanket over the house. I listen to the heavy rain beating down on the roof. It sounds like a drum roll of a marching band. Together with the smell of burning wood in the fireplace, it creates a feeling of peaceful order and normality I adore.
I get a cup of hot chocolate and let the warm, silky liquid swish around my mouth before I swallow it. While I enjoy my midnight treat, I reflect on today’s massive achievement. I’m so proud of the Tribe. The kids managed the escape from Waitakere Flats so well, I couldn’t wish for anything more. It’s not often that whoever is in the body can do so without tons of commentary and angst in the background. But today… nothing. Everybody knew how much depended on a clean getaway and came up trumps.
Elise impressed me today too. She connected with Maddie. She saw her. Not only that, Elise didn’t turn away and do her help-I’m-going-crazy bit. She studied Maddie, if not with love, at least with curiosity. That was a huge
