Feeling a caring presence from behind, Sasha turned around and looked toward the farmhouse she’d known as her childhood home. Two figures appearing as silhouettes she assumed to be the mother and father who’d raised her, and from whom she’d subsequently been taken so long ago by tragic means, were there. Sasha waved to them. She’d wondered after so much time had gone by, would she ever be reunited with them, and if so, would it happen in this life or the next? Or would it occur in some form of afterlife? So many questions plagued her and remained unanswered that she’d given up faith in such matters long ago, but she hadn’t yet parted with hope.
Sasha started walking away from the mountains, the trees and the river, and soon began running toward the two figures. They were now returning her wave, each with an arm held high in the air. One figure was taller than the other. She couldn’t see their faces or make out any features other than their size and the general feeling of who they were to her. Sasha ran harder and after some time realized that she wasn’t getting any closer. She tried putting forth more effort, but the distance didn’t decrease. The rules of nature were being snubbed in this dream world, but that didn’t stop her from pushing even harder. Both hands raised in the air, now waving frantically, Sasha screamed for her parents both, and their reactions changed. Now they looked concerned. And they were waving her in.
“Come on!” they said, voices in virtual unison. “Come on, Sasha! You’ve been out there long enough now! Time to come home!”
“I know!” Sasha hollered back. “I’m sorry! I’m…trying!” They kept waving, and Sasha kept running, but the distance remained constant, and her frustration soon forged into anger.
Why was this happening? She was finally home again, and her parents were here. They hadn’t forgotten her. They were a mere heartbeat away, but try as she might, she couldn’t get to them. It was as if one scene in one random dream was summarizing all that had become of her life. All the time gone by, everything she’d done, everywhere she’d been, everyone she’d loved and hated…nothing in all those years away had served to get her any closer to her roots. Home was calling to her, and Sasha yearned for a better way to get there.
Wham!
Sasha flew upward from her pillow in a cold sweat, her chest heaving. She put a hand to her sternum and inspected the room in shivers for what had roused her, a look right cluing her in. “Morning, girls,” she groaned at two familiar faces. “Did one of you slam the door or drop something? What’s with all the racket?”
“Shhh,” Carly said, ear pressed to the door. “Something’s wrong.”
“Damn right there is,” Sasha agreed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m no longer dead to the world.”
Carly shushed her again. “No…some guards are in the hallway. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but they’re being loud, knocking on doors. I think they’re raiding bunks.”
“Really?” Sasha yawned her query. “That’s new. I thought they only pulled that crap in the hoosegow. Guess I assumed this hot sheet motel, while comparably lackluster, would be different.”
“It was,” Morgan added, sounding fearful. “This has never happened before.”
Sasha scratched her head and squinted. “Kind of makes you wonder what’s changed.” She smirked, holding up a finger. “Oh, that’s right, I bet I know what it is.” She chuckled briefly. “Me.”
“They’re still in the main hallway,” said Carly. “We might have some time.”
“Time to do what?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t know, hide? Or get out of here or something.”
“Okay, w-which way do we go?”
“We can try some windows,” Carly said. “Ours doesn’t open, but maybe someone else’s does. Or we can wait until they go inside someone’s room, and run outside when they’re not looking.”
Morgan nodded hesitantly. “Good idea.”
“Wrong—bad idea,” Sasha interrupted. “Girls, do yourselves a favor and stop thinking, both of you. Anything you’re scheming, for whatever silly reasons you’re scheming it, has been prepared for long in advance. They’ll head you off at the pass before you even know it, so slow down…let’s think this through a minute. Have either of you done anything stupid lately?”
Both girls shook their heads in unison.
“Okay, good. Might you be hiding something? Something, say, you shouldn’t have?”
Another set of negative responses.
“Two for two,” Sasha concluded, exhaling a sigh. “You’ve done nothing wrong, so it’s best not to look guilty. Just go along with whatever the hell this is, and let it play out. Put on your best smiles and look as pretty as you can.”
“Smile and look pretty?” Morgan shot back. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, chicken legs, I’m not kidding. And if you have a better idea, which I highly doubt, speak up. Otherwise, shut up.”
Morgan backstepped and hung her head. “I…don’t have chicken legs.”
“Yes, you do, sweetie. And those scissor sticks need work; I can help you—but…some other time.” Sasha slid to the side of the bed, reached for her jeans, and slid them on, realizing what little effort it took and how they didn’t feel nearly as tight as they once had. It made her remorseful for never having bid farewell to her curves.
“Shit…they’re getting closer!” Carly whisper shouted. “I think they’re coming this way. What are we going to do?”
“The two of you are going to follow my lead,” Sasha said. “Anything else will look suspicious and paint a bullseye on our foreheads.” She ran her fingers through the knots in her hair. “Ouch—I’d give my boots for a decent pick or a hairbrush.”
Sulking still, Morgan went across the room, opened a drawer,
