Chapter 6

Thursday December 11, 2014

“Kate Brice! Kate Brice! My name is Kate Brice! My mother is Paula and my father is Tom and my little brother was ... is Peter and I ... I ... can’t remember ... what they look like...” Her voice trailed off as choked on her tears. Those tears soon turned to sobs as she leaned against the side wall of the restaurant where this had all began just a few days before. The predawn darkness hid her from the truckers and other early morning travelers who entered and left the restaurant. She wrapped her arms around herself as the chill of the morning cut through the battered parka she wore. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do about the coldness that filled her soul. She chided herself for not eating something before she fled her grandfather’s ... no Jacob’s apartment, but that was the furthest thing from her mind as she hurriedly dressed and fled the farm.

It was another nightmare that woke her and rattled her to her core. In it her uncle had tied her to a bed in a windowless room, and as he fixed her with his malevolent stare he shouted, “What’s your name? What’s your name?”

In the dream, to her horror she realized she didn’t know. Despite trying very hard she just couldn’t remember anything, certainly not her name, and when she tried to tell her uncle she didn’t know, no sound came from her constricted throat.

Now she was two miles away at the familiar truck stop, with little recollection of how she got there. Her thought processes were still in a fearful jumble - no better shape than when she left. Why had she come to this place? Was her subconscious telling her it was time to go?

When Kate arrived she hadn’t gone into the busy restaurant, she’d just leaned against the stucco wall in the darkness at the corner of the building feeling cold and miserable. She wasn’t visible to those inside and against the wall in the darkness she’d hardly be noticed by those outside at the fuel pumps and those coming and going through the entrance to the busy restaurant. As she watched the trucks as they pulled out of the large parking lot and loudly accelerated onto the interstate starting their journeys to places across the continent, she wondered if she could go back to that life.

Even at this early hour Interstate Five was busy. Cars and trucks rushed by, the noise of their passing echoing off the front of the restaurant. What a laugh, she thought, just a few days of food and warmth in a dead man’s home and wearing a dead girl’s clothes and the faint promise of stability in her life and she was already spoiled by it. Get a grip girl, she thought. This is just another fantasy, like so many others over the last three years.

Kate moved the short distance around the corner of the building and standing to the side she’d gazed in one of the large windows. The scene was a familiar one - the place was filled with truckers and weary travelers readying themselves to get back on the road - waitresses hurried around the restaurant refilling coffee cups and delivering overflowing breakfast plates. She watched those waitresses, young and old, and remembered her own stints in those jobs. It was hard work.

The familiar scene filled her with sadness. At least those in the restaurant had their own names and probably a place where they belonged. Most had people who cared about them, loved them and missed them when they were working or on the road. She had no one. Even Jessica Brandt was an orphan. Although there were some who seemed to care about her it was really caring by proxy because of her grandfather. Stop it!

He’s not your grandfather; she chided herself for thinking that way. He was the one they really cared about. He had been loved and admired by many. Caring about Jessica Brandt seemed purely self-centered – Jacob had taken care of people. He was an employer and apparently a philanthropist and now people were afraid for their livelihoods. Maria, who had cleaned for Jacob, was married to a man who worked for Jacob. Now their lives were in the hands of a young woman who they hardly knew. Kate almost laughed. Hardly knew? Never knew was more like it. Joe Foss and Keri had talked about ‘responsibilities.’ Well, Jessica would have had them but Kate certainly didn’t. She didn’t, did she?

Soon she moved back to her hiding place away from the busyness of the restaurant and hidden from all but the most observant gaze. As she watched the travelers leave the café she automatically searched for the one who might be trustworthy enough to approach for a ride. It was habit and she’d been lucky in the past. Kate was comforted by the weight of the .38 revolver in the pocket of her parka. Could she use it if she had to? Even on her uncle or one of his people? She didn’t know, but the man who gave it to her and taught her to use it said if she pulled it out then she had to be prepared to shoot.

Her mind showed her a picture of her leering uncle. Yes, for him there was no doubt, she would kill him if he came near her. She would never allow herself to be enslaved again. For a moment she fantasized about the surprise on his face as she shoved the gun against his forehead and pulled the trigger.

Kate shook her head to clear the image as she was again filled with sorrow and despair. Maybe she should just ask one of these men to take her along wherever they were going. She’d leave Lodi behind.

Why was she so attached to her name anyway? Did it matter? She’d used a number of different names over the past three years and would often look at her driver’s license to remind her who she was and where she’d come from. It was always wrenching to feel like her name and family were slipping away. To lose her name would be to lose all connection with her parents and Peter. Peter was a brilliant and unassuming boy who loved his big sister and Kate returned that love. He had amazing blue eyes. That she did remember, along with the fact he’d been murdered by a drunk driver.

Large tears streaked her cheeks as sobs again wracked her body. She cried for her parents, her brother, and for Jessica and Jacob. And she cried for the promise of a full and happy life they had all left behind - lives shortened by tragedy. She now had a place to stay and food and clothing, all because a young woman and her grandfather died too soon. It was as if in some inexplicable cosmic way it was her fault.

“I think you might need this.” From out of the darkness a gentle voice startled her. He was tall and lean but she couldn’t make out his features, the bright light from the truck stop hardly reached the corner where she leaned against the wall. It made the man little more than a silhouette wearing a baseball cap.

He stood offering a handkerchief. It seemed very white against the darkness.

“Thank you.” She sniffed as she took it from his hand and used it unsuccessfully to try to stem the flood of tears.

“Running away?”

Kate nodded. “Thinking about it.”

“It’s tough out there all alone...”

She nodded and sniffed, “I know.”

“Ah ... not the first time.”

Kate nodded in the darkness.

“Things bad at home? No one to care?” He asked softly. His voice told her he was older.

“My grandfather died. I was an orphan ... he rescued me. Now there’s no one.”

Her tears started anew and she could see the man nod his understanding. But he really didn’t understand. She’d answered as if she was Jessica. Why? Kate’s grandfather had died long ago.

“What kind of man was he?” She was surprised at the question.

“Everyone admired him, some loved him. Then it was just the two of us. He helped lots of others. People depended on him, now they want me to be him.”

The man stood quietly for a few seconds and asked, “Is that so bad?”

Kate thought about that for a few seconds. “I can’t be him. I’m no war hero ... I don’t know anything about business or managing people. I’m not someone who helps people. I can’t even help myself ... and I’ve never had responsibilities or had people depend on me. They don’t want their lives to change they just want me to step in like he’d never died.”

“None of us like change but life without it would be pretty boring don’t you think?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “And a little adversity now and then makes us strong, and makes us appreciate what we have.”

“But what if I screw it up – hurt or disappoint all those people?”

“Yes ... there’s that ... much better to not take the chance.”

She wished she could see his face so she could read his expression, but his voice seemed sad.

He went on, “You know the Tennyson poem where he says, I hold it true, whatever befall, I feel it when I sorrow most; Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all?”

“Yes, I think so, but I’ve never heard that first part.”

“The poem is really a eulogy. Most take it out of context. People quote it when they suffer a breakup with someone they love, or think they love, and the pain that comes as a result. Some go so far as to disagree with Tennyson because the pain of lost romantic love can often seem unendurable. In reality Tennyson is expressing his deep sorrow at the loss of a good friend who died quite suddenly in the prime of his life. So the poem is really about loss of those dear to us. You lost your family, but would you rather have never known them, never loved them, never experienced the joy of having them surround you with their love?”

Fresh tears flowed as those memories flooded her mind. For a change she could see her parents and Peter clearly, as they lived in the household outside Chicago that meant love and security to her.

“And now your grandfather is gone too. So you have loved and lost, but would you trade those memories for a blank slate?

She shook her head.

He sounded like a man who knew loss.

“So I guess what I’m saying is that just because you’ve loved and lost, and there are lots of challenges doesn’t mean you get to give up. It may be a clumsy analogy, but if fear of loss is not a reason to give and receive love, then fear of failure is not a reason to try, especially when people are counting on you. Did you get the feeling that any of the people your grandfather employed or helped was undeserving?”

“No, but I really don’t know many of them.”

“But the ones you do know?”

“They’re all good people and I don’t think my grandfather would have helped them or hired them if he didn’t see something in them.”

“So now it’s your decision. Stay and take a chance at failure, but if you succeed the rewards will be great and you’ll have enhanced the reputation of a man who tried to make a difference in his community ... and maybe in a very short time you’ll no longer be thought of as his granddaughter, but as the young woman who more than adequately filled his shoes.”

Kate nodded and looked down and dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose.

“Thank you.” She said softly. When she looked up the man was gone. She looked around the corner and out into the parking lot but he was nowhere in sight. She even went to the window and looked into the busy restaurant. There was no sign of the tall thin stranger. Where had he gone? Had she imagined him? No she still had his handkerchief balled tightly in her hand.

The first hints of winter sunrise behind the clouds followed her as she walked slowly back to the farm digesting what the trucker had said. His words had comforted her and perhaps brought a glimmer of clarity to her on this dark winter morning.

“Jessica, I’m so happy to meet you at last. Of course I’ve seen your picture and heard all about you – Jacob was very proud of you. I’m so sorry he’s gone ... I don’t think there are words enough to tell you how sorry, but if it’s any comfort, he was widely admired in this community and a very fine man.”

Alicia Estrada, Jacob’s CPA was a petite forty-something Hispanic woman, made taller by very high heels. She was dressed in a dark fitted skirt and red silk blouse. Her short dark hair framed an attractive face – a welcoming face that reassured Kate that this woman, like Joe Foss and Keri Anderson could help her assume those ‘responsibilities’ that had fallen to Jessica Brant - if she chose to take on those responsibilities she reminded herself.

Kate had returned to the farm from her pre-dawn excursion and showered and dressed and ate breakfast while on autopilot. She was grateful when she’d discovered that Maria had moved all of Jessica’s clothes up to the bedroom closet and chest of drawers and it appeared she had pressed the wrinkles out of those items that were in the suitcase. Maria had hung them by style and color so Kate, in her muddled state had no trouble finding a matching skirt and sweater set. Today she also wore low-heel boots.

Sitting in Jacob’s big chair with Sam on her lap and a mug of tea in hand, Kate constantly replayed the conversation she’d had with the mystery trucker. Could she do it? Everyone was more than ready to believe she was Jessica Brandt, but that was perhaps the easiest part. Her fear of failure, fear she could not live up to the expectations of this community weighed heavy on her, as did her fear of discovery. Without Jessica’s education in business, accounting and management, how could she hope to understand even a bit of how to run a successful and growing business and the responsibilities that went with it? There was that word again.

All the uncertainties of her position made it feel even more precarious. Somehow the fear of being discovered and apprehended, seemed less than the fear of failure, especially failure caused by the discovery of her fraud – yes fraud, because that’s what they’d call it. She’d be branded a criminal even if she took nothing and her pleas of trying to do good for the community would be swept away by the indignation of the community.

The temptation to take some of Jessica’s money and the truck and disappear was very strong. She could sell the truck and become Kate Brice again. But where would that leave her? She’d be back on the run again. Perhaps this is where all the running should stop.

These thoughts went around and around as she readied herself to meet with Alicia. She felt like she was being swept along by a strong current that she had little will to resist – a current that might take her to safe harbor or one that would smash her against the rocks that surrounded it.