Suggested by my new friend Don.
A story of an older woman, Stella, who was a tall, large, plain, lonely and sullen person. She drove trucks, because she wanted to and had inherited an out of the way repair shop between the mountains and the coast in Queensland, along with a sizable bequest. And a younger woman, Margarita, a sweet, small, petite, pretty, and on the run from a hostile, abusive father and brothers. How they found each other, creating a new life for them both. Any sex that takes place is between adults over 18.
Margarita busied herself in the laundry of the house she shared with her father and 3 brothers. She knew this was the one room they hardly visited. Still nursing the bruises and black eye from her last beating, she was thinking through what she had to do to get away. Where could she go, who could she turn to? Lowood had a small population, less than 5000 people, and most of them knew her father, the jovial, good natured, fun loving local businessman who would do anything to help his neighbors. Who raised funds for the local school and hospital. Who sponsored the local cricket and football teams, who was the president of the local RSL club and in fact was the shire president to boot. General all round good guy was Arthur Fitzgibbon, he also beat his only daughter, regularly, for the slightest of reasons. Sometimes for the fun of it.
There was no one she could turn to, nowhere she could go in Lowood.
Margarita was small in stature, not even 5 foot tall, slim, some unkind people would have called her skinny, the fact she may have been under nourished wouldn't have entered their minds. Her father had told people she was a little 'simple' and went off the rails after her mother died. It was best she stayed home and be looked after by the family. In truth, other than the occasional visit to the doctor or dentist, no one had seen nor could they remember when they saw her last. The 18 year old would be invisible to most of the town's folk.
She was hidden away from the world. Kept under lock and key. Did their cooking, the cleaning of the house, and the washing for the men of the house.
It was the 14th of April that Margarita decided she was leaving. She had no idea where she was going, or how she would get there. But she knew she was going.
She grabbed the empty basket off of the washing machine and carefully opened the laundry door. She waited and listened. The TV was on in the family room, so one of the boys would be home. She slowly and quietly went back to her room. She had learnt to move quietly about the house so as not to draw attention to herself. She moved silently towards the family room, and stopped at the corner by the kitchen. She could see the whole room from there and just as she thought, one of her brothers was there, snoring, and an empty six pack of VB was on the coffee table next to his dirty boots. He was sound asleep. She collected the money she had 'stolen' from their pockets while washing their clothes, put it in a small back pack she had been given, when she started school. It was the last thing her mother had given her. Those were happier times. Then her mother disappeared, she came home from school one day and her father told her that her mum had run off. She cried for a week, she missed her mother.
Now she was ready to go herself, just like her mum did.
She moved back to the Laundry, closing the door, carefully. Waited and listened, no one was coming. She looked out the small window onto the drive way, just the one car there, so no one else was around outside.
She carefully opened the back door, leading into the small courtyard where the clothes line was, it was barely big enough to house it, the fence having been built to keep her in, not any one out.
The six foot high fence was over a foot taller than she was. The top of the galvanized sheet iron fence was razor sharp, purposely so, no capping. None of this bothered Margarita, she had over time hidden away two wooden crates, one a bit larger than the other. Yes she got a beating when they went missing but this plan she was hatching had been in the making for over a year now.
She took a blanket from the cupboard and put that over the razor sharp edge of the sheet iron fence, then lifted herself over, falling the last few feet to the ground. There was no time now to stop and wait to see if she was seen. She took off. Not down the drive way, but back across the backyard. The wooden palings were already coming away so a swift kick opened up a sizeable hole for her to crawl thought. She replaced the palings and took off towards the highway.
She knew she couldn't ask for help from anyone, so she kept to the tall grass on the verge of the road and waited. She knew her timing was perfect. No one was screaming her name, with an ounce of luck she could cross the highway and head south until she was well away from the township.
She knew her father would search the house and neighbors sheds first, as he had done in the past. This time she thought all she needed to get away from them, was time. Timing was everything.
She kept reminding herself, stick to the plan, the plan will work, stick to the plan.
The plan was a simple one.
Stay off of the main highway out of Lowood.
Take the first dirt track away from the coast.
Sleep under bushes out of sight during the day.
Travel at night.
Get as far away from them as she could.
What little money she had, she had stolen from the pockets of the boys jeans when she washed them. Mainly coins, 10, 20 and 50 cent pieces, some 5's. She got lucky two or three times when she found a screwed up 5$ and$20 note. She handed back the $50 note to her dad, when she found it in Keith's shirt pocket. All nicely folded up. She had a bad feeling about taking their money, but then in an instant thought, why not.
It wasn't much but in the twelve months she had be stashing it away it had added up to over a hundred and fifty dollars. It weighed a fair weight. The money, a couple of pairs of panties, a spare bra, a tooth brush, old T shirts and a pair of jeans. That was it, her entire travelling kit. Timing was everything she reminded herself. Her period had just finished so had at least 28 days before requiring toiletries of that nature. That, she thought, was all she needed.
Now to get far enough away, down to Sydney or Melbourne. Hide in the big cities before being caught.
She waited until dark and crossed the highway, and started walking away from the coast, but not to Brisbane. She knew her dad would go there along the main roads between now and day break. She had to avoid the main roads. Stick to the plan, the back roads.
It was some two hours along a dark dirt track, when she saw the lights from behind her. She quickly got off the track and laid down in the long grass. The ute sped past her, she didn't recognize it. It wasn't her dad, or any of her brothers, that she was certain of. It was too dark to be certain of course, so she laid there until the red tail lights disappeared down the track. She didn't move until the lights had gone and she couldn't hear the vehicle any longer. When she did move, she got up slowly, thinking any sudden movement would draw attention to her. The fact it was almost pitch black. It was a moonless night, with heavy cloud cover, it didn't occur to her that she couldn't be seen by anyone without a pretty strong torch light.
She started walking in the same direction the ute went, feeling quite safe. She walked all night. Before too long the sky in the East became lighter, she started to think about where she would hide during the day, well off the track she thought.
She walked up a small but steep rise in the road and once at the top, she looked down into a valley and saw the small house with a large unkempt shed, sheets of iron were falling off of it at different parts. A dirty prime mover was parked at the back.
The ute that passed her during the night was parked out front of the house. She walked down the road towards the house, and a single light came on shining out a small window at the back of the house, the bathroom thought Margarita, She heard music floating across the empty paddocks between her and the house. The house was starting to wake up she thought. The small light went out and she heard a door close at the back of the house.
Then she smelt it. Bacon being cooked. There is nothing like it, on the fresh chilly air in the morning, at day break, when you catch just a hint of the scent. She could see it her mind's eye, sizzling in a frying pan, the eggs would be frying in a pan next to them, and how many times has she done that for the boys at breakfast, she wondered to herself. It was then she realized just how hungry she was.
She found a large tree next to the creek running through the bottom of the valley, made herself comfortable close to the edge of the creek, then found herself a cozy little nook, curled up, closed her eyes and dreamed of that bacon.
