Prologue
Crystal had called Janet three times already, and her calls had all been answered politely by different voices, all telling her that Janet had gone out. The third voice was a young one, she guessed a high-school or college kid, who had tried to find out who Crystal was. It’s her daughter, Crystal told herself, and replying briefly, had quickly hung up.
She was surprised to get a call from Vicky. After some awkward verbal fencing, she had agreed to let Vicky come see her. (Vicky was a professional escort whom Janet had hired earlier that weekend.)
She let Vicky in, and said, “I don’t have any money, Vicky.”
Vicky rolled her eyes. She wore a pretty spring dress that left her legs bare, with no bra. Crystal was envious; she never risked going without a bra herself; her own breasts were a lot fuller. Vicky sat on a chair and crossed her legs.
“Would you like to see Janet getting on the plane?”
Easter Break was coming to a close, and Crystal’s life had been completely shaken up and stood on its head. Just on Good Friday, of all days, Crystal had been persuaded to go to an all-women’s singles bar in a Philadelphia suburb, and met the most wonderful woman. Expecting to meet someone horrible and pushy, instead she had met Janet. They had left the bar and gone to a quiet restaurant, and spent a long time talking. Everything about Janet said quality, and Crystal just knew that if she were to look for a hundred years, she would never find a woman she could admire more.
They had spent the night together, but when Crystal dropped Janet off at a deserted parking-lot, it was clear that Janet had had second thoughts about how she had spent the evening. Anyway, Janet had not refused the folded piece of notepaper on which Crystal had carefully written her name, address and phone number.
A few days later, Janet had called her from somewhere in New Jersey. She was in a car with another girl, Vicky, and they wanted to get together. It was obviously not Janet’s idea, but this Vicky seemed to be a wild one, and had wormed the story of Janet’s date out of her, and now wanted to meet the young co-ed. Normally Crystal would have had nothing to do with the plan, but desperate to see Janet just once more, she had let them visit her.
Vicky, evidently, was obsessed with Janet, too. She had taken a liking to Crystal, and here they were, stalking Janet, who was about to fly back to St Paul, which was where she lived. The only person Crystal could ever imagine being happy with was flying away, out of her life.
“That’s her car,” Vicky said in a tight voice.
“Which one?”
“The forest green minivan, see?”
“Oh, uh huh, I see it,” said Crystal, nodding.
Vicky cursed silently; Crystal’s expensive perfume filled the air, and if Janet caught a whiff of it, it would attract her attention. It was very uncommon.
The minivan disappeared down the road, and Vicky, straining, thought she saw it far away on the other side of the parking-lot. For a while they could see nothing, until they saw a large party on the pedestrian crossing, with Janet’s unmistakable figure in the middle of it. The chestnut hair was tied in a large scarf, and she wore slacks and a sweater. Vicky glanced down at Crystal, and nudged her. Crystal looked up at her questioningly, and she pointed to the party, and the girl drew her breath in sharply.
“That has to be her daughter,” Crystal whispered, referring to one of the girls in the party. There was Janet, two other brunettes, a tall blonde, and several kids. Crystal had learned that Janet’s daughter attended a junior college somewhere near Philadelphia, and lived with Janet’s friend.
Vicky dragged Crystal to where they could watch the party from closer up, without being seen. They sat on a bench along the check-in line, praying that they would check-in the traditional way, rather than electronically.
“They’re coming!” Crystal breathed, pretending to study her magazine.
“See the big blonde?”
“Yes,” said Crystal, under her breath.
Vicky studied the tall, fair-haired woman. She had a little girl hanging from one arm, and a large suitcase hanging from the other, but managed to be attentive to what the slim brunette with her was saying. Vicky had studied the brunette and dismissed her at once. The kids were cute, but were pretty generic, all four of them. But the tall blonde had a certain presence that made you pay attention.
Vicky studied Janet, hungrily noting the curve of her legs, the thrust of her breasts, the graceful line of her neck. Most people simply could not look graceful standing in line at a check-in counter, but Janet and the blonde looked like royalty, waiting patiently.
Now came the most dangerous part. They were right opposite them, and Vicky was acutely aware of Crystal’s perfume. They both wore sunglasses, and pretended to be absorbed in their magazines.
“I’m so glad you came, Mama.”
“Me too, sweetheart.”
“Me too, Jan. Will you visit again if I send you a ticket?”
The blonde’s voice sent chills through Vicky’s body. There was a lot in common between the way she spoke and Vicky’s own speech; the similarity must have been greater when the blonde was younger. But the expression in it, the vivaciousness, the emotion in the voice would have soothed any wild beast, aroused the calmest man, the voice of a witch or an angel.
“Don’t be silly, girl,” Janet was saying, “I can afford a ticket.”
“I’d love to go to where you live, Miss Janet!” said a shy little voice.
“I’ve got some money saved,” said Janet’s daughter’s voice, remarkably like that of the blonde, but quite individual. “I guess we should make a trip out. Aunt Maryssa would love it for a visit, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh yes,” said a new voice. “But I don’t know whether I could leave the house.”
“No,” said the blonde firmly. “I don’t think I could face …”
There was a sudden silence, and Vicky froze. She dared not look up, but she was almost certain that the blonde did not wish to be overheard. There were lots of secrets in this group. Vicky could not understand her own intense curiosity about Janet and her family, but she knew enough now, and all she wanted was to disappear. She could feel Crystal beside her, also frozen in fear of discovery.
“Let’s just go for a weekend, Mama,” the little boy saying. “Let’s go for Easter!”
They all laughed, as one of the older children explained that the little fellow believed Easter came every other week.
Vicky felt her hand taken in Crystal’s soft one.
“Are you okay?”
Vicky hadn’t realized that she had been sniffing softly. Once the little group had moved past them far enough, the two of them slipped out of the building. It felt odd to have the young redhead comfort her, but Crystal had put her arms around Vicky. She tried to explain why she had felt so sorry.
“It’s just that—I’ve always wanted brothers and sisters, but I’m an only child, and …”
“Me too!”
Vicky smiled. “They’re so cute, aren’t they?”
Crystal studied Vicky’s brown eyes, then looked away. “I want to have kids,” she said, “lots of kids. I don’t want to go to college.”
“Well, hon, hanging around Janet won’t get you what you want, then.”
“You don’t understand,’ Crystal said, stubbornly.
They were at the car. Vicky opened the doors, and they got in. Vicky carefully pulled out, and headed to the security station.
“What’s to understand? You can’t have kids without a guy, and Janet’s a woman. Am I missing something?”
Crystal shook her head, and looked out the window.
Chapter 1
Crystal had run away from home.
It had been a difficult semester, but she had somehow managed to finish all her finals well enough to pass. Whenever she had felt her energy flag, she had recalled Janet, and her quiet, intelligent speech, and the way she made Crystal feel like someone who mattered, and everything seemed a little easier. Crystal could not understand why Janet had closed the chapter on Crystal; she didn’t seem the sort of person who was into one-night-stands.
She had packed one enormous backpack with the bare minimum of things she needed: clothes, toiletries, her laptop and her phone, some photographs, some cash. Everything else was packed into the Lincoln, including credit-cards, schoolbooks and all her valuables, jewelry, toys.
She had driven the car home to Wisconsin over a couple of days, not answering her father’s calls, and timed her arrival just about midnight on a Saturday. She had left the car parked in the driveway, noting that her father’s BMW was missing, but her mother’s Land Rover was in the garage. Then she had begun to hike. She knew roughly which way Minnesota was.
It was easy at first. She had worn her good sneakers, and had managed to walk around fifty miles each of the first two days, hiding in a bus station overnight. As night fell at the end of the second day, she was out in the country, far from any bus station or comparable source of shelter. She was also hungry and thirsty. Her left foot was aching, and her shoulders, too.
What could she do? She plodded along, wearily. She had been toying with various options; the last thing she wanted was to alert them to the fact that she had run away from home. By now the car would have been discovered, and the word would be out. A red-haired, blue-eyed girl was hard to miss.
Finally she decided that she’d say she was on a hiking tour, on her way to Michigan, which was in the opposite direction from that in which she was headed. She had missed her estimate as to where she would be at nightfall, and that’s why she needed shelter. She had a sleeping-bag, and she would be fine anywhere, as long as it was dry.
She turned in at the closest farm, and was immediately intercepted by a beautiful dog, a large golden retriever, who was determined to establish her bona fides before it extended the hand —or lick— of friendship.
It barked its head off, as Crystal stood at the bottom of the steps, saying “Hi, pretty puppy … hi there, boy … oh, you’re so handsome …”
“Hello! Down, girl; Lassie, be quiet!”
“Oh, she’s a girl!”
“Oh yes; she’s a big baby, that’s what she is!”
Lassie was wagging her tail like mad, eager to make the acquaintance of the guest. Her presumed owner, a grey-haired man of medium height, stood aside to allow a pleasant-faced, grey-haired woman in glasses to see around him.
“Hello, dear, out a bit late, aren’t you! Ask her in, Jim. She looks tired.”
“Come in, come in! Where are you from, where are you headed?” Crystal gratefully went up the steps, feeling weak-kneed. “Good lord, look at this enormous pack; Molly, look at this thing!”
“Oh, it isn’t heavy when it’s strapped on right,” Crystal said. It wasn’t; she knew exactly how to do it. But the farmer was impressed, as was his wife.
“Oh dear,” she said, “have you been walking far?”
Crystal went into her spiel. She was on a walking tour, and had just set out from Eau Claire that afternoon, and hurt her foot. She was supposed to be at Tomah by nightfall, but she had sprained her ankle.
“Oh, you poor dear,” said Molly, “let me take a look!”
“Oh, it isn’t badly sprained,” said Crystal, quickly, but the woman insisted. In spite of her brave words, having the back pack taken off was a huge relief. “The swelling is way down,” she said, as the woman took off Crystal’s sock and felt for sign of a sprain. Molly gave up, but noticed that Crystal’s feet were swollen. Of course they were; she had walked fifty miles, not the twenty she had told them she had.
Gradually, with no hurry, Crystal was installed in a little bedroom, she had showered, and was having dinner with the couple, who had just started eating when Lassie had started barking. Crystal ate carefully, not eating her fill. It was bad enough she was accepting their hospitality under false pretenses, she didn’t want to eat them out of house and home, too.
“Do you have a lot of hikers stopping here?” she asked.
“No, hardly any! I seems a lovely thing to do,” said Molly, smiling. “How far will you go?”
“I meet some girls in Chicago, where we spend a week, and then we go into Iowa,” she said vaguely. The lies came easier every minute. “I’m way too fat; I figure walking will be good for me,” she said, changing the subject.
“Oh nonsense,” Molly scolded, “you look just perfect! All these silly ideas about being too fat, I don’t hold for any of it.” Jim diplomatically smiled and said nothing.
They didn’t keep her up too late. They slept early, around ten, and rose early, at five. Crystal woke up around seven, went down, ate breakfast, and then spent a half hour playing with the delightful dog Lassie.
“Well, I’d better be going,” said Crystal, coming inside.
“Why don’t you wait? When Jim gets back from the store, he can give you a ride into town.”
“Oh no,” Crystal said, “all that’s built into the schedule. I’ll just call in when I get to a certain place, and they plan around that. Lot’s of the girls will be slowed down with this and that; it’s normal.”
“Oh! How clever! They can do so much with computers, can’t they!”
“Uh huh,” said Crystal, nodding.
So she packed up, and headed out, carefully heading south-east again, because Jim would be returning, and the game would be up. Her stomach was churning with all the deceit, but it was exciting, too.
Sure enough, Jim saw her, driving down in his pickup, and stopped.
“Hop in,” he said, “I’ll drive you into town!”
“Oh no, Mr Whitaker, I have to walk! It’s something I have to do.”
He argued a bit, but she smiled and was firm. In the end he went home, and Crystal walked until the truck disappeared. Then she turned back. Now was the hard part. There was a thick hedge for most of the frontage of the farm, but there was about fifty feet where there was only a line of trees and a low fence. Crystal lowered her head and marched, looking at the ground. If they saw her and came out to inquire, she’d say she had lost some money last night.
Lassie barked her head off, but she wasn’t spotted. On she went, feeling better than she had in a while. She was going to walk a hundred miles that day. She hummed to herself, a little tuneless hum, and told herself she would see Janet in no time; maybe a day, maybe two.
She reached Eau Claire before noon, having walked very fast. She ate a quick lunch, bought herself a bottle of Gatorade, and set out slowly again. The road began to climb up and down, and she began to think that she should have taken the highway. But the highway meant state troopers, and they would be on the lookout for her. Maybe.
Up and up, and on she went. The road went up a lot, and came down a little, and she knew she was getting closer and closer. Then she saw: St Paul, 50 miles.
Finding Janet was just the first step in a long process. She would have to establish herself somewhere close to Janet, find a place to live, something to do, a source of income, so that Janet couldn’t send her away. What could she do? There was nothing, except waitressing, babysitting—no, forget that; you had to have references. She could be a maid. She would have to lie like crazy, and she hated to lie. Already, the lies she had said had given her an upset stomach, and she knew once she answered a call of nature —difficult with her backpack— it would be a doozy.
Anyway, she would find a way to keep an eye on Janet while she worked at getting settled. Then she would confront her. What did she want? Nothing. But she wanted everything. It was a quandary; she wanted nothing from Janet, except herself. But she had to show Janet that she didn’t need Janet for survival. She had to survive on her own. She had to be worthy of the wonderful, incredible woman. For the first time in her life, Crystal had a focus, a direction, a goal. And she found tremendous resources within herself.
The road between Eau Claire and St Paul was congested. She was left alone, but it was a lot less rural, and Crystal felt a little conspicuous. She headed off on a side road, because it was past eight, and she wasn’t going to make it into St Paul that night. What was she going to do? What if everyone was looking for a redheaded girl who claimed to be headed for Chicago, but was really headed the opposite way, and who liked to stay in farmhouses under false pretenses?
She was even more conspicuous in this little lane that obviously didn’t lead anywhere. But it was dark, there were no street lamps, and the house at the end of the lane was unlit. Crystal looked in the garage, and it was empty, with the door open. Carefully lowering her pack, she hid it among some shrubs, and walked round the house. There was a note on the side entrance near the mailbox.
“Please put mail inside door. Back in July. Thanks, Wilsons.”
Good heavens, Crystal thought, they’ve left the house open and gone away.
The house was absolutely empty, and wide open. Crystal moved herself in, and found a cozy little apartment in the basement. She had a warm shower, and ate the rest of the food she had brought with her. She could hear the refrigerator humming upstairs, but she didn’t dare steal any food. She sat, scared to death, on the sofa that doubled as a bed in the little basement apartment, and waited for dark. Were just the folks who lived upstairs gone, or was everybody gone?
She carefully got up, hid her backpack behind a bush near the kitchen, and checked out the entire house. Then she saw headlights approaching the house. Scared to death, she decided to hide in the coat closet near the front door. She could see everything from there, and could steal out from two different doors if necessary.
The headlights turned into the yard, and a woman got out, and disappeared into the basement. Crystal closed her eyes in fear. Had she moved anything downstairs? Had she dripped water on the floor? She’d hung the towel out on the back fence, in a fit of silliness; would it be noticed?
The woman banged about for an hour, put on her radio loud, singing along to some horrible Country songs, cursed for a while, watched TV for an hour, and went to sleep. Thank god, Crystal thought, she had use the toilet already. She needed to pee, but she was afraid to walk about.
After sitting frozen for three hours, Crystal tiptoed to the kitchen, out the back, and relieved herself far from the house, near the woods at the back. Oh god, she prayed, please help me tonight; I will never, never break into a house again!
She left the backpack where it had been, hidden from view behind a thick rosebush, and sat in the kitchen, on the floor, and tried to sleep, in vain.
The basement woman awoke, clattered around for an hour, and drove away in a cloud of dust. Crystal got her backpack on, and was out of the house in a flash, and only slowed down once she had gotten far enough to feel safe.
The traffic was very heavy. Crystal wasn’t hungry anymore; she wasn’t thirsty. She had drunk what was left in her water bottle, and was fine. She just wanted to move on.
Bravely, she got on the highway, and marched, and was across the border, and soon she was approaching an enormous city, which had to be St Paul. She had made it.
She ate at a restaurant, a good brunch, to make up for her two missed meals, but not too much that she couldn’t handle it. She knew that eating too heavily made it hard to walk. Now she needed to head north and west, to Ferguson. There had been only two Janets who were principals in Minnesota, and Crystal had decided on checking out the closer one first. The other Janet was at a school further north and further west.
Chapter 2
Crystal’s father had looked for her in Philadelphia a couple of days before checking with his wife. He had learned that the car was in the driveway, and flown back. All her things were in the car, and they first jumped to the conclusion that she had decided to kill herself.
“There has to be a note in here, somewhere!” he cried, out of his mind in fear and grief, and sure enough, there was a note in an envelope, outside, under the wiper blade.
The writing was barely legible, written in pencil.
“Dear Mom and Dad,“She’s going to be fine? What in hell is wrong with the girl? My god, I got her a place at Penn! Does she understand what that means? Has she no brains at all? ”
“I’m fine. I’m dropping out of school, but I’m going to be fine. Please don’t look for me. I’m going to write to you, but you mustn’t hunt for me. I’m going to write you in a couple of weeks.
“Love, Crystal.”
“No,” said Crystal’s mother, sarcastically, “she takes after me. And she’s a girl. Two problems.”
“I’m going to find her!”
“Leave her alone for a day or two, Bill; what are you going to do, haul her in, and have her run away in a month?”
“So that’s it? She’s run away from home? A bit late, isn’t it?”
“Bill, relax. If she gets in trouble, she’ll call.”
“How can you be so unconcerned?”
That was too much for the woman. She smashed the plate she had been washing, and hurried off, covering her face with her apron.
Three days later, Crystal was in Ferguson. She was down to her last hundred dollars, and had learned to sleep by the side of the road in bushes and under trees. She had lost weight, and living in a constant state of anxiety had taken its toll. Every morning she sat down and carefully combed out her precious hair, and calmed herself down. This lasted for about an hour, by which time her fears would catch up with her again.
To be in Ferguson, though, was a wonderful feeling. It was almost heaven; pretty farms and homes and stores lined the one main road, and a lane led up a hill to the big private school.
Ferguson School!
Crystal headed into the town, and got a room at the inn. Ferguson Inn was a lovely old place, all stone, and a room was just forty dollars, unbelievably inexpensive. The girl at the counter smiled at her, in spite of the sorry state she was in.
“You must be hiking,” she said, dimpling at Crystal prettily. Normally girls were rude to her, but this one was very friendly.
“Yes, I’m just wandering around, trying to spend as little money as I can,” Crystal admitted. “Listen, what’s the name of the principal of the school up there?”
“Oh, that’s Mrs Janet Kolb,” she said at once. “Is that where you’re headed?”
“No, I was curious. What does she look like?”
“Oh, tall, really strong and efficient-looking, like a soldier. But she’s very nice,” the girl insisted, “and she has a cute daughter, just the sweetest thing. And there’s little Erin up there with them, … anyway, about Miss Janet: she’s like I said, a tall brunette, a little grey on her temples. That who you’re looking for?”
Crystal shrugged. She looked away. “I guess I have to see her,” she said. “I can stay a couple of days, I guess. Is it cheaper if I pay in advance?”
The girl laughed. “No, it’s the same. It’s cheaper if you’re a student, though—are you a student?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Let’s see your ID, then.”
Crystal looked at her, sizing her up. Was this a trick? Was there a lookout for Crystal Baxter, a blue-eyed, redheaded girl running away from home?
She lowered her backpack, and hunted for her wallet.
“University of Pennsylvania! Wow, that’s Ivy League!”
“Yeah, hm-hmm,” said Crystal, hiding her nervousness.
“You must be really smart,” the girl said. “Did you know who was principal just before Miss Janet? It was Helen Nordstrom! She’s famous, do you know her?”
Crystal took her card back and put it away.
“Helen Nordstrom … oh, wait, isn’t she the woman who acts in the Galaxy Show?”
“Uh huh! That’s her! Can you believe she lived right here! Right in Ferguson House, up there! She and Miss Janet were friends. Oh, she was the nicest, sweetest woman, ever! I can hardly believe I know someone who’s famous!”
“So, how much do you charge, with a student ID?”
“Twenty-five dollars a night! Good thing I asked, huh!”
That evening, Crystal was stunned to see Janet walking down the street, outside the inn. She watched through the window, as Janet went into the post office, and five minutes later, head back to the road that went up the hill, and go towards the school and the fabulous Ferguson House. Her search was over.
Two days later, Crystal had found work in the little town a couple of miles down the road, at a supermarket. She had knocked at the door of a house in which an old lady lived by herself, and offered to do housekeeping in exchange for a room.
“My husband has gone away, ma’am, and I have been thrown out of my parents’ house. I just need a place until I’m on my feet again.”
“Young lady, I don’t know anything about you; you could be gone in the morning, with all my silver! Put yourself in my position. How can I trust you, dear?”
She had watched Crystal, as the girl pondered the problem. In her heart the woman had already decided that if there was any excuse to help the girl, she would. The enormous blue eyes wandered round the room. Was she casing the joint, sizing up the value of what was there? No, she was thinking. The eyes came to rest on the owner of the house.
“I see what you mean,” she said. She drummed her fingers on her thighs for a while, her eyes roaming around as she thought furiously. “How about if you keep my things with you? It’s everything I have in the world,” she said, “you can keep it locked up in your room for a week, or until you’re sure I mean no harm?”
“Okay,” smiled the woman. “I’m Agnes Harris. What’s your name?”
“Chrissy Baxter, Ma’am.” She knew exactly how lucky she had been, but she was also very aware of her own worth. Even if Miss Harris did not know it, she had helped a kindhearted, hard-working girl. Her eyes shone as she felt relief flood through her. “If not for you, I could be homeless very easily,” she said. There was no pretense in her manner at all. “And I could never get a job. I have to hurry to the store, Ma’am; here, keep the bag.”
“All right,” said Mrs Harris. “Don’t you want to see your room first?”
“That can wait,” said Crystal, “I have to get the job.”
Fifteen minutes later, she had the job—a mere $400 a week—and the room, with a few of her clothes neatly laid out on the closet shelves, and the rest of her things in Mrs Harris’s bedroom, locked away. Ms Harris shared her nice warm supper with Crystal, and then Crystal gratefully went to bed.
She started work the following day at seven. She slipped out of the house, her hair beautifully combed and tied carefully back, neatly dressed in jeans and sneakers, with a light jacket against the early morning chill. She knew absolutely nothing of working in a grocery, except what she had observed. She had never worked for even an hour her whole life; her father was an affluent businessman, and her parents had given her everything she had ever wanted. But she was a lot brighter than she gave herself credit for, and she learned fast. She was very respectful to her fellow-workers, and even more respectful to the customers. She did all the work she was asked to do, as fast as she could, and even helped her co-workers. She shelved, and mopped, and shelved and mopped, and fetched and carried, until she was done by four.
Her first meal for the day had been at eleven, when her new friend Meredith had shared an enormous sub with her. “It was $3 for a foot, so I bought one. Here, have some!”
“Oo, this is good,” said Crystal, “I’ll buy you one when I get paid!”
“Are you broke? Would you like some cash to keep with you?”
“N-no, no, I’m fine,” stammered Crystal.
Meredith reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of notes. “Here,” she said, giving Crystal a $20 bill.
“When do we get paid?” asked Crystal softly, resuming her chewing.
“Friday.”
“I’ll pay you back Friday, promise.”
“Okay!” she had replied cheerily. Meredith liked Crystal, and she was kind of pretty. But Crystal kept her eyes carefully on her work, and on people’s faces, afraid that she would get an unsavory reputation.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had to work so early? I had been up for hours, Chrissy! What time do you start work tomorrow, then?”
“Seven, again,” Crystal said, smiling at her landlady. “I had lunch at work, and I have a little money, if you need something brought for supper,” she added.
Ms Harris laughed. “Supper is ready; we just have to heat it up, dear. What time will you be getting hungry?”
That evening, Crystal walked back to Ferguson, dressed carefully, not to attract too much attention, and sat at the local ice-cream parlor, sipping tea and watching the street. She wore a hat, to cover her hair, the only concession she made to the fact that she was a fugitive. The more suspicious she acted, she thought, the more conspicuous she made herself.
Presently Janet walked down the road, dressed for a walk, walked up the main street and disappeared from view. Crystal waited for an hour, and headed home, just in time for supper.
“Where have you been?” demanded Ms Harris.
“I went exploring,” Crystal said. “I like to walk, it’s the only exercise I get,” she explained.
Crystal settled into the routine, and after the third week, she got her things back from Ms Harris. She had already paid her $300, in addition to helping clean up the house, and Ms Harris declared that that was more than all the silver in the house was worth. “I wrote and told my son all about you,” she said, “and if anything happens to me, they know whom to look for!” Crystal went white, and Ms Harris laughed. “I was just joking, dear; it was a joke! A terrible joke; I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mean you any harm, Ms Harris,” she said, “I’m grateful for your kindness. What did you tell your son?”
“Why, that I had got a companion, called Chrissy, and that she’s the sweetest young woman I could hope to find!”
Chrissy’s face relaxed, and Mrs Harris was treated to a brilliant smile. The conversation changed subject, and both women forgot about the little exchange.
Crystal soon learned that Janet walked a circuit every afternoon, around six; she walked down the street, along main street, and then up the other end of the road that led up the hill; it was a loop that joined up with Main Street about five miles further on.
It was wonderful to see Janet walking along, briskly, for exercise, but with a smile on her face that indicated a relaxed frame of mind. At first, Crystal had been afraid that Janet would look up and recognize her. But she never looked into the little store. Once, though, she had come in with a little girl of about thirteen, and two tall blonde kids, a boy and a girl, who had all eaten ice creams, seated just a few feet from Crystal. She had hardly breathed for half an hour, and kept her head buried in her newspaper.
Janet’s soft, cultured voice had blended with the quiet chatter of the little kid, and the banter of the older kids. Janet Kolb. That was her Janet’s name! Who were the kids? The tall blonde girl looked a lot like the tall blonde she had seen at the Philly airport. Had that been the lady from Galaxy? Crystal tried to remember the face of the tall blonde again. Vicky had said that the tall blonde in Philly had been Janet’s former lover. Crystal longed to take a good look at the little group, seated so fearfully close to her, but she didn’t dare.
Half an hour later, she ran all the way back, to make it in time for supper.
Ms Harris applied pressure on Crystal to go to church with her. Soon, she was sucked into church activities in the afternoons, and she couldn’t find the time to go look at Janet every day. Wednesdays were clear, but Tuesdays there was the youth fellowship, Thursdays was choir, and Fridays they had volunteered to arrange the church for the weekend’s activities.
“I’ve never gone in to church so many times in my life,” she had said, not quite complaining, to Agnes one night at supper.
Agnes had laughed. “I’m sorry to have got you involved so heavily, Chrissy; I thought you might like the company!”
“I do like the company,” she said quickly, “but I miss my walks!”
“Tell you what. I’ll do Fridays by myself. How’s that?”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure, go on,” Agnes said, “go exploring all you want! I was hoping you’d choose a young man from the youth group, that was my plan, but I know that wasn’t fair of me!”
Chrissy blushed bright red. “Oh Agnes … you mustn’t do that kind of thing!”
“Why not? What kind of life is this, working yourself to the bone, just to pay your rent?”
Crystal looked away. She would soon have to trust Agnes, and tell her the truth. In a few months she would be eighteen, and nobody could make her do what she didn’t want to do.
At least she could observe Janet, from a distance, a couple of times a week. For a little more than a minute, thrice a week, she could study the lovely woman. Occasionally she would stop and talk to someone, as beautiful as a queen. Sometimes she went into the post office, and when she came out, she was facing directly into Crystal’s window. It was all Crystal could do, not to follow her all the way home.
She sat at the window, planning her move. Some day soon, she would have to meet Janet. Do you remember me? It’s Crystal; you came to my room, and you … we slept together. Do you know how you have changed my life, stolen my heart, made me your prisoner?
No, she had to make Janet want to talk to her. She had to woo her. She had to convince Janet that she was getting a quality human being, not some useless burden. Someone who Janet could be proud of. Suddenly Crystal knew the enormous flaw in her plan. Janet could only go for a girl who had a college degree.
“I want to go to college,” Crystal told Agnes that night at supper. “I’m a nobody! Nobody will want me … I have to go to college … get a degree … what have I been thinking?”
She was so distraught that Agnes was perturbed. “Maybe you should talk to your parents again, Chrissy. It’s been a month; maybe they’ll be willing to reconsider.”
Chrissy shrugged. She forced a smile. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I won’t run off and leave you without notice; it’s just that … going to college is so—is such a hard thing! Thinking of college makes me scared.”
“Oh, it isn’t all that hard,” said Agnes. “I graduated from Bemidji with a degree in history, and it was easy. Of course, it helped that I like history,” she added, laughing.
“You liked college?”
“Of course! That’s where I met Mr Harris, and we got married right after I graduated!”
“Is there … is there a, um, a state university near here?”
“Oh yes, lots of them. There’s a two-year school close by, very inexpensive, and you can collect credits to attend a bigger school. If you do really well, you could easily transfer to the University of Minnesota, or wherever you like.”
Crystal hardly slept that night. She had to go back to college. She just knew that without a degree, Janet would never look at her. Well, that wasn’t true; she would be kind and polite, but—they would never be partners. There could be no love between those who weren’t equals. She’d learned that in sociology class. It was a scientific fact.
Then Crystal got the shock of her life. It was around ten O’clock one Friday, she was stocking a shelf, happy as a clam, when she had turned round to see Janet walking towards her, just a few feet away. They had both stared at each other, frozen.
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