|
|
Chapter 32
Brian
Weary, I shifted my duffel bag on my shoulder. I glanced down at the paper in my hand. Yep, this was the address. It was three days ago I went thought the phone book and looked up every Hunter in the Mississippi State. Fortunate for me there was only…a hundred or more.
I rolled my eyes at the thought. I wasn't even close to being done, but I was hoping on hoping everytime I went to a door that was Maranda's parent's house. So far not even the biggest of hopes helped.
This house was quaint. It was a small cottage-y house. A pink bike was turned on its side near the sidewalk. My heart sunk. This was probably not the house. Maranda was an only child. But I decided to try. If the Hunter's did live here and they just moved the new residents maybe able to redirect him to the house, relieving him of his search.
I pushed the little white picked fence, gate open and latched it behind of myself. I walked up to the house and after a deep breath rang the doorbell. I rocked back on my heals while I waited.
"Can I help you?" A girl, around 6 or 7 by my guess, answered the door; wisely leaving the screen door locked and latched shut.
"Hi, is your mommy or daddy home?"
"We don't want any." The little girl folded her arms over her chest in defiance.
"Excuse me?"
"What ever you're selling, in that black bag, we don't want it. Mamma said no selling. Can you read?" She pointed to the sticker on the metal of the screen door. It said, 'no solicitors, no trespassors'.
"I'm not selling anything, honest. I just wanted to know your parents last name."
"Why not ask me? It's my last name too." The girl spat the words like fire.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No, I just don't trust men. Not unless their dada. Men are mean. A man took my siser."
"Your sister? Why?"
"She was ni...nie…I don't know the word momma used."
"Nieve?"
"Yeah. She was that. She went with a man and never came back. Her old boyfriend cried…a lot. That's what momma said."
"Was your sisters name Maranda?"
Her eyes widened and her hands dropped at her side. She was shocked and then smiled. She jumped for a moment. "Do me! Guess my name!"
"I'm sorry, I don't know your name. I know your sister though."
She gaped. "You do? How?"
"Are your parents home?"
In an instance the girl was running deep into the house screaming. "Momma, Momma…some man at the door knows…" Her voice faded as she ran though the house.
I let a deep breath I'd been holding pass though my lips before the woman came.
"Who are you?" The woman came to the door drying her hands; she'd been washing dishes.
"I'm Brain Littrell. Did you watch your daughter on CNN?"
"Yes."
"I'm the guy she watched."
Her hand went to her throat and she dropped her rag. "You…you…" She near started hyperventilating.
"Momma?" The little girl came and stood by her.
"Let me in so I can help her to a seat." I pleaded.
"OK." She unlocked the door and I patted her head as I dropped my bag to the floor and helped the woman to a chair.
"Do you have a small lunch bag honey?" I asked the little girl.
Her eyes went wide with excitement, but then the task at hand came back to her. She was gone and back with the small paper bag. I held it up the woman's mouth and asked her to take deep breaths. She nodded and did so.
After she resumed normal breathing she asked her daughter to go play and then invited me into the kitchen for something to drink. Though I wasn't thirsty, I assumed it was a comfort measure for her and excepted.
"I'd like to apologize, but I don't know how. My daughter…she's not like she was when I raised her."
"Please don't apologize. I wouldn't accept."
"Why not?" She frowned.
"She's the best thing that ever happened to me." I laughed to myself. "It seems now that I love her I've scared her. She's got a guard rail like I've never seen." I looked up at Maranda's mom. "She's a very affectionate girl, but when she's the one on the receiving end she turns around and looks at her mistakes and thinks that no one can love her."
"She's always had too much of her father in her. The need for adventure, the need to give love and the trouble of receiving it." She sat and handed me a can of coke.
I popped it and took only a small sip. Maranda's mother's eyes were wide and unfocused. She was there but seemed to be taking in far too much.
"Mrs. Hunter maybe I went about this all wrong. Should I have let Maranda contact you?"
"No, good heavens no." She covered her hand over mine. Her eyes were as sharp as tacks now. "I wanted desperately to know how she was, but afraid I scare her off again."
I nodded and looked down at the pop can. "I know what you mean. She's strong in everything except…except letting herself be loved."
"She's a lucky girl. I saw a small clip of your testomony. They aren't releasing most of the trial. I swear, it's hard to know anything about it." She was up and moving to the counter. Absently cleaning, trying to keep herself buisy.
"Uh, I haven't seen too much TV." I chuckled. "What excactly did you see?"
"Well I didn't see anything. Though from the radio clip I wish I could have." She turned and smiled. "You really cried for my daughter?"
Kevin
I tried to get a hold of Brian for the third time. There wasn't an emergance, but I was beging to form one in my mind. Why hadn't Brian checked in? He always does when he's traveling alone.
I picked up the phone in a rush when it rang. "Hello?"
"Hey Kev. What's up?" It was Howie.
"Nothing."
"Man, sorry to disapoint you so bad." He chuckled. "I was just checking to see if Bri called."
Brian
She seemed a little surprised I wasn't embarassed to say yes. I was too infact. I had cried and in the courtroom I was a little embarrassed. I was also still a little mad, but I've come to relize that Maranda was just doing her job.
"Momma, I'm hungry." The little girl came in. She looked so much like Maranda.
The little girl had her hair up in two curly pigtails. She had beautiful green eyes and Maranda's smile. She was just as defensive too. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at that.
"OK, sweety, I'll make you something. What do you want?"
"Pizza rolls!" The little cheered. Now that her mom was buisy-making lunch she turned to me. "What's your name again?"
"Brian."
She climbed into her mother's chair. "My name is Honey. You know why?" The girl's eyes danced with excitement.
"Because…you're hair looks like honey?" With the light shining on it gave it little blonde streeks.
The little girl looked at her pigtail and giggled. She shook her head. "No."
"Um…" I taped my finger against my cheek, as if in deep thought and the little girl giggled some more. "Your laugh?"
She giggled and shook her head.
"Your…skin?"
She looked down at her taned hands and giggled some more.
"OK, I give up. What is it?"
"Dada said when I was born that I made his heart feel as sweet as honey. So he named me Honey." She giggled, winning.
"I think that's a very good name."
"You can call me Hon. Momma and Dada don't cus they said it's hard enough to get my attention with the name Honey, but you can."
She clapped her hands when her mother set a plate of pizzia rolls in front of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~