Rising Read online

  ~Hawaii—Six Months Later~

  A fine mist of rain slicked over Sara, dampening her clothes as the wind plastered her hair against her face. With both hands occupied pushing her wheelchair, there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. She pursed her lips to keep her hair from getting into her mouth.

  Why oh why didn’t I notice how late it was? Grasping the cold metal rings on her wheelchair, she bumped over the buckled surface of the darkened parking lot.

  She focused on the dilapidated building ahead. The dark shape loomed tall. Light flickered from a pole, high above. It cast knarled shadows on the already menacing building below, making the image worthy of any horror movie she’d ever seen.

  Sara scowled and grumbled. “Home sweet home.”

  She hated being out after dark, especially in her neighborhood. All around Oahu shined pristine neighborhoods—places where tourists poured out their money. But if one looked deeper, they’d find pockets of poverty. Sara lived deep in one of those pockets. Her tiny shoebox apartment gleamed as the one clean spot in her grimy, run-down building. She’d worked hard scrubbing the filth away as soon as she moved in two months ago.

  Cleaning her apartment was quite the reveal. It started out looking brown and grey, but after a thorough cleaning, she was left with oranges, greens, browns, and dirty yellows—compliments of the 60s.

  She didn’t have the luxury of being choosy about decor. She’d rented this apartment because it was the only place she could afford. Her meager earnings didn’t provide much in the ways of clean, modern style along with the privacy she required.

  She felt better if she thought about how bad it could be. A year ago, she’d lived with her mother. Anywhere was better than living with her.

  Sara bumped over the curb onto the sidewalk. The blanket covering her chair billowed in the cool breeze. No worries there. It would take a hurricane to tear it loose. Her embarrassing deformity would remain hidden from the world.

  A creepy, crawly feeling tickled her spine.

  Someone’s eyes were on her.

  Sara’s looked around. She held her head still, careful not to turn it. She didn’t want whoever it was to know she was aware of their presence. She couldn’t see anything but the outline of cars behind a curtain of misted rain. Still, she started to freak.

  She jerked her wheelchair to a stop at the front door and yanked out her keys. Her hands were shaking so hard that they couldn’t move fast enough to settle her frantic mind.

  She almost dropped her keys as tires screeched in the street. A dark SUV had stopped in the middle of the road for no apparent reason—probably a drive-by shooter taking aim. Please, just let me get into my apartment and I’ll be safe.

  “Sara, I’m surprised to see you out this late.” A voice emerged from the darkness.

  Sara squeaked out a cry as her heart catapulted against her chest wall. She breathed a sigh of relief as her friend stepped up beside her. “Oh, Gretchen, it’s you. You scared the life out of me.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Gretchen didn’t look at all surprised that she’d scared her—probably because she knew her so well.

  Sara finally got the key in the lock and turned it. As Gretchen pushed the door open for her, Sara glanced up. Gretchen stood as calm as a mountain lake on a windless night—her normal demeanor. At a very un-formidable height of five feet with a model-thin frame, Gretchen’s confidence must come from inside.

  Sara’s insecurities came mostly from her mother, who reinforced them on a daily basis. Now her mother was just a negative voice in Sara’s mind. Yeah, she’d tried to banish her from there, too, but it had been harder than expected.

  A year earlier, Sara had left her mother to live on her own. A lot can happen in a year. Now Sara had her own place, a small, web-design business, and twenty-seven dollars in her checking account that needed to last for a little more than a week.

  “I don’t know why you don’t just room with me,” Gretchen offered for the hundredth time. “I’m rarely home, you could work from there just as well as you work from here, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the scumbags.”

  As if on cue, Sara saw her neighbor Slink slither out of his apartment. She had no idea what his real name was. Maybe his mother took one look at his face and decided the name fit. With his emaciated body and greasy black hair, it sure fit him now.

  Slink gave Sara a creepy smile and a once-over that made her anxious for a shower and scrub brush. Yeah, she wished she didn’t have to deal with the scumbags.

  “Gretchen.” Sara used her I-don’t-want-to-hear-it tone.

  “I know, I know. You and your space.” Gretchen followed Sara down the dark, narrow hallway. Sara held her breath as Slink passed her. She’d made the mistake of breathing in the putrid air from his wake once and had never forgotten it.

  “Sara, look, I think you ought to see Dr. Yauney. He’s very good. And he is completely discreet.”

  Sara suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “Is this about my legs or my mental health?”

  “Um, he’s the psychiatrist,” Gretchen answered softly, taking a quick glance at Slink’s retreating figure.

  Sara opened the door to her apartment and, of course, Gretchen followed her inside without being invited in. Did no one teach this girl manners?

  “Dr. Yauney excels in treating phobias. You don’t have to work on all of them at once. Just pick one to start. You have a lot to choose from. Let’s see, you have a fear of water, doctors, strangers, a fear of people seeing your body, and… oh yeah, a relationship fear.”

  “Relationship fear?” Sara raised one eyebrow. This one was new.

  Gretchen picked up a handful of pretzels from a glass jar on the counter and popped one into her mouth. “Yes, relationship fear. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

  Never, thank goodness. But of course, Sara didn’t say that out loud.

  “I know you get plenty of men checking you out,” Gretchen said. “You’re one gorgeous woman and completely oblivious to the attention you get from the opposite sex. You just need to flirt a bit. I think you should start with Ron Hathaway.”

  Sara raised her eyebrows.

  “I saw you checking him out,” Gretchen said. “He is quite delectable.”

  “You think half the men on the island are delectable. Besides, I’m happy with my life the way it is. I don’t need a boyfriend messing that up.” Sure, deep down, she wanted one, but a relationship was out of the question.

  “You’re happy?” Gretchen looked doubtful.

  “Yes, I’m happy.” Sara put on her best smile.

  “You could’ve fooled me.”

  Sara’s smile vanished. “Listen, my life has never been better. My web-design business is booming. Before long, I’ll be able to afford to rent a better place.” In a year or two or ten. She kept that part to herself. “I just wish you’d stop trying to fix me. There’s no fixing me.”

  “As long as you keep believing that…”

  “It’s true. So stop trying.”

  Sara wheeled toward the refrigerator and grabbed a plate of leftover lasagna. She refused to offer Gretchen any. She didn’t even want her here. Well, okay, maybe she did after the scare in the parking lot, but she certainly didn’t want Gretchen hassling her.

  Gretchen continued to munch on pretzels as she spoke between bites. “I can’t stop trying to help. You’re my best friend. Listen, I know you had a rough childhood, but that doesn’t have to damage you for life. With help, I know you can find a way to move beyond it. And whatever your legs look like, it can’t be as bad as you make them out to be. Good grief, you won’t even let a doctor see your legs.”

  “I should have never told you that.”

  “Well, you did and you can’t take it back.”

  “I don’t need anyone’s help. I can take care of myself. Listen Gretchen, I’m really tired. I’m going to turn in early. So…”

  “Yeah, all right.” Gretchen shrugge
d away from the counter and stepped toward the door. “I’ll see you Tuesday. Remember, you promised to help me sew the drapes for my bedroom.”

  “I remember. Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

  Gretchen glanced back. Disappointment showed in her smile as she slipped out the door.

  Sara sighed at the blessed silence.

  Less than an hour later, blanketed in darkness, she buried her face in her pillow and cried herself to sleep.