Flight [ Nathan Poole Shannon ]

Jill sat at the table in the cheap motel room, feeling the soft night breeze drift through the open window. The TV droned softly in the background, painting the dingy room in a flickering, pale blue light. Hayley slept quietly in the far bed, mercifully dreaming.

The motel was run-down, but it was four hours away from Brian, and that was what mattered. It wasn’t a pretty place but it had a pretty name, the Dream Garden. It was on the bank of the river, and Jill thought that come morning, it might actually have a nice view of the water. 

The ancient wood grain clock radio said 11:17. Jill had wanted to watch the 11:00 news, to see if there was anything about Brian on there. Hayley was exhausted and Jill was grateful she had fallen asleep so quickly.

Jill had turned channel 67 on right at 11:00, and sure enough the familiar broadcast team appeared. Your local news first, the station promised, and they covered a few local Brownsville stories off the top. No mention of Brian. When they started talking about growing tensions in Myanmar, Jill felt a weight lift off her heart. The news, like the world, moved on.

She lowered the volume on the TV and checked on Hayley. She slept with the innocence that only a five-year-old could; she clutched her ratty stuffed dog and her thumb was crooked close to her mouth. Her breath rose and fell with quiet regularity. I’ll have to take her to a doctor, she thought. First thing tomorrow. Jill tiptoed to the other bed and fished her phone, cigarettes and lighter out of her purse. As quietly as possible, she slipped outside. She glanced in through the big picture window, seeing Hayley still asleep, unmoving.

She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Smoking rooms were a thing of the deep past, even in places like this. She’d quit three years ago, but had started again a few months back when things were getting bad at home. She hated herself for doing it, the dirty, awful habit. The expense of it. Keeping it hidden from Hayley and Brian. But it helped. 

Jill paced back and forth. The dented bumper of the old Cherokee, right outside their room, reflected her distorted, misshapen. She could hear the deep croak of the bullfrogs in the river. Jill looked up, and in the corner of the room’s window there was a papery husk of a wasps’ nest. It looked dead, abandoned.

She looked back inside. The TV was showing baseball highlights, having moved on to sports. The cigarette was mostly gone; she took one more drag off of it, and tossed it out into the parking lot. It landed with a spray of sparks. Ah, what the hell, she thought, then pulled out another and lit it. She saw her reflection in the window.

She looked horrible. Her curly, reddish hair looked like a rat’s nest, and even in the poor light and double-paned reflection she could see the darkness under her eyes. The woman staring back at her wore misshapen clothes, jeans that were too high in the waist and baggy in the seat, and a formless, faded t-shirt with Pluto the dog on it. Jill looked away, down at her phone. She called Trisha, rubbing her thumb in the corner of her eye where a headache was pulsing.

“Hello?” Trisha answered. Jill nearly cried when she heard her friend’s voice.

“Hi, Trish,” she said. There was a slight pause as Trisha realized who was calling.

“Jilly! Hi! How are you?” Another slight pause. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, still rubbing in the corner of her eye. “Trish- I left Brian.”

“Oh my God!” Trisha exclaimed. “What happened? Where are you?” Jill’s lip quivered, and even though she didn’t want to, she started to cry.

“We’re at some little motel called the Dream Garden,” she said. “I have Hayley with me.”

“Oh, thank God,” Trisha sighed. “I mean, Jill, I don’t want to say I told you so,” she trailed off. “I’m just so happy you two are safe.”

“Yeah,” Jill answered.

“Where are you? Where’s this motel? Clark and I will come get you. Tonight. Right now.” 

“No, no,” Jill said. “We’re okay here for tonight. But I was hoping we could come see you tomorrow.”

“Yes! Of course!” Trisha enthused. “As soon as you can get here, and you two can stay as long as you need to.” Jill reached down, pulled the collar of the Pluto shirt up and wiped her eyes with it. She looked at it and the cartoon dog’s face was damp and smeared with a smudge of eyeliner.

“Thank you,” Jill said. “Thanks so much. Both of you.”

“We love you, Jilly,” Trisha replied. “Just come as soon as you can. Get here safe. Okay?” Jill nodded. “Is there anything you need? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I hate to say it,” Jill replied, guiltily. She took a deep breath. “Could you send me a hundred bucks? My credit card is maxed out and my cash is almost gone after paying for the room.”

“Yes! Absolutely! I’m sending it right now! Hang on, let me put you on speaker.” Jill could hear the clicking of the phone keyboard as Trisha opened up her bank app. A digital whoosh sound followed. “There!”

The phone in Jill’s hand vibrated softly. She pulled it away from her ear and glanced at the notification.

AutoDeposit notification: it read, Trisha Emerick sent you $1,000.

“My God!” Jill exclaimed. “Trisha, what did you send me that for? Take it back, I only need a hundred bucks. That’s too much!”

“Oh, stop,” Trisha said. “You take care of that little girl and you get here safe. Clark and I will be waiting for you. If you need us, call us.” She added with heavy emphasis: “Anything.”

“Thank you,” Jill sniffled.

“We love you, Jilly. Give Hayley a kiss goodnight from both of us.”

“Love you too,” Jill said.

She hung up the phone and stood up off the bumper of the beat-up Cherokee. She looked at her reflection again, that slightly blurred, double-pane image. Through herself, she could see Hayley gently asleep. She shuddered at her own image, there in the glass with the poorly-fitting, dumpy clothes. There in the glass with the wild hair and the run makeup. She looked ghastly to herself.

So that’s what a murderer looks like, she thought grimly.

Jill had met Brian at a bar called the Hart three years before. She’d come after work with her friends, but ended up leaving that night with her new boyfriend. He was good-looking and well-spoken, and he’d told her all about his baby daughter, Hayley. He showed her pictures on his phone, from a red-faced, squalling newborn to newly taken photos with waves of soft blonde hair spilling over her tiny shoulders.

“She’s so beautiful!” Jill had marveled. “You and your wife are so lucky to have such a beautiful baby girl.”

“Well, you’d think,” Brian had said. He took a pull on his beer. “Wife left. It’s just me and Hayley now.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible! How are you managing?” Jill had no kids of her own and she only had a vague idea of how much work kids were, especially raising one alone.

“Well, I’ve learned how to change a mean diaper,” he’d told her with a laugh. “And I can pull those little dinosaur chicken nuggets out of the oven at the exact right time.”

“I bet you’re a great dad,” Jill said, smiling. She set her elbow on the bar and looked hard at him. “You need a woman’s touch. With the baby... and otherwise,” she added with a giggle. The gin and tonic glass, her third of the night, was emptied, gone to her head.

“Maybe I do,” he said and finished his beer. They wobbled out of the bar together.

I should never have gone home with him, she thought, staring at the double image of herself and Hayley in the motel window. He seemed so great, they always do. She lit another cigarette and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the night air.

Three months later, she had moved in with Brian and Hayley, and six months after that they were married in a civil ceremony. Jill had quit smoking- if I’m going to be around the baby I can’t be smoking, she reasoned to herself. Brian didn’t want a church service or anything ‘fancy’ so they went to the courthouse. The only other people present were a justice of the peace and little Hayley, happily holding a spray of flowers she’d bought.

“How much did you pay for that?” Brian asked Jill when she’d first brought them home. “I told you, nothing fancy.”

“Well, Hayley’s going to be our flower girl,” Jill said, smiling nervously. “She needs some flowers.” She set the bouquet on the counter and picked the girl up from where she sat on the floor. Hayley giggled and smiled at her stepmother’s kind touch.

“It’s stupid,” Brian had said. “Jesus Christ, Jill, those flowers are bigger’n her. What were you thinking?” He stalked off and slammed the bedroom door. The sound frightened Hayley and Jill spoke quietly to calm her.

After about a year of being married to a man whose primary methods of communication were screaming and silence, one night came when Brian hit Jill. She’d come home from work later than he’d expected.  

“I told you I had to stay late tonight, one of the other girls booked off,” she pleaded as he loomed over her. Without any warning, a slap thundered across her face. Shocked, she gingerly touched her cheek, her skin tender and tingling.

“You never said anything to me about that, you liar,” Brian seethed. “Hayley’s hungry, she hasn’t had her supper because you’re out running around while she sits here starving.” Hayley started crying at the outburst, and he stomped out. “You deal with her,” he screamed back over his shoulder and was gone.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” she said gently as she could. “Come here and see mama.” Hayley was sitting in the high chair that she was getting too big for. Jill went to her, picked her up, smoothing the girl’s hair and gently bouncing Hayley in her arms. “Do you want some dinos? Yummy dinos?” Jill began to cry as she talked to the girl. Not for herself so much as for Hayley. She finally did eat some dinos, the chicken nuggets that Brian had once bragged about, and both Hayley and Jill were asleep, curled up together on the couch, before Brian came home.

Slaps became normal, part of the routine. A few times it had been fists. Twice, a belt. Hayley would always cry when it happened, screaming no, daddy, no! at the top of her tiny voice. Jill did her best not to scream when he hit her, trying not to scare the girl. Hayley was turning four when the violence became almost a daily occurrence. 

Jill turned away from the room window and stared down towards the river, where the frogs still croaked musically. She could feel the cool air from the water and rubbed her hands on her arms to keep warm. She didn’t want to go inside yet, didn’t want to risk waking Hayley with the creaky door.

She had started smoking again when the hitting started, being careful not to smell of it. She kept her cigarettes and lighter in her glovebox and always made sure to sanitize her hands and have mint gum on hand to mask the tobacco smell. Something like that was so hard to keep a secret, and when Brian finally did find out, he beat her again.

“I’m sorry!” she screamed as Brian kept hitting. “I’ll stop! I promise! Please!” Hayley was screaming too, standing red faced, helplessly watching.

“Some stepmother you are!” Brian raged, and shoved her into the wall. She slumped down beside the fridge. Hayley, still screaming no, no, ran to her and jumped into Jill’s arms. “Oh, that’s just great,” Brian roared. “Turning my own daughter against me.” He kicked his heavy, work-booted foot out and the glass front of the oven shattered. He paused, panting. “Fuck you,” he spat, and left.

Things had settled down for a bit after that. Brian was apologetic when he got home the next morning, admitting he’d lost control and promising to change, to treat the women of the house better. That isn’t me, he promised Jill. I don’t know what happened, and I’m sorry. He was a bit better for a month or so, and Hayley even started letting him get close to her again. Every time he would come near when he was angry, she had run to Jill. She still flinched whenever Brian moved suddenly, but she was calming down.

That seems so far away now, she thought. In a different place, one that doesn’t have quiet nights listening to singing frogs. Where it’s not just me and Hayley.

Jill always made sure to tell him- more than once- whenever her work schedule changed. She remembered the beating after he’d claimed she was late home, and Hayley’s miserable red face screwed up in fear. 

“I’ll be home at six or so tonight,” she said as she slung her purse strap over her shoulder, heading out the door. Brian was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a fishing show.

“’Kay,” he grunted noncommittally. 

“Six,” Jill repeated.

“I got it,” he said, irritated. 

“I’ll come in tonight and kiss you goodnight,” Jill told Hayley, who smiled. It was a brave smile, Jill recalled. She always looked so brave whenever I had to leave her alone with him.

Standing in the cool air outside the motel room, Jill started to cry again, remembering.

Right at the stroke of six, Jill had walked in the door. Brian wasn’t on the couch. Probably passed out and gone to bed, she thought. She went to look in on Hayley as she’d promised. She stepped softly down the hallway to Hayley’s door, with the blue and pink elephant stickers on it. It was pulled around but not latched.

Jill had pushed open the door and they were both in the bed. She couldn’t see Hayley at first past Brian’s bulk. What is he- she realized what she’d walked in on. Her eyes widened painfully in horror and her mouth fell open. No words would come, only a shrill scream.

Brian stopped, his head whipping around to see his wife standing there. He immediately jumped off of Hayley, and as he moved away, Jill saw the blood.

“Jill! Wait, baby, it’s not what it looks like!” he yelled, reaching out plaintively to Jill. Hayley began to scream, in pale, fragile terror.

Jill turned and ran out of the room.

“Jill!” his voice bellowed along the hall behind her. She raced to the kitchen, her mind blank in shock. “Jill!” he screamed again as he came up behind her. Reflexively, she reached around, her hand finding the cast iron pan, still crusted with the remnants of last night’s dinner. She swung, and the side of the heavy pan hit Brian in the temple with a thick, wet crunch. He fell immediately to the floor, limp.

She shuddered, realizing what she’d done. She looked down at Brian, who lay in a spreading pool of blood on the worn linoleum. The side of his head was horribly crumpled. She dropped the heavy pan.

Instinct kicked in, and she stepped over Brian and fled to Hayley. She scooped up her screaming daughter and hugged her tightly.

“Hayley, baby,” she said, covering the child’s face in kisses. She was hot to the touch. “Come on, baby, we’re leaving. You’re safe now. I promise, baby. Mama promises.”

“Mamaaaaa!” Hayley wailed. Jill held her tight until the screams quieted, her breath coming in harsh hitches. 

“Come on, baby, we’ve got to get you cleaned up,” Jill said. She carried Hayley to the tub and ran warm water, washing gently. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, she noted with some relief. Cleaned up, Jill dressed Hayley and stuffed more clothes and a few of her things into a diaper bag. She changed her own clothes, grabbing the poor-fitting jeans and cartoon dog shirt, leaving her work clothes on the bedroom floor. There were spots of blood where she’d held Hayley.

One last look, she thought. Brian still lay in the blood, which had spread under the stove and fridge. He hadn’t moved.

She carried Hayley out to the car and they were gone. 

Four bleary hours later, driving half-blind through tears, Jill pulled into the Dream Garden motel. She booked a room- for me and my daughter, she’d said, pointedly not saying stepdaughter- and Hayley now slept soundly with her favorite ratty stuffed dog clutched close.

Jill had come inside the room again, slowly, quietly opening the door. Hayley’s face was relaxed and calm. Jill climbed into the near bed, exhausted, drained. She felt her own eyelids growing heavier. 

“I love you so much, Hayley,” she said softly to her sleeping daughter. Not stepdaughter. “We’re safe now.”

As if she had heard, a faint smile spread over Hayley’s face as she slept. That was what Jill saw as she fell asleep herself.

The End