Not Just A Girl

Part One – Arrival

1. New in Town

Roxanne faced the three boys in the parking lot in front of the convenience store. The boys blocked her way. Harsh florescent light poured through the store’s tall windows, creating rings of dirty yellow light around the boys’ heads. She couldn’t see their eyes, only the flash of their white teeth when they spoke.

Tall and slender, Roxanne’s raven black hair framed her oval face.

We know you’re not from around here, said the boy in the middle. He stood half a head shorter than Roxanne. His blond shaggy hair fell down around the collar of his dark shirt. He sucked on his cigarette and blew bluish-gray smoke into the darkness.

Hey, Danny, why don’t we check her ID? said the tall boy on the left with the shaved head and the hungry eyes.

Please let me pass, Roxanne said, taking a step towards them. I have business inside.

I got business inside, mocked the short boy missing one front tooth. Where’s your boyfriend, or are you working tonight?

The three boys snickered.

Maybe she’s a runaway, said the tallest boy.

Let’s take her for a ride in the convertible.

Shut up, Billy, said Danny, the boy in the middle.

Roxanne could see Danny’s dark calculating eyes sizing her up. She returned his stare and stood her ground. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Is this the City of Rockwood? Roxanne asked.

Where else would it be? said Billy.

Is that a Bible you’re carrying?

Roxanne held the white, book-shaped object tighter.

You’re at the city limits, Danny said. The town’s over there. He nodded to his left. We can drive you into town.

Billy laughed out loud, and the bald-headed boy shoved him.

Roxanne knew about boys like these, but never thought she would meet them so soon.

Thank you, but I’ll find my own way.

Must be that time of the month, Billy said.

Shut up! The bald-headed boy shoved Billy again.

Up yours, Rob, the short boy said and shoved back.

Roxanne took a couple of quick steps to the right, but Danny moved to block her way. He flicked his cigarette into the shadows and leaned in towards her.

Let’s go for a drive, he whispered. I've got a fifth of vodka in the car.

Just then two cars entered the parking lot behind them. The first car stopped in the empty parking space beside Roxanne and the three boys. A blonde woman dressed in a dark blue jacket and skirt stepped out of the car. She glanced at Roxanne, shook her head and walked towards the store.

A tall thin boy got out of the second car. He stood for a moment, and then walked towards them.

What's going on Danny? he asked.

Mind your own business, Firma, Danny said.

She's a friend of ours, said Rob.

This new boy stood as tall as Roxanne. He had short, light brown hair. He smiled at her and tiny lines formed around his blue eyes.

Are these guys giving you trouble? he asked.

They’ve asked me to go for a ride in their car, Roxanne said. Danny grinned and shook his head. Rob and Billy snorted and laughed. But I must go inside and find information about places to stay in Rockwood, she added.

The blonde woman walked out of the store carrying a brown paper bag. Roxanne and the four boys moved out of her way. She unlocked her car door and hesitated. She turned and took a good look at them.

Richie? she said. Richie Firma, is that you? Before he could answer, she continued. What are you boys doing hanging around out here on a school night? You should be home studying.

The blonde woman shifted her bag from one arm to the other and placed it inside on the car seat. What would your parents say if they knew you were wasting time like this? Have you been drinking? Is that what you’re doing out here? I should take your names and call your parents.

Before any of the boys could reply, the blonde woman took Roxanne by the wrist. Come along, young lady, she said. I'll drive you home.

It seemed pointless to say no, so Roxanne smiled and nodded and let the blonde woman lead her away from the four boys to the other side of the car.

The door’s unlocked, the blonde woman said.

As Roxanne opened the car door, the tallest boy, Richie Firma, turn away from the others and walked towards the store entrance. Danny and the other two boys stood watching

Roxanne slipped into the front seat. The slick fabric felt cool against the backs of her bare legs. Inside the car the sweet smell of flowers mingled with the smell of smoke.

The blonde woman pulled a strap across her shoulders and snapped one end into a steel buckle. Better buckle up, honey, she said. It’s the law.

Roxanne found the metal buckle of the safety belt and strapped herself into the seat. As the car rolled slowly backwards away from the store, Roxanne glanced over at the three boys. She couldn’t see their faces anymore, only the red glow of their cigarettes.

She still didn’t have a place to stay, and now she was being driven away from the place where she might have found that information.

My name's Althea Barnes, the blonde woman said, as she steered the car into the street and left the store behind.

2. Richie & Danny

Richie stopped at the store entrance and turned to watch Althea Barnes’ long white Cadillac disappear into the night with the dark-haired girl.

Inside the store a bald man stood behind the counter with his arms crossed.

I was just about to call the police, he said, as Richie took a bottle of aspirin off a shelf and set it on the counter.

Richie walked to the back of the store to the milk cooler.

I don't like gangs of you high school kids hanging around outside my store at night bothering my customers.

I told them to leave the girl alone, Richie said, setting a gallon of milk on the counter next to the aspirin and handing the bald man a twenty dollar bill.

Just tell your friends to leave before I call the cops. The bald man rang up Richie’s purchases, then handed him a receipt and change.

They’re not my friends, Richie said. But I'll tell them anyway.

Richie pocketed his change and walked towards the automatic doors at the front entrance. Danny’s red convertible still sat in the parking lot, but Richie didn’t see Danny or his friends.

As Richie opened his car door, a hand grab his arm.

Who asked you to butt in? Danny said.

Richie shrugged off Danny’s hand and turned to face him. I don’t have time for this, he said.

You scared her off! Danny shouted.

She got into Althea Barnes’ car.

That doesn’t matter.

Richie stood away from his car and squared his shoulders.

I bet you don't even know her name, he said.

So what? I was about to ask her when you showed up. Why can’t you learn to mind your own business?

The guy inside says he’s going to call the cops if you and your friends don’t get out of here.

Danny turned his head towards the store and spat on the ground.

It’s a free country, he said, Well do what we want.

He took a couple steps backwards, and Richie got into his Pontiac Trans Am and started the engine. The ten year old motor emitted a low growl. When he raced the engine, Danny took another step backwards.

Richie started to back up. Danny jutted out his chin, raised his foot and brought his heel down against the car’s rear fender. Richie hit the brakes, threw the car in reverse and pulled up beside the blond boy.

Don’t push your luck, Danny he shouted. He cranked the steering wheel in the opposite direction and drove across the parking lot to the street.

We’ll settle this later, Danny shouted back.

3. Riding in Althea’s Car

The white Cadillac glided through dark tree-lined streets

I know what you were doing back there with those boys is none of my business, Althea said. But when you dress that way, Althea turned her head and nodded towards Roxanne, You give boys the wrong idea, and that’s when you can find yourself in a lot trouble.

Roxanne looked away. So that’s what I did wrong, she thought.

At least that’s my humble opinion, Althea added.

Roxanne looked down at her tight red top and black short skirt. I’ve seen young women on television wearing these same exact clothes, she said.

You see that’s the corrupting influence of television. This is Rockwood not New York or Hollywood, where women can get away with wearing revealing clothes. In Rockwood nice girls don't wear micro-skirts and skin-tight tops without a bra when they go out alone at night. You're just asking for trouble, and you were about to get in trouble with those boys back there.

Roxanne didn’t know what to say. She’d heard many lectures about appearing modest in public places. She’d realized too late that the boy named Danny and his two friends were trouble. She would have to be more careful in the future.

By the way, Althea said, Where should I let you off?

Roxanne looked down at the book-shaped object she carried and shrugged her shoulders.

I’m not sure, she said.

You mean you don’t remember the address?

I just arrived, and I'm still a little confused.

Althea pulled over to the curb, put the car in park and let the engine idle.

What's your name, honey? she said.

Roxanne.

Just Roxanne? No last name?

Roxanne Friend.

Althea stared at her for a moment and then smiled.

That's a very unusual last name, she said.

Roxanne felt the women’s eyes probing her for a hidden secret.

Do you have family in Rockwood?

Roxanne shook her head. I'm just visiting, she said.

Are you in some kind of trouble?

Roxanne shook her head again.

Do you have a place to stay in Rockwood?

Roxanne shook her head a third time.

Althea sighed, turned back in her seat and shifted the car into drive.

Then it's a lucky thing I came along when I did, she said, as she glanced over her shoulder and pulled back on the street again. I have a spare bedroom, and you’re welcome to use it tonight.

Roxanne thanked her. I’ve come a long way today, and I guess all the travel has caught up with me.

After another silence Althea said, You don’t have to tell me about your past or where you came from unless you want to, she said. But I have to warn you that I’m a Christian minister, and I expect people to honor my rules and values when they’re guests in my home. I don't allow strong drink, drugs or any funny business, if you know what I mean.

Roxanne nodded. I'm a traveler, she said. I’m used to following the rules where ever I go.

And if you’ve broken the law, or you’re a fugitive, I’ll have to turn you into the police.

I don’t think I’ve broken any laws so far.

And I hope you don’t intend to. Althea crossed an intersection and turned the car into another street. You’re not an illegal, are you? she asked.

I’m not sure what you mean?

An illegal alien, you know someone from another country who's here illegally.

Roxanne stared out the windshield. No, she said. Not at all.

That’s okay then, Althea said. I’m sorry to ask so many questions. Now I'm glad we got that out of the way.

After another silence, Althea said, Well, I don’t want to beat a dead horse, and I’m sorry if I might offend you, but judging by what you’re wearing tonight, I’d say that as a visitor to Rockwood, you might have exercised a little more common sense when you chose what to wear tonight.

There it is again, Roxanne thought, my clothes are wrong, and they’ve gotten me into trouble twice tonight. I’m sorry my clothes repel you, she said.

Althea laughed. She reached across the seat and touched Roxanne’s shoulder.

Of course, they don’t repel me, she said. This is a college town. I see kids, excuse me, young adults, dressed and undressed in every way imaginable around here. I just believe that young women should follow a dress code that doesn’t openly promote the wrong kind of ideas in the opposite sex, if you know what I mean.

Roxanne nodded again. She had so much to learn.

I just hope you’ve brought a change of clothes, Althea said, ’Cause that outfit definitely won’t work during the day around here.

Roxanne looked down at her hands. She had hoped that her outfit would serve her during her visit. Now she was going to have to buy more clothes.

The big white car slowed down. Althea pulled off the street and into a driveway.

This is it, she said. My home.

4. The Radio Voices

Richie drove passed the Rockwood City Limits sign and pointed his car into the darkness. The engine roared as he held the gas pedal to the floor. The car flew down the two-lane highway that curved around the tall dark clay bank on the edge of town.

Richie thought about the strange black-haired girl at the convenience store. He’d never seen a girl as beautiful. Nor had any girl at Rockwood High ever looked into his eyes like she had done, as if she were looking deep inside him. Now she was gone, and he’d probably never see her again. He should have asked her name. On that account, he was no better than Danny.

He’d never liked Danny or his friends. But the last thing he wanted or needed right now was a confrontation with Danny over a girl he didn’t know and would never see again. He had enough on his mind already.

The highway stretched out along the foothills on the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. Ranches used mostly for grazing cattle spread out on either side. He saw a faint glow from the lights of the IDIC plant hidden behind the last clay ridge.

As he followed the yellow and white lines in the darkness, Richie thought about the message his mother had left at the school gym as he played in the last all-city basketball game of the season. She had never done anything like that before.

He had called her back from a pay phone outside the gym after the game.

Your father heard the radio voices tonight, Janet Firma whispered.

Richie heard her choke back a sob, as his mind filled with vivid memories that silenced the sounds of shouting and whistle-blowing that spilled out of the gym.

He remembered his father’s continual illness that forced him to disappear into the master bedroom on the first floor of their old Victorian farmhouse. The windows would be closed and latched and all the blinds in the house were lowered. The master bedroom became a place he was forbidden place to visit. Only his mother entered the darkened chamber.

When his father was sick, she would caution Richie and his twin sisters to make as few sounds as possible. The radio voices were the code words they used to refer to his father’s illness.

Are you sure it’s the radio voices? Richie asked. The words stuck in his throat. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had last been tormented by the voices only he could hear.

I can’t say anymore over the phone, Janet Firma said. Your sister isn’t back yet, she added. I’d feel better if you were home with me. Before she hung up, she asked him to stop and pick up more aspirin and milk.

His father had begun hearing the voices two years after returning from Vietnam. At the time, the Army doctors said John Firma was suffering from PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. They gave him drugs often prescribed for schizophrenics. The pills hadn’t stopped the voices.

Before returning to the States from the Vietnam, his father had spent a month in the Pacific on the island of Guam, recovering from surgery after being wounded. When he arrived back in Rockwood, he complained of constant headaches.

One night at dinner his father claimed he’d been part of an experiment. The Army had put something in my head, his father had said. The voice he heard most of the time belonged to a man named Dr. Barton. But no one at the Veteran's Hospital in Denver had ever heard of a Dr. Barton. The Army had no record of such a person.

In the early days, the family didn’t discuss his father’s illness. When Richie heard the words, the radio voices he had to be prepared to go along with whatever might happen. His father might spend days in bed, or he might disappear in the car on a mission given him by Dr. Barton or by some other voice he had heard.

The radio voices lasted for five-and-a-half years. During that time his mother’s hair turned gray.

After he hung up the phone, Richie imagined his father lying in bed, clutching a pillow over his head, while his mother rubbed his father’s neck and shoulders.

The Trans Am raced down a long banked curve, and the blazing lights of the IDIC plant came into view. The lights reflected off the roofs of rows and rows of cars and trucks in the parking lot. The IDIC parking lot was full day and night. Whatever they made at the plant, they worked twenty-four hours-a-day producing it.

Richie glanced over at the massive, mysterious buildings, now outlined and highlighted by bright spotlights. The tall buildings reminded him of the dark fingers of a gloved hand.

He hated that the plant sat so close to the house where he lived, yet he had grown up with it always being there like a fact of nature. But it was the twelve foot high fence that separated his parent’s land and their old two-story Victorian farm house from the IDIC plant that he really detested.

Richie pumped the brake pedal to slow the car down enough to pull into the gravel driveway that led up to the house. His car lights glanced of the leaves of the silver maples IDIC had planted two years earlier along his parent’s side of the fence. His parents had agreed to let them to plant the trees to hide the fence. A day after the trees were planted, a crew dressed in orange IDIC jumpsuits had strung concertina wire along the top of the fence.

What makes them think we’d want to climb over their fence? his father said at dinner the day after the concertina wire had appeared.

Richie drove slowly up the gravel driveway to the house. The porch light gave off a faint glow. A lamp burned in the living room window. Nothing will be the same now, he thought. From this day forward our lives will change forever.

5. No Purse

Roxanne gazed through the car window at the single-story house painted white with green trim around its windows. Two large pine trees grew in the yard in front of the house, one on either side of the walk that led to the street.

Althea guided Roxanne through the living room dominated by a large white leather-covered couch and two matching chairs. She followed the blonde woman down a hallway towards the rear of the house. Althea opened the door to a room and switched on the light.

You can use this room tonight, she said.

They entered the small white room. A red, white and blue striped comforter covered a double bed under the window. Next to the bed was a bedside table with a lamp, a caned-back chair and small dresser with four drawers.

The sheets are clean, and there’s an extra blanket in the closet if you get cold during the night, Althea said.

She stepped back into the hallway and tapped on the next door.

This is your bathroom, she said. And my room is there. She nodded towards an open door.

She entered the room again and stopped and faced Roxanne.

I just realized you didn’t bring anything except the book you’re carrying, she said. You don’t even have a purse. Did someone steal your purse?

Roxanne shook her head.

I left it behind.

You must have been in some hurry to forget your purse.

Everything happened so quickly.

Althea stared at her and bit her lower lip. Roxanne remained silent. Althea waved her hand.

You don't have to talk about any of that now, she said. I believe in respecting people’s privacy. Of course, I'll do anything I can to help, and you can stay here until you get on your feet again. I may even have some clothes you can wear. They won’t be in style, but they may fit. Let’s take a look.

Althea swept out of the spare bedroom and entered her own room. Roxanne followed behind. Althea turned on her bedroom light, dropped her shoulder bag on her bed and slid open her closet door.

We've got to get you out of that horrible outfit before people get the wrong idea.

Roxanne watched as Althea rummage through a long rack of dresses on hangers. She gazed at her reflection in a full-length wall mirror. Her short skirt barely covered her long legs, and the tight top left little to the imagination.

Althea handed her a couple of long dresses and a skirt.

Try these on, she said. If they fit, you can have them. I’ll never wear them again unless I lose a couple dress sizes, but they should look good on you.

Althea moved to the other end of the closet and pulled out several blouses on hangers. Try these on too.

Roxanne clutched the hangers to her chest. Althea reached up on the shelf above the rack.

And here's an old purse, she said.

Roxanne put the clothes on the bed and held the burgundy-colored purse made from an animal skin. It had a narrow shoulder strap and two zippered compartments. Roxanne guessed it would be too small to carry her communicator.

You do know what it's for, don't you? Althea asked.

Roxanne nodded.

Well, if I didn't know better. I'd think you’d just gotten off the boat.

Roxanne smiled. It’s been a long trip. I guess I’m a lot more tired then I thought.

Of course, Althea said, picking up the dresses and blouses and leading Roxanne back to the smaller bedroom What you need is a good night’s sleep.

I never expected to get so much help from anyone, Roxanne said.

Althea let the clothes fall to the bed and took Roxanne in her arms. Neither said a word. Roxanne smelled the lilac fragrance in Althea’s hair. She could feel the woman’s heartbeat. Althea let her go. Her cheeks were flushed. She moved towards the door.

I'll set out a clean set of towels, she said. Take a shower whenever you want. You’ll find shampoo and conditioner in the closet in the bathroom. There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator, so help yourself. I've got a long day tomorrow, so I need to go to bed now. Make yourself at home, and we'll talk tomorrow at breakfast.

Roxanne nodded and thanked her.

And if you want to phone your parents or anyone else, there's a phone in the kitchen and one in the living room. Don't worry, I won't listen in.

Roxanne looked around the room and smiled. She had made the right decision to leave the parking lot and come home with this woman.

By the way, Althea stood in the doorway again. Were you ever going to show me your book?

Roxanne lowered her hand to her side to try to hide the communicator.

It’s a special gift I was given before I came here, she said. Maybe we can look at it together another time.

You’ll learn to trust me in time, Althea said. You’ll see.

6. Losing the House

As Richie climbed the stairs to the porch, his mother opened the front door. She held a finger to her lips and stepped aside to let Richie enter the house. The single light in the window cast shadows across the room.

He followed his mother into the kitchen where the lights were on. He placed the white plastic bag containing the aspirin and milk on the kitchen counter. As he sat down at the kitchen table, his mother leaned back against the kitchen sink.

She was tall and thin. Her shoulders sagged as if she were balancing a heavy burden. Her lipstick had faded and her face looked tired and drawn.

Above her head a large metal light fixture with a half a dozen bulbs hung from the ceiling. Their light reflected off the window above the sink and made her silver hair glow. The light blue patterned wallpaper behind her wore a glaze from the thousands of meals she had cooked over the years. Built-in, cream-colored cupboards hung on the walls on either side of the sink.

He was anxious all day, she whispered. I knew he wasn't feeling well. I think he had a feeling something was about to happen. I was washing the dishes when I heard him cry out.

She glanced at her watch. "That must have been around eight-thirty. I ran into the living room. He was holding his hands against his ears. ‘They've come back,’ he said. He repeated the same words over and over again.

I got him up, and we walked into the bedroom. I made him get into bed. She paused and looked at her hands. It just like before, she said. They’ll never leave us alone.

And you’re sure it was the radio voices?

She nodded.

But it's been such a long time. Why now?

His mother put her fist to her mouth and sobbed. When she seemed to lose her balance, Richie jumped to his feet, caught her and tried to steady her. She rested her head against his shoulder. She had never done that before.

Then she pulled away from him, turned her head and wiped away her tears. I thought we were home free five years ago, she said.

Richie put the milk in the refrigerator.

He's been sleeping for about an hour.

Should we take him to the hospital or a doctor?

She shook her head. You know he won’t see a doctor. They never did him any good anyway.

Richie was at a loss for what to say. Neither of his parents trusted doctors or the medical profession. But there had to be something they could do.

Did he tell you what the voices said?

She nodded. That’s the crazy part, she said. They want him to sell the house.

Sell the house?

She nodded again.

You can’t sell the house, Richie said. Where would we go? Where would we live? This is our home.

I said the same thing to him. But your father was in so much pain, I don’t think he heard me.

A shiver ran through Richie’s arms and legs. He wanted to sit down, but he leaned against the kitchen counter instead.

His mother opened the refrigerator door and took out a bottle of white wine and filled the tall-stemmed glass on the counter. Her hand shook as she raised the glass. He’d rarely seen her drink except at holidays and on special occasions.

You're not going to let him do it are you? Richie said. You’ve got some say in it too, don’t you?

I can't sit by and watch him being tortured every day.

Can’t we try to find out where the voices are coming from?

She shrugged. It all goes back to the war, she said. "I know the Army did something to him after he was wounded, but they’ll never admit it. Why else would they give us this