"I have tried simply to write the best I can. Sometimes I have good luck and write better than I can." -Ernest Hemingway

“The only living works are those which have drained much of the author's own life into them.” –Samuel Butler

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Running Out of Time (Part Seven)




            Arriving at her apartment building, Carmen sprinted up the wooden stairs to reach her home.  With hands shaking from adrenaline, she managed to slide her key into the lock and turn it. Opening the door, she rushed to her trash can and rummaged through it to find her father’s last words, which she had discarded in disgust after receiving them.
Uncovering the letter, Carmen took it out and brushed it off.  Uncrumpling the paper, she read it for the first time.

Dear Carmen,
            Honey, I know you are ashamed of my nefarious activities, as you have often called them, but I want you to know that I have always loved you. My life of crime was not always what it seemed to be. Regrettably, my crimes, rather than a wholesome job, put our food on the table, but I didn’t always steal for financial gain. Some items I have taken were to protect the innocent. I stole from those who didn’t regret harming others. These types of items are locked away in a secret safe I my office. With my passing, I entrust you with the sole access to this safe. Under no circumstances should the contents of this safe fall into the wrong hands. I am depending on you to keep them secure.

            Wonder and shock swam through Carmen’s thoughts as she skimmed the rest of the letter while memorizing his instruction. Her eyes reached the end of the crinkled page. Not believing what she saw, she reread the last lines of the letter, wanting more to have been written.

I can never express just how sorry I am to have caused you to hate me so much, but throughout it all, know that I did everything for you and your mother. I love you always.
For the last time,
Your Father

            Refolding the letter, Carmen tried to calm her mixed emotions. More questions rather than answers arose in her mind at the conclusion of her father’s words.
            Setting the letter on the floor, Carmen rose to her feet and made her way to the car in a daze. Slipping into the leather interior, she silently watched the landscape fade around the speeding car.
            Arriving at her father’s house, she cautiously took a step out of the car, feeling unsteady. Remembering she was on a time schedule, she glanced down and saw she had twenty minutes left.
            A sense of foreboding set in as Carmen shuffled to the front door, desiring to be anywhere else. She knocked and wanted to melt under the pressure from the memories assaulting her mind at revisiting her childhood home after seven years.
            The door opened to reveal the housekeeper, whose shocked expression prompted Carmen to speak, “Umm. Hi, Maryellen. I need to get something from my father’s office.”
            As Maryellen stood in astonishment for a few more moments, Carmen took that time to examine the changes to Maryellen that had befallen her over the past seven years. She noticed Maryellen’s shortly cropped hair had completely whitened and the wrinkles, from a hard life, had deepened.  Even with Maryellen’s obvious signs of aging, there was also a spark of fire behind her eyes that bespoke of an unending flow of energy and vigor.
            Maryellen hastily shook her head to dislodge her surprise. A pleasant smile bloomed upon her weathered face and she exclaimed, “Carmen, I never thought I would see your beautiful face again! It’s a great pleasure to see you again! Come right in.”
            Feeling comforted by Maryellen’s kind words, the stress Carmen had experience  over the course of the past few hours overflowed and her last bit of strength fled. Not being able to hold her tears back any longer, Carmen sobbed. Maryellen gently wrapped Carmen in her arms as she revealed her whole ordeal in a torrent of words.
            Minutes later, Carmen began to collect herself and she pushed out of Maryellen’s arms, only to immediately miss their soothing comfort. Remembering how Maryellen had been like a second mother to Carmen, she gratefully thanked Maryellen and wiped away the tearstains drenching her face.
            Unexpectedly, Maryellen grabbed hold of Carmen’s hand and dragged her to her father’s office. “Hurry child. Open the safe.” Maryellen prompted.

To Be Continued…

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