Life as a foster kid either made you weak and scared of everything—or it gave you calluses. Everywhere. In the throes of teenage angst, the more her big sister tried to reach her, the more she’d pulled away. Rebellion was what April did and she did it well, but then even that got old. Predictable.
By the end of the bus ride to Vail, April had made the decision that she was ready to stop being Dianna Kelley’s screwed-up little sister. She was ready for something new.
She was ready for a better life.
It was a two-day hike through the Rockies to the Farm and frankly, she was a little freaked out about living in an intentional community.
But, amazingly, she’d found herself fitting in with the band of misfits. And for the first time, she almost felt like she was part of a family.
Her brothers and sisters on the Farm accepted her for who she really was. They didn’t try to change her clothes, her hair, or the music she liked. While Dianna had always coddled her, she was given real responsibilities on the Farm as a cook. She was surprised by how natural it felt to stand over a hot fire, to pound herbs together with a mortar and pestle, to knead bread until it was just the right consistency. Up in the Rockies, she felt more at peace than she ever had.
And then guilt started creeping up on her, slowly but surely, day after day, week after week. When she’d finally asked to use the Farm’s lone phone line and checked her voice mail, she cringed listening to Dianna’s anxious string of messages. It was time to set up a meeting to show her ubersuccessful big sister that she was finally doing something good, that she was finally on the right track with her life and was coming into her own.
With the only access road newly blocked by fallen trees, it was another two-day hike into town. It wasn’t an easy journey, but April liked knowing that she had the skills to take care of herself, that she didn’t need to rely on Kevin or anyone else to get where she needed to go. Besides, Kevin had split the Farm a few weeks after they’d arrived. He hadn’t expected the workload to be so high or the drugs to be nonexistent. She hadn’t been particularly sad to see him go.
Dianna had been waiting for her in the café on Vail’s main street, and for a split second, April had been so happy to see her sister that she’d almost hugged her. Excitedly, she tried to tell Dianna about the Farm, about what a good experience it was. But before she could figure out how to best explain her new living situation, Dianna had started pushing all her buttons.
“Tell me why you want to stay in Colorado,” Dianna had asked. “Why you won’t come back and enroll in junior college? I’m willing to give you another chance to get back on your feet. We need a part-time research assistant on the show. I’m sure Ellen would take a chance on you.”
April was proud of her new skills and hoped Dianna would be too. “I’ve already got a job.”
“Doing what?”
“Cooking.”
It wasn’t hard to see how shocked Dianna was. And that she wasn’t the least bit impressed.
“Cooking? You’ve never even wanted to watch the cooking channel with me. Tell me where the restaurant is, what it’s called. I’ll have a word with the chef. He’ll understand that you need to come home with me.”
“I’m not working in a restaurant,” April explained. “I’m cooking for everyone on the Farm.”
Before she could explain things more clearly, Dianna said, “The Farm? What in God’s name is the Farm?” Her expression suddenly grew even more anxious than it already was. “Oh God, April, you’re not mixed up in some kind of cult, are you?”
April had made a face, tried to tamp down the sudden rush of anger, tried to recover the sense of peace she’d felt for the past couple of months.
“No, of course it’s not a cult. A commune is totally different from a cult. We’re an intentional community.”
“No way,” Dianna had said in a hard voice that April had never heard her use. Even when she’d done something bad, her sister had always been gentle with her. “I’m not letting you live on a commune or a Farm or whatever you’re calling it. I didn’t work this hard to get us out of a trailer park so that you could turn around and live in mud huts with a bunch of hippies.”She grabbed April’s arm. “We’re going to get your things and then we’re going to leave.”
April yanked her arm out of Dianna’s grasp. How could she have thought that Dianna would understand?
“I already told you, Dianna. I’m staying here. In Colorado.” April let her mouth twist into a satisfied smirk. “On the commune.”
“Jesus, April. You haven’t always made the best choices, but I didn’t think you were stupid.”
That was when April finally snapped. “It must hurt to have a pole rammed so far up your perfect ass.”
She’d gotten the hell out of the café before Dianna saw her tears.
All she wanted was to be back at the Farm with her new friends, but it was raining way too hard, so she spent fifteen dollars to stay at the nearby youth hostel that she and Kevin had slept in their first night in Vail. Curling up on the hard bed, she tried to sleep, but a group of teenage girls was blaring the TV in the main room.
Suddenly, she heard someone say her sister’s name and she sat up in bed, hitting her head on the top bunk. A sick premonition rushed over her as she ran out of the room in her underwear and heard the news report about Dianna’s crash.
On the floor of the closet, her stomach churned with a sick mixture of guilt and remorse. Dianna wouldn’t have been on that winding road in that storm if it hadn’t been for her. And now, if she couldn’t get out of here, she might never get the chance to say she was sorry.
Abruptly, her train of thought was broken by the sound of loud footsteps.
Oh shit, he was back!
The door opened, and before she could so much as make a sound, he was coming at her with a needle. She tried to get away from him, tried to scream behind her muzzle, but there was nowhere to go, no way to escape.
The man watched the girl go limp and waited for the satisfaction of how easy it was to keep her hostage.
Instead, he felt numb. From top to bottom, inside and out. He barely even saw the girl, his mind clouded with visions of his brother lying cold and stiff beneath a white sheet.
“What do you want me to do with her?”
By the end of the bus ride to Vail, April had made the decision that she was ready to stop being Dianna Kelley’s screwed-up little sister. She was ready for something new.
She was ready for a better life.
It was a two-day hike through the Rockies to the Farm and frankly, she was a little freaked out about living in an intentional community.
But, amazingly, she’d found herself fitting in with the band of misfits. And for the first time, she almost felt like she was part of a family.
Her brothers and sisters on the Farm accepted her for who she really was. They didn’t try to change her clothes, her hair, or the music she liked. While Dianna had always coddled her, she was given real responsibilities on the Farm as a cook. She was surprised by how natural it felt to stand over a hot fire, to pound herbs together with a mortar and pestle, to knead bread until it was just the right consistency. Up in the Rockies, she felt more at peace than she ever had.
And then guilt started creeping up on her, slowly but surely, day after day, week after week. When she’d finally asked to use the Farm’s lone phone line and checked her voice mail, she cringed listening to Dianna’s anxious string of messages. It was time to set up a meeting to show her ubersuccessful big sister that she was finally doing something good, that she was finally on the right track with her life and was coming into her own.
With the only access road newly blocked by fallen trees, it was another two-day hike into town. It wasn’t an easy journey, but April liked knowing that she had the skills to take care of herself, that she didn’t need to rely on Kevin or anyone else to get where she needed to go. Besides, Kevin had split the Farm a few weeks after they’d arrived. He hadn’t expected the workload to be so high or the drugs to be nonexistent. She hadn’t been particularly sad to see him go.
Dianna had been waiting for her in the café on Vail’s main street, and for a split second, April had been so happy to see her sister that she’d almost hugged her. Excitedly, she tried to tell Dianna about the Farm, about what a good experience it was. But before she could figure out how to best explain her new living situation, Dianna had started pushing all her buttons.
“Tell me why you want to stay in Colorado,” Dianna had asked. “Why you won’t come back and enroll in junior college? I’m willing to give you another chance to get back on your feet. We need a part-time research assistant on the show. I’m sure Ellen would take a chance on you.”
April was proud of her new skills and hoped Dianna would be too. “I’ve already got a job.”
“Doing what?”
“Cooking.”
It wasn’t hard to see how shocked Dianna was. And that she wasn’t the least bit impressed.
“Cooking? You’ve never even wanted to watch the cooking channel with me. Tell me where the restaurant is, what it’s called. I’ll have a word with the chef. He’ll understand that you need to come home with me.”
“I’m not working in a restaurant,” April explained. “I’m cooking for everyone on the Farm.”
Before she could explain things more clearly, Dianna said, “The Farm? What in God’s name is the Farm?” Her expression suddenly grew even more anxious than it already was. “Oh God, April, you’re not mixed up in some kind of cult, are you?”
April had made a face, tried to tamp down the sudden rush of anger, tried to recover the sense of peace she’d felt for the past couple of months.
“No, of course it’s not a cult. A commune is totally different from a cult. We’re an intentional community.”
“No way,” Dianna had said in a hard voice that April had never heard her use. Even when she’d done something bad, her sister had always been gentle with her. “I’m not letting you live on a commune or a Farm or whatever you’re calling it. I didn’t work this hard to get us out of a trailer park so that you could turn around and live in mud huts with a bunch of hippies.”She grabbed April’s arm. “We’re going to get your things and then we’re going to leave.”
April yanked her arm out of Dianna’s grasp. How could she have thought that Dianna would understand?
“I already told you, Dianna. I’m staying here. In Colorado.” April let her mouth twist into a satisfied smirk. “On the commune.”
“Jesus, April. You haven’t always made the best choices, but I didn’t think you were stupid.”
That was when April finally snapped. “It must hurt to have a pole rammed so far up your perfect ass.”
She’d gotten the hell out of the café before Dianna saw her tears.
All she wanted was to be back at the Farm with her new friends, but it was raining way too hard, so she spent fifteen dollars to stay at the nearby youth hostel that she and Kevin had slept in their first night in Vail. Curling up on the hard bed, she tried to sleep, but a group of teenage girls was blaring the TV in the main room.
Suddenly, she heard someone say her sister’s name and she sat up in bed, hitting her head on the top bunk. A sick premonition rushed over her as she ran out of the room in her underwear and heard the news report about Dianna’s crash.
On the floor of the closet, her stomach churned with a sick mixture of guilt and remorse. Dianna wouldn’t have been on that winding road in that storm if it hadn’t been for her. And now, if she couldn’t get out of here, she might never get the chance to say she was sorry.
Abruptly, her train of thought was broken by the sound of loud footsteps.
Oh shit, he was back!
The door opened, and before she could so much as make a sound, he was coming at her with a needle. She tried to get away from him, tried to scream behind her muzzle, but there was nowhere to go, no way to escape.
The man watched the girl go limp and waited for the satisfaction of how easy it was to keep her hostage.
Instead, he felt numb. From top to bottom, inside and out. He barely even saw the girl, his mind clouded with visions of his brother lying cold and stiff beneath a white sheet.
“What do you want me to do with her?”
