Consequences

Once she finished, Catherine left with the glass.
    Claire closed her eyes and recognized a new sense of emptiness and relief. Four months of despair had been washed out of her through gallons of tears. She remembered her grandmother saying that sometimes we all need a good cry. To that end, Grandma would read a sad book or watch a sad movie. Claire decided she’d watched the sad movie.
    The sun still shimmered on high but began to move toward the front of the house, casting shadows on the pool and deck. Claire decided to go back upstairs, but realized she had no privacy in her suite.
    At that moment, she noticed the trees. Her mind worked slowly, it had been through quite an ordeal in the past twenty-four hours. As she stood staring at the green leaves and thick forest she saw freedom. Not freedom to Atlanta or completely away from him, but freedom from cameras, instructions, rules, and freedom to relax. The realization energized Claire like nothing had all day. Tomorrow she was heading into the woods.
    Monday morning Claire woke with a start. She’d been dreaming, but she couldn’t remember about what. She just knew her heart pounded, she gasped for breath, and she felt like she was suffocating. As her mind cleared and she looked around her suite, she saw reality. She was alone, the night had been peaceful, and today was a new day. She quickly showered and dressed for her exploration. When she stepped from the closet/dressing room, because she vowed to never be unclothed in her main room again, her door was closing.
    “Wait please,” she shouted toward the door.
    “I’m sorry, miss, I should have been faster.”
    “Oh no, Cindy, you’re fine. I just need a favor.”
    “Anything, miss. What can I do for you?” Claire explained to Cindy that she planned a day trip into the woods, needed a packed lunch and some water bottles. Cindy listened intently and promised to help.
    Claire sat down to her breakfast. It wouldn’t take much for Claire’s appetite to disappear, just a few thoughts of reality. So she chose not to do that . . . she would get them into that compartment no matter what it took. Instead, she thought about her impending adventure. She thought about hiking boots and bug spray and ate.
    There was a knock on her door. Claire called for the person to come in. “Ms. Claire, could you please explain to me what Cindy is asking?” She told Catherine about her plans to explore, how she didn’t want to return for lunch, and she knew Catherine wouldn’t want her to skip a meal. Therefore, she would need a packed lunch and some water bottles. Catherine seemed apprehensive. “I am sorry, miss, but if you didn’t come back?”
    Although that sounded wonderful, Claire was surprised by Catherine’s concern. “Catherine, I have no plans for that. First, I wouldn’t do that to you. I can only imagine Mr. Rawlings’s reaction if I didn’t return. And second, his reaction. I can truthfully say if I left I would be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life,” which, she didn’t say audibly, she believed deep in her soul may not be very long. “I just want to explore and be outside, away from everything. Mr. Rawlings gave me permission to go into the woods. I have done it before. I just want to be out longer, without concern for curfews. Besides, we both know that this conversation is being recorded. I promise to return. If I don’t, he will see that it was I who lied, you just believed me. But I promise I will be back.”
    There was a spark in Claire’s green eyes. The same eyes that only yesterday were red, swollen, and lifeless. Catherine said that Claire would have her lunch and water packed in a few minutes, but asked that she be back by six for dinner. Claire promised she would. As soon as Catherine left the room, Claire went to the dressing table and found her watch. She didn’t want to disappoint her.
    That morning Claire abandoned her strategy of dissecting the woods. She remembered the large clearing with the flowers and headed in that direction. In the past she only went as far as the clearing, today she planned to go beyond it.
    She found the clearing right where she thought it would be. The heat of the summer transformed the green grass into long brown straw, only the weeds were green. Claire didn’t mind, the weeds had pretty colorful flowers. Unlike Tony’s flowers, which had been sentenced to his yard, gardens, or clay pots, these flowers grew free wherever they wanted.