Chapter 6: Trixie

Trixie came home from work Wednesday afternoon with a mountain of finals to review. She loved her job. Applying scientific theory for young minds was exhilarating. She loved designing and leading experiments for her students. She didn't mind grading papers. But she still greatly looked forward to summer vacation. Three more weeks and she would be free to take daily hikes in the mountains, nothing but her, the trees, and the sun.

Those three weeks will pass more quickly as she thought about seeing James again. She tapped her pen thinking about their plans for lunch and baseball. Not dates, just get togethers. Friendly gatherings.

Trixie went to the kitchen to get a snack; it was always easier to grade when she had popcorn and a movie. 8th grade finals were completed first this year, leaving the students free to do middle school graduation festivities. Next week would be in-class yearbook signings, the following week included a field day, a mid-day dance, and a yearbook signing day for the whole grade at once. The final week included a trip to the local swim club, graduation rehearsal, and the formal ceremony.

Trixie thought about the formality of it all. Kids growing up with such fanfare brought a smile to her face. Kindergarten play moved into structured learning of elementary school, which moved into more formalized learning of middle school, then the big academic and soul-searching years of high school. From there, childhood was fundamentally over, and kids began to truly move away from their parents. Trixie thought momentarily about her own high school graduation and finally moving away. She shuddered, and returned to the couch and her coffee table laden with formal tests and informal mock lab reports.

She saw her phone light up with a notification of a missed call and voicemail. She checked the missed call and saw it was her mom. Trixie's heart raced and she began to sweat. Her small teacher college was the best out of state tuition she could afford while working part time, but 336 miles suddenly didn't feel like enough. She pondered packing up and moving to the middle of Colorado. She'd really get mountainous sunsets then.

Trixie looked at her voice mail and the thought to delete it before she listened to it crossed her mind. She wouldn't dare. Something could be wrong with Aunt Lydia, she countered. She looked back at the mountain of grading and knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate without knowing what was on the message. Yet, the thought of pressing play made her stomach flip-flop in nervous knots.

She pressed play, relieved that the message only lasted 15 seconds. "I'm throwing away the rest of your stuff," the voice said. Then the message ended. Trixie let out a nervous laugh. She wondered what of her belongings could possibly be at her childhood home that are left to be discarded. A second thought popped in her mind: this is a trap to get her back in New Hampshire.

Knowing she wasn't going to get any grading done today with her emotions still running high, Trixie gathered up the tests and put them back in her bag. She turned Netflix to stream her favorite who-done-it show and allowed the emotions of the day run their course.

After the fifth bad guy was caught by the detectives, Trixie reached for her phone again and started checking for apartments in Colorado. She considered a likely order of events that could start at the end of the school year: put in her resignation, break her apartment lease, rent a one-way UHaul, and restart her life in the mountains. She figured she could be a science teacher anywhere. Moving would provide a reason to get a new phone number. One she would have to give Aunt Lydia.

Who would ultimately give it to Mom.

Who would never stop.

Trixie jumped when her phone beeped and lit up with a text. She was incredibly relieved to see it was from James.

с нетерпением жду субботы the text read.

Looking forward to Saturday her translation app offered.

Trixie put her phone back down and curled further into herself, torn between a reason to run and a reason to stay.