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Legacy Redeemed

By Robin Patchen

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Vanessa Baker planted her hands on her hips. “I am not riding on that… that boat—”
“Float.” 
The single word from Caleb Peterson’s mouth made her want to scream. Either way, it made no sense. The thing was on a street. It had wheels. There was no water. Thus, it was neither boat nor float, despite what the irritating man in front of her insisted. “That is what I said.” 
The quirk in Caleb’s lips only frustrated her more. After all her years of studying and practicing English, some things still tripped her up, especially when they were completely without logic. Float, indeed. It was a flatbed truck decorated to look like it carried stacks of giant food. Emptied and reshaped appliance containers now appeared like boxes of cereal, rice, and cookies. Discarded barrel-shaped containers had become oversize soup cans. Paper mâché-covered wire molds depicted apples, bananas, and grapes the size of a human head. Though Vanessa had thought the whole thing silly, a local artist, Donovan Gilcreast, had gotten involved. He’d created the float’s design and brought it to life. 
People she’d known for years through her work for the food bank stood beside the pretend food, holding sacks of candy to toss to children along the parade route. 
Blowing in the early autumn breeze were those silly paper… string things. Streamers, yes. Katarina had insisted she buy many packages to help decorate the truck. Float.
“You’re the director of the food bank.” Caleb’s voice was steady and calm, as always. “This float represents all it’s done for Nutfield and the surrounding communities. As the face of the food bank—”
“I am not the face of…” But of course that was another Americanism she didn’t understand. The face of—as if her image were plastered across the building where she worked. “I do not wish to ride.”
A float a few ahead of theirs started to move, inching onto Crystal Avenue for its slow trek in the annual Harvest Festival. 
The sound of cheering arose as the parade began. 
Because of her role as the food bank’s director, she’d always attended the festival, but this was the first time for the food bank to participate in the parade. Always before, they’d been content with a booth to pass out literature and recruit volunteers. The volunteers had gone overboard with the float, and she was thankful for all their hard work. But why did that mean she had to ride on it? 
The weather had cooperated. The early October air was crisp and cool. The trees surrounding the town were tinted with smatterings of red, orange, and yellow amidst their green. Another week, perhaps two, and the town would be an explosion of color. 
“Vanessa.” Caleb lowered his voice and leaned close. “The board would really like you to do this.” He gestured to the truck beside them, to all the people on it. “Your friends want you to come.” 
She looked at them. Her friends? The word felt gritty and foreign. They were as near to friends as she’d ever had. People who volunteered at the food bank, others who helped her run it and keep it funded. Some of them were the people she owed this life to.
Her daughter, seven-year-old Katarina, sat atop the Campbell’s Tomato Soup. Beside her, ten-year-old Johnny Thomas perched on the SpaghettiOs. Katarina would be fine without Vanessa. The women on board would look after her. 
“I will go to the booth,” Vanessa said.
A muscle in Caleb’s jaw twitched. “There won’t be anybody there until after the parade.”
“Then I will have a moment of peace.” She turned away from the man, got Kat’s attention, and told her to stay with Johnny’s mother, Rae.
“Won’t you join us?” Rae asked.
“I would prefer not,” Vanessa said.
“Suit yourself.” Rae’s smile was easy and comfortable. What would it be like to smile like that, as if life were good and one didn’t have a care in the world? “Don’t worry,” Rae added. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” 
Vanessa nodded her thanks and marched past her church, its white steeple reaching toward the bright blue sky. She had been raised without religion, survived years at the hands of godless men. That she was welcome in a church with the people of God, considering everything she’d done, everything that had been done to her, was nothing short of miraculous. She did love this town and the people in it. She just didn’t want to be in the parade. Was that so bad? 
She crossed the street and stepped onto the grassy town common.
Though she didn’t turn to look, she could feel Caleb’s eyes on her. 
At least Rae had been kind. Caleb was angry. Perhaps the other board members were as well, but she hadn’t been able to force herself onto that thing. It wasn’t just because of the people who were on board who would want to engage her in conversation, but those who lined the road that led through downtown Nutfield. 
She did not wish to be on display. 
She did not wish to be the face of anything.
She did not wish to be seen.
Caleb had been correct, of course. His constant correctness was one of his most irritating qualities. Except for other vendors like herself who were setting up their booths, the grassy area on the far end of the downtown strip was empty of people. This area they called a common, a word that had made little sense. But she understood now that, when Nutfield had first been populated, the townspeople had set apart the grassy area for those who lived nearby—a place to graze livestock, to sell merchandise, and to gather in case of a threat. It was an area owned in common. 
She tried to remember if there were any such areas in the town outside of Belgrade where she’d been born, but her memories of that place were dim. That life in Serbia had been lived by a different person than the one who stood here today.
She finished preparing the tent where she would spend her day soliciting donations and volunteers. Satisfied that all was ready, she wandered toward the parade route, keeping behind the crowd, hopefully unnoticed.
People lined the road on both sides, laughing, chatting, waving, as the Nutfield Squirrels’ marching band passed, then the cheerleaders, then a horde of young people in various sports uniforms. There were dancers and gymnasts. Politicians waving from convertibles, firemen hanging from their big red truck, smiling business owners tossing candy to children. The Chamber of Commerce had a float, as did the Rotary Club. Kade and Ginny Powers caught her eye and waved from that one. 
She lifted her hand in response, feeling a smile on her face. As soon as she knew it was there, she stopped it. What was there to smile about?
Is life that bad, Vanessa? 
This new voice in her head—was it her own foolishness? 
Or was it, as Kelsey had suggested at Bible study the previous week, the voice of God? Vanessa had opened her heart to Him years before, but she didn’t know how she felt about Him being in her head. 
Talking to her.
Why her? 
Rather than analyze whose voice it was, she focused on the question. Was life that bad? At the moment, it was not. But whenever she’d gotten comfortable in the past, danger, pain, and turmoil had followed. 
She didn’t trust this new, happy world she’d landed in. She didn’t trust it to last, not for herself, anyway. 
But for her daughter… Protect Katarina, Lord. You alone can keep her safe. 
I will protect you both.
Bah. Foolishness. God had not protected her in the past. She wasn’t believing that He would now, and she didn’t deserve anything from Him. But Kat was innocent. 
And would always be, if Vanessa had anything to say about it. 
A dog brushed past her legs. 
A little boy dodged through the crowd behind it. The boy was laughing as he chased the little mutt. He was three or four and reminded her of Milos, her younger brother. Always running away, that one, always with herself or Mama or Tata on his heels. Always laughing. 
This boy’s tata was too far behind and, based on the fear in his eyes, he seemed to have lost sight of the child. Behind him, a mama held a toddler in one arm while she gripped the hand of an older child, maybe six or seven. The mama also looked frightened. 
The boy came near, and Vanessa waved to the man and caught his eye. She pointed toward the statue on the edge of the park where the dog has stopped to mark his territory. The little boy was almost to the animal. The man veered in that direction. The boy caught the dog, and a moment later, the man caught the boy. He turned to Vanessa with a smile and a wave of thanks as the mama and younger siblings arrived.
The perfect little family. Or so they seemed. 
Vanessa had never had a man to help her keep her little Katarina safe. She’d been alone since she was ten years old. Now, she alone was responsible for the precious daughter she’d been given.
As the family returned to the parade route, she felt the lack keenly. 
If only her daughter had a real family. 
Finally, the float she’d been waiting for rolled into view. Vanessa rose to her tiptoes, straining to get a glimpse of Kat. And there she was, waving from the top of the tomato soup. Maybe now Vanessa would get her to eat the stuff. A broad smile lit her daughter’s face, and Vanessa knew her own matched it. 
She could smile at Kat. Only at Kat. 
Johnny stood beside her, a good foot taller and three years her elder. Other children were on the float, too, waving to the crowd from the stack of faux soup cans and cereal boxes, all of them at least fifteen feet off the ground. Adults walked alongside or sat on the lower levels. It was the nicest float in the parade, thanks to the generous donation from Hamilton Clothiers. The company’s owner, Chelsea, explained to Vanessa that it was because of the food bank that she’d met Dylan, her fiancé. Vanessa took no credit for their romance but happily accepted the monthly donations the woman sent. 
Kat’s queenly waves became a flurry of excitement when she spotted Vanessa. 
As Vanessa lifted her hand in reply, a dog got loose of its owner and bolted in front of the truck. 
The driver slammed on the brakes. 
On the float, people and oversize groceries lurched forward.
A gasp rose from the onlookers.
Kat’s eyes widened. Her arms flailed, seeking something to grasp onto and finding nothing but air. 
Vanessa’s hands flew to her mouth as, in her mind’s eye, she saw her daughter tumble and hit the ground. She imagined that sweet little head bouncing off the pavement, imagined blood pooling beneath her cracked skull.
She imagined those beautiful brown eyes lifeless. 
Like everything else Vanessa loved, Katarina would be taken away.
Kat tumbled from the soup can, but strong arms from below caught her, pulled her to a broad chest. Kat giggled and hugged the man who’d saved her, even though hugging a man—any man—was against the rules.
Caleb Peterson.
Vanessa dropped her hands. Her heart was pounding. 
Back on her oversize soup can, Kat waved to her as if nothing had happened.
Caleb nodded in her direction. 
He’d saved her daughter. 
Despite how he annoyed her, pestered her, crowded her, she would be grateful for that. Next time, despite how little she wanted to, she’d ride the stupid float. She’d be there for her little girl. 
* * *
Vanessa handed out literature about local hunger, about the food bank, and about other services for people struggling with poverty. It was late afternoon when there was finally a slowdown in foot traffic. Vanessa left the job in the hands of her volunteers and took Kat for an early dinner at the tent McNeal’s had set up. Poor Kat had stayed at the booth all day. At first, she’d talked to passersby, but after a while she’d become bored and sat in a corner to read while others her age played and had fun. Vanessa felt badly about that, but it couldn’t be helped. She had to work, and she had to keep Kat safe.
They walked across the grounds, dodging crowds of locals, and found the back of the long line to order dinner, the aromas of frying hamburgers and steaming hot dogs greeting them. Kat let out all the words she’d surely been saving up since Rae had delivered her after the parade, words she hadn’t had an opportunity to spew because Vanessa had been too busy to listen. One more thing to feel guilty about. 
Kat talked about the other floats, the cheerleaders, whom she thought were “totally amazing!” She talked about riding on the float and glimpsing her friends from school. “I saw Zack and Tyler, and McKenzie. She looked so jealous.” The glee in Kat’s voice caught Vanessa’s attention.
“It is unkind to wish people to feel envy.”
Kat’s smile slipped. “But she’s always showing off. It was the first time I ever got to do something she didn’t.”
“You have much little McKenzie doesn’t. You have amazing talent and kindness and generosity.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Yes, Vanessa knew. Most had more money than they did. Others lived in nicer houses than the small three-bedroom they called home. Others drove nicer cars than the beat-up minivan Vanessa had saved and scrimped to purchase. But money was only money. It was nothing compared to safety and security. Thank God Kat did not know a world where safety and security didn’t exist. 
Vanessa ran her hand down her daughter’s braids. They’d been perfect that morning but, as usual, strands had escaped the hair ties. Even with the messy hair, her daughter, with her large brown eyes and silky light brown hair, was beautiful. 
Too beautiful. 
Vanessa had spent the seven years of her daughter’s life fighting the urge to hide the girl away from the world lest someone decide she was too pretty to resist. Vanessa had met many such men. 
If any of them came near her daughter, Vanessa would be forced to kill. 
Again.
She gazed around at the crowd, but no such men leered nearby. They were safe here. 
They finally reached the front of the line, and Vanessa ordered a cheeseburger and french fries for them to share—much to Kat’s dismay because, as she claimed, “I’m starving, Mommy.”
As if the girl knew what it meant to starve. Another blessing Vanessa thanked God for. 
“If we finish it, we will find a treat. There is ice cream and fried dough and—”
“Okay! I’ll share.”
Vanessa paid for the meal, took the paper plate of food, and found an empty table. Despite the early hour for dinner, most of the tables were taken, either by other diners or by people who wanted to sit down for a few minutes after, presumably, seeing the many attractions. The park was filled with tents—vendors selling their wares, non-profits like the food bank drumming up supporters, politicians seeking votes, local clubs, and more. There were rides for children and games for adults and kids alike. There was a petting zoo. Vanessa had picked up a whiff of it earlier when the breeze had shifted, but fortunately she couldn’t smell it now. It seemed the entire town of Nutfield, and perhaps many people from surrounding communities, had come to the Harvest Festival. 
Kat squeezed ketchup and mustard onto an empty plate and mixed them together with a french fry, all the while never slowing the continual stream of words. 
“And then I almost fell. Did you see? Mr. Caleb saved my life!”
Vanessa’s stomach swooped at the memory, but she forced a smile. “I saw. It frightened me very much.”
“I gave him a hug. I know I’m not supposed to, but I thought it would be okay. Was it okay, Mommy?”
No. It was never okay to get close to a man, any man. But she smiled at her daughter and said, “Just this once, since he saved your life.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Caleb stepped to the table, a plate in one hand, a drink in the other. “Mind if I join you?”
She did mind. She was formulating a response to send him away when he added, “Seeing as how I saved her life and all. It’s exhausting being a superhero.”
Kat giggled. “It’s okay, right, Mommy?”
Trapped. She looked up at the man and said, “I didn’t realize superheroes needed rest.”
“Not rest but”—he lifted the plate—“sustenance. It’s hard to eat standing up.”
She nodded to the empty chair. “Who knows if some other child will need your rescue tonight?”
Caleb settled in like he owned the space and engaged Kat in conversation. Was she having fun? Was the food good? Had she been to the bouncy house yet?
“Not yet. Mommy was too busy to take me before. Maybe tonight, right, Mommy?”
Caleb glanced her way. “I could take her, if you wouldn’t mind. And there are pony rides, and—”
“I will take her,” Vanessa said.
Caleb’s easy smile faded. “Okay. I’ll work the booth so you can do that.”
She wanted to tell him she had plenty of help and didn’t need his, but the truth was, she’d spent much of the afternoon alone in the booth while her volunteers had been with their own families. 
“If you wish,” she said. 
“Yay!” Katarina had barely eaten a quarter of her portion of the burger when she stood. “Can we get fried dough now?”
Vanessa glanced down at her still full plate. “I’m not finished. Sit and—”
“Johnny!” Kat rushed across the space to her friend, who was walking beside an older girl, Anna Boyle, who was Marisa and Nate’s daughter. 
They approached, and Anna said, “We were just going to the bounce house. Can Kat come with us? I’ll keep a good eye on her.”
“I do not think so.”
“Please, Mommy!” 
Anna’s dark skin and hair brought to mind Kat’s father, Carlos. But where Carlos’s features had always held cruelty, a kind spirit radiated from Anna. “I’m thirteen, and I babysit my own siblings and other people’s kids all the time. I promise not to let either of them out of my sight. We’ll hold hands when we’re walking around. They won’t get lost. Miss Rae said I could take Johnny to the pony rides and the games on the far side on the common, and Kat can come too, if you don’t mind. Or, I can take her to the bounce house and deliver her right back to your booth.”
Kat’s eyes were wide and pleading. 
Caleb, wisely, kept his mouth shut. 
Vanessa gave her daughter a stern look. “You will stay with Anna?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And if you get lost?”
“Find a mommy and ask for help. I can tell them which booth to return me to.”
“And if someone tries to take you?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Caleb flinch. 
Kat, however, was accustomed to the question. “Yell, ‘Help. This is not my daddy.’”
“Very good.” Vanessa kissed her daughter’s head, uttered a quick protect her, and said. “Be safe, ceri.” She handed Anna some money for the games. “Please deliver her back to the booth in an hour, and do not leave the common.”
“Sure thing, Miz Baker.”
Kat kissed Vanessa’s cheek, waved good-bye to Caleb, and took off with Anna. Vanessa watched until they disappeared in the crowd.
“They’ll be fine,” Caleb said.
She turned to the man who still sat across from her. The man who’d more than once invited her to join him for a meal, and whom she had rejected every time. And yet, here they sat. 
Caleb acted as if it were commonplace, so she decided to pretend to feel the same. They were colleagues, in a sense. He was on the board of directors at the food bank. He owned a chain of grocery stores, which supplied a good portion of the food that filled the shelves every week. His generous donations had helped them get off the ground and supplied much of her salary. His suggestions—those she’d decided to take—had aided her in running the place more efficiently. Thus, they were colleagues. 
Nothing more. 
“How’s the burger?” he asked.
“Not as good as they make in the restaurant, but passable.” She took a bite while he ate some of his overlong hot dog. They sipped their drinks. 
“The church has its prayer meeting Wednesday night. The way you faithfully serve the community, I thought you might want to join us this month.”
He’d asked her every month to attend the monthly prayer meeting, a gathering of believers from different Christian churches all over town. Every month, she declined. “I pray for the community faithfully. And there is nobody to watch Kat.”
“They have childcare in the annex.”
She’d heard. But who was in charge? Could she trust them? It had taken her years to get up the nerve to leave her daughter in Sunday School. Maybe it was the same people. Maybe it would be fine. But she wasn’t willing to take a chance with Kat’s life and health on a maybe. 
He said, “Join us. Remember, where two or more—”
“Thank you for the invitation. I will decline.” Again. 
He shrugged—“Suit yourself”—and took a bite of his hot dog. 
She nibbled the burger. After an awkward moment, she said, “I wanted to say—”
“You did a good job—” He spoke at the same time. He gestured to her. “Ladies first.”
“Thank you for catching Katarina this morning. Not that I believe your superhero claim, but you did save her from a nasty fall.”
He dipped his head. “Right place, right time.”
“Good catch.”
The little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened with his smile. The man was attractive enough with his dark hair, hazel eyes, and square jaw. Certainly not unattractive, anyway. He was probably a decade older than she. “Years of catching fly balls finally paying off.”
“Fly balls… This is from baseball, no?”
He chuckled. “How long have you lived in America? Surely long enough to have learned the game of baseball.” 
“I have been busy.”
He swallowed the bite and said, “Have you ever been to a game?”
“Bah. Who has time for silly games?”
Caleb sat back. “Silly? Baseball is serious business.”
“I am not from America.”
“No, you’re from…?” His eyebrows lifted as he waited for her to supply the rest of the sentence. She did not talk about herself. Some in town knew the story of her past, but they’d held her secrets closely, thank God. Caleb knew nothing of where she came from or what she had endured. But the place of her birth did not need to be kept secret. 
“Serbia,” she said, “though I am an American citizen now.”
“How could you pass a citizenship test without knowing baseball? Surely they had questions about America’s favorite pastime.”
She couldn’t help a smile but worked to keep it from growing too wide. “They only tested on foolish things like the form of government and the Constitution.”
He shook his head. “Shameful, your lack of education. I’ll have to remedy that.”
She sat back, lifted her chin. She didn’t need this man or any man to remedy her education. She’d been given as much education from men as she would ever need. 
He must have seen the shift in her expression, because his amusement faded. “Or not.”
Not. Definitely not. 
Tension stretched between them like a rubber band, and she welcomed it. She didn’t need Caleb Peterson or any other man trying to get comfortable with her and her daughter. He seemed nice enough, but it was not worth the risk. 
Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her jacket pocket and looked at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number and ignored the call. “Probably one of those robots,” she said.
“I was going to say you did a great job setting up the booth today and drawing people close. Every time I looked, there was a crowd there.”
“It does not hurt to give away candy.” Before she finished the sentence, her phone rang again. It was the same phone number. “Pardon me. I should just be sure.” At his nod, she slid the call to connect it. 
“Hello?”
A woman said in Serbian, “Is this Vojislava Bakočević?”
Her gasp came as much from the name, her given name, though nobody knew it, as from the language spoken. She hadn’t heard her native tongue in… She could not remember when. Probably since she was taken from Belgrade as a child. Taken and sold to the highest bidder. 
“Vojislava?” The speaker sounded barely more than a girl, by the high pitch of the words. She seemed… chipper. 
“Who is this?” Vanessa asked.
“It’s Nadia. Nadia Bakočević. Your sister.” 
Nadia? 
It couldn’t be. Nadia was a child. Just four years old when Vanessa had last seen her. But that had been many lifetimes past. Nadia would now be… she quickly did the math. Twenty years old. “I do not understand. Where are you?”
“In Boston! I met someone who knows you. He said I look just like you. He’s the nicest guy. I hope you don’t mind I am with him. I know you and he were close.”
Close? There was nobody in her past she’d been close to. Only abusers and guards.
Nadia continued, her voice familiar despite the years that had changed it. Her sister might be twenty, but she sounded foolish and naive, like a young teenager. Like Kat, almost.
“He said you left him for another man and wouldn’t care that we’re together, and he’s so nice. Please tell me you forgive me.”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Vanessa said. “There is no man from my past who was nice to me. They were all—”
“Abbas, of course.”
Vanessa gripped the edge of the table and swallowed the nausea that rose. Of all the men in her past… “He is a monster. You must get away from him right now.”
“He’s not!” Nadia sounded offended. Offended, when the man himself was an offense against humankind.
Abbas, who was more monster than man. 
But foolish Nadia… “If not for him, I’d never have found you. I’ve been looking for you forever. He helped me. He knows many people, even in the American government. They helped us find you. And now we’re here, and you’re just in New Hampshire, which Abbas tells me is nearby.”
“You must trust me, sister,” Vanessa said. “I will come to save you. I will—”
“Save me?” Nadia sounded confused. “I don’t need to be saved. I told Abbas I was going to call you, and he said that was a good idea, that he’d love to see you again. It’s why we’re here in Boston, so I can see you.”
Vanessa pressed a hand against her stomach to hold herself together. Abbas. She couldn’t face him again. She wouldn’t. 
But this was her sister. 
Nadia had been Vanessa’s little shadow, following her around as Vanessa cared for her siblings, cooked meals, and cleaned the house. Unlike the sister between them, Anya, who’d been quiet and studious, Nadia had never stopped talking. 
Secretly, though Vanessa had loved all her younger brothers and sisters, Nadia had always been her favorite because Nadia had been able to make Mama and Tata laugh. And herself, back when she knew how to laugh. 
Even at four years old, Nadia had been too trusting. Sixteen years hadn’t changed that, it seemed. Now, she was with Abbas.
Her sister, willingly in the arms of a monster.


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