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Rated: E · Book · Young Adult · #977061
A young women named Mara moves from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Pennsauken, New Jersey.
Pennsauken

It was spring in Philadelphia. The sun had risen about two hours ago and the city was busy with activity.
Mara had made up her mind: she was leaving. There were too many memories, too many depressing, agonizing memories. But where could she go? Mara didn’t know so she just started to walk. She had everything she needed: money, clothes, and, most importantly, the family portrait.
The morning air was cool and Mara shivered a bit as she walked down to the train station at 8th and Market Streets. She had decided to go to Pennsauken, New Jersey. Any place is better than Philly, Mara thought.
She stopped and looked inside the store windows at the jewelry, pocketbooks, mannequins wearing shorts, skirts and T-shirts holding leather bags with labels like “9 West” and “Tommy Hilfiger” on them.
Mara stopped at another window. The poster inside read “Hair Braiding” and showed a picture of a beautiful young African-American woman with a head full of long, tight braids. Mara liked braids, especially in the summer. But most of the time she kept her long, coarse hair in a bushy ponytail.
Mara walked on. She heard fast footsteps behind her. Mara clutched her pocketbook but it wasn’t enough. The man ran up behind Mara, grabbed her bag and was off. Mara ran after him shouting, “You get back here, you punk!”
The man paid no attention and kept moving. Another young man came around the corner. By this time, Mara had tired out. The young man gave her a small ray of hope.
When Mara saw him she said, “Him, him! He stole my pocketbook.”
The young man looked at Mara, then at the man. He grabbed the thief by his jacket, snatched the pocketbook and brought the thief’s face close to his own. All he did was give him an imposing stare and the man got the point.
The young man walked over to Mara and held her pocketbook out to her. “Thank you so much,” she said as she took it from him.
“Oh sure,” the young man said. He noticed her duffel bag. “Going somewhere?”
“Pennsauken.”
“Really? I live in Pennsauken. I’m Toby. Toby Gideon. My father’s the police chief there.”
“Mara Clark.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.”
The two shook hands.
“Listen,” Toby said as Mara turned to leave. “If you need anything look me up.”
Mara nodded. “I will. Thanks.”
Toby smiled and walked away.
It took Mara about twenty minutes to get to the train station. She bought a one way ticket, and went down to where the trains ran. She leaned against one of the pillars and looked around. Several different conversations tangled into one another. Mara listened to one in particular. A young woman, Stephanie was complaining to her friend, Leah, about her boyfriend, who had dumped her.
“Oh, Leah!” Stephanie hissed. “He is such a jerk!”
“What’d he do?” Leah asked.
“What’d he do?” the other woman screamed. “Ya know Michaela Jackson?”
Leah shrugged. “Sure.”
Stephanie sighed. “Jerkhead found himself in the middle of a kissing fest with Miss Michaela. Oh! I’m going to kill him!”
“Calm down, Steph. There’ll be other guys. You’re beautiful. Any guy’ll go for you.”
Mara’s mind drifted. She looked down the tunnel to see if the train was coming. It wasn’t. Mara turned to the two young women who were now busy talking about cute boy celebrities: Vin Diesel, Justin Timberlake, Justin Guarini, Brad Pitt, and the like.
They left out Usher, Mara thought. He was literally one of the cutest male celebrities she had ever seen: black hair; brown eyes; brown skin; lovely voice.
Quit swooning, Mara told herself. She could remember when she and her boyfriend had broken up. Actually, Mara had broken up with him. She felt free afterwards. Rashad is the true meaning of jerk, Mara thought. Stephanie’s boyfriend’s got nothing on him.
There was the sound of footsteps coming down the train station steps. Mara turned around. A mother and her little boy had just arrived. The ceiling started to rumble like thunder. Everyone in the room but Mara looked up. Mara looked down the tracks. Nothing was coming.
She looked at the little boy. He was clinging to his mother. “Don’t worry, Julian,” the woman said. “That’s just the trains running on the floor above us.”
“Won’t the trains fall, Mommy?” the little boy asked.
“No. The ceiling is strong enough to hold the train up. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The little boy loosened his grip on his mother’s coat.
Mara smiled. She and her mother used to go shopping in New Jersey, to the Cherry Hill or Moorestown Mall, or, on that rare, special occasion, the Franklin Mills Outlet. They would spend hours there just shopping. At noon they would stop at the food court. Then back to shopping, then home.
Mara cherished those memories of what life was like at home back then, before her mother died. She was twelve then. Her father was devastated. They had been married for twenty years. Family life as Mara knew it began to fall apart. Her Dad sent her two-year-old brother, Kyle, to live with their Aunt Callie, in Pennsauken. Then, one day, Mara came home from school and no one was home. She called around to see where her father might be, but he was nowhere to be found. She went into her bedroom and there, on her pillow, was a wad of cash, twenty-five hundred dollars. No note, no instructions on what to do with it, just twenty-five hundred dollars.
Mara was seventeen and alone.
She was frightened. But she thought a little. The mortgage had been paid off. She could remember her parents’ mini-celebration. She had a job at the library and friends she could count on.
That was a hard year, Mara thought. But I made it.
The train station began to rumble deafeningly again as before but this time the train was on the same floor. The train stopped and everyone got on. The train was crowded with people going to work.
Mara sat down beside an older woman. “Good morning,” the woman said.
Mara looked at her. “Morning.”
“No school today?”
“Not for me.”
“Oh. Visiting relatives?”
Mara thought a moment. Why didn’t I think of that before? she thought. She made up her mind. “Yeah.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
The train bumped as it came to a stop. “Have a nice day,” the woman said as she got up and got off.
“You too.” Mara called after her.
Now that the empty seat was all hers, Mara stretched out and relaxed. She took out her family portrait. Her mother and father were on either side of her and her little brother, Kyle, was sitting on her lap.
Mara stared blankly into her father’s smiling eyes. He looked so handsome. The whole family looked nice. The year was 1996. Mara was twelve, Kyle was two, everyone was happy; everything was perfect. Something happened. Mom and Dad had a disagreement, Mara recalled. Mom got frustrated and went for a drive and was killed in a car accident. She tried to avoid a car that had run a red light but was killed in the head on collision.
Mara shivered. The train reeled and came to a stop. Mara got off, jogged up the stairs, and put her ticket in the machine. Almost immediately a bum came up to her.
“Can ya spare anything?” he asked his mouth showing yellow, tobacco stained teeth.
Mara sneered. “Not for you,” she said and kept moving. The man stepped in front of her.
“Please,” he pleaded. This time Mara smelled the beer on his breath.
“I said beat it, Beerbreath,” she snapped and went on her way.
The bum proceeded to follow her as she walked across the room. Mara stuck her tongue in her cheek. Suddenly, she whirled around. “Go! I’m not giving you anything.” Sure that “Beerbreath” understood, Mara walked out of the building and into the warm sunshine.
She breathed a sigh of relief. That was easy. Just a short train ride.
Now I need a job, Mara thought. She looked around her immediate area. Nothing looked interesting, or like something she could do.
Mara found a phone book and leafed through it looking for restaurants. “Penn Queen,” she whispered.
She caught a bus to the diner and bought herself some lunch. As she was paying for her meal she asked if they were hiring.
“Oh, you’re looking for a job?” the young woman asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll go get the manager for you.”
“Thank you.”
In five minutes the young woman returned with the manager a short, stocky man. “I hear you’re looking for a job.”
“That’s right.”
“I could use another hostess. Do you have good people skills?”
Mara shrugged. “Sure.”
“The job starts at 8 a.m. and goes till 8 p.m., Monday through Wednesday. Uh, what’s your name?”
“Mara.”
“Tell you what, Mara: I’ll give you a try-out tomorrow and see how you do, then decide whether or not to hire you.”
“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr.…”
“Mr. Jamison.”
“Mr. Jamison.” Mara turned and walked out.
I’d better find someplace to stay. Mara was feeling independent now almost like she was ready to take on the world. It would’ve been easy to call Aunt Callie but Mara wanted to make her own way. So, she spent the rest of the day looking for rooms for rent. There was something decidedly wrong with each one of them. One was above a garage and every time the garage door opened or closed the entire room shook; another was filthy. The last one smelled entirely of cat.
Finally, in desperation, Mara called Callie, and got the answering machine. She didn’t leave a message because there was no way Callie could call her back. It was, after all a pay phone she was using.
Suddenly, Mara’s eyes opened and she practically leapt on the phone book. She leafed through it furiously until she found what she was looking for: Gideon. Quickly she memorized the number, put in two more quarters and dialed.
The phone rang once, twice, a third time. Please pick up,” Mara thought. Please. You’re my last hope.
“Hello?” someone said on the other end. It was a woman’s voice.
“Hello. Is this the Gideon residence?”
“Yes it is. Who’s this?”
“My name is Mara Clark. I’m an acquaintance of Toby. May I speak to him please?”
“Hold on.”
After a moment: “Hello?”
“Hi, Toby. It’s Mara from earlier, remember?”
“Oh, yeah the one I got the pocketbook back for, right?”
“Yeah. I need your help. I need someplace to stay for the night. Any suggestions?”
“It just so happens that we have a room for rent at our house.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“How much is the rent?”
“Fifty-five dollars a week with dinner.”
“Where’s your house?”
Toby gave her the address and then asked, “Need directions?”
“Sure”
Toby gave her directions to the house and then asked, “Will I be seeing you soon?”
“Yes, you will.”
“All right. See you soon. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Sweet guy, Mara thought as she hung up.
When Mara approached the house she fixed herself up and knocked. After a moment the door opened. It was Toby. He smiled when he saw Mara. “Hi.”
Mara grinned. “I told you I’d be here soon.”
“Come on in.”
“Thank you.”
“Mom!” Toby called. “Mom!”
“Coming sweetie.” The answer came from the basement.
Mara looked around. It was a very comfortable house. Black leather furniture, a large painting on the wall. Something moved next to Mara’s feet and she looked down to see an orange and white tabby-cat looking up at her. It meowed. She smiled to herself. She loved animals. “Cute cat,” she said.
“Oh, that’s Tiger. He actually belongs to my sister, Jennifer.”
Mara nodded.
A moment later Mrs. Gideon appeared. “Are you the young lady that I spoke to on the phone earlier?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please. Call me Terry.”
“Um, may I see the room?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Toby, please, would you show her?”
“Sure, Mom. Follow me, Mara.”
It was a normal bedroom. The walls were white. In the far right corner was a wooden desk with a lamp. On the wall to the right was a twin bed with a simple sheet and blanket. On the wall to the left was a bookcase on top of which was a radio. Beside the bookcase were a dresser, and an empty closet. In the far-left corner was an old rocker. On the facing wall was a window that revealed a large side yard and huge bush.
Mara sat on the bed, bouncing on it a little. It squeaked a bit, but not enough to cause any real annoyance.
Mara noticed something on the wall and touched it gently. It was tape residue. “Why was there tape on the wall?”
“Oh, my brother used to hang rock and roll posters on the wall.”
“Oh.”
“By the way, you get kitchen privileges,” Toby offered.
Mara thought a moment. Nice size, looked clean enough, nice design, not cluttered. “I think I’ll take it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Toby smiled wider than ever. “Cool.”
They walked back into the living room. “Mom!” Toby called.
“I’m right here, honey,” Terry answered from the kitchen. I’ll be in in a minute.”
About thirty seconds later she came into the living room. “Well,” Terry said, “how do you like the room?”
“It’s great. I’ve decided to rent it.”
“Wonderful!” Just then the microwave timer beeped that it was done. “Oh! Time to plate the food. Will you be joining us, Mara?”
“Okay. Let me just put my stuff in my room.”
“Go ahead.”
Mara turned and walked back to her room. She tossed her duffel bag on the bed. Her bed, she realized as she took out her family portrait and put it on the dresser. Mara smiled as she looked at it.
Finally, she sighed. She felt at ease here.
Mara sighed again. “I have an address,” she whispered.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/977061-Family-Portrait