Finding Your Heart

                                                                                          *Excerpt from Chapter 1*

To Portland

July 24, 1990

6:00 p.m.

“Go to Swan Harbor, Maine.”

“It’s been seven years. Why did it show up after all this time?”

“You needed it.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Just go. Don’t overthink it.”

“My life is here.”

“He wanted you to go there.”

“He did. But he won’t be there.”

Pieces of a conversation filtered through Marci’s head. What choice did she have? She’d seen them – the men who’d taken her heart. If they’d seen her ….

“Safe. You’ll be safe then.”

“I hate leaving …”

“We’ll meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“I can’t ask you to do—”

“You didn’t. I have an idea. Trust me.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

In the end, she’d had no choice.

Marci hugged the old backpack and tried to sleep. She’d lost track of how many buses she’d been on since that day. More than she could remember, just not as many as she’d been on in the past. Hiding in plain sight was something she’d had too much practice doing in her twenty-eight years. Would she ever reach that place where running would no longer be necessary? 

The bus hit a pothole, and the bile climbed into the back of her throat. Marci swallowed hard and willed her stomach to settle. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead and upper lip. She pressed her face against the cool window and took several slow, steady breaths. If she could only make it to ….

She’d listened to her doctor and scheduled an appointment with a specialist. Everything was all set until ….

Don’t look back!

Power forward!

Except every time she’d thought she’d made it, something always got in the way. Why?

Your journey is almost over.

When had she heard those words? Where had she heard those words? In times of danger, they returned, pushing her forward. They made her feel safe.

An hour later, the bus pulled into the Portland, Maine, bus station. Marci barely made it to the ladies’ room and leaned over the toilet. Bile burned the back of her throat and tears sprang to her eyes. Was she doing the right thing?

Go to Swan Harbor, Maine.

She rinsed out her mouth and stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin was pasty, her face thin, eyes hollow, and her dark hair stringy. Who was she?

On not quite steady legs, she made her way to the ticket window. Sweat dotted her forehead, yet she was shivering. Her stomach cramped, and the nausea wouldn’t go away.

Just a little farther, then safety.

“What will it be?” the cashier asked.

“I want …” Marci’s voice cracked. She swallowed, then tried again. “A one-way ticket to Swan Harbor, Maine.”

“Fifteen dollars, please.”

Marci pushed a twenty through the window and noticed her hands were shaking.

“The bus leaves in a half-hour,” the woman explained. “Listen for the boarding call, because it doesn’t wait.”

“Thank you.”

She stepped away from the window, and a wave of dizziness rushed over her. Marci grabbed the counter for balance and waited, hoping her head would right itself.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Rather than startle her, the soft voice calmed. “Miss, can I help you?”

“I’m just,” she looked up to meet the concerned eyes of a custodial worker, “I’m just a little dizzy.”

“Let me help.”

Marci once again met the grizzled older man’s eyes. They were comforting, and her sixth sense wasn’t shouting danger.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“It’s my job.” His dark eyes twinkled, and a mischievous smile flitted across his face, making him look younger. “My name’s Ernie. I’ll just get you some water.”

Before she could accept or decline, he’d scurried off, leaving her to get settled in one of the hard plastic chairs.

“Here you go.”

She took the bottle. It was cold, and she was tempted to press it against her forehead, instead of drinking it. 

“Do you need some help?”

“Help?”

“Opening it.” Ernie nodded toward the bottle.

“Oh, no. I can …” Except her fingers were clumsy, and when she couldn’t immediately open it, he took it from her. 

“Drink slowly,” Ernie instructed.

Marci took a sip of the water and prayed it would stay down. She kept thinking she should be uncomfortable with Ernie’s assessing gaze. Instead, he gave her a sense of peace.

“Where’s your journey taking you, Child?”

“Swan Harbor,” she murmured. “Do you know it?”

“Yes’m. Very well. It’s a special place.” He hesitated a beat. “Are you well enough to travel, though? No offense, ma’am, but you don’t look so good.”

Marci took another sip of water, and the cold caused her stomach to roll. “I can make it,” she replied, without really answering.

“Do you have family there?”

“I, I’ll be okay,” Marci assured him.

The older man’s eyes bore into hers, and he gently squeezed her fingers. His skin was much darker than her own, and his hands were rough from hard work. Why did he affect her like he did? Shouldn’t she be freaking out – even just a little?

She’d been through bad times in her life. Which meant she didn’t easily trust people. Nor did she spend time talking to strangers – especially ones she’d met in a bus station.

“You’ll be safe in Swan Harbor.”

“I hope so,” Marci whispered. “I’m tired.”

“Your journey has been long,” he stated. “It’s almost over.”

Marci stilled. Had she just been warned? “It’s almost over? What do you mean? Am I going to—?”

“No!” Ernie cut her off. “That wasn’t what I meant. I just meant that, since Swan Harbor is a place for lost hearts, perhaps you’ll find yours there.”

“Find my heart?” Marci sighed. “I’m afraid that’s an impossible feat.” 

“Open your heart, Marci. Remember, things happen when they’re meant to happen.” 

To be continued …