Kensington Cove

Chapter 2: S1 Ethan: A Day Late. A Dollar Short

Sadie Reed

"Turn right." Sadie Reed's pink and purple cell phone's navigation system pierces the

interior silence of the QX50 Infinity.

The car continues to coast in the dark over an unfamiliar rural Texas road. Fingers wrapped

tightly around the wheel, Sadie takes a sharp right.

"Would it kill ya to give an advance notice next time?"

The car's bald, smooth tires screech over the pitted two-lane road, then she skids off the

shoulder.

Her backpack purse topples over and lands with a thump on the floorboard, spilling the

contents.

"Oh, great. That's just fucking great!"

A quick glance in the rearview mirror reveals an undisturbed pile of clothes on the

backseat.

"Well," she said with a heavy sigh. "At least nothing else avalanched."

Plastic hangers of all different shapes, colors, and sizes stick out of her clothing in every

direction. In hindsight, she wonders if she should've taken more time to pack things neater, but

when late on rent and fleeing one's apartment without notice, time becomes a luxury, one she

couldn't partake in.

Moving to the ranch in Kensington Cove hadn't been on her agenda today. Hell, she still

had things to do and wanted to save more money before leaving San Antonio, Texas.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the plan, not today.

A single sigh leaves her lips. She should've known something was up when Gus, at the

Five and Dine Café, called her into his office. During that fifteen-minute 'pep talk,' her life had

turned from semi-crap to, well, a healthy heaping of shit that, if left alone, would surly run

downhill.

"Gotta cut corners," he was mumbling something about losing money and an overstaffed

crew as if that shit had mattered to her.

She recalls something a past school counselor had told her. When one door closes, another

opens.

If that's true, she sure as shit hoped it would lead to something far better than working two

jobs for little pay. But who was she to complain? Between working for Gus and the gas station,

she made enough to pay the bills, almost always late, but hey, she paid them eventually.

At least at Gus' place, he let her eat a meal there each day. So, that kind of helped

supplement her food bill. But now, she found herself at the crossroad of change. She could stay

in San Antonio, and try to find another crappy paying job, or take another path. And truthfully,

she could find a shitty job anywhere.

So, it's not as if she had anything to lose. Plus, without a job, there's nowhere to live.

Homelessness doesn't rank high on her list of things to experience, again. And it damn sure isn't

an accomplishment - not one she wants to be added to her resume or bucket list.

Growing up in the foster care system teaches one to never count on staying in one place for

too long, which suits her fine, but now, things are differ.

Where she's heading leads to an actual home - to a family ranch, roots unknown to her,

which is cool. Unfortunately, her ancestral line runs slim, or so the attorney says, because they're

all dead.

So, once again, she hit a brick wall in finding out about where she's from and who her

people were.

I'm a day late and a dollar short, she thinks.

But, at least, this time, she's running to her own place instead of leaving someone else's,

and she's got the paperwork to prove it.

The cell inside the cracked phone holder attached to the air vent shows the next turn is

nine-tenths of a mile away.

Her stomach gurgles, and butterflies bounce around. She can't tell if it's from hunger or the

stress of the unknown.

A farmhouse, barn, and corral sit on the property in good condition, at least from the aerial

photos. Some quick internet searches before she left brought up indigenous wildlife: turkeys,

armadillos - which carry bacteria causing leprosy, or so an article had said - deer, snapping

turtles, wild pigs, raccoons, rabbits, and bobcats, as well as mountain lions, coyotes, and gray

wolves.

The thought of running into hunting pack-animals, carnivores, does nothing for her.

Hell, I'd rather find a group of leprosy-dillos than entertain a pack of large cats or wolves.

The headlights of the car illuminate a green reflective sign.

"Kensington Cove City limits." Population stats, nine hundred and ninety-one, flashes

before her eyes.

The road ahead twists and turns, matching the crazy signs posted at each blind curve.

Who the fuck designs a rollercoaster fun ride as a country road? Leaning over the steering

wheel, she searches for the yellow line dividing the two lanes.

"Where the fuck is it?"

Every six to ten feet, a faded strip of yellow splits the road. Making it hard to see where to

direct the wheels of the car.

She glances out the window, looking for the line of the shoulder, and finds nothing but

brush, dense woodland, and moonlight.

Another winding sign comes into view, and she rides the brake, slowing down.

A few fireflies, or what she hopes, are fireflies and not eyes, glow in the thicket close to

the shoulder.

"Signal lost." The electronic voice grates on her last nerve.

"What the hell?"

She rips the phone free of the docking station.

"Are you freakin' kidding me? How the hell are there no bars?"

A quick push of the button on the side of the device starts a cold reboot.

Come on. Come on. You piece of shit."

The phone vibrates, and the logo flashes across the screen.

A horn blares in her ears. She yelps and then glances up.

In the road in front of her, a single headlight shines in her eyes.

"Holy fuck." She drops the phone.

Both hands on the wheel, she swerves to miss the oncoming light, but she ends up in a

ditch.

Sadie slams the car into park, leaving the engine running.

All of her earthly belongings, once on the backseat, now occupy more of the floorboard,

pressing against the back of her seat.

Eyes closed, she presses the back of her head against the seat and wills the pounding of her

heart to recede.