The Living Secret

Chapter 1

     August 11th 1990, Bridgetown Quebec. A terrified Clara Owens slapped the pregnancy test she had been waiting for onto the cold, white bathroom counter. She could hear the Jimmy Swaggart tape playing quietly in the kitchen, where her mother and father were. Casually cooking and reading the bible or a newspaper while listening, they practically worshipped the man. He mostly talked about sinning, and other things in relation to god. Playing his talks on repeat wasn't unusual and Clara was used to it by now. "Come on, come on, come on" she whispered quietly and impatiently to herself. She glanced up, briefly catching two pink lines. She looked down at the floor again quickly. "nooooo" she whispered to herself furiously. She looked again, clearly seeing that it was true, she was pregnant. She stepped back, leaning her hands on the counter to steady herself, but it wasn't enough. The room spun around her. She slid down the wall and sat on the yellow bath mat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking nervously.
     All bad possibilities came rushing to her mind. She knew if her very religious parents found out she would be shunned. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but it wasn't as far from the truth as you'd think. How was she supposed to raise a kid anyway? She practically still was one. Usually tears kept their distance from Clara, a generally happy person, but today they rushed out to greet her cheeks. She shook her head, attempting to reassure herself. Tons of people had false tests, right? So maybe this was the case. Clara leapt to her feet, shaking her head. She avoided making eye contact with herself in the oval shaped mirror, telling herself it had to be false. She tucked her straight blonde hair behind her ears, quickly wiping away her tears and streaming mascara with the sleeve of her knitted blue sweater. "I'll just take another one" she whispered to herself one last time. She nodded, forcing a half smile onto her face.
     But the next test displayed two pink lines as well. Convinced it was totally wrong, she took fourteen tests over the next two weeks, but they all showed the same results. She denied her pregnancy's existence until it was basically impossible. 8 weeks after taking the first test, she knew there was no pretending anymore. Feeling nauseous was totally normal now and a tiny bump began to form. That's how she knew she had to go.
     It was a Wednesday morning and her parents had just gone off to a church meeting. She pulled the red suitcase out from under her bed, and kept the packing light. She grabbed her Mason jar that was packed with cash. Each time she had received a paycheque from her work at the local coffee shop, she put half into her jar. As well as the occasional pocket change she carried around, the jar held around five hundred dollars. After packing a few sweaters and 3 pairs of jeans she threw in the jar. Collecting her toothbrush she hustled to the kitchen. She knew she had to leave a note or her parents would both have heart attacks. "Hey. I knew you wouldn't approve of this but I'm going through a rough time. I will call you once I'm settled. Don't worry or do anything crazy, going to stay with Mary for awhile. Will be home within the week. With love from Clara." 
     Mary was Clara's best friend until she graduated just a year ago. She moved to Saskatchewan right after graduation and Clara hadn't heard from her since then. She wasn't really going to stay with her and she wasn't coming back. She grabbed her car keys from the key hook near the door. The back board on the key hook read "the truth will set you free". Underneath the key hook was a shelf with all of their personal information and files, she noticed her passport stuck out from the bottom shelf. Without a second thought she grabbed it, turning over the key hook quote in her mind. She grabbed her car keys and roughly threw her stuff into her car. She was strictly allowed the car for getting herself to and from school and work and running small errands for her parents and occasionally herself. Tonight was different, she had to go.  She drove through the day and the key hook quote stuck with her, for a reason she was unsure of.
     She didn't really have a destination, she just drove. Southbound. She soon reached a town about an hour from the United States border. A place called
Petit Paris, meaning little Paris. She had never heard of this place. It was small with a few stores scattered around, but Clara didn't pay much attention. Continuing on, she drove out of the town heading for the border when she came across what appeared to be a large house. It was white, surrounded by a short white picket fence. She noticed a large white sign just outside the fence, Lit et Petit Dejeuner,  which means bed and breakfast in french. She pulled into the wide driveway, deciding this looked like a decent place to stay. By this time evening was setting in, the sky showed beautiful sun setting tones of pink and orange. Wild rose bushes grew against the house, flower boxes littered the front porch and steps. Stepping out of the car she could still feel the summer heat. To get to the door she trampled down long grass, her converse sneakers almost became knotted in the long grass several times. Clara noticed the house looked quite old. She walked up the steps that creaked under her feet, knocking the brass knocker loudly and almost instantly heard shuffling from inside.
     The door creaked open "bonjour", beamed a happy, high voice. Clara looked down, seeing an older lady perched in a wheel chair. She had very short wirey grey hair and a long thin nose. Her lips were pushed into a wrinkled smile, and her eyes showed just how tired she was. She wore a purple robe and white slippers, "um hello," Clara said quietly. "What can I do for ya?" the woman said in a rougher voice this time. Clara was taken by surprise to hear english and the woman's voice this time. "I'm looking for a place to stay?" Clara asked. "Yes, yep come on in," said the woman roughly again. She backed up her wheel chair slowly, revealing an extremely messy house and to Clara's surprise, a tall staircase. She silently wondered how the woman managed this, being in a wheelchair and all. She slowly stepped into the house, feeling cool air immediately. "I'm sorry for the mess, bein the way I am." She stated, "you know" she finished. Clara assumed she was referring to her wheelchair. Clara nodded "it's a beautiful place,"she said politely. "Well it sure used to be." said the woman harshly. The woman turned to the right, entering what seemed to be the kitchen. The room was huge, butter yellow walls with white cupboards. But dishes littered the place, dust and spilled food seemed to be glowing every which way. "I'm Penny, by the way," she said. Clara nodded, staring at the floor. "And you are?" Penny asked loudly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Clara," she said, still distracted by the place. Books and news papers covered the small, round kitchen table.
     Penny wheeled herself around a corner, behind the kitchen to a door. She leaned forward, pushing it open. This room had to be the worst of all. There was two desks on either side of the room with chairs, and straight ahead was a large window. The furniture was hard to see because of the incredible mess. Newspapers, files, binders, papers, bills and any other documents you could imagine scattered around the room, even the floor. It didn't appear to faze Penny at all, she wheeled herself to the desk on the left and opened the first drawer, handing Clara a red painted key. "Husband used to do a lot around here, keep the place going," Penny began, "passed six months ago. S'now it's just me runnin the place, can't afford help" she said. Clara could hear the hurt in her voice this time. "Wow I'm sorry," said Clara.
     Without thinking she chimed "well maybe I could help you around here, you know. Maybe in trade for a stay here?" She exclaimed happily, then looking at the floor. Embarrassed, realizing how ridiculous she sounded and wondering where this idea of hers even came from. "Well maybe I'll take you up on that. Don't have no where to be?" Penny asked. Clara was taken aback by this, "N-no. No ma'am" she said, shaking her head. "I'll have to think on that one," Penny said, winking. Clara wasn't really sure what Penny had meant, or what she had just gotten herself into. "Back the way we came now," Penny grumbled, gesturing for Clara to turn around. She did, slowly walking towards the front door again. "Look. I haven't been up there myself in awhile, not since the accident." She announced, looking down at her legs. "Anyway, husband was the last one to clean and prepare the room so it looks amazing, I can assure you. Room 2, second door on the right" she said, showing off her wrinkly smile again. "Thank you" said Clara. "What time would you like breakfast?" Penny asked. "Oh, no you don't have t-" Clara began, but Penny cut her off "Oh yes I do. Believe me, this woman may not be able to walk but she sure as hell can cook. 10 o'clock alright?" Penny asked. Clara chuckled, "fine," she said smiling, hopping up the stairs.
     The room was just as Penny told her it would be. Absolutely incredible. Though it was covered in a light dust, Clara understood and expected it to be. The floor was white carpet and the room was painted a light melon-green colour. There was a large window with sheer white lace curtains, drawn back, letting in the limited amount of sunlight that there was at this time. There was a double bed, covered with a white, duvet, pillows and sheets. It was made flawlessly. There was a small closet and next to it a door. Clara walked towards the door, curiously. She pulled it opened with a creak, revealing a white bathroom. Clara walked into the room, a nook in the wall held a white bath tub, with a shower above. A window above the bathtub was covered with the same sheer lacy curtains.
     Clara began to draw a bath. She couldn't help but eye her growing stomach in the mirror. She felt warm streams trickling down her face, realizing she was crying. She shook her head, putting her mind elsewhere. She began to think about her deal with Penny, if Penny took her up on it. The place did have a lot of potential. All it really needed was some cleaning and tidying. Clara went to bed early that night, she was tired but continued to think about the key hook quote. She still wasn't sure why.