Not a feather’s breadth between them.

The hidden dangers of living, like the creeping black undertow, belies the troubles it can bring. Choices from eyes that are too blind to see and hearts that have turned to stone, stack the deck against life travelers making it all so unfair. There is a light at the end of a difficult road waiting for the bravest who travel alone. Promises of hope are too far in the future.

Yet, there is no turning back.

There is no parallel universe although the idea is grand. There is no avatar substitute when living grows too hard. There is no treatment for the realities of life that crash into the world like runaway trains on crack. Yet, there is a fragment of hope, thin as a baby’s fine air, that continuing could become a reality. Odds are slim at best, though.

The sun still clung sleepily to its space just below the horizon, and the fading crescent moon dipped as if sliding down the back of the sky. A palette of blues and grays spilled across the sky, and the sands were shades of blanched almonds. All the colors produced a serenity that belied the outside world. A stillness held everything at bay, even the emotions on slow boil just beneath the surface of Katie’s fragile mind. She had retreated to the beach seeking healing and a chance to salvage what little was left of her nervous system. Her life had been a review course for the media-saturated reality shows that profited off the lives of suffering souls. She knew in her heart that the only hope of healing would lie in the roots of her very existence, the place where it had all begun. Tybee Island seemed to be her last chance.

The starting point of her memory, the one that shows where it all began, was a blur. Katie just knew that being on the island flooded her with memories that hugged her and pulled at her heartstrings. If she closed her eyes, she had vivid images of her grandmother Dolly’s first beach house, the one that sat on Second Street standing watch over the ocean. It was a big shell of a house and each nook and cranny, every cot and double bed, was filled to overflowing with children, cousins and uncles, and then some whom Katie could not remember how they owned the right to a place to sleep. Although Katie was the only child of an only child, she was used to Dolly’s brand of kinship, which was modeled after the old lady in the shoe.

One particular memory seemed to demand more attention than most. Dolly had invited Johnny Stapleton and his niece, Laura Ann, to the beach for an extended visit. Johnny, the best man in their wedding, was a newly appointed monsignor. Dolly believed in maintaining a close proximity to the clergy where a little holiness might just rub off. Besides, he was humorous and the fairest man she had ever known. Laura Ann, his precocious and horribly spoiled niece, wore two faces that changed when the timing was right. At the advanced age of fourteen, Laura Ann was showing distinct patterns of narcissism rare in such a young child. However, she was blonde and cool and a magnet for tweens who longed for a role model. For Katie, it was a love hate relationship, but since Laura Ann was staying for the summer once again, Katie had little choice but to bite her lip and suck it up.

One hot sultry night in early August, Laura Anne gathered her favorites for a trip to the local Tastee Freeze. The star of the menu, large vanilla cones dipped in chocolate, dripped in oozy streams down their shirts and smeared across sunburned cheeks and noses. Laura Anne magnanimously treated the entire affair dousing any flame Katie had been working on to diminish Laura Anne’s status. Not until the next morning, when Dolly asked if anyone had taken money from her purse, did Katie feel vindicated, yet not brave enough to tell on the little blonde thief. That Monseigneur thing and all was just a little too scary for her.

Laura Anne was many things besides a thief and a liar. One night when forced to share a double bed with her, Katie laid on her side and listened to Laura Anne talk in her winsome way.

“You know, Katie, I heard my parents talking about you the other night, and they said you were an orphan. I really think that is so sad. They said you would have lots of problems growing up without parents.”

Katie felt that gut-twisting wound, much like a sucker punch, deep inside her stomach. Nowhere to put that kind of pain, like the one that comes when a doctor adds a postscript to a cancer prognosis.

“Why would I have lots of problems? I still have Dolly to take care of me. And don’t forget Cat.”

“Sorry. Not the same as parents. And, all the kids at school will know you are an orphan. You know, that’s kinda creepy living without a mom and a dad. But anyway, my parents, which I have two, say that Dolly is too old to raise you. They also said she’s a religious freak so you’re in for double trouble.”

Actually, the pain from this kick was not as bad as the first. Luckily, it was too dark for Laura Anne to see Katie’s face, but it might have scared her to death if she had. Katie’s journey down denial lane, that curvy twisted road where emotions are shoved, shaved, and stuffed into meaningless little balls too slippery to catch, began that night. Only trouble is, in the darkness of their caves, they multiply and plot schemes to wreck your life when you least expect it.

Resisting the urge to bury herself under the covers, Katie hissed words to the bully in bed with her, “What about your uncle, the Monsignor? He’s way holier than Dolly.”

Laura Anne just giggled. “That’s what I mean. My parents do not believe all that God stuff and they make fun of my uncle. I hate it, too. So I have my uncle and you have your grandmother. Two religious freaks. An orphan and a religious freak, that’s what everyone will call you.”

Silence stood by the bed and snuffed out any hint of a sound. Katie struggled to swallow that thick sob waiting to be released. Katie wanted to be strong and ignore all that Laura Ann had just spewed all over her, but it was a supreme challenge.

As if on cue, Laura Ann rolled over and whispered to Katie, “By the way, my dad starting laughing and called you Rapunzel. You know, the girl locked away in an ivory tower – you have heard the story …so no one would ever find her. Dad said Dolly would probably send you to a convent school to keep you away from boys. My parents laughed Laura Ann giggled that obnoxious smirk that always defines the precocious child who spends way too much time with adults and believes all the ‘how adorable’ lies they tell.

“By the way, Katie, if you tell anyone I said anything of these things to you, I’ll call you a liar and swear I never said a word. Good night, That sob exploded while Katie cried into her pillow, desperately trying not to let Laura Anne hear her. The cruelty of the words looping across the marquee of her mind crushed her. Over and over, it played until Katie was quite sure it was true. Why else would she say it? Katie was alone except for Dolly, and though she had never thought of herself as an orphan, she suddenly felt very alone in an ever-darkening world.

Katie had always believed that Dolly was the consummate reader of people. However, certain factors could blur the waters enough to drive her divining rod off target. As was the case with Laura Anne. She had tried to tell Dolly about Laura Anne’s killer words, but she could not bring herself to repeat them. Suppose Dolly could not hide the fact that they were true? But no matter what Katie told her, Dolly would always say ‘forgive her and move on. Don’t look back on what she said or did, just let it go.’ It did not make any sense that someone could be that hateful and not get in trouble for it. There just had to be some kind of justice. Didn’t there?

It would be a long time before Katie could put thought and word to it, but she knew she would have to listen to her inner voice, that part that warns, in a tingling, something’s wrong kind of way. Just a knowing in the pit of the stomach. Almost like a radio station just off tune. But as soon as she came face to face with that feeling that the stars were marching out of step, she would grow much afraid and begin a lifelong pattern of pushing her feelings way down deep….deep unto deep…until the darkness.