Memoir of a runaway girl - A true story!
Here we are, about three blocks from the motel, I was on my knees trying to pull these needles out of his leg. He was on the verge of tears. I didn’t realize, until it was too late, that they have little barb hooks on the end. I was pulling them straight out, which apparently wasn’t the right way to do it.
We headed back to the motel where he lied on the bed and I got a wet cloth and slowly pulled each one out carefully this time. I must have pulled out more then ten of them. His leg was quite red and swelled up. He was down right angry with me over this entire mishap.
All was well after about an hour or so. We had some fun, watched TV and goofed around for the next few days. Money was thinning out and we needed to figure something out before we went broke, so I approached the office at the motel and asked if they needed anyone to clean rooms. Sure enough they did and they were very willing to pay me cash for the work.
Now that I had secured a small job, we could breathe a little easier. About two weeks after us being there, I pulled out that piece of paper Rachel gave me and I decided it was time to call her.
She answered, and I said, “Hi, it is Abby from the island. You drove us to the motel a couple weeks ago?”
Our conversation was pretty much one sided, me doing all the talking. She got an earful of our events. Rachel’s response was actually quite surprising, immediately she offered to come and get us and bring us to her home.
We waited about thirty minutes and there she was, in her taxi waiting for us to come out. I went to the driver’s window and asked if I should bring anything with me?
She said “Nope, just yourselves, we are making dinner for you and bought some wine, so it may be a long night”.
I was ecstatic with the idea since it had been only the two of us for the past couple weeks. I desperately wanted some social time with someone other than just Remo.
Rachel pulled into her driveway, a beautiful home and a couple other taxis in the garage. She explained that she and her husband started their own taxi company a few years ago and it was doing very well.
As we entered her home, her husband, who was much older than we had anticipated he would be, came to greet us. He shook our hands and we followed him into the living room. The house had a wonderful smell of cooking and I was certainly hungry.
We all sat down, talked about why Remo and I were in Florida, we were going to get married. That sparked Rachel immediately. She apparently loved weddings. The next thing we knew she was coming up with all these ideas for our wedding. We explained we were just going to city hall but needed two witnesses and of course they offered to stand up for us. It was all planned, February 6, 1980, we would go to the justice of the peace and say our vows, Rachel and Tom would be our witnesses.
Was I doing the right thing? No, probably not.
But it certainly was a way to leave my past behind me and start living a wonderful new life.
During the following week we got our marriage license, our blood tests, and got all our ducks in a row. Amazing how much one gets quizzed by people as to why we chose Florida to get married.
February 6th came, it was time to get married. Rachel and Tom were there, she handed me a large box before we went in.
She said it was not right that I did not have a bouquet so she went and had a gorgeous one made up for my special day. I actually got teary by her thoughtfulness. Astonished by my lack of nervousness, I went into the court house, stood there, we said our “I do’s” and left for Rachel’s home afterwards.
To my surprise, she had decorated her home with flowers and streamers. On a table off to the side was a wedding cake. The next thing we knew we were being herded over to the fireplace and she was taking pictures. It was a wonderful day, a day that was to be the start of my new life with my new husband.
After things settled down, Rachel asked if we wanted to move into their home since they knew our situation and they had a spare room. Naturally we jumped at this offer. We would not have to pay rent and the only thing they requested was that we share in the household chores and I would cook some of the meals. Admittedly, I spent more time in the back yard tanning than anything else.
I was 18 and living in Florida, this was like a vacation for me.
We remained in Florida for three months. It would have been longer, but apparently someone called the authorities when we were discovered trying to find work. We were ordered to leave.
With little money in our pockets, not even enough to fly back we ended up on a bus to Saskatchewan. This was the worse trip I have even been on. Imagine five straight days on a bus with noisy kids, the smell of stinky feet, weird food smells, and one washroom for 45 people. As we neared the North Dakota border crossing we were told to hand our ID over to the bus driver, who would in turn hand them to the Border Guards.
The guards came on the bus and called out some names of people to come off. Of course both Remo’s name and mine were called.
They pulled our luggage off the bus and escorted us into the building. Nervous as all heck as to why we were being centered out, I started wondering if my new husband had things in his past that I was not aware of.
Into separate rooms we went with all our belongings. They sat me down, asked me a thousand questions. Why I was in Florida, and why I was there for so long. If I lived in Edmonton why was I coming to Saskatchewan? Remo was in a different room, being interrogated with the same questions. They went through all of our suitcases and bags. I had a teddy bear that Remo gave me while in Florida and I had to sit there while they cut it open and pulled out all of the stuffing. My poor bear was definitely dead now. No need to even think about bringing him home with us.
After about an hour the guards released us. The was us waiting for everyone to return, we gave the driver our bags and ventured back onto the bus. Not saying a word about what happened, figuring that it turned out okay since both of us were released.
A few hours later, we were in Regina. Now what?
Remo had a cousin that lived there, so he called Sal and asked if we could stay with him for a few days while we sorted out what we were going to do next.
We found an apartment; Sal and Lucy paid the first and last month rent for us. I found work as a waitress in a pizza parlor and Remo as a waiter in a different restaurant.
Remo had a very good job when I met him. He had been laid off and when he was called to come back he declined. All this time he knew he could have returned to Edmonton to make some decent money. For whatever reason, he chose to keep this fact from me.
Luckily though, we both liked our jobs and we were getting by financially. We did owe Sal a debt of gratitude since he and his wife helped furnish our apartment with spare things they had, and they loaned us a car to get around with too.
Things were starting to look up now and I was happy with my life. We worked hard, long hours. We also had a new social life for the first time. I really felt I was on the right path.
We spent about three months in Regina. However, the longer we stayed the worse it became. The wind and sand storms were ridiculous. My window sills were filled with about a half inch of sand every morning when I woke up. We had constant grit in our mouths every time we went outside in these storms. Not to mention finding people sleeping in the back seat of our car all the time.
Enough was enough, it was time to swallow our pride and go back to Edmonton. I missed my family even though they probably didn't miss me and I knew he was missing his. We sold all of our belongings to be able to afford two one way train tickets to Edmonton. And again, off we went.
Remo contacted his family and told them we were coming back to Edmonton and they sent his older brother to meet us at the train station. We loaded up our belongings into his Camaro, which was no easy feat, and we were on our way to his parent’s home.
Once there, we were greeted on the veranda by all his family, including his grandmother. They were full of weird smiles, as I know they were not sure about me, and what I caused to their family in their eyes.
His grandmother walked up to me, spoke some Italian words while holding my face, then WHAM, she slapped me across the face and started yelling in Italian at me.
Thank you for your continued support. Hope you enjoy all you have read so far. :)
Chapter 3 - Part 3 continues tomorrow...
For those who missed the beginning, you can read it here: https://steemit.com/writing/@feline1991/a-steemit-original-a-lifetime-of-seeking-happiness-part-1