“Basically, I was a glorified Home Economics teacher,” Willow said to Raphael. “I traveled throughout the Midwest teaching young women the art of caring for the family home. My specialty was the use of simple crafting to generate butter and egg money.”
“Simple crafting, what does that mean?” Raphael asked.
“Sewing, glue gun, and glitter, plus how to get all the dinner items on the table at the same time, balancing the household budget, that kind of thing,” she replied. “I was like a black June Cleaver.”
“And your sister, Flower?”
“She was a confused young woman who wanted our father to take care of her forever. So, she sought out a father figure, whom I’m still convinced took her life,” Willow said in a hushed tone. “Hymn is a charming man with a black heart. I also firmly believe that the two in the back seat are his children, but there is no way to tell without DNA testing.”
Raphael listened to what she was saying, yet not saying. “How did you end up at the compound?”
“Once I got word, two years later, that she was trying to reach me, it was 2012. The compound is very secretive and very few know of its location, so I traveled to Louisville and started asking questions and hoping to find Flower,” she said solemnly. “Hymn got word that Flower’s sister was asking questions, so he did the research on me and booked me to come teach at the compound, even paid my speaking fee up front.”
“And you went to the compound,” Raphael said, exhaling deeply.
“No, I was escorted to the commune with my traveling trailer of teaching goods,” she said chuckling. “I don’t care for hotel rooms so I traveled the roads in my camper. The same camper became my prison for six years.”
“I’m so sorry to hear this.”
“Don’t be. Hymn had a job for me and that was looking after those two. They were by my side at all times,” she replied, looking in the backseat, “well, with the exception of two days ago. I was out of my mind with worry.”
“How did she get away from you and end up with that Mongoloid Theodore?”
“You know Theodore?”
“No, I ran into him at a rest stop. His dog was barking at the bushes, which let me know someone was hiding in there, so I moved my truck over and distracted Theodore so whoever was in the bushes could slip inside,” Raphael said.
“Smart move and Karli is a smart girl. I taught her to know what to look for, the right things to say, and to read men’s eyes,” Willow said. “Kindred Seoul is his name. He’s the second in command and jockeying for position.”
“He’s the one who sent that child on date night?” Raphael asked, thinking of ways to terminate the man’s employment at the commune.
“He lied and said Hymn wanted to see the girl. I usually go with her, but...I dunno what happened. It was all a blur. Then she was gone,” she said, looking in the backseat and smiling. Willow lowered her voice, “I think she may be my sister’s child, which is why I never left. Six years I stayed there taking care of her and Dusty, hoping that one day we could get away, and you showed up, and I am forever thankful.”
“What makes you thinks she’s Flower’s child?”
“There were no other Black women at the commune when I arrived. The age would fit the timeline, and she’s the only bi-racial child there,” Willow said.
“You disappeared off the face of the earth and no one missed you? I find that hard to believe,” Raphael inquired.
“Believe it. After our father died, and he kept such a tight rein on both of us, the freedom to just go, hit the road, and not look back was liberating. That’s why I didn’t look for Flower at first, because I too was free, well for a short time, and then ended up being back in a different kind of prison,” she said, looking at him. “Mr. Hoyt, I will not be locked up again, so if that is your plan, I’m going to let you know right now, it won’t work.”
Raphael asked her to open the center console. There were several disposable phones. He suggested she pick one.
“And what am I supposed to do with this?” Willow asked.
“You now have a cell phone and can call for help anytime you wish to. If you want me to drop you and the girls off at the nearest police station, I can do that as well. This is not obligatory on my part, but you taught Karli well. I have given her a nickname and kissed her forehead, and she calls me Daddy, so technically, she’s kinda mine,” he said chuckling.
Dusty Rose sat forward in the seat, “Daddy, when we stop, will you kiss my forehead and give me a pet name, too?”
“Sure thing, Punkin’ Puss,” he said, laughing at the ludicrousness of the whole scenario. His eyes cut to Willow.
She shook her head no. “I don’t ever need a pet name from you, just to let you know. I’m telling you up front.”
“You certain? I don’t want you to feel left out,” he said, allowing the chuckle to rumble deep in his throat.
“Honestly, you don’t look like you have a sense of humor,” Willow quipped. “You remind me of one of those hitmen in the movies. The weary anti-hero comes home from a day of philanthropic deeds and you’re sitting in his study with a Barretta in your hand, saying, ‘It’s time to die Mr. Bond.’”
Raphael squinted, looking at the road then glancing over at her with a scowl. He didn’t like her attitude. He all but told her so, “Listen here, there are several things I never joke about and one is James Bond. Just make sure you are very clear on that, Ms. Willow Smarty Pants,” he said with a huff and puff as if he were going to blow her afro down.
“Oh, so I do get a nickname,” she said, finding her heart feeling lighter than it had in years. If Raphael Hoyt was trying to make her feel more comfortable, it was working, but she wasn’t letting her guard completely down. She did that once and ended up a captive. “Out of curiosity, what is it you do for a living, Mr. Hoyt?”
“I work in Human Resources,” he said with all honesty.
“You don’t seem to have the mannerisms for a HR Manager, unless you’re the person who handles difficult terminations,” she said, looking over at him using a mock managerial voice. “Oh, Mr. Wellington is going to make trouble for us. Someone please get Mr. Hoyt on the line. Then Mr. Wellington comes home and finds you in his study with your legs crossed holding a Barretta. Mr. Wellington, your promotion has been denied, and here’s your pink slip!”
Raphael didn’t find any bloody humor in it all. She sat there moving those luscious lips like Mr. Ed after getting a giant serving of peanut butter. The weird thing is that she was so on the money about him with the James Bond reference, which happened to be his favorite type of movie and favorite character ever, which the lady magically pulled out of midair. Sensing his discomfort, Willow got quiet.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be insensitive. I’ve been starved for conversation and witty repartee for six whole years. Outside of the kids, I pretty much lived in isolation from the other women except on the days when I had to teach or on laundry day,” Willow said. “Most of the women there have given up on life, were running away from something, or simply no longer cared to think for themselves. They were sheeple.”