Protecting Kendra

Chapter 9 - Kendra

Margaret’s house is absolutely beautiful. It reminds me of a summer lake house. It is two stories with a balcony that has steps on the side leading down to the river. I imagine kids running around while the parents are grilling and socializing. I wondered what it is like here at night. I bet the sight of the stars and the sound of nature is mesmerizing. I took a steadying breath and opened my door to get out. Paxton waited at the hood to walk alongside me to the front door. As soon as we reached it I pressed the doorbell. I did not want to give myself a second to overthink and become anxious again.

It didn’t take long for the door to open. “Hello, are you Margaret?” I asked with a small smile. “Yes, that's me. You two must be the ones working on the article.” She replied and then looked for confirmation. Once we nodded our heads and said yes, she continued on. “Well come on inside.” She turned and gestured us to follow. Once inside, we turned left to enter the dining room. The house has the original wood flooring that creaks when you walk. Paxton and I took the seats across from Margaret at the table. Our seats provided us with a nice view of the river outside the window. "Thank you for agreeing to meet us so quickly." I said after placing my notepad and pen on the table." This is the first time I really got a good look at her. Her eyes are dark and sunken in. I'm sure she has barely slept since she found the news. "I should be thanking you for your help. I'm sure the news would have gone silent soon without it." Her words sounded emotionless. Her daughter's disappearance has drained her so much she's barely existing.

“I want to incorporate who Kendra was as a daughter and a friend. My hope is for every reader to be able to attach her to someone special in their life. We’ll be sure to have constant eyes out there if they do.” Margaret slowly nodded her head before she replied. “What would you like to know?” Her eyes were on me waiting for the first question. "When you think of Emily, what are the memories that stick out the most?" The corner of her mouth lifted slightly as a memory filled her mind. It must be one she thinks of often if it popped up that quickly. "One of my favorite memories was when she was a little girl. She must have been 9 years old at the time. We were on the way to visit my sister and decided to stop to eat a sandwich. I pulled over at the next rest stop, and we piled out to grab the food. We were about halfway through eating when a fly landed on her arm. She instinctively swatted the pesky thing away. It wasn't until she yelled that I realized that it was actually a honey bee." Margaret paused a second to take a breath. "She'd never been stung before, so I panicked. I raced around the table to take a look at her arm, but she was already up and running towards the car. When I finally reached her, she was curled up in the front seat of the car crying. I tried to soothe her but nothing was working. I felt awful. It wasn't until she spoke that I could no longer hold my tears back. The only thing she said was, 'It's not okay. I should have looked at what landed on me. Now the bee is going to die.' She never lost that part of her. No matter what pain she's endured, she was always thinking of others." There's a pain in the back of my throat in attempt to hold my emotions at bay. I can't help but wonder if this part of her is still there. If it's not, I wonder if she'll ever be able to get it back.

I grabbed a napkin from the middle of the table and offered it to Margaret. "She sounds like a lovely person. Her boss and coworker said similar things about her kindness. I can tell you did a great job of raising her." I thought saying this would bring her a small amount of happiness, but it seemed to do the exact opposite. All the warmth that flowed through her while telling the story evaporated. Her eyes turned down as if she could see through the table. They did not move as she spoke. "When you become a mother, you long to hear those words one day. It's the greatest compliment you can receive until a reality like this is known. The truth is that qualities such as love and empathy are the very ones that make you vulnerable to evil in the world." The intensity of her words are so strong that I feel the emotions as if they were my own. I search for words to help, but I am at a loss. What can you possibly tell a mother in this situation? I nudged Paxton's leg with my knee a few times to let him know that I needed help. He moved his hand under the table to steady my leg. His hand did not move as he spoke. "You did right to raise your daughter to show love and empathy for others. These characteristics are why good things still exist in this world, why hope is still alive. It's a shame they are starting to be out numbered, but the problem would be far worse if they stopped existing all together." A tear escaped her eyes as she managed a small nod. I felt Paxton's hand squeeze my knee twice. I knew he was silently asking if I was okay to jump back in. I maneuvered my hand on top of his and mimicked his two squeezes to let him know that I was good.

“What can you tell us about some of her later years? What was school life like for her?” I know everyone has had their character tested in high school. I had an English teacher tell my class that we were getting ready for adulthood in more ways than academics. She said to not only focus on what we will choose to do, but who we choose to be as well. It was evident after graduation who chose to listen to that advice. Margaret finally looked up as she replied, “She was a great student. She loved learning so much that it was hard to pull her away from her textbook. I don't know where she got that from. Her father and I could not wait to graduate, so we didn't have to study anymore. She did have a friend, Savannah, that was the same way. While other kids were trying to sneak into parties, they were there quizzing each other. They even made a game out of it. They each created flash cards with questions they thought were difficult. Whoever got the most questions wrong, lost." She made a small laughing sound as she sniffed.

"Are they still close now?" I didn't see her name anywhere, but maybe I could fit in one more interview. That idea quickly vanished. "No. The two had a falling out on a trip they went on together after their first year of college. I'm not sure what it was about, but they never spoke again. Emily didn't want to talk about it, so I left it alone. Savannah moved away shortly after. After that, she spent extra time studying and volunteering to tutor others. I think that's when she developed the love of helping others out. She loved seeing other's expressions when something they struggled with finally clicked. She would rave about it to me each time. Others noticed her true passion for it too. She received many awards for her volunteer work. Would you like to see them?" I saw pride showing through her eyes, showing the pain. "Absolutely! I would love to see them." Margaret stands and tilts her head for us to follow her. She leads us upstairs and opens a door to a room that I instantly realize used to belong to Emily. It was decorated similar to my room in high school, minus the posters on the wall of popular boy bands. I walked over to the dresser that displayed plagues and metals with Emily's name on it. There are so many of them that they barely fit without falling over the edge. "Would it be okay if I took some pictures?" I turned to ask Margaret. "Of course." I grabbed my phone from my pocket and silently cursed myself for not upgrading to the new phone with better pixels. I take an up-close picture of each one individually and then one as a whole. "This is truly incredible," Paxton says as he walks to get a closer look. His eyes are focused on the frame in the middle that holds a newspaper article. "Is this Savannah the friend that you were mentioning?" I take a second look while Paxton turns to face Margaret. I didn't even realize the words cut off at the bottom to fit the frame. You can barely see the top of the "S" where I believe names are being listed. He really does have a good eye.

"Yes, that would be her," Margaret replied right before her cell phone began to ring. "Sorry about that. It's my friend probably wanting to check in on me." She quickly declined and barely had it back in her pocket when it began to ring again. "Well, they sure are persistent aren't they?" She starts to take the phone out again. "It's no worries at all. I think we have a good base to start on. You should answer. We'll call back later if we can think of anything else. I really do appreciate your time." Margaret thanked us as we started to make our way back downstairs to gather our things. We quickly say our goodbyes at the front door, so she can call her friend back. I can tell she was eager to speak to them. "I think that we collected a lot to write about her character so far. It sounds like it was really hard not to like her. I really want to know what the falling out was with her friend. I should have asked for her last name to look her up." I bit my bottom lip, frustrated that something so simple did not cross my mind. "Well, we are talking to her roommates next. They sound really close, so I'm sure that they will have some more answers for you on the matter." I nodded as I wrote Paxton's words down at the top of the next page in my notepad to ensure that I didn't forget. This last interview is the one I have the highest hopes for. I sure hope it follows through. I put fasten my seatbelt and turn to Paxton. "Let's go find out."