Later that day, Valorie found herself back in the old home that she had been raised in. Hardly more than a one-room cabin, the small structure had been affectionately called the Shack by Valorie and Pa. Or rather, Valorie had called it the Shack, and Pa had simply followed her lead.
The old wooden door creaked as Valorie pushed it open and stepped inside. She pulled in her suitcase, stood it up against the wall, and set her shoulder bag down next to it before walking over to the table to light the oil lamp sitting on it. Then she went to the windows and opened the shades to allow the last bit of sunlight of the day to come in. She traced her hand across the backs of the wooden chairs and looked across the room to the corner that Pa had claimed as his “room.” There was a small bed with a quilt neatly covering it and a dresser sitting to its side; both of which, like most of the furniture in the house, Pa had made by hand.
Valorie forced herself to look away from the empty bed and walked across the room and through a door into the only other room in the house, dragging her luggage in with her. It was a small room that contained another bed, chest of drawers, and a night table beside the bed that held an oil lamp. This was Valorie’s room. Technically, it was a lean-to addition that Pa had added after Valorie had grown too big to sleep in the child-sized bed that he had made for her originally. It was quite small, but Pa had felt that Valorie deserved a private space that she could call her own. Truth be told, Valorie spent little time in it because her and Pa were inseparable.
Valorie set her luggage on the bed and began the process of transferring her clothes to the chest of drawers. Despite not knowing how long she would be staying here, she still felt the need to settle in. After placing her clothing into the drawers, Valorie set the suitcase to the side of the room and sat on the edge of the bed facing the only window in the room. In a daze, she watched the swaying of the pine trees on one side and the crashing of the waves along the rocky coast on the other.
Valorie’s stomach growled, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten anything since her hurried breakfast that morning before she had begun the long drive from the city with the closest airport to Cape Town. She stood and walked into the main room and scanned the shelf of canned goods. There wasn’t much to choose from, and nothing really caught her eye. She knew there would be more food in the root cellar, but her tiredness far outweighed her motivation to go outside, into the root cellar, look for some preserved produce or frozen fish, and go through the effort of preparing it. She had been living in the city for so long that she had become spoiled by the luxury of ready-to-eat meals.
She turned away from the shelf with a sigh. Maybe I have a snack in my bag I can eat, she thought. She went back to her room but ended up lying down on her bed and staring at the ceiling above her. Fatigue from the day washed over her like a wave, and she decided to forgo eating in favor of going to bed. It had been a long day, and with everything that she was dealing with, her need to eat was not on the top of her list of concerns.
Valorie rose from her bed and went back to the main room to extinguish the lamp on the table. She reached out to lower the wick but paused as she noticed something sticking out from underneath the lamp. She slid the lamp to the side and revealed the letter it had been holding in place. Valorie pulled the letter out and flipped it over in her hands. In Pa’s characteristic handwriting, her name and the address that she had been staying at in the city was written across the front of it. Valorie untucked the opening of the envelope and pulled a sheet of paper out of it.
She had gotten no further than reading “Dear Valorie” on the top of the letter when a knock at the door startled her, causing her to drop the letter. Instinctively, her heart beat faster as she gathered the fallen envelope and letter and placed them on the table. No one had ever come to visit Pa and Valorie all the years she had lived here. She began to question whether she had really heard a knock at the door or if perhaps an overgrown tree branch had knocked against the side of the house.
A second knock at the door proved that she had indeed heard someone knocking.
Valorie stepped to the door and pushed back the curtain covering the small window of the door to see who was outside.
Is that… Mrs. Meyers’ son?
She opened the door. “Hello? You’re-um-Adam, Mrs. Meyers’ son, right?”
He glanced down at the ground awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Adan.”
“Oh, sorry. Adan.” Valorie said, hoping to confirm that she had said it right.
He nodded and held out his arms, offering an object wrapped in a towel to her. “Mom cooked extra for dinner and figured that maybe you could use some. She said it should still be warm enough to eat, but you might have to heat it up if you want it to be hot.”
“Oh, thank you!” Valorie took it and looked down at it in her hands. She pulled back a corner of the towel to peek at the glass container inside.
Adan stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s a casserole. Mom said there probably is enough for more than one meal, so just eat it at your own pace and return the glassware whenever you’re done.”
Valorie replaced the towel and smiled. “Tell your mom ‘thank you’ for me; this is very generous of her. And thank you for coming all the way out here to deliver it.”
Adan shrugged and looked off to the side. “I’ll tell her. And it wasn’t much trouble, so don’t worry about it. I enjoy every excuse to go for a ride.”
Valorie glanced over at the road and noticed an old motorcycle resting on its kickstand. She was surprised that she hadn’t heard it coming but realized that the wind had probably disguised the sound of it.
“Thank you just the same. I won’t keep you out here in the wind any longer, and I’m sure your mom would want you home before it gets any darker.”
Adan had a sort of funny look on his face when she said that, but he just nodded. He turned to walk away but looked back over his shoulder at her. “I think Mom put the number for our store on a sticky note on the glassware. She’d be more than happy to help you out if you need it, so call anytime.” He took another step but then stilled. Without turning around, he said, “And I’m sorry for your loss.”
Valorie looked down at the wrapped dish in her hands. “Thanks.”
Adan walked away across the grass toward his motorcycle, and Valorie stepped back inside the Shack, shutting the door behind her.
She placed the casserole on the table and unwrapped it, finding the note that Adan had mentioned stuck on the lid of the glassware. She pulled it off and laid it to the side on the table. She opened the glassware and took in a deep breath of the savory smell of the casserole. She retrieved a fork and ate a few bites of it. It was good, but Valorie still wasn’t really in the mind frame to eat, so she only ate enough to curb her hunger before packing the rest into an icebox.
Remembering what she was doing before Adan had arrived, Valorie blew out the lamp on the table and returned to her room to read the letter she had found. She took the letter and sat on the edge of her bed near the lamp on the nightstand to read it.
Dear Valorie,
It’s been years since you left Cape Town and moved in with my cousin and her family, but I still miss you as much as the day you left. Not that I’m writing to tell you to come back. I was happy to hear in your last letter that you got into a college. I’m sorry that your education had to wait because you didn’t have your birth papers, but I’m glad that you’ve been able to get that now. I can’t help but worry that I’ve kept you from a normal life in more ways than one.
I know in the past I’ve asked you to find some time, if possible, to come visit your old man, but I don’t think now is the time for you to return to Cape Town. Someone actually came to the shack recently and asked about you. I’m worried that getting your official papers stirred something up. It might be best if you stay in the city for now.
I thought of your sweet mother the other day. I wish I could tell you more about her, but I should respect her wishes. Maybe it’d be better if you knew everything I know, but I’m not going to break my promise to your mother just to satisfy the feelings of an old man such as myself. To be frank, there isn’t much I know that you don’t already.
I must be growing sentimental in my old age. I should stop speaking of the past. It does me no good.
How have you been, my dear little girl? I know you’re an adult now, but you will always be my little girl. I hope you’re doing well and remain steadfast in whatever course God sends you.
Your Pa.
Valorie laid the letter on her lap and took a long, shaky breath. She had exchanged letters with Pa ever since she had moved out years ago. He must have written this one with the intention of sending it to her soon, but his death had prevented him from mailing it to her.
Emotions swelled up in her. There was an ache in her heart as she thought about how she had never made the trip back to visit him and now would never get the chance to see him again. But along with the regret and grief over her loss which had only begun to feel real, Valorie felt questions rising. Pa had always been honest about how he had raised her for a woman he could never name, and as a kid it rarely bothered her. Pa was the only family that she needed; she had no reason to worry about some distant family that hadn’t been able to care for her.
As she became an adult, however, and began the process of gaining a delayed birth certificate so she could go to college and get a job, she was forced to wonder about the identity of her parents and their reason for giving her away in such a secret manner. This letter caused all the questions to surface once again.
She looked down at the letter in her hands. “‘Your sweet mother…’” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Who are you? What kind of ‘sweet mother’ would just give their daughter away without giving her so much as a name to be remember by?”
An owl hooted not far from the house, and Valorie noted that the wind had died down now that the sun had set. She laid the letter on the nightstand, and with a puff of air blew out the lamp, sent the room into darkness except for the light of moon streaming through the window. She crawled under the covers without bothering to put on her pajamas and curled up into a ball with the quilt tucked under her chin.
The weight of the events of the day had settled on Valorie, leaving her drained both physically and emotionally. She decided that the questions could wait for another day when she would be ready to face whatever answers they might reveal.
Chapter One: End
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