Unwed 💍

Chapter Ten: Jailhouse Rock

Los Angeles, California, a week earlier...

"He invited us to his cabin!" Gene struggled to cram his guitar case into the trunk of the taxi, his plump face glowing with excitement. "He liked it! He wouldn't have asked us if he didn't like it!"

Wes Rizzo's lips curled as he shot his friend a sideways glance. "He might just want to get rid of us up there in the woods. How many times have we showed up here, hoping to be seen? Ten? Twenty? He's probably thinking it's the only way to get rid of us."

"He was tryin' real hard not to show it, but he was digging it," gushed Hank, the drummer, skirting around the cab and flinging the door open. A car blared its horn, narrowly missing it. Unshaken, Hank hopped in the taxi. "Hollywood here we come! Marilyn Monroe, save a seat for me, baby!"

"We have to survive Michigan first," Wes mumbled, crawling into the cab after him.

He was trying to be as nonchalant as possible for the guys' sake. He didn't want to get their hopes up. They'd played so many gigs, auditioned so many times. Yet, inside he wanted to scream with excitement. He stared at the record company sign until it faded away behind them. SunRay Studios—this could be it—their big break.

***

St. Mary's Home for Unwed Mothers

"Enough! The girl is a liar," Sister Mary Helen seethed, her fist coming down on the table. The hollow thud shook the room. "How dare you even speak such treacherous gossip inside these walls! The devil is at work here. You must repent, or you will surely burn in hell!"

"She's only thirteen years old." Izzy pressed on, despite the frightening chill that was spreading up her back. "She's never even had a boyfriend. This is wrong, Sister. You can't allow her to return back to that—that monster. This should be reported to the police, it's a crime!"

Sister Mary Helen stood up, her face blotched with anger. "Did I not say enough! Dottie's father is an esteemed member of St. Augustine Church! The very thought of this nonsense is obscene and quite devious on Dottie's part. Wouldn't it be easy if you could all blame your flagrant deeds on someone else." She threw Izzy a disgusted look. "Leave these quarters at once!"

Izzy turned and fled the nun's quarters, her face hot, but hands frozen with a mix of anger and fear. No one was going to believe Dottie. The injustice of it all made her so upset, she found tears streaming down her face as she raced back up the staircase. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. She wasn't afraid of hell. St. Mary's Home for Unwed Mothers was hell on earth.

Suddenly out of breath, she leaned on the large stone window sill at the top of the stairs. A small bird, perhaps a sparrow, landed on the ledge just at that moment. It peered in at her, black eyes shining. What I wouldn't give to grow wings and fly away, she thought to herself.

Cocking its head, the sparrow pecked the window pane once, as if it had no fear of humans at all. Izzy smiled despite herself, pressing her finger to the window where its beak had been. The little bird spread its wings and dove into the trees, then soared to the vast lake beyond.

She breathed in deep as her eyes took in the beauty of the shimmering lake. A frantic thought crossed her mind. She needed to get out. She bit her lip, eyes on the horizon, studying the little islands that spread across the lake. She'd run away—take Dottie with her. They'd live on the island, she'd get a job somewhere—or maybe live off the land. Like a book she'd once read, The Swiss Family Robinson, a family who was shipwrecked on an island and build a home there in the trees.

An abrupt kick inside her stomach crumpled her train of thought. And raise two babies? Without any money or support? Her heart dropped and her throat tightened with despair. She was stuck there. There was no way out.