As I find myself stepping out of the cab, the first thing I notice about my new home is the smell of lilacs and maple trees in the middle of a nice warm, relaxing Summer. I inhale deeply and recall the reason I had to move my family to the other side of the country. I sober immediately. My wife, Christal, is 7 months pregnant with triplets and as she progresses, things only become more difficult. She’s struggling with this pregnancy more than the previous one when she was pregnant with our 4 year old son, Dustin. Moving so late into the pregnancy has stressed her out and for that I am deeply sorry to her, but I know our move was a good one.
You see, Christal had a pretty troubled past. She doesn't talk much about it, but one time and one time only, she told me all about it. Everything was normal for her up until the age of 9. Her father came home one night in a drunken stupor and beat her mother. He never touched Christal that night, but then again that wasn't the only night he came home drunk. One night when Christal was 13, her father came home with a “friend.” This “friend” was only concerned about what he was getting out of everything and did nothing when Christal started screaming. Let’s just say things were not pretty. Christal ran away that night and never returned to her home back in Bridgeport. Bridgeport wasn't a very happy place considering the fact that it was an unpleasant place where pimps and gangs all ruled the alleys, backstreets, and buildings if you happened to find yourself living on the wrong side of town.
You see, Christal had a pretty troubled past. She doesn't talk much about it, but one time and one time only, she told me all about it. Everything was normal for her up until the age of 9. Her father came home one night in a drunken stupor and beat her mother. He never touched Christal that night, but then again that wasn't the only night he came home drunk. One night when Christal was 13, her father came home with a “friend.” This “friend” was only concerned about what he was getting out of everything and did nothing when Christal started screaming. Let’s just say things were not pretty. Christal ran away that night and never returned to her home back in Bridgeport. Bridgeport wasn't a very happy place considering the fact that it was an unpleasant place where pimps and gangs all ruled the alleys, backstreets, and buildings if you happened to find yourself living on the wrong side of town.
I suppose now is as good a time as ever to introduce myself. Hi. I’m Dennison Trevor Adams. I’m in the Army and I graduated boot camp at the top of my class. I grew up in Sunset Valley where you had to watch everything you said or did because the whole town would know if anything deemed scandalous happened. After graduating from boot camp the Army moved me to an extremely sleepy and boring town called Twinbrook named after it’s… twin brooks, duh. I was more of the kind of guy looking for a fun time somewhere other than sitting at home playing Xbox. I knew of a place with upscale casinos and restaurants that I wanted to check out.
The establishment I found myself in the very next weekend was called the Wishing Well Casino, located on the outskirts of Lucky Palms. On the day I ventured in here I never expected what would happen next. One moment I was sitting at my table drinking a whiskey, the next a gorgeous auburn brunette was practically falling into the seat in front of me. She sat up, frightened, and said, “Sorry for intruding.”
“No problem,” I said, sipping on my whiskey now. “Anything I could help you with?” I asked concerned for her safety even though I knew nothing about her.
“Ah. If it wouldn't be a problem, could you maybe get me out of here? I’m scared that someone might have recognized me.” I put my hand in front of her lips indicating she didn't have to say anymore.
“Ah. If it wouldn't be a problem, could you maybe get me out of here? I’m scared that someone might have recognized me.” I put my hand in front of her lips indicating she didn't have to say anymore.
“Sure. Let’s go.” I stood, grabbed my jacket and waited for her to do the same. I couldn't help but notice the blush working it’s way from her cheeks to her ears and neck. I could tell she was embarrassed about the situation she found herself in. I tried to ease her mind by asking her name and she replied with a simple, yet barely heard “Christal.”
“Well, Christal, my name is Dennison.” I smiled and held out my hand. She took it and smiled back.
I didn't know it then but in that moment I knew I was going to help this woman no matter the costs.
