Escape from the Ozarks

By Denisa Claris Cooke

This book is about Luella, a girl of fifteen or sixteen, who grew up in the back hills of the Arkansas Ozarks in very primitive conditions but after many difficulties was able to overcome her childhood and make a new and more modern, fulfilling life for herself. In the process of accomplishing this, she runs away from home, is caught, sent home, kidnapped, almost killed, and then forced to marry at sixteen. After several months of an unhappy marriage, her husband is murdered. Of course she is a suspect but does have an alibi. Luella survives through her faith in God, her desire and ambition to escape from the life of her parents, and through the help of family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512720891

Denisa Claris Cooke

Denisa Claris Cooke began writing religious fiction books at the age of seventy-eight as a hobby, which became an interesting second career. She is a retired teacher, mom, grandmother, and great-grandmother, who lives in Colorado on the Western Slope. Denisa wants the message to get out there that a person is never too old or disabled (within reason) to begin new adventures and learn new things. She believes that even if you must get old in body, your mind can stay young and productive. Denisa has written seven books, published five, and plans to keep going as long as possible.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The girl with the dark-blue backpack sat on the park bench and watched the neighborhood of homes. Hunched down into her gray parka with the hood thrown over her head, her age could not be distinguished from a distance. She was hungry, tired, dirty, and miserable. As several neighborhood boys walked by her on their way to the basketball court, they pointed at her and sneered and laughed. Her jeans and shoes were old and worn, and she was thin enough to be considered gaunt. One boy noticed that she was crying as they passed. He felt a little guilty, but he didn’t bother to check on her. The boys went to the court and started their game. The girl knew she couldn’t sit there much longer without attracting too much attention, and she definitely didn’t want that. Even here a cop car could drive past and notice her, and cops stop and ask questions. But she needed to wait a while longer, just until dark.

Then she was going to break the promise she’d made to her mama before she had left home: to be true to God, her faith in Him, and to herself and to remember the Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule. The girl was sitting there planning how to break and enter a home and steal, and that was not keeping her promise. She didn’t believe that breaking and entering and stealing was what God wanted of her, and it sure wasn’t keeping the faith. Though she felt guilty about it, her survival instincts took over.

This was the best area of this very small town—a village actually. It was quiet for the most part, and she supposed it was considered safe. She had learned in the past two months that small towns were the best places to find houses to sneak into for a short period. Most people in small towns felt safe and were trusting, often leaving their doors unlocked.

Fortunately, the weather was beautiful, in the seventies for a high temp, and it was dry. A few lazy clouds floated in the sky, and there was a cool breeze—a perfect day for someone who was homeless.

Since it was late spring, surely someone in this neighborhood was on vacation. All Luella had to do was watch and wait. She saw one house down toward the end of a block that didn’t have a car outside anywhere and didn’t seem to have any activity around it. That looked like a promising possibility, but now she would need to wait until the boys left.

The boys finally tired of their game and wandered off down the street, giving her the once-over on the way. She was glad they left and she was alone once again. Since her experiences in the parks in Cañon City and Gunnison, she was really afraid of boys and men.

While she had been waiting in Cañon City to catch a ride, a guy on a motorcycle had come along and offered to drive her to the next town. He’d introduced himself and told her he was going to Gunnison, where he attended college. He looked and sounded okay, so she accepted the ride. He was nice and everything was fine until they arrived at the park in Gunnison. As she started to get off the bike, he took hold of her arm and asked her, Hey, you’re hungry, aren’t you, and tired? Come on up to my dorm room, and I’ll get you something to eat. Then you can shower and rest before you try to find another ride.

Since he had been decent so far and she was so very inexperienced and naïve, she went with him. He made a sandwich for her. After she ate, she took a shower and dressed. Just as she came out of the shower, once again in her old jeans and parka, he grabbed her and dragged her to the bed. Then she saw all he had on was his underwear, so she knew—he intended to breed with her. She hadn’t yet learned the word rape. But since she had grown up on a farm and watched the animals, and since she had read quite a bit, she knew what he wanted of her. She had also learned a few self-defense tricks on the farm from her papa and brother. She lay on her back on the bed and let the boy undo her jeans and pull them down, but when he started to get on top of her she brought her knee up hard between his legs. He howled, grabbed the damaged part, and rolled to the side. She jumped off the bed, pulled up her jeans, grabbed her backpack, and fled. She ran out of the building as quickly as possible. A McDonald’s restaurant was just across the street, so she ran there and went in to the restroom and hid in a stall. She didn’t know how long she could stay there but hoped it would be long enough for the boy to think that she had caught another ride and traveled on her way. She spent what felt like several hours there and then quietly emerged and walked out of the restaurant behind a group of college kids.

Since the boy wasn’t anywhere in sight, she made her way down the street to the bus stop. There she used the last of her money for a ticket to Montrose and then was finally on her way. She didn’t know what she would do when she reached Montrose, but she was confident God would help her think of something.

She asked people on the bus if any of them were traveling on to someplace farther and, if so, if she could catch a ride with them. An older couple told her they were going just ten miles north from Montrose but said she could ride with them. They had left their car in Montrose, since the bus didn’t make a stop in their small town. Montrose was a rather large town, and Luella wanted to go to a smaller one. She’d had some bad experiences in the larger towns. They had arrived in this little town just after noontime. The couple let her out, and she had found the park.

Now she was so hungry and tired, she was miserable. Wish I had some cake, she thought. Mama always said when you are feeling down-and-out, eat a piece of cake and you’ll feel lots better. Well, I don’t have any cake—or anything else, for that matter—so all I can do is watch to see for sure that the people who live in the pretty blue house down the street are gone. She knew what she was planning was wrong, but she wanted to live. She just hoped that God would forgive and understand.

She kept watch. Before long, toward nightfall, a small, older red truck drove up to the house and parked. A woman got out and went around to the back of the house. She stayed in the house for a short while and then came back around to her truck and drove off.

Good, Luella thought. The owners must be gone, and evidently they have a dog or cat that needed fed. I’ll go check it out quietly. She rose to her feet, hefted her backpack onto her back, and slowly, almost silently, trudged down the street to the house, making sure to keep in the shadows. The house had a light on inside, but the shades were pulled. She walked on the grass to the side of the house and tried to see inside but could not. She decided to try the back of the house. As she walked down the driveway, her feet crunched on the gravel. She worried that someone might hear her. No one did. A large patio with a sliding glass door came into view at the back of the house. As she approached it, a dog started to bark. She could tell it was a small dog by the high pitch of its bark.

Should she chance it? She had to try—she was so hungry and dirty and tired; she just had to try. She grabbed the door handle and pulled. It opened. The dog continued to bark but didn’t charge her. She started to talk to it. Hey there, little one, don’t be afraid. Are you all alone here? Come on. See, I won’t hurt you.

The little white dog came to her, and she bent down to pet it. It was friendly and licked her hand and wagged its tail, so she felt safe. Okay, little one, I’m going to stay with you for a little while. Looks like you have plenty to eat and drink, so you just go back to sleep. I’ll try to be very quiet.

As she approached the doorway to the room, she found a child gate across it, obviously to keep the dog in that room. She climbed over it and realized she was in the kitchen. She was hungry, but she needed to get cleaned up before she ate. There was an interior bathroom, so she shut the door and risked turning on the light. She didn’t think the light would show from the outside of the house—not with the bathroom door closed and the bedroom drapes pulled. She turned on the shower to let the water get warm and then undressed. There was shampoo and body soap on a shelf in the shower. As she climbed into the shower, she saw her image in the bathroom mirror and was concerned that she had lost so much weight. She stood under the warm water. Wow, this feels so good. She washed her hair and scrubbed herself really clean and then cut the water off. She found a nice large towel, dried herself, and then wiped down the shower. After she got out, she took a glass from the counter and rinsed out the bottom of the shower. It looked as clean as when she had entered it.

A terry cloth robe was hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door, and she put it on. Cautiously, she cracked the door open. There was a night-light on in the hallway, so she turned off the bathroom light. She took her backpack, dirty clothing, and the wet towel and looked for the laundry room.

She found it at the back of the house. It had a window, so she couldn’t turn on the light. However, there was just enough moonlight for her to see the washer and dryer. She loaded the washer with all of the clothing from her backpack, the clothing she had just taken off, and the wet towel and set the machine on full load, cool wash, and cold rinse. The washer was easy to operate, and she soon had it going. She had learned to operate automatic washers and dryers as she had traveled. Above the dryer were several shelves. She noticed a sleeping bag on one and thought that it would be a good thing for her to have.

She returned to the bathroom, shut the door, and again turned on the light. She found a comb and combed her long, dark hair and then dried it with the hair dryer she found. Then she tied it back into a ponytail. She rubbed some lotion she found on the vanity into her legs and arms and face. Ah, this feels so wonderful, she thought. People don’t realize how wonderful the little things are, like a shower and lotion, until they don’t have them. She turned off the light and headed to the kitchen. It was quite dark there, but it did have a night-light.

She cracked open the refrigerator door and found the makings for a sandwich and some juice. She opened the refrigerator just far enough to get the things out of it. She didn’t want anyone noticing extra light coming from inside the house. She made a couple of sandwiches and took those and the bottle of juice to the island bar in the kitchen, perched on the bar stool, and ate and drank. Thank you, God, for this wonderful food, and please forgive me for stealing it. I’m so sorry that I need to do this, and I will make it up to these people when I can.

The food and juice were wonderfully satisfying, and the dog stayed quiet, which was fortunate. After she finished eating, she cleaned up the kitchen and put everything away. It didn’t look like anyone had been there at all. By now, her clothes were washed, and she put them in the dryer and then returned to the kitchen. She didn’t dare eat any more or she would get sick, but she did find several protein bars, a few apples, an orange, some chocolate bars, some cheese crackers, and a jar of peanut butter. These she loaded into the bottom of her backpack, along with a couple of bottles of water. This would make her backpack heavy, but she had to have food and water. She hated stealing, but she wanted to stay alive and didn’t know how else she was going to do that.

She sat at the bar stool and waited for her clothes to dry. She didn’t want to get too comfortable, as she was afraid she would fall asleep. She couldn’t do that here, because she did not know when the owners would return. When her clothing was dry, she redressed in her jeans and T-shirt, repacked her backpack, put the clean towel back in the bathroom, and made sure everything was as she had found it. She took a sheet of paper from the computer printer on the desk in the family room, found a pen in the desk drawer, and carefully wrote a note to the owners:

Dear owners of this very nice home, please thank God every day that you have a home and all that you need. I don’t, and so I was forced to enter your home and avail myself of your shower, washer and dryer, sleeping bag, and some food. I am so very sorry that I had to do that. Someday, when I again have a home and job, I will send some money to you to reimburse you. Your dog is very sweet. God be with you and bless you and keep you. Thank you for the use of your home and for the food.

She retrieved the sleeping bag from the top shelf in the laundry room. She left the note on the island in the kitchen, picked up her backpack, tied the sleeping bag to the top of it, climbed over the child gate, petted the dog, and quietly left the house the same way she had entered.

When she got to the front of the house, she copied down the address on a scrap of paper. Just then she saw a car at the end of the block coming her way, so she hurried to the other side of the street. Under the cover of the shadows of the trees, she rushed down the street. The car parked in the drive of the house that she had just left. The close call scared her, and she thanked God that she hadn’t been caught.

She went back to the park and walked toward the trees and park bench. Just as she realized she was rather obvious out in the open, she was grabbed from behind. A hand clamped over her mouth. She didn’t hesitate to use the defense tactics that she had learned, and she raised her left leg up and back and kicked as hard as she could. When the man let go of her, she swung around and, using all her strength, hit him with her backpack in his throat. He fell back and to the ground. Then she did what she had not thought she could ever do—she kicked him hard in the head. He lay unconscious, so she retrieved her backpack and ran.

She ran as far and fast for as long as she could until she finally had to stop. There were some thick bushes in front of a farmhouse at the edge of town, and she eased herself into them. They were scratchy, so she covered herself with her sleeping bag and edged even farther into the bushes. Exhausted, she fell asleep.

Noises from the farmhouse woke her early the next morning. I can’t stay here. I’ll need to move on to somewhere else, but where? I need to get out of this town someway. Guess I’ll walk down that road along the side toward the highway, and maybe, just maybe, I can get a ride with some nice couple or a woman. But then she spied a pickup truck in the farmhouse’s driveway.

Maybe, she thought, I could climb into the back of it without being seen and wait until someone comes out of the house and drives away in the truck.

She rolled the sleeping bag and retied it to her backpack and then crept crouched over to the truck. Peering into the back of it, she noticed a large toolbox across the back of the truck bed. Is there room for me to hide in there? She managed to climb into the truck and get the lid of the toolbox open. It was fairly full, but she took out a large box. It was heavy, and she struggled but got it out and put it beside the toolbox. It was difficult to be quiet while doing this, but she managed to do so. If no one looks very carefully into the back of this truck, I might get away with this.

She quietly and carefully opened the toolbox again and slipped into it. There wasn’t room for her backpack, so she had to leave it in the corner of the truck bed also. She lifted the lid of the toolbox just enough to let in a bit of air and light and then waited. Before long, she heard the garage door open. Someone came to the truck and entered the front seat and then started the engine. She thanked God that whoever it was hadn’t looked in the back of the truck. They were soon moving down the road.

She could see just enough out of the crack of the lid to know they were going away from town, which was fortunate. She really needed to get away from that town. She didn’t know whether the people of the home that she had robbed reported her deed to the police. If they had, the police would be looking for her. They seemed to travel quite a while before the truck pulled to a stop in front of a building. After the driver left the truck and went into the building, she gingerly lifted the lid of the toolbox a bit more. Since she didn’t see anyone around, she climbed out and rolled to the floor of the truck bed. She grabbed her backpack and crawled to the end of the truck. She still didn’t see anyone, so she hurriedly climbed over the truck’s tailgate and ran for the trees at the edge of the parking lot. So far, so good. But now what?

She was really frightened to hitchhike, but what else could she do? She walked along the edge of the highway. Before long, a pickup truck came by and stopped. An older man with white hair was driving it. He rolled down the window and ask her, Hey, little miss, what you doing out here all alone? Don’t you know that it is downright dangerous for you to be hitchhiking like this? You want a ride?

Well, I really need one. And you seem nice, so I guess. I know this is dangerous—I found that out the hard way—but I’m quite desperate and have to do it. You won’t hurt me, will you? Then she laughed. I guess you sure wouldn’t tell me that you would, even if you would, so I’ll just need to trust you. At least you stopped for me. Of course, another guy stopped for me not too long ago, and when we reached where he was going, he wanted a ‘thank-you’ that I wasn’t willing to give to him. I hope you won’t do that.

No, I sure won’t hurt you, little girl. Climb on in here, and let’s get you to a town where they have a bus station. Luella climbed into the truck and held her backpack on her lap and put the sleeping bag on the floor by her feet. She fastened her seat belt and then looked at the man. "I really appreciate that you stopped for me. I was scared half out of my wits to hitch a ride, but I had to