The River Calls

By Laura Knaresboro Spears

Barbara Evans is struck down after her first day of modeling on her dream job. Forced to a warm, dry environment to recuperate from surgery, she and her family go to the resort area at the Colorado River in Arizona.
There she meets with both disaster and a new romantic relationship with Jim Stevenson. She also meets a wonderful friend, Peter Gray, who has emotional problems.

The three young people form a bond of friendship, but also meet Jerome Dean, a mentally unbalanced man who wreaks havoc in their lives. A menace to society, he kidnaps Barbara and stabs one of Jims friends after failing to kill Jim by sabotaging his boat and trying to drown him and his two friends.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499042528

Laura Knaresboro Spears

Sharon L. Snyder and Laura Knaresboro Spears both live in Southern California, near San Diego. Both live with their respective families. When they first met and discovered they each had a passion for writing and travel, a friendship was formed that has lasted several decades. They have both been members of the San Diego Writers/Editors Guild.

Book preview

Prologue

Famished, ten year old Peter Gray opened one eye and gazed at the bowl of bean soup in the center of the table. His stomach growled as he noticed the bowl was only half full and wondered if there would be enough for all of them. Worried, he then looked at the plate of cornbread and wrinkled his nose, hoping his mother wouldn’t force him to eat any of it. His gaze darted to his mother to make sure she hadn’t caught him peeking. A smile crossed his lips when he noticed his head’s silhouette on the table in front of him. Daring to glance at the bare bulb hanging above the table, he kept his head bowed. Relieved that he hadn’t been caught, he squeezed his eye tightly shut.

Amen, Fern Gray said as she released her husband and sons’ hands.

Smells good, Sam Gray replied as he ladled beans into his bowl. Taking the plate of cornbread from his wife, he said, Pass the butter please.

Peter held his bowl out so his mother could scoop some bean soup into it. When she tried to give him the cornbread, he pulled his hands back.

Peter, you need to eat some cornbread, Fern said as she frowned. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun. Dark eyes flashing, she continued, You know I hate it when you disobey me.

Mom, can’t I just eat the beans? You know I hate cornbread. His face was contorted in a grimace. At ten years old, Peter was small for his age. With his mother’s black hair and his father’s hazel eyes, most people thought he was a good looking boy, but right now his face looked too distorted to seem handsome.

Son, just eat the cornbread. Make your mother happy for a change. Sam flashed him a stern look, his hazel eyes warning his son. Sam was a tall man with sandy colored hair. He had a gentle disposition which was in contrast to his wife’s. A farmer by trade, he worked long hours in his fields and did the best he could to take care of his family.

God wants you to keep your body fit and healthy, Fern said as she pushed the cornbread toward Peter.

Okay. Reluctantly, Peter took the small piece of cornbread and put it down by his bowl.

How’s school going, Peter? Sam asked as he shoveled a spoonful of beans into his mouth.

Fine, Dad. Peter didn’t want to talk; he wanted to eat his beans as fast as he could so he could take another helping.

Peter, slow down. Don’t eat like a glutton, Fern said as she touched him on the arm.

I’m sure worried about the crops, Sam said as he frowned at his wife, trying to distract her from Peter. They aren’t looking so good.

You should be used to that. Do we ever have a good crop? All we do is get further and further in debt. We keep getting behind in our payments because our crops aren’t good enough to sell. Fern slammed her spoon onto the table. What’s wrong now? We’ve had plenty of rain.

I think some kind of bug’s eating the plants. He looked at her and hoped for some understanding on her part.

Naturally. She glared at him. I wish I’d never seen this farm. I hate it. It’s never made a good living for us. Why couldn’t you have just gotten a job in town like most of the other men around here?

Farming is all I know, honey. He gave her a pleading look then glanced over at Peter. And I would like to leave something for my son.

Fern snorted as she rolled her eyes. Yeah, like instant poverty.

Peter’s eyes were large as he held his breath. He hated it when his mother spoke with that mean tone in her voice. As anger filled him, he reached for his glass of milk. Losing his grip, the glass slipped from his fingers and spilled all over the blue flowered tablecloth. His face instantly became a chalky white as he turned to look at his dad, then turned to Fern.

I’m sorry, Mom, I’m sorry. It was just an accident, he said as his hands started to nervously shake.

Fern tightened her lips, not saying anything as she got up.

Fern, he didn’t mean to do it. It just slipped out of his fingers. Sam started wiping up the milk with his napkin.

She ignored her husband as she grabbed Peter by the arm and yanked him out of his chair, and then dragged him across the floor into the living room.

As his mother pulled him along, he glanced around the sparsely furnished living room. He knew that old burn marks on the floor in front of the fireplace were covered by the thin green and yellow scatter rug. The family photos, taken when Peter was still a baby, adorned the carved mahogany mantle while a cheap painting on another wall covered a large crack in the plaster. Eerie shadows were dancing across the threadbare couch and illuminating a small spring sticking out of one corner. Peter had always hated this room. It reminded him of the poverty his mother had always talked about.

The fire burning in the old brick fireplace made the room feel too hot for Peter as he tried to resist his mother and pull away from her. Mommy, please don’t. I’m sorry. Please don’t put me in the closet. I’ll be good now. I promise, Peter said, sobbing because he knew where his mother planned to take him. His attempts to pull away from her only increased her hold on him as her fingernails dug into the already bruising flesh on his arm.

I’ll teach you to pay attention, if it kills me, she said as she pulled him over to the small closet under the stairs, opened the door and shoved him inside. As she locked it, she heard his small voice whimpering.

Please, let me out. I’ll be good. Please let me out. He began knocking on the door.

That’s what you always say. She stomped back to the kitchen, sat down at the table, and spooned some beans into her mouth.

It was only a little milk, Fern. Why do you always have to be so hard on him? Sam asked, picking up his glass of water.

It’s the third time this month that he’s had an accident. And remember Sunday? He and Clem, Jr. were snickering in church during the sermon, she said, buttering another piece of cornbread.

Yeah, and he spent the better part of the afternoon locked in that closet. You’d probably like to throw me in that closet too, wouldn’t you? He shoved his chair back and got up, then grabbed his jacket and went outside. He slammed the door shut on his way out.

As much as Sam would have liked to keep Fern from putting their son in the closet, he knew if he interfered with her disciplinarian ways, he would suffer as much as Peter.

When Fern finished eating, she got up and cleared the table. Humming while she stacked the dishes, she looked out the window at the fields of wheat and corn. Why did I have to marry a farmer, she thought to herself.

Peter sobbed in the dark closet as he hugged himself into a little ball. He tried to talk himself out of his fear. I’m not afraid; it’s only a closet. He thought he heard noises beside him and edged closer to the door. Suddenly, it wasn’t a closet anymore. It was a home for unnatural things, things that reached for him in the dark. Shivers overcame him as he waited for something to touch him.

The last time he was locked in the closet, he let his imagination get to him and was almost screaming when his father finally let him out. Peter made a determined effort not to scream. Instead of thinking about ghosts and goblins this time, he thought about fishing, and hoped that his dad would take him soon. As Peter contemplated the possibility of going fishing with his father, he felt the heat from the fireplace and began to grow sleepy. The last thought on his mind before he drifted off was, Well, at least I didn’t have to eat the cornbread.

Chapter 1

Fifteen years later

Barbara arrived early at the auditorium in downtown San Diego, ready to model for the first time with a prestigious agency. It was a chance to work full time for this firm, if she could impress them with her ability. Excited to be in a high-end fashion show, she shivered in anticipation. She looked carefully at the runway which jutted out into the room. Several people were already seated at the tables which faced the platform. As she walked further into the room, she tried to imagine herself at the front of the stage and felt the first knots of apprehension. Then, as she looked around at the people waiting for the show to begin, she found herself wondering why they had arrived so early.

Listening to murmurs and whispers, she thought she also heard muffled laughter. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she wondered what they might think of her. Soon, she would be in front of hundreds of people, and knew if all went well, she could be hired permanently. This had been her dream since high school, to work for this particular company, the Executive Modeling Agency.

Barbara walked past the tables and back behind the stage where she approached a small group of people who were engrossed in conversation.

Hi, I’m Barbara Evans. I’m here on a temporary assignment. Does anyone know where I should go to model bathing suits? she asked the woman standing closest to her as she clutched her make-up bag tightly.

When no one answered, she raised her voice, Excuse me, do you know where I can find Damon? I’m supposed to meet him for the modeling job?

An older man turned toward her, a scowl on his face. Damon isn’t here right now. He had to step out for a minute. Come with me, he said, not introducing himself as he walked off toward the right side of the room. Barbara followed close behind him. When he stopped, he asked, Are you Barbara Evans?

Yes, I am.

He then pointed toward a small room with an open door. That’s your dressing room. There are three swim suits in there. He started to walk off, but she put her hand on his arm.

So what do I do? This is my first time here, Barbara said as she turned the doorknob and pushed open the door to the dressing room.

He rolled his eyes at her. Put one of those on, fix your face and hair and we’ll call you when it’s your turn, he turned and started walking back to the small group.

Thanks," she said as she watched him walk away. Turning around, she entered the small dressing room and shut the door. She took one look at the skimpy suits and swallowed, her heart suddenly in her throat.

The room appeared to be clean with the smell of new paint. A single red rose in a bud vase sat on the make-up table. With a smile, she reached over and gently touched the fragile petals. Pleased that someone left it for her, she felt more at ease.

Setting down her bag, she selected one of the bathing suits and held it up to examine it. As soon as she slipped into it, she carefully looked at herself in the full length mirror and tried not to notice how much of her body was bare.

At least she could be thankful that she had a good tan. She sat down in front of the make-up mirror, took the brush out and highlighted her cheeks. After accenting her fine bone structure, she applied a liberal amount of red lipstick to her pouty lips. She combed her long blond hair and then stood up.

Surveying herself again in the mirror, she smoothed down the silky, clinging material of the expensive blue swimsuit. Bringing her shaky hands to her flushed cheeks, she noticed that the color of the suit matched the blue in her eyes.

She smiled at her image as a thought hit her. My big moment is finally here. It’s incredible that I’m getting ready to model for this dream agency. Feeling gratitude toward the temporary modeling service she had worked for, she hoped she wouldn’t have to go back to modeling for various department stores catalogs.

Barbara had always dreamed of being a model since she was a little girl. When other girls played with dolls, Barbara had played dress-up. She smiled as she remembered how many times she’d gotten into trouble for ruining her mother’s makeup.

A knock at the door pulled her from her reverie. Hi Barbara, can I come in? a voice called.

Come in. She opened the door and saw a young man with black hair and gray eyes.

Hi. I’m Damon and I’ll be calling you to go on stage, he said, offering her his hand.

Thanks. I was wondering when I would meet you, she took the hand he offered and gave it a little shake. She admired his muscular arms as she pulled her hand back.

Sorry, I planned on being here when you arrived, but Chuck told me you came a little early. He smiled at her and then said, So welcome to Executive Modeling Agency. If you do well, you could end up being a permanent part of our company. You’ll be on in about five minutes, so go and stand next to Martha, the redhead behind the curtain, and I’ll call you. He smiled at her as he walked away.

She grabbed the swimsuit’s matching jacket and slid her arms into the sleeves. Trembling slightly, she walked out of the dressing room and over to the stage. Peeking out from behind the curtain, she was amazed at how big the audience was.

Good grief! she exclaimed and then turned to the girl beside her and noticed she was also glancing out at the large crowd.

Wow, the tall redheaded girl said. We should hopefully make some good sales today.

I hope so. I’m Barbara. Are you Martha? she asked.

Yeah, you must be the temp. Is this your first time here?

It is and I’m a little nervous. I’ve never been on a real runway before. My modeling jobs have been for catalogs only. Have you been doing this for very long?

About two years. This is a great company to model for. If you’re not used to having people watch you, just ignore all the faces and concentrate on something else. Some people like to imagine all the patrons naked. I’ve tried that, but it makes me laugh too much. You can try that and if nothing else, it will put a smile on your face. Martha laughed as she let go of the curtain.

Barbara laughed too and felt like she had met a kindred spirit.

I’m up now, Martha said as she parted the curtain and disappeared. Barbara stood there for several minutes, nervously wondering how long it would be until she would be called to go out. She pulled at the back of her bathing suit self-consciously.

Just as she began to fell calmer, she heard Damon call her. Okay Barbara, your turn. Make them want to buy that bathing suit.

She stepped out on the stage and walked to the beginning of the ramp. After making a couple of turns with the jacket on, she slowly took it off and started down the runway. She heard whispers and comments as she bared more of herself in the brief bathing suit. Feeling her cheeks turn hot, Barbara continued to concentrate on her job, hoping she wasn’t as red as she felt. She pivoted and turned, just as she was taught and hoped she was doing everything correctly. She walked slowly to the end of the runway and stopped. She began counting to ten as she waited before making a turn and walking back toward the curtain.

She’d been afraid to look at the audience. It hadn’t occurred to her to picture them nude. She felt as if she could feel every eye on her and was relieved when the curtain closed behind her.

Good job, Damon assured her. Get ready for the next call. Barbara ran back to her dressing room and put on a different suit. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe this next time I’ll try to imagine a few of them naked, she thought.

When the show was finally over, Barbara changed back into her own clothes. As she slipped her feet into her Maryjane’s, she felt drained of energy. She had only modeled three bathing suits, but the tension had unnerved her. The suits she modeled had sold completely out of stock. It was good to think that maybe she had done her job well. Noticing Martha standing with some of the other models, she walked over and joined them.

Hey, girl, you did all right. Martha smiled at her as she walked up. Looking at the others, she said, I’d like you to meet Barbara, the new model who was sent here today. Barbara, I’d like you to meet Kathy, Sandy and Maryanne. Martha pointed at each girl as she introduced them. I was really impressed with Barbara’s performance. Martha told the other girls. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she’s going to be working with us from now on.

Barbara felt like she had been accepted in the world of high fashion. Feeling elated, she allowed Martha to lead her over to the curtain with the other models. As they stood there with their heads poking out of the curtain, she was amazed at the activity. She was wide eyed as she listened to the haggling and bantering between the buyers and the sellers.

They didn’t hear Damon come up behind them until he called out to them. I want everyone back here tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, looking fresh and well rested. Turning to Barbara as the others started to walk away, he said, Go down to the modeling agency’s office and get all the paper work out of the way.

Her heart soared as she realized she must have done well. Do you mean I’m hired full time? she asked, her hands covering her mouth.

You bet, Doll, you did a first class job. Damon patted her under the chin before walking away.

They must be happy with me. All my classes and hard work have finally paid off. I’m on my way to stardom, she thought, bubbling with excitement as she turned to Martha.

I told you. I know a winner when I see one. I’m glad they’re hiring you, Martha said. Let’s get out of here. Would you like to go to lunch with me?

I’d like to have lunch with you, but I can’t. I have to fill out employment papers and meet my sister, Jean.

They walked out into the bright sunlight and headed for their cars. Looking back over her shoulder, Barbara waved to Martha and called, See you tomorrow.

Chapter 2

Peter Gray took a deep breath of the fresh air blowing across the river. He loved the smell of the water, the sharp tangy scent and felt a kinship with the river. It was deep and mysterious, just like him. He blew the air