Maid for Martin (39 page)

As she spat out the vile tasting whiskey, she kicked the chair away and scurried to the kitchen. She stuck her hand in the cookie jar and sank to the floor, holding Benny’s gun in her hand. Charlie leaned back. Her body was trying to recover from the shock of the beating and the sound of the bottle hitting Benny’s head.

Charlie froze for a few seconds and sat holding the gun. She looked down at the blood on her hands and wanted to scream. Her hands and legs trembled, but she willed herself to calm down. She huddled, listening, her lips moving in a silent prayer.

She kept the gun in one hand, crawled to the end of the bar, and peeped into the dining area. Benny lay close to the back door. The thought of him grabbing her leg as she walked by caused her heart to race. “If I can get out of the house, I’ll be okay.”

Charlie stood on wobbly legs and dug into the cookie jar again. Benny’s poker stash would come in handy. She’d given Tammy money for weeks; it was time for payback. She shoved the money and the 9mm Kel-Tec in her pocket, said a prayer, and hurried over top of Benny. She grabbed her jacket and purse from the coat rack and ran out the back door.

Once she made it to the sidewalk she stopped and looked back, Benny wasn’t following. Had she hit him too hard? Charlie took a deep breath and looked around.

She didn’t want to be in South Bend, Indiana. She wanted to forget these last three months and go back home to Ohio, but she couldn’t. Two months after she turned twenty, she left home because of her dad.

Since the accident at work, he
no longer allowed her to go to church. He started drinking, and blamed most of his problems on God. Charlie knew her dad’s pain had put them in a tense situation. He needed relief. If he could get the insurance company to approve his surgery, maybe things would change.

Charlie felt anger rise. She looked to the sky. “Why did you send me here?
  What good did it do me?  I’m no better off.   I’m kicked out in the cold, beaten and bleeding!” Charlie looked around feeling lost.

“Now what?
  I’m too broke for a hotel.  I can’t go home.  That just leaves . . . Aunt Verla, in Chicago.” An idea began to form and Charlie started pacing. She looked down at her shirt; she needed to hide the blood. She slipped into her jacket and zipped it up.

Her hands had stopped shaking, but her lip ached. She pulled out some tissues and tried to wipe the blood away. When Charlie heard a noise she looked up.  She could see Benny’s shadow moving around inside the house.

“I can’t let him catch me.”

Charlie looked up and down the street and noticed Benny’s neighbor, Sam, leaving for church. She ran across the street, calling to him as he unlocked his truck. “Can you give me a lift?”

Sam looked toward Benny’s house and his brow furrowed. “Where to?”

“The bus station.”

“Sure, come on, I’ll take you.” Sam didn’t mention the fact that she was a mess, or ask her about the blood that was on her hands and face. Five minutes later as he dropped her off at the ticket office, he turned and finally broached the subject.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

“Do I need to call the police?”

Charlie shrugged.” Maybe you should, to be sure Benny’s okay.”

Sam nodded, “I can do that, but I was worried about you, not Benny.

Charlie glanced up. “I hit him pretty hard, but I saw him walking inside the house.”

“Don’t worry about Benny; he’s got a hard head. What about you? Are you sure you don’t need help? I can take you to the doctor.

“No.  I’m fine. I’m going to see my aunt.”

“Well, you be careful. I’ll be praying for you. Here, take this.”

“I don’t need to . . .” Charlie tried to protest but Sam interrupted.

“It ain’t much. I forgot my wallet at the house, but it might come in handy. Take it.” Charlie nodded and took the money putting it in her pocket.

“Take care, missy.”

“I will.”

After closing the truck door Charlie walked into the building. Her pace quickened and she went to the bathroom, stepped into a stall, and pulled out the gun.

She checked the chamber as quietly as possible. It was empty. Next she took the clip out; there were five rounds left. She pushed the clip deep into her jeans pocket, and slid the gun into her jacket.

She counted her money; it added up to seventy dollars. That would get her to Chicago.
  She stepped to the sink and washed up, looking at her reflection.

“I’m a mess.”

She could see a bruise close to her eye, and a busted lip. She patted her face dry, hoping her lip wouldn’t start bleeding again. After brushing her tousled hair, she tucked in her shirt, managing to hide most of the blood. Charlie checked her appearance and then headed out to look at the bus schedule.

Twenty minutes later she boarded a bus to Chicago.  Charlie   sat in the second seat back and prayed for guidance. She glanced at the strangers around her. They seemed lost in their own thoughts.

How many of them were running from something, too? Charlie settled down and tried not to think about what awaited her in Chicago or what might be following behind her.

Chapter 2

Chicago

“A city on a hill can not be hidden . . . Matthew 5:14.” The smile Charlie got from the bus driver when he turned to look at her seemed phony.
  Maybe he didn’t like people talking to themselves.  She didn’t care. She smiled on, mesmerized by the Chicago skyline.

The bus rolled into the Midway Terminal at nine-thirty. Charlie didn’t expect the station to be busy at this time of night.  People hurried by, pushing and shoving.
  It made her feel lost and out of place.

It took an hour to get off the bus, find a bathroom and get a cup of coffee. She spent another thirty minutes looking for an English-speaking cabby. She needed a quote on how much it would cost to take her to 2029 Kolin Avenue.

The first guy shook his head. ‘K-Town not at this time of night.’ The next three either couldn’t speak English or didn’t want to take the time to see what she wanted. She sighed deeply out of frustration.

“I’ll take you to 'K-Town', but it’ll cost you forty.”

Charlie turned, startled.  She nodded to the young man; he didn’t look old enough to drive. “You will?”

“Yep.
  I’ll take you to Kolin.  My cab’s down the street. You got forty?” The young man seemed to be looking her over.  Charlie knew with her black eye and busted lip she must look a sight.

“I have it.”

“I’ll take half up front; call me Willie.  Stay here, I’ll get the cab.”

Once in the car, Charlie handed the young man a twenty. He stuffed it into his pocket and spoke.  “A lot of cabbies don’t come to K-town this time of night.”

“Is it a rough neighborhood?”

“It’s not the best; but also I’m not going to get a return fare. That’s why I charged you for both ways.”

“I see. Should I have waited until tomorrow?”

“Nah, just watch your step. Don’t be hanging out on the streets and you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks. The only place I’m going is to see my aunt.”
 

“Are you staying long?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Willie handed a card over the back seat and Charlie took it.
  “Call me if you need a cab.  I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”

“Thanks.
  I’ll keep that in mind.”

Willie and Charlie chatted until he made the turn onto Kolin Avenue and brought the cab to a stop. Charlie handed him the other twenty, said her goodnights, and stepped out into a light rain. 

Charlie watched the cab's taillights disappear down the street, then turned, looking at the line of houses.
  The building Aunt Verla lived in stood four stories high with a white fence surrounding the entire complex.

After trying the door, Charlie realized she needed a key to get inside. If she couldn’t stay with her Aunt Verla, she didn’t know what she would do. She spent most of her money on getting to Chicago.
 

She could call the police, and
 confess to stealing Benny’s gun. They’d be more than happy to put her up for the night. 

As if she didn’t have enough troubles, the rain started to fall harder. She moved close to the building, standing under the small awning. Five minutes later a young woman with an umbrella came hurrying down the street and started up the steps.
 Even in the dim light Charlie could see she didn’t look happy.

“Look! I know it’s raining, but you can’t stay here.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed and she gestured at the door.  “I’m here to see my aunt.”

“Sure you are. Now go on before I call the cops.”
 The young woman took out her cell phone. “I
will
call them.”

“My aunt really lives in this building.
  Verla King, she’s in apartment 5B.”

“Verla isn’t here!
  She’s gone to Florida.”

“Florida?” Charlie sighed.
 

“You should have known that, since you’re her niece.
  How did you get her name?  Did you go through our trash?”

“No!
  She’s my aunt.  I’m from Indiana. I didn’t know.  We don’t talk to each other that much.”  This bit of news hit Charlie hard. Eight dollars wouldn’t get her back to Indiana, and since she didn’t have a credit card, there would be no use in looking for a motel room. 

“Look, I need to go. I don’t know if she’s your aunt or not. What I do know is that you can’t stay here.
 
I’m not going to let you in.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“That’s not my problem.”

The rain greeted Charlie by pelting her in the face.  It stung her lip, and she fought back tears.  She hurried down the street to an all-night diner that Willie suggested. 

She stood under the small canopy gathering her thoughts.
  Did she dare spend her last few dollars on something to eat?  Willie warned her to stay off the streets. 

Charlie stepped inside the diner, shaking off as much rain as she could before entering.
  At least she’d be warm and dry.  She moved to a small booth, sat down and picked up the menu.  The warm room felt good, but she was chilled from being in the rain.

She pulled out her money, counting the few dollars in her purse, eight dollars and change.
  Charlie knew she shouldn’t spend it all on one meal; she’d have to find something cheap, and take it from there.

“Hey, lady, what do you want?”
  A man yelled from the counter.  “We don’t have a waitress tonight.”

Charlie moved to sit at the bar. She glanced at a menu, and when the man stepped closer she spoke. “I’ll have a cup of hot tea and some toast with butter, please.”
  

“Sure thing.” The man raised a brow and gave her a nod.  She could tell he wanted to mention her busted lip and the bruises on her hand, but he didn’t. 

Instead he took her money, laid her change on the table and with a nod, said her order would be ready in a minute.

When her order arrived, she picked up the tea and small saucer that held the toast, and went back to the booth to stay away from the cold air.

She added sugar and cream to her tea as she stole glances at her surroundings. Three people sat scattered over the diner. One man dined alone as he chatted on his cell phone.
 

Across the room were two women; one reading the paper while drinking a coffee, the other sat looking at a menu. She glanced up now and then as if waiting on someone. 

None of them seemed to even notice Charlie, and for that she was thankful.

Around ten-thirty a handful of people came wandering in, and for about an hour, the place stayed busy.  Charlie sat watching the natives come and go, thinking and praying, not sure what she should do.  The hot tea helped her feel better, and as she ate the toast she longed for the pizza she’d left sitting on Benny’s table.

She tried not to make any direct eye contact with the patrons, and she tensed when a rough looking crowd came in; they looked to be what her dad would call thugs.
 They ate, laughed, and talked loud, but left causing no trouble.

Midnight came and went. Around two a.m., Charlie glanced at her watch. She wondered if the man at the counter would care if she stayed all night. 

He
 looked tired, and when she ordered her second cup of tea, much to her surprise, he spoke. 

“Here, I need to get rid of these. Take two if you want.”  The man pushed a covered tray of doughnuts in her direction and she smiled.

“Thank you.”

       “Ah, you’re welcome.”  He finally said in a tired tone, waving his hand, and going back to a book he was reading.