tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64326096446715496382024-03-13T05:48:44.750-05:00Cold Haven <i>They say this town is the end of the earth. For some, it's the end of their life.</i>Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-35195584480104182692015-08-18T22:14:00.002-05:002015-08-19T08:51:18.930-05:00Chapter Ten, Part TwoThe walk home didn’t seem quite so cold and my apartment building not as bleak as before. Even the stray I had been feeding seemed a little friendlier and purred when I knelt to scratch its ears before going inside.<br />
<br />
Was Cade really going to forgive my evasiveness and bad behavior? I climbed the creaking steps and fumbled with my key. A romantic relationship was still a little too much to ask, but maybe we could at least be friends. A normal friendship with someone who had no agenda would be a nice change. As if to make a nasty cosmic joke of this last thought, I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs below.<br />
<br />
“Judith? Do you have a minute?”<br />
<br />
I hesitated, half-in, half-out of my doorway. “I was just about to have dinner.”<br />
<br />
Father Cash appeared at the top of the stairs. “I’m sorry to interrupt, my dear. I’ll only be a minute.” He offered a conciliatory smile. “How was work?”<br />
<br />
“Great. We’ll be ready for that audit in no time.” <br />
<br />
“That’s good to hear.” <br />
<br />
If he was pleased, it didn’t show in his voice.<br />
<br />
“I’ve had some news about my sister.”<br />
<br />
I set my dinner, still in its paper bag, on the table. “Everything’s okay, I hope.”<br />
<br />
“She’s alive.” He sat down on my hard wooden chair. “It would appear she hadn’t been coping well for quite some time, though. She’s been in rehab. Didn’t want anyone to know.”<br />
<br />
“And now she’s out and you had to tell her what happened.”<br />
<br />
Father Cash sighed heavily. “In seminary, they train us in these types of situations, and certainly my time in Cold Haven has given me plenty of opportunity to practice, but…”<br />
<br />
“There are some things nothing can prepare you for.”<br />
<br />
He nodded and buried his face in his hands.<br />
<br />
I cast a wistful look at my dinner, suppressed a sigh and went into the kitchen to heat a kettle of water. A few minutes later, I handed him a cup of tea. <br />
<br />
He took it in his hands but didn’t drink any “Lena blames herself, of course. She says Sella ran away because of her.”<br />
<br />
“That may have been part of it,” I offered, “but lots of kids have parents with substance abuse problems. They don’t generally run away unless there are other problems too, and when they do leave they usually don’t go any farther than a friend’s house.”<br />
<br />
“I know. I assured her there must have been other factors, but she was in no mood to listen.” Father Cash took a sip of his tea. “She wants Sella sent home.”<br />
<br />
“That’s understandable.”<br />
<br />
He set the cup on the floor. “I have no money to do that. I had to borrow just to give that poor child a proper Christian burial. And Lena has no money after being in rehab for three months, but somehow she thinks this is my problem.”<br />
<br />
“Well, it’s not like there’s any great urgency,” I pointed out. “Sella’s not going anywhere. When your sister has the money, she can make the arrangements then.”<br />
<br />
Father Cash fixed me with a look. “That’s not how she sees it. She even suggested that this was all my fault; that I hadn’t watched Sella properly.”<br />
<br />
I glanced again at my dinner. “People say crazy things when they’re grieving. She just needs time to process.”<br />
<br />
“I hope that’s all it is. Tragedy is supposed to bring people together, not tear them apart.” He got to his feet. “Thank you for listening, dear. And I’m sorry to have interrupted your dinner.” <br />
<br />
I told him to think nothing of it and accepted his blessing. Once he was out the door and I could hear his footsteps on the stairs, I ripped open my bag from the diner, my stomach growling in anticipation. <br />
<br />
As I ate my cold burger and fries, it occurred to me that having a simple explanation for Lena’s disappearance and Sella’s decision to run away might convince Father Cash to quit imagining that Sella’s death was anything more than an ordinary suicide. But of course there was still the matter of Crazy Eddie seeing her talking to Arlo before her death. Like mother, like daughter, it would seem.<br />
<br />
Why did it still seem fishy though? It was a little too convenient, too obvious. I wiped my greasy fingers on a paper napkin. There was something about all this that didn’t add up, and in spite of my previous assertions that it was a business I wanted no part of, my curiosity was now starting to get the better of me.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/08/chapter-ten-part-one.html"> <<Previous</a><br />
<br />
Next>>Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-30753771674592468912015-08-11T23:10:00.000-05:002015-08-18T22:14:41.870-05:00Chapter Ten, Part OneRain and sleet pattered on the window, but the church office was cozy and a small heater warmed my feet as I frowned at the computer screen. A month had passed since the gruesome evening when I came out of a blackout at Crazy Eddie’s place, and my numbers weren’t balancing, but I was more irritated than concerned. For someone who couldn’t budget her personal finances, I was finding I had a knack for putting the St. Ignatius charity books in order.<br />
<br />
The arrangement had been made by Father Cash, at his insistence, and although I was reluctant to be beholden to him, it was a chance to earn a little money in a way I didn’t have to hide. My pay wasn’t enough to keep me from having to make the occasional drug drop-off, but I hadn’t needed to turn a trick in weeks. The church paid cash, too, which was helpful.<br />
<br />
I peered at my spreadsheet, found the discrepancy and corrected it. What a shame not all problems were solved so easily. I printed my report, shut down the computer, and went to say good bye to Miriam, the aging full-time church clerk who I had been hired to help for the next few months. She was on the phone when I laid my reconciled budget in front of her, so she merely waved and mouthed the words “thank you.”<br />
<br />
At the bottom of the stairs, I stepped into my boots, put on my coat and grabbed my umbrella. It was a nasty afternoon and I wanted to go straight home, but had nothing to eat. Going to the store was cheaper, but the Elk Diner was along my way and offered takeout. I was sitting at the counter, waiting for the waitress to bag my order when the door opened and two men in heavy jackets blew in with the wind. One of them glanced my way and I caught my breath.<br />
<br />
Cade’s eyes widened in surprise, then he gave me a quick, enigmatic smile and turned his attention to his colleague as they sought an empty booth. While they pored over menus, I feigned absorption in my phone, all the while acutely aware of Cade’s presence. Each time I glanced his way, he was looking elsewhere or engaged in conversation with his friend, but there was still something tangible in the room, as if the air itself had been drawn tight as a bowstring, ready to snap.<br />
<br />
"Here you are, Miss. That’ll be $6.78.” I fumbled in my purse and handed the waitress a twenty. She moved with agonizing slowness to the register, while I kept my head down, pretending to check my order, check my receipt, look at anything but where Cade was sitting. I was desperate to flee, but at the same time wished the waitress would take all night counting my change so I could be in Cade’s presence just a little longer. I was facing my bills, smoothing them neatly into my wallet as if the process was of utmost importance, when I felt him approach.<br />
<br />
"Imagine running into you here.”<br />
<br />
I offered what I hoped was a polite but not chilly smile. “I could say the same of you. My excuse is that it’s near my work. What’s yours?”<br />
<br />
“Where do you work? I don’t think you ever told me.”<br />
<br />
“It’s a new job.” I shrugged as if it were no big deal, but I was secretly pleased to be able to talk about work like normal people did. “I’m doing a short-term assignment at St. Ignatius, helping get their charity accounts ready for an audit.”<br />
<br />
“Helping the poor.” He nodded in approval. “That can be very rewarding.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t know how much help I am to the needy,” I admitted. “I mainly make sure that the invoices for baby formula and canned tuna match the budget and were paid with the right type of funds.”<br />
<br />
“If the books aren’t kept straight, no one eats.” Cade thrust out his hand. “Well, nice seeing you. I need to get back to my colleague. We’ve got a deal we’re working on. Sort of a partnership."<br />
<br />
“Good luck with that,” I said. I grasped his hand and found I didn’t want to let it go. The next words tumbled out before I could stop them. “Can I call you? I feel like I owe, or just want to say—"<br />
<br />
Cade smiled, and although it wasn’t the warm grin that I loved, the kindness in his voice made up for it. “Call me. We’ll talk."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/08/chapter-nine-part-two.html"><<Previous</a><br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/08/chapter-ten-part-two.html">Next>></a><br />
<br />Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-15386831000172830462015-08-04T21:52:00.001-05:002015-08-05T22:20:22.157-05:00Chapter Nine, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although this wasn't the sort of place patronized by classy
folk, I felt filthy and suspected I looked like a fright, so I ordered a slice of pepperoni to
go. It was just as well that I not have to tip or pay for a drink, since it was
possible that the money in my purse was for a drug handoff and needed to be
given to someone. Mouse, maybe? Arlo?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sighed as I thought of Arlo, took my pizza box and my
change. Then I headed back into the cold, pondering as I walked toward my
apartment. It wasn't likely that Sella would've known Arlo before coming to Cold Harbor, and it was equally unlikely that our brief
encounter on the street the day I took Sella to the docks would have resulted
in a second meeting. But according to Eddie, she had business with him, and I tried to get my
muddled brain to parse this piece of information.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time I reached my apartment building, I was no wiser.
I was fumbling with my key when I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me. I
turned and saw Father Cash on the landing, gazing stony-faced at me.
"Hi," I offered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Are you okay? You've been gone for two days and you look terrible."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two days? Things were worse than I realized, but I was in no mood to deal with Father Cash, of all people. "Nice to
see you, too," I said. I unlocked my door, and he followed me inside.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Where have you been?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"What, are you checking up on me now? I thought we
weren't friends any more." I dropped my coat on the floor and took my
pizza into the kitchenette, defying him to follow. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm not heartless, Judith. It's obvious that you
haven't been yourself lately."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Hm."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
started to put the pizza on a plate, but then decided why bother? It would only
mean I'd have to wash a dish later on. I grabbed the pizza out of the box and
took a bite. It was cool from the chilly walk home, but it was greasy and
salty, which was what my body craved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash came into the doorway. "You're killing
yourself, and I can't stand by and let that happen."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Why not?" I gulped another bite. "I'm not
your responsibility."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He sighed and his dark eyes took on a mournful cast.
"We are all each others' keepers. I've been wrong to push you away over
our little disagreement. You're entitled to your opinions." He looked
away. "And perhaps you're right. I made excuses for Sella so I wouldn't
have to see the truth, but I can't keep doing that with you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I gnawed the crust of my pizza, wondering if I understood
him correctly. "You may be more right about Sella than I gave you credit
for," I told him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He shook his head, not understanding.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We thought she never went anywhere, but one of my
contacts says he saw her talking to Arlo Pontoski - you know, the oxy
distribution guy. Says it looked like a drug deal."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"My Sella?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mouth felt dry and the pizza crust was like glue. I
fumbled in a cupboard for a glass, filled it with water from the tap, and took
a few gulps before explaining. "He saw a girl who matched her description,
including the coat and scarf, talking to Arlo. He says something changed
hands." I took another sip of water, my body craving it after the salty
pizza. "He assumed it was drugs, but he had no proof. I suppose it
could've been anything."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash turned away, his brow furrowed in thought. "I
would need more than hearsay to believe it, but I suppose if she had an addiction of some kind, it
would explain a lot."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that I had a little food in my stomach, my head was
starting to clear a little. With that came the realization that I was exhausted
to the core. "Well, it's something to think about. If
you don't mind, I want to get some sleep."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes, you look like you need it, dear." Still
frowning, he moved slowly toward the door. "I'd like to talk about this
later - maybe you could try to get more information?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The last thing I wanted to do was go near Crazy Eddie again,
but explaining would have started a whole new conversation I wasn't willing to
have. "Maybe," I said. "I need to rest now."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Of course you do. And maybe you'll let me help you. Perhaps I could find you a little job or something. No strings."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I must have given him a skeptical look because he smiled sadly."You
are one of God's children. Be good to yourself, dear." Then for the first time in weeks, he blessed
me before going on his way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Next>></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-nine-part-one.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-61531824492142979962015-07-28T22:53:00.003-05:002015-08-04T21:55:24.349-05:00Chapter Nine, Part One<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the disastrous date with Cade, I through myself into my work. What
else could I do? He had awakened dangerous feelings, and I made it my
mission to do everything I could to put him out of my mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anything that would make me forget, I did. I delivered drugs
for Arlo. I helped Mouse cook a batch of meth. I turned a few tricks and tried
not to think about Cade while I let a stranger use my body. When I had money to
spare, I drank and took pills, staying wasted and insensible for long
stretches of time, until night and day become jumbled in my mind. Father Cash
never knocked to check on me, and Cade never called. Only the threat of
eviction or having my electricity cut off could get me to answer my phone or
work yet another shit job until finally one gray afternoon, I came out of a
blackout in Crazy Eddie's living room. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The television was showing a football game, but the sound
was turned down and Eddie was talking about an upcoming vote before the state
legislature. From his tone, I guessed it was a mutual conversation, and he was
disagreeing with something I had said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You obviously don't know how the game is played,
Judith. He wouldn't dare use his veto power. They'll block his highway bill,
which he needs to pass if he's going to get reelected."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"But not vetoing would cost him his other
constituents," I said, seizing on the most general thing I could say that
wouldn't give away that I had no memory of what we were talking about.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You keep coming back to that."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Obviously I was on the right track.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm telling you, his base isn't as conservative as you
think. Legalization's time has come."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh, so that was what we were talking about. Eddie had a struggling
grow room in a warehouse on the outskirts of town, and was convinced that he
could make a killing in the marijuana business if only it would be legalized. Unfortunately,
Eddie was the sort who could wither plants just by walking into a room, but I
wasn't going to be the one to tell him that legalization would only allow him
to fail out in the open, instead of behind closed doors.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Specialization is where it's going to be at. That's
where you're going to be a big help to me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Hm." He rambled on tediously, but I ignored him, having just now noticed that the seams of my leggings were twisted, as if
I had put them on hastily, and my shirt was misbuttoned and open to my sternum.
I frowned. Had I fucked Crazy Eddie? There was a glass on the coffee table in
front of me and I picked it up and sipped it warily. Ginger ale. I took a few
greedy gulps, hoping it would settle my sudden nausea.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"So that's all you've got to do. Easy, huh? You don't
need to worry that it'll piss off Arlo or any of your other contacts. You're
not diverting their business, just getting a sense of what the market really
wants. That way when legalization does come, we can target that market and win
them over legit, no undercutting needed, because we'll be providing what
they've been looking for all along."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'll do what I can," I said, trying unobtrusively
to button up my shirt, only to find that my fingers felt thick and clumsy.
"But I mostly deliver meth and oxy, you know. Pot isn't usually part of
the deal."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eddie scoffed. "Everyone smokes, whether they buy it
from your guys or not. Just ask around, okay?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ginger ale was starting to settle my queasy stomach, and
my mind was growing clearer by the minute. I still had no memory of how I came
to be here, but the thought that I might've slept with Eddie threatened to make
me sick. I stood up, willing myself not to wobble. "I should probably be
going now."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Let me get your coat."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He walked away and came back a moment later with my coat,
which he helped me into. Since he wasn't usually so solicitous, this only
confirmed my suspicion that something had happened between us, but it was his
next words that chilled me though. "Thanks for stopping by. I hope you can
do something with the information about Sella." His hand, which had been
adjusting my collar, slipped inside the coat and squeezed my breast. "It
was a fair trade, don't you think?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I realized what had happened, and I floundered for a few
functioning brain cells to help me out of this dilemma without coming right out
and admitting I had no memory of what we had done, much less what he had said.
"Fair for you, I guess. But how do I know what you said is true?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Don't be like that, babe." He pulled me to him
and put his hands on my ass. "I saw them with my own eyes."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried to pull away, but he held me firm, his breath stale
and stinking on my face. "It could've been something other than what it
looked like," I pointed out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He kissed me sloppily, forcing his tongue into my mouth
while grinding his hips into mine. I tried to feign at least some willingness,
but it was almost too much. I wasn't going to have to go to bed with him again,
this time remembering every repulsive moment of it, was I? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I forced myself away and faked a small laugh. "That's
no answer." I pulled my coat tightly around myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eddie scowled. "What else could it have been? She gave
him something, he gave her something...didn't look like they were exchanging
Hallmark cards."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"But how would they have even known each other? Sella
was a stranger here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He gave a little shrug. Maybe he was friends with that uncle
of hers, or maybe they met at the corner store sometime when she was out buying
tampons or something, how would I know?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"But Sella never left the house and hardly spoke at
all." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Obviously you're wrong about that, because she knew
Arlo at least well enough to make a deal with him." Eddie took a step
closer and touched my hair. "You're too hung up on this, babe."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I forced a smile. "You're right. I gotta go
now." I grabbed the door and fumbled with the lock. Eddie
reached over to help and I stepped out into the cold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We should do it again sometime," he called after
me as I hurried down the steps.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I managed what I hoped was a cheerful-looking wave.
"Sure. See you around."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I heard the door of his apartment close as I reached the
ground floor, then I ran a little, stumbling in the cold, as I tried to put some
distance between me and Eddie. When I reached the pizzeria at the corner, I
paused to catch my breath. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella had bought drugs from Arlo? That didn't seem likely,
for a number of reasons. But although Eddie was always looking to make a quick
buck, I didn’t know him to be a liar. If he had had bribed me into sex with
information, it was the truth, or at least the truth as he understood it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The door of the pizzeria opened and a customer darted out
with a takeout box, trailing the aroma of garlic and pepperoni. My stomach
growled. A slice of greasy pizza was exactly what I needed right now, and I
checked my purse to see if I could afford it. Inexplicably, there were two
crumpled twenties inside. Where had they come from? Had I made a delivery for
someone, in which case not all of it was mine? Or had I been to bed with a
paying customer, in addition to Eddie?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I needed to do some reflecting and get my life together. But first, I
needed some food. I shoved the bills back in my purse and went inside.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/08/chapter-nine-part-two.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-three.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-30933983463900572722015-07-21T21:21:00.000-05:002015-07-28T22:54:25.312-05:00Chapter Eight, Part Three<div class="MsoNormal">
I wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't pointed it out. The Peregrine seemed to me like any other fishing boat, painted white and
battered by the ocean and its sun, salt and storms. We walked down the dock and
boarded, and I found the deck and small enclosed cabin to be clean and
well-maintained, although a bit dingy with wear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I know it's not much to look at," Cade said,
"But I'm close to having her paid off and then I can look at growing my
business a little."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You mean more boats?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He shrugged. "Maybe. I have a few options I'm
considering. Haven't decided which way I intend to jump, though. Things could
change, and I like to stay flexible."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the next few minutes he showed me around, explaining the
different screens and electronic equipment used for finding and tracking
schools of fish. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I thought only governments had these. I had no idea an
ordinary guy could have his own sonar," I said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"And echosounders." He grinned. "It's pretty
standard in the industry, but if you haven't seen one before, it can seem kind
of special."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I suppose it's better than having to guess where the
fish are. Or go to a lot of trouble to catch them only to find out they're not
the right kind."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Fishing has come a long way," Cade admitted.
"There's a lot of science involved now. You still need to have an instinct
for it, though. And you need to not mind being cold, wet and in danger. Lots of
strange people in this business, too. No real vetting process. You could end up
on a boat with just about anyone, and once you're out at sea, not much you can
do about it. You learn a lot of tolerance out on the water."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I would imagine so," I said. "There are a
lot of strange people in my life too, but at least I don't have to live with
them."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's an acquired skill," he assured me. "But
there's no point acquiring it if you don't have to. Save your energy for more
interesting things." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He showed me around the rest of his boat, including a small
kitchen, cramped bunks that were rarely used for more than brief naps, and a
vast hold where the catch had to be stored at just the right temperature and
precise weight distribution so as not to tip the boat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"If your cargo isn't balanced right, a storm or a rogue
wave can tip you over just like that. and in the cold waters around here, you've
got twenty minutes to live under optimal conditions. Most guys that happens to aren't
so lucky."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the next half hour Cade told me more about fishing
than I ever thought I'd want to know, but in his frank, unpolished way he made it seem, if not
exactly fascinating, at least not dull. By the time he took a couple beers out
of a fridge, I was feeling at home on the Peregrine and was content to sit with
him near one of the windows and look out over the metallic gray water.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By now the sun was little more than a pale glow on the horizon.
Sunsets aren't much to look at in Cold Harbor
and I found myself longing for the vivid reds and golds of home instead of
anemic silver. "Are the sunsets pretty in Maine?" I asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Not as pretty as the sunrise, since the sun sets over
land, not water." As if reading my mind, he added, "I miss home
sometimes."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn't trust myself to answer, and only nodded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Maybe you'll let me show it to you someday."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat back, startled. "Maine?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Or just a pretty sunrise." He looked away,
abashed. "Sorry if that was a little awkward. I don't spend much time
around women. I'm out of the habit of knowing what's the right thing to
say."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In that moment he looked so vulnerable that I forgot my
worries, set my beer aside and scooted closer. "Offering to show me a
pretty sunrise is just fine. I'm a little out of the habit of good manners
myself."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He drew me into his arms and it felt like the most natural
thing in the world to settle into the hollow of his body, warm and safe,
watching the light fade from the sky while the boat gently bobbed with the
waves. I wasn't prepared when he brushed his lips over my hair and then found
the bare spot on my neck where my hair had fallen forward. The sensation was
warm and electric. I froze for a moment, then felt his lips on my neck again,
and a long-forgotten fire coursed through me. I turned and kissed him, my body
and mind burning with a desire I had thought myself too jaded to feel any more.
Cade pulled me to him, as hungry as I was, but then unbidden, Father Cash's warning
repeated itself in my mind and brought me back to reality.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm sorry." I pulled away and stood up, dizzy and
weak in the knees. "I need to leave."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade reached for my hand. "I didn't mean for that to
happen. Really. Please sit back down."<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shook my head. There was no way I could explain, so I gave
the most classically lame excuse anyone has ever made for walking away.
"It's not you, it's me." I grabbed my coat and
headed out the door, but he followed me onto the deck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Let me at least walk you home, Judith."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'll be fine," I shouted, then I jumped onto the
dock and started running. I ran through the docks, across the street, and into
the warren of lanes and alleys full of fishing shops, chowder houses and pubs.
Although I didn't hear any footsteps behind me, I kept going until I reached a
familiar area. Brook Street
and Gaslight Avenue
weren't exactly the best part of town, but here I was on my own turf, and I
slowed to a walk, trying to catch my breath. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What an idiot I had been. I had thought myself immune to men
after going to bed with so many, but I was only fooling myself. From the moment
I laid eyes on Cade at the dock, I had wanted him, and no amount of survival
sex could change that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I wasn't the kind of girl Cade deserved.
Father Cash was right about that. He was better off without me, and even
friendship was a bad idea, since how could I just be friends when I wanted so
much more? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I walked the dingy streets toward home, my treacherous
mind spun fantasies of what things could be like if only I were an ordinary
waitress or bookkeeper, or better yet, if we had met before I had made so many
costly mistakes with my life. Cade and I could travel the sea on his boat, or
maybe get a little cottage together on the coast of Maine. We could be lighthouse keepers, supplementing our income
with the revenue from a fleet of fishing boats. On sunny afternoons, I would
sit outside and paint, and at night me and Cade—</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Hey, Judith. Been trying to reach you for the last
hour. How come you're not answering your phone?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I squinted at the darkness, scrambling to bring my mind back
to reality as Arlo stepped out of the shadows. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I got a job for you, if you want it. If not..."
he shrugged. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So much for cottages in Maine. "Yeah, I want it," I said.
The rent would soon be due and no amount of fantasizing was going
to change my empty wallet. "Whatever you've got, I'm game."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-nine-part-one.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-58542267502582713712015-07-14T21:31:00.000-05:002015-07-21T21:21:46.269-05:00Chapter Eight, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade suggested we meet at a place he was familiar with, and
luckily it wasn't very far away. Jimmy's was a cheerful-looking place relative
to its gray surroundings near the docks. I had never been inside before, since
it was frequented by the fishing caste, but today I took a deep breath and pushed
open the door. Dark wood paneling was draped with old fishing nets and shellacked, taxidermied
fish, and a few obligatory neon beer signs glowed from the wall behind the bar,
but it was otherwise well-lit and unintimidating. The strains of Patsy Cline
emanated from a jukebox as I scanned the room. Not seeing Cade, I approached
the bar and gingerly took a stool.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While the bartender was busy with another customer, I
checked my phone. No messages from Cade, so he would probably be on time. I had
arrived a little early, just to play things safe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I was tapping on my phone, a burly man a couple stools
down asked, "Company around here too boring for you, Miss?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I suppressed a sigh. If men knew how tedious and predictable
they were, would they still behave the way they did? "I'm waiting on my
date," I said, not so much to be polite but in case the guy knew Cade. It
wouldn't do to have any of his acquaintances telling him I was rude, when I was
enough things already.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well, no point being lonely. If he doesn't show up, I'll keep you
company."<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'll remember that." I returned to my phone and pretended
to be texting, even though I was only looking at my web browser. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not two minutes later, the bartender walked over and slapped
a coaster in front of me. "What can I get you?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hesitated. If I ordered a beer, would Cade think I was an
alcoholic, arriving early to start drinking? But if I ordered nothing, or only
water, would I look like I had no confidence he would show up? My dilemma was
solved by the pub door opening, and Cade walked in, wearing faded jeans,
well-worn boots and a brown leather jacket. He suggested we get a table and I
gratefully followed him to a quiet corner, where a rough-looking woman brought
us a basket of pretzels and took our beer order. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I really didn't think I was going to hear from
you," Cade said with such genuine pleasure in his eyes that I was as
overwhelmed as the first time I saw him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well, it would've been rude not to return the
favor..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"And here I thought it was the pleasure of my company
you wanted, and not just good manners."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In spite of myself, I smiled. "That too, of
course." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We spent the next half hour in idle chat about the safe
topics of food, fishing, and what passed for society in Cold
Haven. I was feeling relaxed and happy that I had called him,
when he broke my mood with a single remark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"So how did you end up here, Judith? You clearly aren't
enjoying it much, but I don't see any chains holding you down. It's a big world
out there."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I forced a smile. "I'm still planning my next
move."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I see."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm glad you do."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A long silenced passed between us and I was wondering what
to say next when the awkward moment was broken by the waitress asking if we
wanted another round. Instead of answering her, Cade turned to me. "Want
to see my boat? It's not far from here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All fishing boats looked alike to me, but it was a chance to
stay near him without the pressure of a conversation that might drift into
dangerous territory. I agreed, and Cade paid for our beers over my objections.
Then I followed him out into the weak gray light of early evening. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-three.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-one.htmlhttp://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-one.html"> <<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-9374457374525746502015-07-07T21:44:00.000-05:002015-07-14T21:31:48.298-05:00Chapter Eight, Part One<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I did call, although not right away. I could hardly call him
up and invite him to buy me dinner again, and it wasn't like Cold Haven had
any free parks or similar venues for a cheap date, so that meant scraping together
enough money to invite him for a beer, or at least a cup of coffee.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since it was the first of the month, I got my bogus
pseudephrine prescription filled and handed it over to Mouse for a profit
so he could cook it into meth. Arlo had a few deliveries for me to make, and
sent a trick my way. Crazy Eddie turned out to be my best source of money,
though. I did some temporary home care for his shut-in aunt, whose dementia made her
sweet-tempered and befuddled one day and a screeching maniac the next. I sat
lookout while Eddie and a friend stole some cash and home brew from a guy who
was an even bigger thief than they were. And, most troubling, I got asked to
scrub down an apartment where a friend of a friend had blown his brains out
after one heartbreak too many and more gin than any human had any business
drinking. That last job left me disturbed for days, never quite certain that
the stench of blood was gone from my clothes and hands. Nevertheless, the pay
was excellent and I could now call Cade and invite him for a beer and maybe
even a pizza. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I chose a quiet afternoon, sat down on my lumpy sofa, fought
back a sudden wave of shyness, and punched in his number, willing myself to
take deep breaths. Cade was a nice guy, totally harmless, and I wasn't hung up
on him or anything, so there was no reason in the world for my heart to be
racing as his phone rang and rang. Then I heard a click, and a voice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Hi, this is Cade Dermott. Please leave a
message."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned off my phone and threw it away from me in disgust.
Didn't it just figure that I would finally work up the courage and the money to
call him, only to get his voice mail? I went to the window, leaned against the
sill and sighed. As a fisherman, Cade could be anywhere. Stupid of me to forget
that. He might be halfway around the world, chasing herring, and who knew when
he would return?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the sidewalk below, the ginger cat I had been feeding
strolled by. Craving a little companionship, no matter what its form, I grabbed
the bag of Friskies and my coat, and hurried downstairs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took a bit of coaxing, since the cat was still aloof, but I
made a kibble trail and soon had the cat lounging uneasily near my feet while I
sat on the steps and gazed at the cars and people going by. I didn't have
anything planned for the evening, but after building up my hopes for a possible
date with Cade, the thought of being alone or having to scare up some work
depressed me. Clearly I had been looking forward to seeing Cade again more than
I was willing to admit. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That would never do. I had bigger issues to deal with if I
was to ever get out of Cold Harbor. Forming an attachment here would only be a distraction. And since no way would
Cade want anything to do with me once he learned what I really was, maybe it
was for the best that he hadn't answered my call. We would only waste each
others' time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I rubbed the cat's ears, which he didn't seem to appreciate,
and got to my feet. I was just heading back inside when I ran into Father Cash
heading out. We both paused in the doorway staring at each other, and then
Father Cash put on his best benevolent priest's face and wished me a good day.
Before I could do more than stammer a "Same to you," he was gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wholly out of sorts now, I stomped up the stairs to my
flat. On the floor by the sofa, my message light was blinking. Arlo? Crazy
Eddie? Mouse, with a meth delivery for me to make?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I picked up the phone. It was Cade, returning my call.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-two.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-seven-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-10523153780814404792015-06-30T21:26:00.000-05:002015-07-07T21:45:20.148-05:00Chapter Seven, Part Two<div class="MsoNormal">
Luckily I had done laundry recently. I pulled on some clean black
denims and from the back of the closet, I pulled out a remnant of my previous
life: a cashmere sweater in a shade of cobalt that always made me think of
bluebirds and springtime. I brushed my teeth, swiped a comb through my hair,
added a little powder, mascara and lipstick, and my fifteen minutes were up. I
stepped inside my new shoes, threw on my coat and scarf, and headed out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I had run into Father Cash on the steps, I would've
considered it only my just desserts for being so confident last night that I
had no feelings for Cade. But the good priest didn't make an appearance, Cade
was patiently reading a newspaper at the corner store, and just like that, we
were off across town in his old pickup.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"How long have you been in Cold Haven?" he asked,
by way of conversation, as we navigated what passed for evening rush hour.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"About a year," I said. "I plan to leave as
soon as I can."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's not for everyone, that's for sure."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Not for anyone, more like." I adjusted the heater
vent nearest me so that it would warm my hands.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You meet an interesting cross-section of people here,
though. Seems like everybody is from someplace else."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"That's true," I agreed, but it's less like the
American Dream than what the cat dragged in. Present company excluded, of
course."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade grinned. "No need to reassure me on that point.
There've been days I wondered if I was the only person in town who wasn't
wanted for something back home."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's not as extreme as all that," I said, not
liking the drift of the conversation. "I think a lot of people who come
here are just disappointed with life."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well, this place sure won't cure that. Not unless you
approach it with the right attitude, at any rate."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By now we were on the east side of town, which wasn't
exactly richer than the west, but had a decidedly more genteel cast to it.
Instead of somber gray concrete and weathered clapboards, the buildings were of
red brick or tidy shingles. Shops and apartment buildings had clean windows and
sometimes a bit of rock art or wooden sculpture for landscaping. Shady
characters didn't lurk in doorways or on corners, and although drug and alcohol abuse were no less rampant here than in my own
neighborhood, this was not a place where you advertised your vices.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade navigated a few narrow streets, then pulled up to the
curb and killed the engine. "It's up the block," he said. "They're
too small to have their own parking lot."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shrugged. "I never mind a little bit of walking."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bricks of the building housing Luigi's Pastaria were
faded and buffeted by age, and on the inside, the dark hardwood floors had been rasped and polished, but still showed the faint marks of many decades of use. But the narrow dining room was redolent
of the warm aroma of garlic and had been furnished for modest charm in
unoriginal but tidy square tables covered with red-checked tablecloths. Candles
in glass jars flickered at each table, and the framed posters on the walls
depicted scenes of Rome
and the greats of Italian opera. It was the type of place I would've rolled my
eyes at in my previous life, but now I found the clichéd decor oddly
comforting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since there was no hostess to seat us, we took a table
underneath a photo of a bellowing Pavarotti and examined the menu cards tucked
into a little wire holder. As Cade had cautioned, the offerings were limited,
but it was all so much more than what I was in the habit of eating that my
stomach growled at the prospect of even a single slice of garlic bread.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I've been here a couple times for their lunch
specials," Cade said. "The spaghetti, lasagna and ravioli are all
pretty good."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What caught my eye was the chicken scaloppini, but it was
one of the more expensive dishes, so that wouldn't do. Neither would the
spaghetti, since ordering the cheapest item might imply that I doubted Cade's
ability to pay. So when the waitress came by, I ordered ravioli and a Coke.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You sure about that Coke?" Cade asked. He ordered
a carafe of Chianti.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I hope you're not trying to get me drunk," I
teased after the waitress left.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He shook his head. "I just think dinner should include
an adult beverage."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had no argument with that. The wine arrived quickly, along with a basket of garlic bread and cups of minestrone soup, so that by the
time our entrees were served, I was feeling warm and relaxed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As promised, the food was quite good, or maybe it had simply
been so long since I had eaten an average meal that almost anything would
have tasted like gourmet cuisine. Regardless, I was thoroughly enjoying my dinner
and the company when Cade brought me up short.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Tell me about Father Cash."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stared at him over a mouthful of garlic bread, and reached
for my napkin so I could wipe my chin. "I told you pretty much all I know
at the funeral, I think."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I mean, how's he doing? Has he had any luck reaching
Sella's mother?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shook my head and reached for my wine. "He says he's
been trying, and that it's not like Lena to go incommunicado, but I have to
wonder how hard he's really looking. I mean, I offered to go to the library and
do an internet search, but he blew me off. If he was really serious..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade nodded. "He'd try anything. I know I would, if it
was my sister."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"He thinks there's some sort of conspiracy going on and
that Sella's death wasn't an accident."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Really?" he leaned back, startled. "It looked
like an ordinary suicide to me, and I've seen a few."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shrugged. "I've tried to reassure him, but I think
it's his Catholic guilt getting in the way. Suicide is a sin, you know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"So is fornication, but from what you've told me, I
don't have the impression the good father is terribly worried about that
one."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Say enough Hail Marys, and I'm sure it will all get
taken care of. But if you're dead, that option is off the table." I returned
my attention to my ravioli.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I guess I can see that." Cade frowned.
"Didn't Catholics use to pass off suicide as mental illness, so they could
say the person didn't die a sinner?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I tried suggesting that, but it didn't go over well.
He's pretty married to the idea that it was foul play, and that Sella's mother
was a victim of it, too."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"People don't get murdered for no reason." Cade pointed
out. He ate the last bite of his lasagna and pushed the plate aside. "Were
they involved in drugs or something?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Not that I know of." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Domestic?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought about Sella's cryptic diary entry. "That's
always a possibility, but nothing I've seen so far has me convinced."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade leaned forward. "Sounds like you know more than
what you're telling."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I finished my ravioli and reached for my glass of wine. I
took a good long sip before answering. "Not really, and why are you so
curious?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked away. "It sucks to pull a dead girl out of
the water. It's the sort of thing you want to attach a meaning to, even if
there probably isn't one."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded. Without intending to, he had described Father Cash's
dilemma. "That's probably why it's easier for her uncle to call it murder
than admit that she wanted to die, and nothing he could do made any
difference."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"He thinks he failed as both a priest and as an uncle."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Maybe in his own mind," I said. "But failing
at playing Sherlock Holmes isn't going improve matters."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Agreed." Cade signaled to the waitress.
"Tirimisu and coffee?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Where would I put it?" I asked. "I'm so full
I could burst."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade asked for the check and after he had given the waitress
his credit card, he turned back to me. "What if he's on to something,
though? Father Cash, I mean."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Are you
serious? You said yourself that it looked like an ordinary suicide."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes, but..." he shrugged, "What if it's
not?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"If it's not, then the cops need to handle it," I
said. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No point looking for trouble," he agreed, and I
couldn't tell if he meant it or not. The waitress brought the credit card slip
and although I tried not to look, I couldn't help noticing that he tipped
generously. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We all need to earn a living," he said, noticing
where my gaze had drifted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Indeed we did, and I cast a furtive glance at my watch. Although
we had been out longer than I had planned, there was still plenty of time to
hunt down Arlo or Crazy Eddie and see if I could make a buck or two.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I assume you don't want me to take you home,"
Cade said as we left the restaurant. "The store, then?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had been wondering throughout the meal if he was going to
try to leverage dinner into something more, even though nothing in what I had
seen so far suggested he was that type. I was surprised to feel a little sad,
though, when he obediently let me out in front of Lucky's without so much as an attempt at
a kiss, and just a cheerful, "Thanks for the company."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I enjoyed it," I said, and I meant it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We should do it again sometime."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We will," I promised. "I'll call."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He smiled like he wasn't sure if he should believe me or
not. "You have my number."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/07/chapter-eight-part-one.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-seven-part-one.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-8295836024906343112015-06-23T21:18:00.000-05:002015-06-30T21:26:56.467-05:00Chapter Seven, Part OneThe next morning I woke up groggy and hung over after a
late night at the pub wasting my meager earnings from a drug handoff. I had a stale,
bitter taste in my mouth and no toothpaste, so after counting my spare change,
I threw on some jeans and a sweater, and headed to the corner store. There were
only two brands of toothpaste to choose from, and I was puzzling over the merits of
gel versus tartar control, when I heard a familiar voice.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Judith! How have you been?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Didn't it just figure Cade would turn up here, of all
places, when my hair was uncombed and my breath smelled like a sewer?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Uh, hi. Doing great. Busy. Work, life..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Don't I know it?" He grinned like he hadn't even
noticed that I hadn't been in touch. "I found a great spot for herring -
one of my crew has a sixth sense for that sort of thing - but it's meant a lot
of long hours bringing it in before anyone else finds it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn't have much to say about this, since I knew nothing
of fishing. "That's great, uh...congratulations." I grabbed a tube of
toothpaste and glanced toward the counter. "It's been great running into
you like this, but I need to go."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead of taking the hint, Cade followed me to the cashier.
"Have you had dinner yet? I know it's kind of early, but there's a little
Italian place just opened on the other side of town. Very small, informal,
limited menu but what they've got is as good as anything I've had back home in Portland."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dinner? I suppressed an urge to laugh. What would he think
if I told him I had hadn't even had breakfast yet? He'd lump me in with every other loser in this town, no doubt. "It's a nice idea,
but..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Just as friends. My treat."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was sliding coins across the counter and the cashier met
my eyes, then glanced away with a little twitch of his shoulders, as if to say I might as well. And who
was I kidding? Unless some work came through quick, this was probably my best
shot at a decent meal for today. "I should at least fix myself up a
little."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You look fine," he assured me. "It's really very
casual."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No," I insisted. "If you're going to treat
me to dinner, the least I can do look like a girl worth being seen in public
with. I'll have to meet you somewhere, though. It wouldn't be appropriate for
you wait outside my apartment."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You in the witness protection program or
something?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a smart-ass remark, but said with such gentle good
humor that I smiled. "How about I
meet you back here in fifteen minutes?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade gave a little shrug. "Works for me. I still
haven't gotten what I came for, anyway. But I have one condition. Give me your
phone number this time, so I can text you if you take longer than expected."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'll let you know if I'm running late," I assured
him, but I gave him my number anyway, and nervously watched as he added it to his
contacts. I was committed now. "I'll see you in a few," I said, and
darted out the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-seven-part-two.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-six-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-64573264533072628042015-06-16T21:33:00.000-05:002015-06-23T21:19:17.638-05:00Chapter Six, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like last time, Father Cash was hungry to talk about Sella afterward.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I know you think I'm crazy, Judith, but there really
is something going on. Something ominous."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I can see why it might look that way," I mumbled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"If Sella's death were the only part of it, I might
agree with you, but—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I know, Lena is incommunicado, and that's out of
character." I pulled myself out of his embrace. "You sure are good
with the pillow talk these days."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ignoring my words, he sat up and swung his feet out of bed.
"There's something I think you need to see."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He padded into the other room and returned a few minutes
later with a leather-bound book the color of dark cherries. A page had been
bookmarked with a receipt and he handed it to me. "Read that, then tell me
you don't think she was running from someone."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took the diary and it found it smooth and surprisingly heavy
for its size, with thick creamy pages. I opened it to the marked section, and after a brief
glance at the receipt (a 16 oz. Coke and packet of peanuts) I read the entry.
Sella's handwriting was tidy and stylish - almost a calligraphy. After reading
the entry twice, I handed it back. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She felt threatened. She was running from someone," Father Cash said,
giving me a pointed look.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You might call it that," I said cautiously.
"But it's pretty vague."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"'I have to get away. I have no choice any more,'"
he read. "What's so vague about that?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lay back among the covers and sighed. "Only that she
was a teenage girl, and teenage girls see the drama in everything: a zit, a bad
grade, not enough pepperoni on a pizza..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Judith..."<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm not saying it couldn't be something bigger than
that. It's just that I was a teenage girl myself, not so long ago, and you're
going to need more evidence than that one page to convince me." I frowned.
"Is there more?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash turned away. "I see we're not going to get
very far with this." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While he returned the diary to wherever he had been stashing it,
I sat up and started pulling on my clothes, wondering if he was pissed at me
again. What a waste of time this afternoon had been.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When several minutes passed and Father Cash still had not
returned, I wandered into the living room, where I found him wrapped in a faded
bathrobe, watching the documentary again with the sound off. "I'm
sorry," I told him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He shrugged in answer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I really am concerned about Lena," I told him.
"If you give me her full name and an address, I can go down to the library
tomorrow and use their computers to do an internet search."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No need."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stood silent, pondering. "Well," I finally said,
"If you find out anything more, anything that might bolster your theory, I
really would be happy to help, it's just that in the absence of any other
evidence—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I know. You've made yourself very clear."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Fine," I said. "You know where to find
me." I let myself out and trudged up the stairs. To hell with him. Maybe I
would call that nice fisherman, after all. Or better yet, maybe I'd just call
Arlo. Rent would be due soon and I could use a little work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-seven-part-one.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-six-part-one.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-7838341592491669082015-06-09T21:46:00.000-05:002015-06-16T21:34:22.416-05:00Chapter Six, Part One<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course I didn't call him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the next few weeks I settled back into my usual routine
of making drug deliveries and turning tricks, earning enough to keep the bills
paid, plus a little left over for a new-to-me pair of shoes from the thrift
store. Thinking I might raise some steady money, I applied for a waitress
job at one of the chowder shops but never got a call back. I began feeding a
stray cat in the hope that it might intimidate some of the rats that hung
around the back stoop of our apartment building where the garbage was
collected for weekly pickup. And in an attempt to brighten my dismal flat, I bought
a nasturtium, guaranteed to grow, and put it on my living room windowsill.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most importantly, though, I tried to reconcile with Father
Cash.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn't an easy decision. If life had taught me anything, it was to avoid lopsided relationships and not let anyone think I might need them more than they needed me. But Father Cash had been kind and probably would have been no less
generous with food and quilts if I had never allowed him into my bed. And so I
gathered a few coins and dollar bills, bought some peanut butter and Ritz
crackers, and waited, reading by the window, until I saw him coming up the
walk. When I knocked on his door a few minutes later, I hardly knew what to
expect, but after what seemed a long time, he finally answered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Hello, Judith."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His posture was stiff and erect. His voice was gentle, but he didn't smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I held up the plastic grocery bag. "I know it's
supposed to be a casserole, but I thought I'd spare you my attempts at cooking and
bring you something edible."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"That's very thoughtful of you, but—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Just let me in, would you?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He stepped out of the way, but he wasn't happy about it. I
set my offerings on the scuffed and blemished coffee table and looked around. Nothing had changed
much, except for a cardboard box in the corner that I assumed contained Sella's
things. "How have you been?" I asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"About as well as can be expected."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No luck reaching Lena?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash shook his head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Surely she has friends or an employer who—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"There's no need to pretend that you care,
Judith."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned on him in exasperation. "I'm not pretending
anything. Just because I don't want to follow you on a goose chase doesn't mean
I'm not sad about what happened or concerned about you. You're my friend."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our eyes locked and he looked away first. "I was just
getting ready to watch a Ken Burns documentary. You're welcome to stay."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It wasn't what I had in mind, but since I didn't have a TV
or laptop, a show of any kind was a treat. I settled in on the sofa and
accepted a glass of greenish wine and a Ritz cracker. The documentary was,
appropriately enough, about the Great Depression, and the black and white
vistas of blowing dust put me in no fit frame of mind to deal with what Father
Cash said when he finally spoke again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It was very inappropriate of you to flirt at my
niece's funeral." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a moment all I could do was stare. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You were rather taken with that fisherman."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"He seemed like a nice guy." I reached for a
cracker. "But if making polite conversation counts as flirting, then I
guess I flirt with everyone." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's okay," he said. "You're young, far from
home, and in a precarious position. Of course you want a relationship with
someone close to you in age; a provider who can give you a little
stability."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I do want stability," I told him, offended now.
"But I have no intention of latching on to a man to get it. I can
straighten things out for myself."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I see." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He turned back to the television, and so did I. A few
minutes later, though, he hit the mute button. "You need to decide what
you want, Judith. That young fisherman is the sort who wants a girl he can
marry, and you—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I know what I am," I snapped. "And I have
had no contact with him since the funeral. He gave me his number, but I didn't
call it. He asked for mine, but I refused. I wouldn't even let him bring me
home, so he doesn't know where I live. If you want to make some kind of grand
romance out of that, go for it, but for now will you please drop it?" I
reached for the remote and turned the sound back on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a long time, it was just him and me, and the soothing
sounds of Ken Burns describing a long-ago catastrophe. Finally Father Cash
said, "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to offend."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes, you did," I said. "You're
jealous."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Maybe so, but I obviously have no right to be."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shrugged and reached for my wine glass. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"So since you aren't...involved with anyone, perhaps we
can kiss and make up."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why hadn't I seen this coming? I suppressed an inner sigh of
annoyance. "There's nothing to make up, and you were never much into
kissing, anyway."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You're right. We can skip the kissing."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took a big gulp of my sour wine and figured once a whore,
always a whore. I stood up and let him lead me to his bedroom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-six-part-two.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-five-part-three.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-7955116995290180662015-06-02T21:28:00.000-05:002015-06-09T21:46:42.037-05:00Chapter Five, Part Three<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we approached the iron gates of the cemetery, we filed in
behind the other cars in a motley procession that wound its way through the
plots. Since this was a relatively new cemetery, there were few markers, making
Sella's gravesite both a relief from the bare, flat land, and a monstrous thing
at the same time with its yawning pit torn from the tundra. A couple of people
were removing the flowers that had been at the church from one of the cars and
placing them around the head of the grave, offering the only spot of color for
miles around.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stepped out of the truck and immediately regretted having
gone to so much trouble to borrow a dress. The cold wind whipped my skirt and
chilled my legs, and the only things that kept me from jumping back in the cab
were Cade's encouraging smile and the sense that I needed to make a good
showing in front of Father Cash. Gritting my teeth and huddling in my coat, I
tried to find a place among the small knot of mourners where I would be blocked
from the worst of the wind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thankfully the priest didn't seem any more keen on the
weather than I was, and hurried through the little ceremony, in spite of the
annoyance in Father Cash's eyes. Well, what of it? We were all stomping our
feet and shivering, and nothing said on earth was going to help Sella
now. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Martinez asked if anyone wanted to say any words. Of
course Father Cash did, and strode to the head of the grave.
"Friends," he said, "Thank you for being here today." He
went on to tell us a little of Sella's history. "When she called me from
the bus station just a few short weeks ago, I went to meet her and found a girl
much changed. She was nurturing a great hurt and a great fear, but deep inside,
I know she was still the same sweet child. I believe that what happened on the
waterfront was more than what it appeared, and although God longs to have each
and every one of us by his side, this is not how He would have had it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few people in the crowd raised their eyebrows and Father Martinez
gave him a warning look.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Evil lurks in this world, and Satan tries to leave his
mark." He caught Father Martinez's alarmed expression and gave a tight
smile. "But we take comfort in knowing that evil cannot win, and even now
Sella has her victory in the arms of her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Amen," Father Martinez said firmly. "Would
anyone else like to speak a few words?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ducked my head, hoping frantically that Father Cash
wouldn't expect me to say anything. I had hardly known the girl, and my last
attempt at public speaking had been in eighth grade.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To my surprise, Cade spoke up beside me. "If I may,
Father."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The crowd parted to let him approach the coffin, and Father Cash
stepped aside with chilly good manners. Cade hardly seemed to notice, and
turned to face the group.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm just a fisherman, and I don't always have the
right words for things," he said, "but when I found Sella in the
water, I felt like I was finding my own child. She was a beautiful young lady,
full of potential for happiness and good works, and it's a sad day when someone
like her is lost to us. The world can be a pretty mean place, and we need good,
kind, wise people to balance things out. Even though I never knew her alive, I
feel like she would have been one to tip the scales of good in our favor. Her
departure is a loss to us, and a gain to Heaven."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were nods of approval and a few amens as Cade returned
to his spot by my side and Father Martinez asked if anyone else wished to
speak. Getting no takers, he wrapped things up as quickly as he could, much to
Father Cash's annoyance. After we had all filed past the lowered coffin for the
last time, Father Cash took him aside with a frown, and I turned expectant eyes
on Cade.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I want to talk to him a minute," he said, gazing
in Father Cash's direction.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just my luck. A conversation with him right now could easily
turn into a grilling as to why I hadn't offered to share a reminisce about
Sella. "Could I go sit in your truck, then? I'm freezing."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade led me back to the truck and opened the door, still
casting glances toward the two priests, who were deeply absorbed in what appeared to be a tense conversation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It may be awhile," I warned him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yeah, he's pissed about something." With a sigh,
Cade went to the other side of the truck and got in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's just not how he would've done it," I said.
Cade cranked the engine and turned on the heater. I stretched my hands toward
the blast of warm air. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"How come he didn't perform the ceremony? Do Catholics
have rules about what churches a priest can use?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Not that I know of. It's just that Father Cash is
defrocked."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Oh." Cade put the truck in gear and we backed out
onto the cemetery road. "Do you know why?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried to suppress a smile. "He likes women a little
too much."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade gave a knowing nod. "That's got to be tough. He
should've gone protestant. They would've let him marry." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I don't get the impression one woman would've been
enough."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Old-school Mormon, maybe?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In spite of myself, I smiled, imagining Father Cash trying
to manage a bevy of wives. "I guess he missed his true calling."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"A lot of us do."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We both lapsed into silence and it was only as the gray
clapboards of town came into view that Cade remembered to ask where he was
taking me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You can drop me back at the church."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I don't mind taking you home."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hadn't been looking forward to walking in the cold in
Donna's thin dress, but that didn't mean I wanted Cade seeing the run-down
tenement where I lived, either. "Thanks, but the church is fine.
Really."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Suit yourself."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He drove to the church in such a state of silence that I wondered if he
was angry at me. But when he pulled up to the church door, he merely turned to
me with concern in his eyes. "You sure you don't want a ride home? I
really don't mind. I don't have anything else to do today."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a moment, I reconsidered. Surely he didn't think I was
well-off, so why should I be embarrassed at letting him see my poverty?
Nevertheless, I shook my head. "I'm going to pray a little while."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade grinned, but didn't challenge my lie. Instead, he
fumbled among some stray items in a cupholder and scribbled on a gas receipt.
"Here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took the slip of paper. It was his phone number.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Call me sometime. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."
Then, misreading my hesitation, he added, "Just as a friend. I haven't met
very many people here who I'd like to know better."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Me, either."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Can I get your number, too?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No." I reached for the door handle. "It's
nothing personal, I swear. And I'll call you. I promise."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I jumped out of the truck and darted into the church, my
heart pounding. Wasn't it just my luck that in this, of all places, I'd meet a
nice guy. And wasn't it my rotten luck as well that I wasn't the type of girl
he should be getting mixed up with. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-six-part-one.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-five-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-87636073627091780082015-05-27T13:48:00.000-05:002015-06-02T21:29:38.404-05:00Chapter Five, Part Two<div class="MsoNormal">
I had already decided that I wasn't going to go to the
graveside. I felt too awkward and had no love for the misery of standing outside in the cold.
Nevertheless, when Cade asked after the service if I was going, I hesitated. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You can ride with me, if you don't mind my truck's a
little messy and smells like fish."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was at that moment Father Cash walked up to us. Betraying
nothing in face or manner of our earlier falling out, he took my hands in his.
"I'm so glad you came, Judith."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You knew I would be here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He gave a tight little smile and turned to my companion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"This is Cade Dermott," I said. "One of the
fishermen at the pier that day."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash shook Cade's hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm sorry for the way all this came about," Cade
said, "But I feel privileged to finally meet you. You've done good work in my
neighborhood."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm just the hands and feet; the Lord does the
work," Father Cash said. "Thank you for all that you've done. I know
that can't have been an easy day for you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"That's for sure." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash turned to me. "The cemetery is too far to
walk, but I think there is room in Father Martinez's car for one more."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before I could answer, Cade spoke up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I told her she can ride with me, if she likes. My
pickup isn't much, but it does the job."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I held my breath, Father Cash looked from Cade to me
and back again. Then with that same polite smile and a glare of accusation in
his eyes, he said to me, "Whatever you like, Judith. You have the
directions?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I told him that I did, and he turned away. I stared at his
back as he headed toward the rear of the church and a little cluster of church
people who were waiting for him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You ready go?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked up into Cade's ice-blue eyes and saw only warmth.
"I think so."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The cemetery was a new one outside of town, at the end of a
bleak road off the main highway in and out of town. Cade's truck wasn't as
messy as he had warned, nor did it smell too offensive, although there was a
distinctly stale and fishy cast to the air. The heater worked, though, and I was grateful
to settle in and relax in the luxury of Cade's inconsequential talk punctuated
by silences that felt as comfortable as a pair of old slippers at the end of a
long day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I watched the landscape go by, I found my thoughts
drifting toward home. Like Sella, I had left a green and sunny place, trading
it for this brown tundra, and just like her, I was letting it kill me. Yes, I
was physically safe, but did that really count for much when I wasn't truly
free? Poverty could confine as much as any coffin or jail cell, perhaps even
more. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Where are you from, originally, Judith?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had Cade been reading my mind again?
"South," I said. Then, in the hope of distracting him from further
inquiries, I added, "You?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Maine."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You're a long way from home, and not much
warmer."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade grinned. "That's for sure. I used to work in
lobster. Tried to make a go of being independent, but I had a few
setbacks."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"So you came here instead?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's not as crazy as you think. I could've stayed in
the northeast and worked for one of the big fishing corporations, but this
place is wide open; only a couple big guys, and lots of ways to make a name for
yourself."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded slowly. "Make your fortune, then go back
home?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"That's the plan, unless it changes."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I can't imagine wanting to stay here any longer than
necessary."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade gave a little shrug. "I've seen prettier places,
but life is what you make it." He waved a hand in the direction of the
dun-colored landscape. "Even this has its uses, and in the right hands, I
bet it could be made pretty nice, too."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This made me smile. "You're an optimist."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No point living any other way. Seeing the gloom in
everything is just a fast track to dying."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had nothing to say to this, and returned to gazing out the
window.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/06/chapter-five-part-three.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-five-part-one.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-8820663851899248442015-05-19T22:22:00.000-05:002015-05-20T06:28:30.738-05:00Chapter Five, Part OneWhether he raised the funds somehow, or simply cajoled the
right people, I'll never know, but Father Cash managed to get a full Catholic
service at St. Ignatius. I had heard from some of the locals that the little
church near the center of town wasn't named after the Ignatius who founded the Jesuits,
but after the one who was fed by the Romans to wild beasts. This felt
appropriate to me as I walked up the jagged stone walk in my badly-fitting, borrowed dress,
unsure of my welcome but well aware of Father Cash's resentment.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stepped inside and paused a moment in the gloom to examine
the row of votives in red and green glass holders. Although I wasn't
Catholic, the intimacy of the close room and flickering lights calmed me. I removed my hat, shoved it
in the pocket of my jacket, and headed into the nave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw no one I knew, not even Father Cash, and for a moment
I wondered if I was at the wrong funeral. I had forgotten to look for a program
on my way in, but there was a sign with a photograph and flowers by the closed
coffin at the front of the church, so I made my way forward, as self-conscious
as though this were my own funeral and I was sneaking in, hoping to go
unnoticed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The enlarged photo of Sella showed a pretty girl of about
nine or ten, wearing a pink dress and beaming at the camera. Father Cash must
not have had a more recent picture, and Sella probably hadn't brought any
photos with her in her flight from home. I gazed into the brown eyes of the
honey-skinned little girl and wondered how such a cheerful-looking child became
in just a few short years the sullen, nearly catatonic teenager who could
barely stir herself from Father Cash's sofa. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Life is full of strange turns."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked around and was met by the same arresting blue gaze
I had seen on the dock when they brought Sella's body to shore. "You read
my thoughts."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fisherman shrugged his heavy shoulders in their boxy
jacket. "It's the obvious conclusion in a situation like this." He
stuck out his hand. "Cade Dermott. Sorry I didn't properly introduce
myself the first time."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I think we were both a little preoccupied." I
shook his hand. "Judith McGillum. I'm Father Cash's neighbor."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cade nodded. "I wondered what the relationship
was."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn't sure how to answer this, and just then the music
started. I glanced around for any clues that there were special seating
arrangements.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I think we can sit anywhere," Cade said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course. With no friends or family of the deceased, other
than Father Cash, why not let people sit where they wanted? Lacking any better
ideas, I followed Cade to a pew a few rows from the front, empty except for a
couple of thin gray women at the far end, who looked to be recipients of Father
Cash's charitable efforts. We took our seats, and Cade removed a spindled
program from his pocket. I glanced over his shoulder and saw that it would be a
fairly simple ceremony. As simple as the Catholics could make it, that is, what
with the full Mass and all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was searching my memory, trying to remember a few of the
responses to the Mass from the couple of times I had been to a Catholic service
back home, when a movement at the front of the church caught my eye. Father
Cash, solemn in a black suit but not daring to wear his renegade priest's
collar, had emerged from a room behind the altar and was taking his seat on the
front pew. I wondered if he had seen me, then let the thought pass. No doubt he
was worrying about his sister and wishing he had the authority to perform
today's ceremony himself. I was the farthest thing from his mind, and that was
for the best.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beside me, Cade leaned in and whispered in my ear.
"That's the uncle, right?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I've seen him around my neighborhood. Nice guy. Brings
food to people who are old and can't get out."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded again, but although my gaze was fixed firmly on
Father Cash, it was Cade that I was thinking of. He was warm and solid, his
muscles tight underneath the cheap suit. I had been with so many men for money
since arriving in Cold Haven that I had thought myself immune to them, but
there was something about Cade's presence that calmed and comforted me, as if I
were one of those flickering votives in the vestibule; a weak light with only a
little warmth, but still real, still alive. Had the moment continued even a
second longer, I might've slipped my hand into his like a child thirsting for
comfort and connection. Instead, Father Cash turned his head and locked eyes with mine. I
sucked in my breath, grabbed the nearest hymnal, and cast my eyes on the first
page I opened it to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How great are the works of the Lord.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Next>></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-four-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-17073765175300946052015-05-12T22:14:00.000-05:002015-05-19T23:55:24.380-05:00Chapter Four, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I used to have nice clothes; things that would've been
appropriate for a funeral. But most of what I didn't leave behind, I had long
since sold, leaving me in a quandary over what to wear to Sella's funeral.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The service would be small, and limited to Father Cash and
the neighborhood rabble, so it wasn't as if a high standard of dress would
be required. Nevertheless, for the first time in a year, I found myself peering
into a mirror and actually giving a damn what I looked like. I told myself it
was just because it wasn't proper to go to a funeral looking like the whore and
drug mule that I had become, but the issue ran deeper than that. Although
Father Cash had informed me of the time and place for the service, he hadn't
exactly invited me, either. He had merely left a note of the date and time,
stuck to my door with a piece of tape.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I couldn't not go to this thing, but I couldn't show up in
boots, faded leggings, and a jacket. I needed to look like I cared enough to
wear my best, and my best sucked. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had just gotten my heat turned back on, otherwise I
would've probably bought something appropriately
solemn at the thrift shop. Lacking that option, I called Arlo. It took him a
few rings to answer, and when he did, he sounded hung over, so I got straight
to the point.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I've got a funeral I've got to go to today," I
said. "I got nothing to wear."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Arlo muttered something that sounded like, "Not my
problem."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yeah, well, I was wondering if you could float me some
cash. Just enough to buy, you know, a dress or something."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I don't do loans. You know that."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well..." I thought fast. "I meant like, if
you've got something I could do for you tonight, you can maybe pay me now, more
like an advance..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Don't do advances, either."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sighed in frustration and tried to think if I had any
other arguments I could bring to bear. Before I could give up and tell him
thanks for nothing, Arlo spoke again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Come over. We'll figure something out."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This sudden shift was in some ways more disconcerting than
his earlier refusal. Arlo never fucked his subordinates, so I knew I wouldn't
have to worry about that, but did he have some even more unpleasant task for
me? Lacking other options, I told him I'd be right over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time I got to Arlo's little walk-up over a liquor
store, I had allowed so many crazy scenarios to populate my mind that I almost
turned around and went home, clothes be damned. But I hadn't walked all this way
in the cold just to leave empty-handed, so I knocked. After a moment,
there was a shadow at the peephole, and then a scrabbling at the lock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The door opened and instead of Arlo, I saw his skinny
girlfriend, Donna. She was tousle-haired and bare-faced, with only a smudge of gooey
lip gloss on her fleshy lips to indicate she had made any effort at her appearance. She let me into
the room and motioned toward an item on the sofa. "Arlo says you need a
dress."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She said it with such piercing contempt that I considered telling her
to keep her dress and go fuck herself, but that would've pissed off Arlo, who
had obviously leaned on Donna for this favor. I couldn't afford to get on the
bad side of anyone who could get me some work, no matter how degrading, so I
picked up the black dress and held it out in front of me to see if it would
fit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's all I got for a funeral," Donna said.
"I want it back by tonight, and if you mess it up, you buy me a new
one."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Right."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She opened the door again. "See you later."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I folded the dress and forced a smile as I left, but once
the door had slammed behind me, I wadded it up and shoved it into my satchel.
The apartment had been too dark for me to assess it properly, but I could tell
by touch that the fabric was thin and cheap, hardly worth Donna's protective
attitude.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I got home and could examine it more closely, I was
even more annoyed. The dress was clean but faded, with pilling around the underarms and
back of the skirt. It also needed ironing, and of course I had no iron. I did
have gas again, though, so I heated a clean skillet on the stove, spread the
dress on a table with a towel for padding, and did the best I could to get out
the wrinkles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Once on, the dress's other shortcoming was revealed.
Although it seemed to fit well enough, it had been constructed badly and with
every movement, the seams moved and the bodice twisted, so that I had to
periodically grab the skirt and jerk the dress back into place. In the mirror,
though, this defect wasn't immediately obvious, and with some black tights and
boots, my hair neatly combed and a dab of lipstick, I figured I looked fairly
presentable, as long as the lights were dim. It was the best I could do,
anyway, so why worry? I grabbed a hat, scarf and jacket, and headed to the
church.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-five-part-one.html">Next>></a><br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-four-part-one.html"><<Previous </a><br />
<br />Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-4217431996032266562015-05-05T21:17:00.003-05:002015-05-12T22:15:21.360-05:00Chapter Four, Part One<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm sure it was an accident," I told Father Cash,
as he sat at the end of the narrow sofa that just this morning had been Sella's
bed. "She was enjoying the waves and the seagulls, and her foot
slipped."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He rubbed his eyes but refused to look at me. "It's
very thoughtful of you to reassure me, but lying is a sin. Either Sella was
killed or she wanted to die."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Wanting to die and committing suicide aren't the same
thing. Maybe it was an impulsive act, or she simply made a situation and let it happen."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She had stones in her pockets and her ankles
were tied together. That's hardly 'letting it happen'."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had nothing to say to this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"If someone murdered that sweet girl...."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Why would anyone around here want to murder her? She
knew no one but us. And besides, if someone wanted to drown her, they would've
tied her arms and her legs, but only her legs were tied. She could've done that
herself."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"But that would mean she took her own life."
Father Cash shook his head. "That's a very grave sin."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first instinct was to point out that no one, not even the
pillars of his useless religion, had ever held back from doing what they wanted
just because it was a sin. The pain on his face was so genuine, though, that I
edged closer and reached for his hand, struggling to find words that were both
honest and kind. "Even if she sinned, it was because she wasn't in her
right mind. I'm sure Jesus understands."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash pulled away. "You know nothing about
Jesus."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So much for honesty and kindness. "Look, we can wonder all day long, but without any evidence one way or the
other—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Exactly." He turned on me, his eyes welling
with angry tears. "She left no note. She didn't put her things in order. She
went out expecting to be right back. Something bad is going on."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Perhaps so," I said, more to quiet him than
because I agreed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We have to find out who did this, and why."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Clearly he was out of his mind. Even if Sella had been
murdered, which I doubted, playing detective was a dangerous game. "That's
what the cops are for, you know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He waved a dismissive hand. "Those incompetents
say it's a suicide."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Maybe you should hire a detective, then."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Don't mock me, Judith. You know I have no money. I
don't even know how I'm going to pay for the funeral."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He had gone to the window by now, where he pulled back
a corner of the industrial brown curtain to gaze out at the darkness. I stared
at his back, wondering if I should ask the obvious question. He solved the
problem for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I tried to reach Lena..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Still no luck." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash shook his head and let the drape fall back into
place. "I know you think I'm imagining things, but how can I not think something is very wrong when my sister falls off
the earth and her daughter turns up in this forsaken place, only to end up
dead a few weeks later?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I can see how that would worry you," I admitted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Worry?" He came over and took my hand with haunted earnestness. "Judith, my sister is a kind, gentle woman, who wouldn't
just disappear for no reason. And Sella was a good kid, who would never run
away from home unless something terrible had happened."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I held my breath, knowing whatever I said, it would be the
wrong thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Please help me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our eyes locked, and it was I who looked away first.
"I'm sorry, but if I knew how to unravel someone else's life, I'd fix my
own, first."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash dropped my hand. "Of
course."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His cool tone chilled me like a Cold
Haven wind. "I'm flattered that you asked. Really. It's just
that—"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You can't. I understand." He started toward the
door. "It's probably time for you to go. I'm tired, and there's a lot for
me to do."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took a few tentative steps toward the door,
which he was now holding open for me. Clearly he didn't intend for me to linger. "If you want, I can come back
tomorrow and help you go through her things."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash forced a smile that didn't extend to his eyes.
"Thank you, dear, but I know you're busy, and it's something I should do
myself."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He closed the door behind me, and after a confused moment
standing on his battered welcome mat, I headed up the stairs. I was almost to
my own flat when I realized just how angry he really was. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He hadn't offered me his usual priestly blessing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-four-part-two.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-three-part-two.html"><<Previous </a></div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-44255762763090207762015-04-28T18:41:00.000-05:002015-05-05T21:18:18.199-05:00Chapter Three, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I called Arlo first, of course, since he had seen her with
me that one time and knew what Sella looked like. Then I called a few other
people I knew in the area - Gary
at the pub, Lindo the grocery store manager, Mouse, who ran a meth lab, and
Crazy Eddie, who didn't specialize in any particular activity and was up for
anything. No one had seen Sella, they all promised to keep an eye out, and I
didn't believe any of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was leaving voice mail for Manny, who trafficked in stolen
goods, when I remembered the dock. Would Sella have gone down to the water
again? Maybe she got caught up in her nautical daydreaming and lost track of
time. Since I hadn't taken off my coat or shoes, I grabbed my keys, locked up
and hurried out into the evening cold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were a lot of quick ways to the docks, but since I
didn't know if Sella had a good sense of direction, I retraced our steps from a
few days prior; past the grocery store with grimy windows and sign promising
special prices on cigarettes, the pub with its strains of country music and
faint odor of fish, and into the seedy dockside neighborhood of pawn shops,
cheap apartments and derelicts. A panhandler with a matted beard glanced my
way, but we had seen each other around and he knew better than to call out for
spare change. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The sun was setting and a bitter wind gusted through the narrow
streets. I wrapped my coat more tightly against my body and wished I had
brought my gloves. Of all the places I could've run to when the shit hit the
fan back home, what was I thinking when I chose Cold Haven? Surely I could've
hidden out just as easily in the Florida Keys, or maybe West Texas or New Mexico. But I had
been in a panic, and it made me stupid. I escaped to the first place I could
think of where I wasn't likely to be tracked. If I had it to do all over again,
or if I could just scrape together enough money for bus fare and a little
starter money, I would hop the next Greyhound south, and to hell with the
risks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was deep in thought
when someone called my name. It was Scary Carrie, with her limp blonde hair,
paper-thin skin and premature wrinkles. From past conversations, I suspected
she was my age, but she looked at least forty-five and her fondness
for heavy black eyeliner didn't improve matters.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She leaned against a door frame and took a drag on her
cigarette. After blowing a desultory trickle of smoke out of the corner of her
mouth, she asked again where I was going. "Little early in the evening for
a trick. You holding?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had made the mistake early on of sharing a stash with her
and now whenever she saw me she expected a repeat. "If I was, it wouldn't
be for giving away," I told her. "And it's never too early for a
customer. Just got done with one about an hour ago."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Carrie raised her over-plucked brows and sucked on her
cigarette. "And here you are on the street again. Rent must be due."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I so did not need this. Carrie could be nice enough when she
chose, but it was always a passive-aggressive thing, with the bottom line being
what you could do for her. "Well, it's nice running into you, but I got to
get down to the dock while there's still a little light out."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She ground her cigarette into the door frame. "You
heard about it, too, huh?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I felt a little chill that had nothing to do with the
weather. "Heard what?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Some kids found a body. Last I
heard, a couple cops and some fishermen were trying to get it out of the water,
but it's stuck on something."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's not a female, is it? Teenage girl?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Carrie shrugged her bony shoulders. "How the hell
should I know?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Right. See you around." As I turned back toward
the docks, I thought I heard her call, "You sure you ain't holding?"
but by now my mind was in a panic and my feet followed suit. By the time I
reached the pier and its crowd of curious onlookers, I was running full-tilt
and nearly collided with a heavy-set man who I'd seen from time to time hanging
around the cheap chowder shops. I stumbled and tried to duck around him but he grabbed me by
the arm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Hold on, there. Cops are trying to keep people
out."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Right. Someone drowned." I tried to pull
free.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well, there's too many people down there, getting in
everyone's way."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"What business is it of yours?" I wrenched myself
away, but he jumped in front, blocking me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You're one stubborn bitch, you know that?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yeah. You're the third person to mention it
today." I feinted and this time succeeded in darting past. Without looking
to see if the guy was trailing me, I hurried to the crowd clustered along the
dock and started working my way through, using my sharp elbows and a few
well-placed kicks.<br />
<br />
I finally reached a point where I could go no farther. Cops
and helpful fishermen had strung some heavy rope and were guarding it with a
menace more appropriate for a riot than group of onlookers who were merely
curious. I worked my way to a spot where I could make out a group of men doing
something with a net at the end of the dock. From time to time they called down
to someone in the water, adjusted their position and gave the nets a heave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Get off my foot, bitch."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn't even bother looking at the man who was speaking.
"Keep it out of my way, then." I moved my foot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You've got a nasty attitude, you know that? What's
your problem?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had I wanted to, I could've given the guy a laundry list of
problems, but right now, the only one that mattered was at the end of the dock,
where the fishermen were pulling something dark, heavy and teenager-sized out
of the gray water. Something with a blood-colored scarf that trailed, dipping,
out of the confines of the net, as if refusing to be brought to land.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The men guarding the rope were watching too, and I took
advantage of their distraction to slip past. I know they must have shouted at
me, but all I could hear was the pounding of my feet and the buzzing in my
brain as I ran down the pier. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The net was on dry land now, and the men were working the
body out of the tangles. One of them looked up at my approach, and I guess he
saw something in my eyes that hinted at my fears. For a moment the world
stopped spinning and I thought he might fix me to the spot forever with his glorious blue gaze. "Do you know her?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I forced myself to look, really look this time. No, I didn't
know her. None of us did. But that didn't mean I couldn't identify those
water-logged features. "Her name is Sella."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/05/chapter-four-part-one.html"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Next>></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-three-part-one.html"><<Previous</a><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-52643952200982484372015-04-21T21:32:00.000-05:002015-04-28T18:42:24.295-05:00Chapter Three, Part OneI didn't get back the next day. Or the next. Arlo had some
work for me, and I got a callback from a legitimate job I had applied for at a
pawn shop. The interview went beautifully until I asked if I could be paid off the books. Things took an awkward turn after that, but as I was leaving I ran into a
guy who I'd once gone to bed with for twenty dollars after a night of cheap
beer at the pub. He wanted to repeat the performance, and since he was offering
another twenty and I didn't find him particularly objectionable, I complied.
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I returned to my apartment later in the afternoon, two damp
tens wadded in my coat pocket, I found Father Cash waiting at my door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Don't you ever answer your phone?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His question and tone were so out of line with his usual
manner that I was taken aback. I had seen the missed calls, but hadn't thought
much of it. "I was with a customer."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He let out a sigh of frustration. "Sella is missing. I
had been hoping she was with you."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I fumbled for my key and opened the door, motioning Father
Cash inside. "No, of course she's not with me." I scrambled for
ideas. "Maybe she went to the store. I showed her where it was the other
day, and–"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She's been gone for hours!" It sounded like an
accusation. "There's no note, and I don't even know how to call her. If
she has a phone, I've never seen it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Could she have gone back home?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"All her stuff is here, except her coat."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Well, wherever she is, at least she's warm."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could tell from Father Cash's glare that
this was the wrong thing to say. "We could try calling the cops, report
her missing."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash paced my bare floor. "It's not considered a
missing person case unless one has been gone twenty-four hours or more."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We'll say it's desperate. She's a minor."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Borderline. If there's no reason to suspect foul play,
they don't bother with seventeen year-olds, especially runaways."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Tell them she's sixteen, then. You're not her dad. If they
find her and get mad, just say you misremembered how old she is."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a moment, Father Cash seemed tempted by the idea, but
then he shook his head. "If something bad happened, the cops in this town
will probably only make it worse."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I silently agreed. "How about I check with my contacts?
Put out a sort of informal APB?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Would you?" He turned to me, an absurd light of gratitude his eyes. "I'll do the same with mine, and if we find out nothing
by tomorrow..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"We'll call the cops, no matter how incompetent they
are." I finished.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes." He threw his arms around me and squeezed me
in a hug that nearly broke a rib. "Thank you, Judith."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then he hurried out the door, leaving me alone in the suddenly disquieting hush of my apartment.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-three-part-two.html">Next>></a><br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-two-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-25303582126798377532015-04-14T21:36:00.002-05:002015-04-21T21:33:10.882-05:00Chapter Two, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella was right about Cold Haven: there was nothing to look at, unless
one liked their world in shades of gray. From the steel of the unforgiving sky
to the grimy stone buildings and pitted asphalt of the streets, there was
no charm, no bright point of interest. Colors seemed a violation, as if they
had been outlawed by some unreasonably puritanical town council of many years
past. Even the few pedestrians who were about were dressed in dark muddy hues,
as if they had no higher ambition than to be part of the landscape.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grasping at anything, I headed left. "I'll show you
where the store is," I said. "You might be at home by yourself one
day and need something." Sella pouted but tagged along beside me
to the corner and across the street. "That's it." I pointed
needlessly to the sad-looking storefront. "Lucky's is
open 24/7. Crackers, chips, cookies, beer...there's coffee in the mornings, but
it sucks. You're better off asking your uncle to make some, if you want
caffeine."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella looked away, which I took for indifference, so we
continued on. There weren't many points of interest, but I did my best to tell
her about what little there was: the barbershop that never had customers and
was a front for drug-dealing, the pizza place that would only disappoint if one
had ever had a decent pizza anywhere else, and the grimy pub that always
smelled vaguely of fish. "They guys from the docks and the cannery like to
hang out here," I explained.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Are we near the water?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had become so accustomed to her silence that Sella's
question startled me. "It's a few blocks away. Do you want to go
there?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She didn't say yes, but there was a spark I hadn't seen in
her eyes previously.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's not much to look at," I warned. But since
she was still watching me with that oddly hopeful expression, I took her to the
next block and across the street. Getting to the docks meant going through a
blighted area of pawn shops, bondsmen, and liquor stores. Here the dope dealers
and street-walkers had their unmarked territories where they performed their
daily hustle, although they were thankfully few in number today. As we passed a
man passed out drunk in a doorway, I wondered if this had been such a good idea
after all. Father Cash would be pleased I had gotten Sella out of the house,
but he wouldn't be so happy about where I took her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was only confirmed a block later when a sallow man with
a thin mustache and a grimy knitted cap waved to me from a stoop.
"Yo, Judy! Got a little work for you if you want it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could sense Sella tensing up beside me, but I couldn't
ignore one of my best leads on drug hand-offs, so I gave Arlo a little wave.
"Uh...yeah, man. I'm showing a friend around, but I'll call you in a little
while."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Arlo grinned at Sella. “Welcome to the neighborhood, little
lady.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella mumbled something noncommittal and I grabbed her by
the elbow and steered her away. We continued on, and I waited for her
questions, that thankfully never came. Soon we were among the fishing gear
shops and dockside chowder dives, with the masts of a few docked boats visible
in the distance. The street made a jog to the right, broadened out, and there
in the distance was the iron-gray water, with a few fishing vessels bobbing at
the pier. Seagulls soared overhead and squabbled over trash near a well-fed ginger
cat who lounged in the satisfaction of being one of the few creatures to
actually thrive here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"The fishermen mainly go for herring," I told
Sella. "Or maybe it's sardines." It was a little embarrassing to have
lived here nearly a year without knowing what species of fish maintained the legitimate portion of the
local economy, but the girl paid me no mind and seemed transfixed by the dull water.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Can we go out there?" </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why anyone would want to get any closer to that filthy water
was beyond me, but since it was the first time I had heard her express any sort
of desire or preference, I nodded. Gulls sullenly moved out of our way as we
went out onto the dock, which was slippery with sea spay, fish slime, and who
knew what else. Sella walked out ahead of me, keeping her footing with
surprising ease. When we neared the end, a few boys in grimy baseball caps who
had cast their lines in hope of catching something edible, glared up at us but
said nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella ignored them, and stood for a long time gazing out to
sea, the ends of her red scarf fluttering on the breeze like a caress, the only color in a
world of gray. Not wanting to stare, I cast about for something worthwhile to
look at, occasionally stomping my feet from the cold and wishing I could hurry
Sella home so I could find out what kind of work Arlo had for me today. With
any luck, the pay would be sufficient to get my gas turned back on.<br />
<br />
Either my impatience communicated itself to her or she
finally grew bored with the dismal view and glanced my way. "Can we go back
now?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took her back down a different route, avoiding some of the
rougher blocks where I risked running into more of my contacts, or where we
might have even run into Father Cash, hunting up a little afternoon delight. It
was with an odd sense of relief that we reached our clapboard apartment
building, scarcely distinguishable from others like it, except for some
chipped trim that had at one time been green, and a crude representation of a
fishing boat carved into the mantel of the front entrance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went inside and climbed the creaking stairs to Father
Cash's flat, where Sella hesitated at the door, as if debating whether she
should invite me in. I had a contact to call, though, and headed off that
thought before she could speak. "I'll see you around, I guess."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella nodded, her hand on the door frame. "It was nice
to get out."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Sorry it's not much to look at, but we work with what
we've got."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her eyes met mine, and her lips parted as if she might say
something else, but no way could I get stuck here. Not when I needed money so
badly. If I didn't call Arlo soon, he'd give my gig away, and there was no
telling if anything else would come up today.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Gotta go now." I affected a brisk demeanor and a
cheery smile. "Let's do this again tomorrow or the next day, okay?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella looked away, an opportunity to communicate and maybe
connect, now past. "Sure. You know where I am." She closed the door.<br />
<br />
Feeling guilty as hell without knowing why, I pulled
my phone out of my jacket pocket, speed-dialed Arlo's number, and hurried up
the stairs, taking them two at a time.</div>
<br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-three-part-one.html">Next>></a><br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-two-part-one.html"><<Previous</a>Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-68517486194791317762015-04-07T21:18:00.000-05:002015-04-14T21:37:35.138-05:00Chapter Two, Part One<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was two days before I could make time for Sella. It
wasn't on purpose. Beggars can't be choosers and when I'm hungry, I do
what I have to do. The oxycontin was completely my fault, though, since no one
else made it slip out of the bundle I was delivering for a contact, and even
then, I didn't have to swallow it with a chaser of cheap gin. Some things are
just too big a temptation, though, and so it was that three days after Father
Cash's appeal, still a little foggy-headed, I climbed the stairs and knocked on
the door of his apartment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was no answer, of course. Father Cash was often out
during the day, spreading his seed and the word of the Lord.
Left to her own devices, it wasn't likely Sella would open the door to a
stranger, or even a neighbor. I thought of going back to my room and calling my
duty done, but that would only postpone the inevitable. Father Cash would soon come
pleading for my assistance, this time on his schedule instead of my own. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knocked again. "Sella! I know you're there. It's
Judith, from upstairs."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still no response.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Your Uncle Marcus said I could come for a visit, so
let me in."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Silence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I have nothing to do today. I can wait right here
until your Uncle Marcus comes. What do you think he'll say, Sella, when he sees
you wouldn't even come to the door?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When there was still no answer, I paced a little and
pondered. No way was I going to be out-maneuvered by a teenager. On an
inspiration, I scurried back to my apartment and returned a moment later with
an umbrella. Out of fairness, I gave Sella one last chance.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'm going to knock on this door without stopping until
your uncle arrives or you open up. Your call."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I sat down as comfortably as I could, and began swinging
the umbrella at the door. I fell into an easy rhythm where I could keep it up
with very little effort, letting gravity do most of the work. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took several minutes, but finally there was a scrabble at
the lock. I stopped swinging the umbrella and stood up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella opened the door just enough to peek out. "Go
away."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I can't do that, so why don't you let me in?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a tense hesitation in which she tried and failed to
stare me down, she turned away, leaving the door slightly ajar. I went inside
and walked over to the sofa, where Sella had already lain back down. Since
there was nothing I could say that wouldn't be awkward, I asked how she was
doing. In answer, she closed her eyes and turned her face away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"You uncle is worried about you. You know that,
right?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since I thought I detected a slight shrug in reply, I
continued. "You're not fooling anyone. Something is wrong at home,
otherwise you wouldn't have come here. We can't help you if you don't talk, and
if you don't want our help, you can at least get up and do something. Lying on
the sofa for weeks on end is no way to live." In the silence that
followed, I leaned in close. "You do want to live, right?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She turned her face back toward me and our eyes met.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Get up. We're going for a walk."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I said it in a tone that brooked no argument, and with a
sigh, she heaved herself off the couch and went to fumble in a small chest by
the window, where she took off her
robe, pulled on some jeans, and began dressing to go out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was going better than I had hoped. "A little fresh
air will do you some good. It'll just be a short walk. I bet you haven't even
gotten a chance to tour the neighborhood."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella paused in wrapping a crimson scarf around
her neck. "You don't need to play like this is some kind of tourist destination.
There's nothing to see out there."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was right, of course. "It'll be good for you,
nonetheless."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After she was ready, I took her upstairs with me so I could
get my coat. No way was I letting her out of my sight, having gotten this far.
She looked around my cold, bare flat with an expression I couldn't read, while
I tucked my hair under a knit cap. "I haven't got much, but it's
home," I said in a flimsy effort at good cheer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella gave a slight shiver.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went down the wooden staircase, with its musty odor of
damp, and out into the weak sunlight of afternoon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-two-part-two.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/03/chapter-one-part-three.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-87788432224480521992015-03-31T21:31:00.000-05:002015-04-07T21:18:47.820-05:00Chapter One, Part Three<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are some things one can get used to, and sex with men
who don't care about you is one of them. Father Cash had genuine regard for me,
though, and that was a problem. It wasn't so much the act itself; I knew what
he liked and could get him off pretty quick. It was the afterward that bothered
me, when he pulled me into his arms and toyed with my hair, murmuring about his
priestly vows and calling me his Magdalene. The first few times he had done
this, I tried debating him, but quickly found that this only encouraged him to
talk more about religion and our "relationship." The best way to not
feed his fantasies was to keep things all business.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tonight, though, he surprised me. "What am I going to
do, Judith?" He sighed and pulled me to his chest, where I could hear his
heart still beating fast. "I want to do right by Sella, but this isn't the
place for her."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She needs to go home," I agreed, hoping he hadn't
been thinking about his niece while he was fucking me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Something is wrong there, too."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Your sister."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes. I'm worried that she and Sella may both be in
danger." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Do they have enemies?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His body shifted under mine. "Lena is a good
Christian."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That didn't answer the question, and he knew it.
"There's always room for misunderstandings," I offered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash's arms clenched tightly around me, but it was
clear his mind was elsewhere. "There are evil people in this world."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mind drifted to the deceptions and lack of judgment that
had landed me here, selling any service I could offer. I crossed paths daily
with some of the most rabid degenerates in a town that was known for them, but
somehow I sensed that the evil Father Cash was thinking of ran deeper than a
little drug-dealing and prostitution. Without meaning to, I shuddered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Are you cold, dear?" His hands rubbed the
gooseflesh from my skin. "Before I turn in for the night, I'll bring you
an extra blanket."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started to protest, but then thought better of it.
Father Cash's greatest pleasure in life, besides women, lay in offering kindness.
And besides, what position was I in to refuse a gift of any kind? An extra
blanket would be welcome.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"What should I do about Sella? She can't lie on my
couch forever, and I can't look after her all day long."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Therapy?" As soon as I said it, I knew it
was the wrong thing. He had no money for fancy doctors. "I suppose I could
try talking to her, like you asked. Maybe get her outside for a walk or
something."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although I couldn't see his face, I knew Father Cash was
smiling. "I would consider myself greatly in your debt."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shifted so I could look at him. "No
guarantees. I'll do my best to draw her out, but if she doesn't want to
communicate, there's only so much I can do."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I understand," he said, his eyes ablaze with gratitude. "I know you'll do your very best."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sighed and lay back down in the circle of his arms, not
sure where his confidence in me came from, and feeling fairly certain I wasn't
worthy of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/04/chapter-two-part-one.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/03/chapter-one-part-two.html"><<Previous</a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-68422157891344262262015-03-24T22:43:00.000-05:002015-03-31T21:32:39.075-05:00Chapter One, Part Two<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was eight o'clock when I knocked on Father Cash's door,
one floor down from mine. I could smell the glorious aroma of soup from the hallway and I hoped he still intended to offer me some, even though I
was late.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Judith, what a nice surprise." Father Cash
winked. Apparently I was to pretend he hadn't invited me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stepped into the two-room apartment, grateful to be in a warm place after my chilly little flat. Not much had changed since the last
time I had been there; the furniture was sparse as a room in a seminary and the
gray walls were bare of all but a few crosses and a print of the Virgin Mary
holding a rose. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'd like you to meet my niece, Sella."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He led me to the sofa where a young woman lay under a mound
of faded quilts. She was a petite girl with tip-tilted eyes and skin so golden
compared to Father Cash's dark brown that I wouldn't have immediately guessed a
family relationship. "Hi Sella." I extended my hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"This is Judith McGillum," Father Cash told her.
"She's a friend from upstairs."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The girl took my hand lethargically but didn't speak. Her
fingers were as light and fragile as the bones in a bird's wing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Are you here for a visit, or do you intend to
stay awhile?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. No one comes to this
place unless they're running from something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sella dropped my hand and turned her face away. "She's
still deciding," Father Cash explained.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He brought me a chair and for the next several minutes I
tried to draw Sella out, but nothing I said elicited any response more cogent
than the occasional sigh. Finally at a loss, and distracted by the gurgle of my
empty stomach, I looked up at Father Cash and shrugged.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He had been standing nearby, watching in glum concern, and
now he came over and stroked Sella's hair. "You're tired today, aren't you
dear? Perhaps Judith can come again tomorrow while I'm making my rounds, and
the two of you can have a nice chat without Uncle Marcus in the way."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried not to show my alarm. I didn't have any deals,
tricks, or odd jobs lined up for the next day, but that didn't mean I wouldn't
take any if they were offered. Rent would be due soon and I still owed money on
the gas bill, if I hoped to get the heat turned back on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash must have read my thoughts because he changed
the subject before I could speak. "Have you eaten today, Judith?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I followed him into the nook off the main room that passed
for a kitchen, and waited while he ladled soup from a cooling pot on the
counter into a smaller pan that he then heated over the blue flame of his
two-burner stove. While I waited, I noted the empty bowl in the sink and a
still-full bowl, now cold, on the counter. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She wouldn't eat a bite," he said quietly, noting
where I was looking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took my bowl of soup from him and sipped at it hungrily
while he dug in a drawer for a spoon. "Don't take her behavior as a
comment on your cooking skills," I said. "You should've been a chef."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash gave an embarrassed smile. "Then who would
minister to the Lord's flock?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Jesus won the masses over with loaves and
fishes," I reminded him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes, he did, didn't he?" </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Don't get any ideas about converting me, though."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Of course not, dear. You're always very clear on that
subject."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded as I spooned the hearty soup, thick with beans,
onions and carrots, into my mouth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Would you like some to take upstairs with you?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I met his eyes over the rim of the bowl. Had Father Cash not
been so dark, he would've been blushing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I haven't been with a woman since Sella arrived,"
he went on, "and you did say earlier..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It crossed my mind to tell him I was booked, but Father Cash
always knew when I was lying. "It has to be my place, I guess."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He nodded. "So Sella won't know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/03/chapter-one-part-three.html">Next>></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/03/chapter-one-part-one.html"><<Previous </a></div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6432609644671549638.post-47990130497810119212015-03-18T08:27:00.000-05:002015-03-24T22:43:28.410-05:00Chapter One, Part One<div class="MsoNormal">
I had taken a pill the night before, otherwise I would've
heard him the first time. Father Cash had to knock twice, rapping at my door
with his bony knuckles until I emerged from the rare blessing of a hushed and dreamless
sleep.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Let me in, Judith."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'd been acquainted with Father Cash long enough to know he wouldn't
leave until he'd gotten what he came for. Priests, especially defrocked ones, could be aggravatingly persistent. I wrapped a blanket around myself and padded to
the door. "What do you want at this hour?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Almost one in the afternoon, I know. This northern climate is deceiving, isn't it?" Father Cash offered a crooked smile
as if to say he knew full well that it was more than just the gloom of the far
north that had kept me in bed so late. He pushed his way into my bare room and
stood rubbing his hands. "Is your heat out again, my child? I thought you
cleared that up with Mr. Landsdowne."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shrugged and went to put a kettle on the hot plate.
"Deal fell through. He let me keep the electricity for now, though."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Small blessings."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes." I wiped two mugs with a rag and when the
when the water was hot, offered Father Cash a cup. Whatever my faults, no one
could say I had bad manners. "Sorry no tea, but it'll warm you up, at
least."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Thank you, dear." He took the chipped mug in his
chillblained hands. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took my own cup and sat on the edge of my unmade bed with
my feet near the electric space heater. Father Cash was usually a regular
visitor, but I hadn't seen him for a few weeks and I still wasn't sure how I
felt about that. He was the closest thing I had to a friend in this town and
had been a useful ally when I arrived penniless and on the run, but I had no patience
for his religion or his occasional pleas for sex. I blew on my hot water and
savored the steam rising off of it. "You can sit down, you know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash started, then gave a nervous smile. "I've
come to ask a favor."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Does it have to be right now? I only just woke
up."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"No, not that." He took my one chair, pulled it up
to the bed and sat down. "Although I could use some of that, too, if
you're feeling better later."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To keep from having to answer, I took a sip of water.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I've had a visitor for the last couple of weeks; my
niece, Sella."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It crossed my mind to ask what Sella had done to screw up
her life, since no one came to Cold Haven for
kicks or opportunities, but the expression on Father Cash's dark face was so
pained that I remained silent.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She seemed okay at first. Wouldn't say why she was
here, but I figured it could be anything; a fight with her mother, a bad
breakup with a boy...you know."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As if I didn't know all the reasons a person might run here.
"What does her mother say?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash cupped his mug in his thin hands and gazed into
it, as if it held clues. "Sella wouldn't let me call her at first, except
to say she was here and safe. But now when I try to call Lena, I get no
answer."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Is that unusual?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes. And now Sella isn't talking. She won't speak,
won't eat, hardly even leaves the couch except to use the bathroom."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"She's depressed," I said. "This miserable
place will do it to anyone."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I hope that's all it is." Father Cash raised his
head. "Would you come talk to her?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I drew back at the intensity of worry in his brown eyes.
"She doesn't even know me."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"But you're a woman, and you're close in age." </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"How old is she?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash frowned. "Seventeen, perhaps?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Then we're nearly a decade apart."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He waved a hand, as if he were annoyed. "Not important. You hate this place, so
if it's the town or the cold and dark that's doing this to her..."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'll know what to say?" </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Misery loves company."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I guess so."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash smiled. "Then it's settled? You'll
come?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nothing was settled, but I supposed I was on the hook now.
"Does it matter what time? A customer paid me in Xanax last night and I'm
still not all here."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ex-priest unfolded his lanky body from my chair and
patted me on the knee. "You were careful?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Yes, Father. You won't catch any diseases if you want
to fuck me later."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His eyebrows arched in dismay. "I genuinely care about
you, Judith. You know that."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I bowed my head over my cup. He was right of course. Just
because he was a letch didn't mean he was any less concerned about my welfare. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Father Cash set his still-warm mug of water on the chair.
"I have no plans for the rest of the day, and Sella refuses to leave the
couch, so anytime will be fine. If you come around six, there will be hot soup.
Navy bean and onion."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In spite of myself, I smiled. "A bribe."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Think of it as payment for your service."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"I'll try to be worthy of it."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After he had blessed me and gone out, I set my mug on the
floor and burrowed back under the covers. Who was I to give a pep talk to
someone when I couldn't even give one to myself? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Damn Father Cash to hell.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://cold-haven.blogspot.com/2015/03/chapter-one-part-two.html">Next>></a> </div>
Ann (bunnygirl)http://www.blogger.com/profile/04938134750150653386noreply@blogger.com7