Inseparable Strangers (3 page)

The little snot
producing boy continued crying and it became nails on a chalkboard to my ears.
“Can you shut him up already? It’s not like I hit him or anything.”
Although,
I would love to throat punch his mother right now.

She stepped into
my personal space and I was able to see the defined wrinkles gathered around
her eyes and mouth. Yep, a sure sign of a smoker. Her voice dropped low
intending for only me to hear her, she pointed her finger in my face and said,
“Let me tell you something you snobby-ass bitch. If you so much talk about my
child in a negative way one more time, this white trash will beat the shit out
of you so fast you’ll be too crippled to ever worry about another dollar sign.”

I took a step
closer to her. “If you’re going to throw threats my way, I hope like hell
you’re ready to back that shit up because I’m ready to start swinging, you
piece of shit.” My voice stayed calm, but my eyes were ready to slice her open.

We stood there
glaring at each, neither one of us ready to back down for several seconds,
maybe minutes before her little boy started crying ‘Mama, Mama.’ She then
looked away and gave him her full attention. “Shh, it’s alright sweetheart.
This mean lady wasn’t going to hurt you. C’mon, I’ll buy you another ice
cream,” she said, taking his hand and heading back toward the direction they’d
came from. As she walked down the sidewalk, she turned back to cast one more
evil glare at me. I rolled my eyes, showing my disinterest, and continued
watching them until they walked back into the Frozen Treatz shop.

As I crossed the
street, that same eerie feeling washed over me again. This was becoming
ridiculous. I was never the one to be afraid of anything. Ever. Now this? The nightmares?
Was I losing my evil touch? Was I being punished for my bitchy ways? Was karma
paying me a visit for all the wrong doings in my life? If so, then she just met
her match because I wasn’t going down without a fight.

With a quick push
of a button, my car door unlocked and I jumped in as quickly as possible. My
heart jumped erratically in my chest, and the feeling was foreign to me.
Get
a grip on yourself. There’s nothing to be scared of. You’re just freaking
yourself out because of that nightmare.

A little voice
played on repeat in my head — maybe it wasn’t just a dream.

The
rest of my day remained calm other than Victoria calling me an hour later after
we’d departed saying she wasn’t coming over. Her rich, old boyfriend was coming
home after being on a business trip to Japan for two weeks, so she opted to be
with him instead. I shouldn’t have been surprised; every time she’s “in love”
she excludes everyone around her, and then as soon as they break up, she’s back
in your face wanting attention. It was kind of relieving. I wasn’t the best
hostess, and after my time with her today there was no way I would’ve been able
to handle her for more than twenty four hours.

After
hanging up with Victoria, I changed my clothes and drove over to Felts Park for
a relaxing run. It was an hour before dusk so I didn’t have much time to get my
sprints in. The trail was peaceful; that was until I stumbled upon a group of
guys beating on somebody.

I had been running
on the greenway like I did every evening when I heard a bunch of commotion
about a hundred feet ahead, past a line of maple trees losing their green to
the cool air. The closer I got, the more I could hear male voices cheering
another on to ‘kick him again,’ followed by grunts and a low moan. At first, I
was hesitant to approach them, but my curiosity got the best of me. Taking my
pepper spray out of the wristband, I held it down by my thigh as I treaded to
get a better look.

My
incognito skills failed. One of the guys that was more of a bystander than a
participant turned my way right as I stepped on a twig.
Shit.

“Shit!
Guys let’s go. Leave him. We’ve been seen,” he said, his voice sounding
panicked. Dusk was already taking over and I struggled to get a good look at
the guys as they took off running the opposite direction.

Slowly,
I walked over to the man lying on the dirt. His hair was covered with twigs and
leaves, and blood was smeared over his hands. Something about him looked
familiar to me…something about the coat, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He
was on his stomach with his face turned away from me. Not sure if he was alive
or dead, I nudge him with my foot to see if he made any movements. A breathy
moan followed by air gasping coughs caused a puff of dirt to cloud up around
his face.
Now that I know he’s alive, should I leave him or should I try to
help? Why am I even asking myself this? I don’t care if he lives or dies. He’s
just one more freeloader heading to hell.

A
loud gasp inflated my lungs and a scream nearly followed.
I smacked my
hand over my mouth when the grungy man turned his head to face me. It was him.
It was the bearded freak who helped me yesterday… the murderous creep who
invaded my dreams. Without a second thought, I spun around and started to run
down the trail, back to my car, back where it was safe.

“Help
me. Please.”

His
plea stopped me dead in my tracks.

Why
did I stop? This man tried to kill me in my sleep. He hates me because I didn’t
thank him.

“Please
don’t leave me again,” he grunted. A coughing attack took over him, and he
curled up into a ball as he whimpered in pain.

“I’m
calling 911,” I told him, pulling my phone out. That was the only logical thing
I could think to do. It would be my good deed for the year. It was my way of
letting him know I appreciated his help.

His
hand reached out to me. He held his palm out as if to tell me to stop. “Don’t.
Please don’t call anybody,” he choked out followed by another fit of coughs.

Leaning down with
my hands resting on my knees, I examined his injuries from a safe distance.
With all that hair on his head and face, and his long, brown coat covering most
of his body, it was difficult to see how badly he was hurt. “Look, dude, I
can’t carry you to my car, so if you want to go to the hospital, you’re going
to have to go by ambulance.”

“I—
I can’t,” he huffed. “I can’t go to the hospital. If you can help me get over
to the park bathrooms, I’ll rest there until the morning.” He rolled over to
his side. His body was still curled in a fetal-like position. He laid there for
a couple of minutes, then with a struggle, pushed himself up into a sitting
position. His breathing was heavy and ragged. I wondered if maybe he’d broken a
rib. Maybe two. “If you can help me up, I think I can stand long enough to walk
on my own.”

“But that means
I’ll have to touch you. What if you’re carrying some kind of life-threatening
disease?” Just the thought of his mangy hands touching any part of my body
caused me to cringe.

He shook his head
in disgust. If anyone was going to be disgusted, it most definitely should be
me. There was no way he had bathed in the past several weeks. Surprisingly
though, I didn’t smell any type of pungent odor from him. He shifted, putting
all his weight on one arm, which I assumed was the only uninjured item on him,
and wobbled as he fought to stand on two steady feet. Right as he was nearly in
a complete standing position, his legs gave out and he fell hard on the dirt.

I’m not sure if it
was from pure instinct of fear or an odd dose of guilty conscience, because if
I had been thinking with a clear mind, I would’ve never run over to help him
up. “Here, drape your arm around my shoulders,” I instructed as I wrapped my
arm around his waist. I closed my eyes in disgust, and I held onto him the best
I could without grabbing any of his clothing with my hand. He was heavy. A lot
heavier than I was expecting.

“Sorry I’m having
to put so much weight on you,” he apologized, his voice strained as another
round of coughs burst from his chest.

Once the coughs
ceased, I could hear him wheeze with every step we took. He looked into my eyes
so close, I could only see a caring, yet, painful soul through the depths of
green. For the second time tonight, I was breaking another one of my rules. As
much as I didn’t care what happened to this man, I couldn’t allow his death to
be on my conscience. And without a visit to the ER, I had a feeling his night
would end very grim if left alone. He was in no condition to be able to hurt me
seeing how he could only walk with assistance and wheezing like a two-pack a
day smoker. Hell, he would pass out just trying to get to me.

“Wait, where are
we going?” His voice shook with fear.
Was he afraid I was going to kill him
or something?

My decision to
bring him to my house was purely for my benefit, not his. I didn’t normally
have a guilty conscience, but for some odd reason, tonight it made its grand
appearance.

It
took all the strength I could muster to carry him over to my car.
I wonder
if he’ll fit in my trunk.
If I thought I could drive home without running
into a cop, I would’ve thrown him back there in a heartbeat. Knowing the way my
luck had been going in the last couple of days, I didn’t want to take any
chances.

“Okay, Mr. Beard,
my car is clean and I mean immaculate, so sit here for a minute or two while I
get something to protect my interior.” He released my shoulder and my back felt
instant relief. He dropped to the ground, and a loud moan muffled through the
night. I rummaged through my trunk until I found a blanket and a couple of
towels. “Alright, let me spread these out for you,” I breathed heavily as I
tucked the blanket in the back of the seat. Taking two of the towels, I spread
them out over the floorboard. Turning back toward him, I bent down to hoist his
grimy, crippled-self up into the car.

“Oomph.”
Damn
two-door car.
This was one time I wished I had four doors. The workout I
was getting from lifting him up was more strenuous than any my trainer gave me.
Oh my God, it felt like his body had accumulated twenty more pounds during the
short period of time he sat on the ground. The struggle to drag him into my
back seat without getting his filth everywhere was ridiculous. I was beginning
to rethink my good deed for the year.

He squeezed his
eyes shut as he sucked in air between his teeth. His arm instantly wrapped tight
against his chest. From the way those guys were kicking him, I wouldn’t be
surprised if they didn’t damage more than just his ribs.

I jumped in and
slammed my door shut as if I were leaving the scene of a crime. Well, I guess
to some extent, I was. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at the
emergency room,” I asked, looking at him in my rearview mirror. He was balled
up in a fetal position, and his eyes were still closed. He didn’t answer me,
and I could only hope he was sleeping and not dead. It might be morbid but if
he died in my car, I would be dumping his body off into the nearest river on
the outskirts of town. Well, not really, but I would entertain the idea.

We were on the
main road when I heard him groan. Relief washed over me from knowing he wasn’t
dead. From the way he looked and the way he sounded, I think he was in worse
shape than I’d originally thought. I wasn’t sure this was such a smart idea. I
was pretty sure his injuries were far more extensive than anything I could
handle.

The night had
grown darker, and blankets of clouds drifted through the sky. Pulling into my
driveway, I hit the switch to open the garage door.
Damn
. This was one
night I wished I’d turned my outside lights on. But then again, I wasn’t
expecting to be out so late either.

The garage light
brought life inside my car, and Mr. Freak started to stir around.

“Stay put and I’ll
get things set up for you.” I turned around to check on him. He was still
curled up in a ball, and this time he had both arms folded around his abdomen.
He nodded, his lips pulled into a thin line and his eyebrows knitted tightly
together.

There was no way I
was bringing him inside of my house, so I decided to make him a pallet in the
garage. He could sleep here for the night. Tomorrow we would worry about what
to do next.

Rummaging through
my garage, I couldn’t find anything decent enough to sleep on. I figured he was
used to sleeping on the ground, but with his injuries he would probably
appreciate something with a little cushion. I walked through the house then
down to the basement.

“Dammit! Not a
fucking thing down here.”
Why am I getting so frustrated? Do I really care
if he’s comfortable? Hell no, I don’t care.
It was ridiculous; I was
wasting my time looking. I’d already spent half of my evening dealing with this
hairy monster, and now I was going to have to babysit him for the night. There
was no doubt about it, he was going to have to leave first thing in the
morning, injured or not.

Luckily, I had a
pile of junk my housekeeper, Zoila kept to take to her family in Mexico once a
year. Anything I tossed out to the trash, Zoila would dig it out and add it to
her personal stash. The first time I’d seen her take a pair of heels I’d thrown
away, I was furious. Stealing from me wasn’t something I took lightly. When I’d
confronted her she’d argued a justifiable point, but I still enjoyed watching
her squirm as I interrogated her to see what her true intentions were. The idea
of using something that once belonged to someone else, especially a person you
knew nothing about, absolutely grossed me out. There are too many diseases
floating around these days to indulge in used items. Those little scroungers
were lucky I was a clean person and everything I owned was in pristine
condition.

Digging through
the mess of clothes, I found two of my old comforters folded toward the bottom.
They would have to suffice.

On my way back to
the garage, I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge. With the unexpected
interruption on the greenway, I’d never gotten the chance to obtain my water
intake after a run. In the garage, I tossed everything onto the floor by the
steps and opened the driver’s side door.
Damn, two-door car.
This was
going to be a bitch to pull him out.

“Yo!” I called.
His eyes flew open in a panic, but lowered to a crease once he saw it was me.
“You’ve got to wake up, dude. You can’t sleep in my car all night,” I said,
moving the driver’s seat up to give him more room to climb out. “You can sleep
here in the garage,
tonight
.” I had to make sure I emphasized the word
tonight so he would know this wasn’t going to become a weeklong event. Slumber
parties were never my thing. “I brought you some blankets to make a bed with.”

He struggled to
sit up into a sitting position so I grabbed his arms and pulled him forward.
“Ahh!” he screamed out. “Slower. Please,” he winced, “a little slower. My ribs…
are broke,” he said panting heavily.

“Oh.” I didn’t
know what else to say. It wasn’t like I felt any empathy for him. After all, it
was pretty much his own fault for getting in the situation he was in. If you
put yourself out on the streets, you’re most likely an easy target for those
who are disgusted with your choice of living. And, of course, that would be me.

We weren’t making
much progress getting him out of the backseat, so I had an idea he probably
wasn’t going to be too happy about.

“This isn’t
working. Neither one of us has the strength to move you much more than a couple
of inches, so why don’t I pull you hard and fast? Just one swift, painful tug
and you’ll be free. You know, just like jerking a Band-Aid off. What do you
think?” I raised my eyebrows in hopes of him agreeing to my plan.