Away (18 page)

Alex found a large gray backpack, tossing it into her cart as she moved to the clothing section. She chose a six-pack of cotton underwear and two sports bras, followed by several T-shirts, two pairs of sweatpants, some tube socks, and finally, a pink hoodie, a color she hated and resisted wearing. Punishing herself for a change. Another department provided some deodorant, a bar of soap, a few sample-sized shampoos and conditioners, a nail file, toothbrush, and paste, a pair of scissors, and dark brown hair color. Alex was loathe to spend any more of her cash but picked up a bottle of multivitamins and one of Tylenol, knowing that her level of stress could lead to a relapse of the flu. She grabbed a large pair of cheap sunglasses from the rotating display near the center aisle. It took everything she had to focus on what she needed to buy, but she admitted to herself that she had thought of running as soon as she realized what Devon and Jeff wanted from her at the Club.

The cashier was tired and bored, another casualty of the night shift, and paid little attention to her as she checked out behind a woman pushing a huge cart of groceries. Alex snagged an energy drink from the cooler and a bag of chips, the groceries reminding her that she had not really eaten since breakfast, and even that had been a paltry intake given her anxiety. She had no appetite but knew she was running on empty and would crash at a not-so-distant point in the future. Satisfied that in paying cash she was leaving no paper trail, Alex turned back into the store, seeking a change room. She asked the clerk, who finally arrived to the sound of the buzzer, if she could leave the bulk of her purchases on the counter while she changed into some of the other clothing. The woman raised her eyebrows, and Alex stumbled through an explanation about being out for the evening and finding the plans had changed, thus requiring different clothing.

She was ushered into a cubicle and as quickly as possible fumbled her way into underwear and socks, followed by T-shirt and sweats, topped by the hoodie. The ache in her body from the flogging and paddling had subsided to a degree, but when she chanced to look in the mirror, the marks and welts on her back and buttocks were only too discernible. Her breasts showed different signs of attention, and she second-guessed the sports bra, but in the end sucked it up and pulled the T-shirt over it. She would pop a couple of pain relievers once she got outside.

The red dress was wadded up and shoved into a pocket of the trench coat, and then Alex draped that over her shoulders. She told the clerk to throw out the red shoes. The clerk watched her gather up the bags without comment, and Alex made her way to the front of the store, all the while expecting an accusation of shoplifting to erupt behind her. Making her way without incident outside, she spied a trashcan and dragged the red dress out of her pocket. She stuffed it into the foul-smelling can, consigning it to a landfill somewhere. At that moment Alex realized she had forgotten to purchase a few items, tampons in particular, as her period was due within a few days, but could not face another trip inside the store. She would have to find another place to shop down the road. She placed the remainder of her purchases inside the backpack and headed out with purpose, if only her resolve could carry her.

Alex walked for a few blocks along the dimly lit night streets, vaguely recognizing the safety issue but reveling in the fresh air and freedom. Alex knew that when there was no sign of her at the Club or at home, Devon and Jeff would search her room to try and find her whereabouts. They wouldn’t find anything to help them though, because she had nowhere to go. They would likely be angry and upset that the parting wasn’t planned and executed, but that would pass. Why she felt the need to keep reassuring herself about their reaction, she didn’t know, but there it was.

A yellow cab slowed at her wave, the driver carefully studying then stopping to admit her. She directed him to the bus station, a large, busy place where she thought she could do what she needed to further change her appearance. The fare was higher than she had imagined, but she gladly paid and tipped, too, though with less generosity. She fought the giggles again. Alex the spy. Alex the underground agent. Over the top. She hurt.

The bus depot didn’t disappoint, allowing her to slip into the ranks of the other travellers, many looking similar to her in dress. She was fully aware of the security cameras that abounded, however, so she slipped the trench coat off and kept her hood up to change her appearance. Alex found the restrooms and locked herself into the handicap stall, hoping that she would have enough privacy to address her next major change. She pulled her long hair back into a rough ponytail then hacked it through at the base with her scissors. She did much of it by feel then flushed the strands down the toilet. Alex wanted to weep over her actions. Her long hair was in memory of her mother. Pulling her hood up and leaving the trench coat in the stall, Alex exited the toilet and peered at herself in the mirror, fussing with washing her hands until the area emptied out. Quickly she pushed her hood back and combed the front of her hair into long bangs, then cut them across, throwing the hair into the wastebasket beside the sink. An almost juvenile look peered back at her, but the shining blonde cap still belonged to Alex. She stepped back into the stall and fumbled for the hair color, the new foam that was guaranteed to take only ten minutes. The trench coat protected her new duds and the plastic gloves, her hands. The smell wasn’t too offensive, but she realized that the women and girls passing in and of the restroom could hardly miss it. She wished she had taken the time to find some of that spray-in color, but then pink or orange would be pretty remarkable and draw attention.

At last she felt it was quiet enough to emerge and dunk her head in the sink. As she shampooed the color through the short lengths two teenagers came in, giggling at the unorthodox place to be coloring one’s hair. Alex accepted several paper towels from one of them and chatted, attempting to laugh with them, striving to hide her strain. She knew that she had one more move to make, and that one might pass her into a different life, if she could only hang on. She had accomplished so much tonight, drawing on reserves she didn’t know she had, though her brainpower had never been in question, just her current drive. She had allowed her men to control her life because she trusted them to take care of her. Trusted them to accept her one inflexible boundary where they were concerned. They’d broken it tonight. She had nearly broken in the process. Maybe had broken, if the state of her heart was anything to go by.

Alex pulled the hood up over the still-damp strands of hair and stared into the mirror. With the dark tendrils framing her face and the pink of the hoodie, so unusual a color for her, she looked considerably different, and at that moment she thought she could pull it off. Gathering up her backpack, leaving the black coat behind in the stall, Alex slipped through a number of other travellers and found the ATM she had observed when she came in. She’d nearly forgotten but seeing the huge ceiling clock over the ticket cages had told her the time was nearly half past midnight, so she withdrew the maximum amount possible and stuffed it into her backpack, trying to be casual as she did so. She then left the bus terminal, heading for the train station several blocks distant. If she could just get a ticket to somewhere with her remaining cash, she would disembark the train and start over, if alone and empty.

The ticket seller handed Alex a ticket for Estonia, the most distant destination from the city that most of her leftover cash could purchase, and Alex was able to board within twenty minutes. Her legs were trembling, her breath short, and her brain now spinning as she took the final steps up into the train car, seeking a seat to crumple into and await the end of the journey. She didn’t look back.

Alex wearily pushed the final piece of cookware onto the shelf and dried her hands on the damp towel.

“Pretty tired today, Alex,” Andrew the cook commented. “You need a ride home?”

“No thanks, Andrew,” she replied. “I like the fresh air, and it straightens the kinks out. Besides, it isn’t far.”

“You could make better money and probably ease that back strain if you took that waitress job out front, you know. You’ve been a real good worker, and the boss can’t figure why you won’t try it out.”

Alex shivered. She felt incognito back in the kitchen, cleaning up and washing dishes. It was hot, demanding, and noisy work and kept her from thinking too much as well, as the cooks and waitstaff bantered back and forth with her. She did enough thinking at night despite her resolve not to, and her sleep was full of complicated and distracting dreams.

She had disembarked from the train before her destination. The train had stopped. She had assumed it was her station, and she was watching it pull out before she realized she was standing on the side of the tracks, alone with the exception of an elderly man. Alex panicked. She didn’t know where she was, and there was no sign of a town. The elderly man looked at her quizzically.

“Where you heading, girl?” he asked.

“Isn’t this Estonia?”

“Nope, this here’s New Bushnell, at least, just down the road.”

Alex began to cry again. She was exhausted, she was hurting, and she couldn’t go on. She sat down and held her head in her hands.

“There, there, girl, it’ll be okay,” the old man said as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. “My son’s coming to pick me up, late as usual,” he grumbled. “We’ll give you a ride to town and fix you right up.”

She sat there in the cool morning air, dependent upon yet another man. She didn’t care what happened to her. Fortunately, Mr. Hubbard, call me George, girl, was kind to the bone. His son Howard arrived a few minutes later and, true to his word, George had her driven to New Bushnell. Both the Hubbards told her that there was work in the diner or at the hotel, cleaning and probably other things, too, because they had the post office and a bank, plus a clinic with a real good doctor, too. Drew folks from miles around, he did. They took her to the diner and introduced her to Max, the owner, who offered her a job washing dishes, money under the table. Alex took it and agreed to start the next morning at six.

The hotel provided a room, but Alex had little money left. The young woman working the desk told her about a couple of furnished places and even placed the calls for her, setting up times for her to go meet the landlords. Alex was overwhelmed with the kindness of the people in the small town. She didn’t look like much, she knew, with a swollen, cut lip, shuffling walk, and what was probably a scared demeanour. But they helped her and accepted her, and here she was.

Her life had shrunk into a narrow, predictable pattern. She would get up at five thirty, make her way to the diner, set the tables, and fill the sinks, and clean the floors. If she had time, she would help the cook clean the grill. The customers filtered in at seven, mostly regulars but also a few folks passing through. The camaraderie was evident, and while she tried to stay clear of all connections, man was a social animal by nature, and Alex found herself included in the small family of servers, cooks, and owner. She knew they saw her as the quiet, withdrawn, little-sister type, and they fussed over her as much as she would allow it. The soreness went away, and her color came back a little. Her heart and soul were another matter.

To be honest, the kindness of these hardworking people touched her, and she responded in kind. And to their credit, they stayed out of her business when she avoided their interest. Alex knew they speculated behind her back but didn’t press her for information. After the news she had received yesterday, it wouldn’t be long until they might feel entitled to get in her business, and she was debating her next move. Damn it all, it was all too much. She was settled in her little place, if abysmally poor and with limited future aspects. And now she didn’t know if she could even stay on. A bit of resentment and rage sparked within, fuelled by the news, and it lifted the exhaustion for a short while.

* * * *

Devon picked the lock on Alex’s apartment, easing through the door silently. He and Jeff knew she was at work but didn’t know if she lived alone. Devon started tossing the bedroom, cursing under his breath at the dearth of personal belongings.

“She has nothing, Jeff. Shit, less than nothing,” he said. “A couple of changes of cheap tees and sweats, underwear, not even a coat.”

He moved into the bathroom and stared at the shitty towels, the small supply of soap and other toiletries. The big bottle of vitamins was the only concession to spending.

Jeff was in the living room, standing in the middle of the space.

“She has a library book, man. There’s no television, no radio, no computer, nothing. She left with nothing and has been living hand-to-mouth, probably under the radar as we didn’t get a flag on her social security number. What the fuck did we do to her, man? Our girl is next to living on the streets.”