by Quinn Loftis
Mrs. Kush Kush wound herself around his ankles. Much like her owner, she wasn’t in the best shape. Skip had no idea how old she actually was, but he knew Kurt Cobain was still alive when he’d rescued her from a dumpster. One eye was completely white, and the other was so cloudy Samantha had doubts about how much the cat could actually see out of it. Its fur was patchy, and one brown fang protruded from its lower jaw, poking out of its mouth at all times. It had no other teeth to speak of.
“Hey, Skip. Hey, Mrs. Kush Kush.”
“Hey, Samsonite. You been outta town?” Skip’s voice sounded as if the air had to pass through a wall of pea gravel before it could escape the voice box.
“Just back from a girls’ weekend in Vegas,” she replied.
“Righteous,” he said.
“Looks like we’ve got new neighbors,” said Sam pointing down to the ground. “Have you met them yet?”
“Yeah, it’s just one dude. I met him. He came up here yesterday. Me and Kush Kush were chillin.’ Seemed like a nice guy. It’s weird, now you mention it. He asked about you.”
“What?” Samantha’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Said he was a friend of yours. His name is…” Skip squinted and looked up at the porchlight above his own apartment door. “I can’t remember … started with a D. David maybe.”
“Derek,” said Samantha. “His name is Derek, and he is not a nice guy.”
Chapter Nineteen
Samantha refused to panic. The old Samantha would have immediately gone into hysterics. She would have jumped in her car and sped back over to Charity’s. Instead, the new Samantha simply said goodnight to Skip, unlocked her apartment door, and rolled her suitcase inside. She locked the front door, making sure to secure the deadbolt firmly.
Though she was already about to fall over from exhaustion, Samantha knew she wouldn’t sleep until she washed the airport germs off her, so she decided to grab a shower before collapsing into bed. She unzipped the suitcase and grabbed the last clean pair of underwear from her trip. When she did, she uncovered the snow globe Jason had given her. She picked it up and set it on top of her dresser. She couldn’t help the smile on her face and the warm feelings that coursed through her when she looked at it. It reminded her of Jason’s hands, the way he’d held her when they’d leaned over the guardrail at the dam. She closed her eyes, remembering his smell as he’d been pressed up against her. It was something akin to pine needles or a fir tree.
The memory was bittersweet. She held on to it the remaining few moments of the evening as she showered and went to bed. Before lying down, she grabbed the globe and placed it on her bedside table. She wanted it to be the first thing she saw when she awoke. As she lay in the dark, Samantha ran the memories of her trip through her head. She recalled dancing with Jason. She remembered their shared meals. She thought about their time together on the parking garage roof looking out over the city. She even laughed about vomiting all over the man.
The one thing she didn’t think about was Derek. It was as if Jason’s goodness had chased all the evil that was Derek out of her soul. Samantha knew she would eventually have to face Derek, probably sooner rather than later. And Sam knew it would not be easy. She knew it would get ugly. If Derek had gone through the trouble of actually moving into her apartment building, then he wasn’t going to go away without causing problems. But Samantha didn’t care. The woman knew she was strong enough to handle whatever garbage he tried to dump on her. If Jason O’Neal could bury a loving wife and two beautiful daughters and still have the strength to be a good person, then she could deal with one pathetic loser that couldn’t let go. Sam would have to be careful though. She knew that. Derek was violent and he wouldn’t take rejection well. But Samantha was stronger now than she’d ever been. She would be okay.
* * *
Derek surprised her by not banging on her door first thing in the morning. When Sam awoke the following day, her eyes fell on the snow globe and she smiled. But then she immediately got up and peeked out her front window to see if the new blue truck was still in its parking spot. It was, and she spent the entire morning anticipating his knock on her front door and straining her ear for any sounds coming from the apartment below. But all remained quiet as she got ready for work. She steeled herself as she gathered her lunch and her purse, then hesitated at the door. She went back into her bedroom, retrieved the snow globe, and placed it into her purse. It wasn’t quite big enough and caused the bag to bulge, keeping it from being zipped, but Samantha didn’t care. The snow globe was like a talisman, silently giving her the strength she needed to face down a monster. She returned to the door and took a deep breath.
At first, she thought she might bolt across the parking lot and jump into her car before Derek got the chance to flag her down. She just knew he had to be watching from his own window, waiting for the chance to pounce. But that kind of action was something the old Sam would have done. The new Samantha would walk calmly and normally to her car and drive to work with her head held high, not scamper into her vehicle like a frightened doe springing for cover in the thicket.
Her fears were for naught. When Sam opened the door and peered out, she saw the blue truck was gone. Apparently, Derek had left while she was getting ready and she hadn’t heard him leave. But where had he gone? Surely, not to work. The Derek Samantha knew usually didn’t drag himself out of bed before noon, much less get up early and engage in any kind of productive enterprise such as gainful employment. Huh.
When she arrived at work, Samantha held on to her secret until mid-morning. At first, she thought about not even telling Charity that Derek had moved into the apartment beneath her. The fallout was going to be catastrophic. But, even with her newfound confidence, Samantha wasn’t a fool. She knew the upcoming battle would be a tough one. She had a much better chance of surviving with her friend’s help. And the news of Derek’s reappearance would have the pleasant ancillary effect of refocusing Charity’s ire away from Jason. Even though she’d only spent a few days with him, Samantha found herself fiercely protective of Jason.
During a break in phone calls that morning, Sam walked over to Charity’s cubicle. “I’ve got some news,” she said as soon as Charity finished her call. Charity spun in her chair to face Samantha, but she didn’t bother to remove her headset.
“What, did your new boyfriend stop at a glass marble factory somewhere and realize there was something terribly familiar about the little round balls?”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “No, my old boyfriend moved in to the apartment below me.”
“What?” Charity shouted, ripping off her headset and jumping to her feet. “How the hell did this happen?”
Samantha shrugged. “Guess the apartment came open.”
“No, no, no. The apartment didn’t just come open. That’s too much of a coincidence. He probably paid the other tenants to leave so he could have it.”
“Where would he get that kind of money?” asked Sam.
“I don’t know,” said Charity. “He’s sneaky. He probably stole it or something. We’ve got to go to the police. This is stalking.”
“I’m not sure how far I’d get with that. He hasn’t really done anything.”
“Hasn’t done anything? What about all the times he smacked you around?”
“That was over six months ago. I can’t exactly prove it now, can I?”
“We should at least go ask the police about it. If nothing else, we put them on notice about his sorry ass.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Yes, it is. I’m not taking any chances. Constant vigilance.”
“I’ve already told you,” said Samantha, “we’re done.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Then just hide and watch.”
* * *
Samantha was scheduled to work at Roanoke’s Roasters that evening and the next. She had taken her Roasters uniform to work so she wouldn’t need to return home to change. D
espite her assurances to Charity, Samantha wasn’t going to take any unnecessary risks. If she could avoid Derek, she would. That afternoon, Charity had researched the state’s stalking laws.
“See, Sam, it says right here a stalker is, and I quote, ‘Any person who on more than one occasion engages in conduct directed at another person with the intent to place, or when he knows or reasonably should know that the conduct places that other person in reasonable fear of death, criminal sexual assault, or bodily injury.’ How can you say that he isn’t placing you in reasonable fear of death?” Charity asked. “Oh, and I guess that totally rules out Henry Hyena as a stalker. He’s just one of those oddities in life that can’t be explained.”
“Henry is odd, I agree, but I’ve never really felt he was dangerous. I don’t think Derek’s going to kill me, either” Sam responded.
“Or criminal sexual assault?” Charity asked. Sam shrugged.
“Bodily injury?”
“All he’s done is send me a text asking me to hear him out. How does that put me in fear of bodily injury?”
“He moved into the apartment below you,” Charity practically screamed.
“I was more in fear of bodily injury from the lunatics that lived there before.”
“You’re hopeless,” said Charity. “Stop trying to be brave. We’ve got to do something about this son of a bitch.”
“Okay, fine. Wednesday after work, we’ll go by the police station and see what they say. I work tonight and tomorrow.”
“Okay,” agreed Charity, pacified for the moment. “I just hope he doesn’t try anything before then.”
“How could he? I’ll be at work. You know Tran won’t let him on the premises.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” said Charity skeptically.
* * *
Samantha’s shift at the coffee shop that evening passed without an incident from Derek, though Henry did make an appearance.
“Your boss said you were out of town when I called to see if you were working,” Henry said as he came up to the counter.
Samantha nodded. “I was. Would you like your usual?” she asked.
“Yes, please. I’m glad you’re back. I couldn’t detect your aura on either plane, the psychic or physical. It was a little unnerving.” Henry frowned as he paid his bill and Samantha read genuine confusion on his face.
“Ooookay,” Samantha said slowly. She wasn’t sure how she should respond so she gave him his change and began to make his coffee.
Henry sat in his usual spot and did his usual weird, watching thing. Since she’d come to the conclusion she didn’t really think he was a threat, Sam just ignored him and went about her duties. As usual, a couple hours later, he said goodbye and left.
“That guy weird but he a faithful customer,” Tran said as the door closed behind Henry. “But he call too much. Tran got tired of saying you not here.” Though he would never openly admit it, Sam could tell Tran was happy to have her back. He only yelled at three customers the entire shift, which was a new record for him. Holding his phone, Tran approached Samantha during a lull in business.
“Your boyfriend post new video. He in Oregon, at some waterfall. Very pretty.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. She’d already watched the video, of course, and seen the amazing wilderness and the picturesque waterfalls Jason had filmed. As she’d done so, she couldn’t help but imagine herself standing next to Jason, holding his hand as they both stood in awe at the beauty of nature. Samantha tried not to daydream about such things, but her imagination just wouldn’t obey.
She’d also noticed several of the negative comments continued. Most expressed happiness that Jason was back on the road again and away from the conniving Samantha. Some were very ugly about Jason, wondering if the women in Oregon would fall for his sob stories and his womanizing ways like she had. A few, though, actually defended him and Samantha, claiming it was good Jason was finding the strength to move on and expressing how Sam actually seemed a genuine and kind person. She tried her best to let none of them, positive or negative, affect her.
“Uh, you’ve been watching Jason’s videos?” she asked Tran.
“Of course. Tran see everything in Vegas on the phone. Tran very happy for you.”
“What do you mean you’re happy for me?”
“You and sad man lovey, dovey now. Maybe now you not such sad sap around coffee shop. Tran already see change in you. You smile like schoolgirl now. You no longer have heart of marble. You have graduated. Now, you only have heart of wood. Keep this up, soon you maybe even have heart of rubber. But still a long way to go until heart of flesh, I think.”
“We are not lovey, dovey.”
Tran laughed loudly. “You think Tran blind? Tran see in video how you look at sad man. Tran see how sad man look at you. Tran know that look. Remind him of girlfriend he had in Vietnam before Tran was tricked into marrying fat, evil temptress.”
“Tran, how could you say that about Linh? She’s not fat. And she’s as sweet as she can be.”
“She fat like tire blimp that fly in the sky over football games. Disgusting. And she evil. Hit Tran with wooden spoon when Tran no take out the garbage. Very bad manners.”
“She is not. Regardless, there is nothing going on between Jason and me. He’s a thousand miles away. I’ll probably never see him again.”
“Ha! He call you before day is out tomorrow. You mark Tran words.”
“Whatever.”
With some trepidation, Samantha left the shop and marched to her car, her head on a swivel, searching the windows of every parked vehicle for Derek’s face. She wasn’t disappointed. Next door at the laundromat, she saw the blue truck backed into a parking spot, its front windshield facing the coffee shop. Samantha froze in her tracks. She couldn’t see clearly inside the cab from where she stood, but there was a man inside. She couldn’t shake the feeling he was watching her. It had to be Derek.
She almost stormed across the parking lot and confronted him, but then she thought better of it. The last parking lot confrontation with Derek didn’t turn out so well. She doubted this one would either. Better to meet him face-to-face when she was a little better prepared. At least now she knew for sure he was lurking. Before she saw him again, Samantha would work out exactly what she could say to kick Derek out of her life for good.
It was too late to pretend she hadn’t noticed him. She’d been standing motionless, staring at his truck for several minutes now. At this point, she could only muster as much dignity as possible and ignore him. She stuck her nose in the air and continued to her vehicle. The truck didn’t move as she left the coffee shop. When Samantha arrived home, she spent the rest of the evening brooding, preparing for the conflict she knew was rapidly approaching.
* * *
Tran was only half right. Jason didn’t call. He texted. The following day, just before lunch, Samantha’s phone chirped. She picked it up absentmindedly and almost dropped it when she saw the sender. Immediately, she smashed the button on her work phone and hung up on the customer telling her about the recent hailstorm that damaged his roof. She would probably get reprimanded for that but she didn’t care. Giddily, she punched the screen and brought up the message.
* * *
Samantha. I hope you’re not royally pissed at me right now. Sorry I ran out on you guys. I admit I was scared. I can’t deny there was something between us last weekend. I just don’t know how to process it. Can I call you sometime? -Jason
* * *
The butterflies in her stomach now boarded hot air balloons, filled them with helium, and floated away across a candy rainbow. Samantha got up, held the phone to her chest, and did a happy dance right there in her cubicle.
“I know that dance,” said a voice from behind her. She spun around to see her supervisor, Brenda, holding a cup of coffee and staring at her with an amused look on her face. “You’ve got a new beau, and I think I know who it is.”
“What? How would you know?”
“You think
the rest of us didn’t keep up with you three while you were in Vegas? We’ve watched all the videos.”
“Huh? How did you even know about the videos?”
Brenda smirked. “Girl, this is Cubeville and I’m the mayor. There are no secrets in Cubeville. Gossip spreads in this office faster than a wildfire. The women in this office may be old, and we may be cranky, but don’t forget we were young once too. There’s nothing better than a juicy piece of gossip to us, especially when that gossip involves one of our own with a sexy, mysterious, travelling stranger. Some of these biddies are liable to swoon.”
Samantha’s eyes grew wide. This was the last thing she’d expected from her crotchety supervisor.
“Haven’t you seen the stack of Harlequins on Geraldine’s desk?” asked Brenda. “That woman is downright filthy. The old women in this office give Fifty Shades of Grey an entirely new meaning.”
Samantha couldn’t help but smile. This was an aspect of her coworkers she’d never before considered.
“But be careful,” said Brenda. “We know about that other one, too, and Charity is right. That SOB is bad news. You watch yourself. And I’m here for you if you need anything.”