Another Cliche Christmas

by Sarah Hualde

  “So, before we get talking, what’s your name? I’m Lydia. My husband and I live in Pottersville.”

  The girl locked her door and rubbed her hands together in front of the heater vent. “I’m Tammy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tammy. Is there any place you’d like me to drive you?” The girl nodded and adjusted her purse strap.

  “Yes, please. Just drive away before Ben sees me talking to you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lydia drove away, pulling on the road with no destination in mind. The further from the restaurant the truck rolled the easier Tammy breathed and the less she checked the side mirror. Ben must be a real treat to have you so scared. “You hungry? I could use dessert.”

  “But you ate?” Tammy questioned.

  “Some staff members made me lose my appetite. Let’s snag a cinnamon bun.” Tammy grinned. When she smiled, she looked too young to be working. Lydia chose not to pry but to let Tammy relax.

  They ate their sticky treats in the warmth of the truck. Tammy took a deep breath and began her tale, “You were looking for Martin? I heard Ben talking to him in the back.”

  “I’m looking for a girl named Ivy. She’s about your age. I was wondering if Martin might know where she is.”

  “Oh. I don’t know an Ivy. But I know Martin. And Ben. And I wish I didn’t. After this Christmas, I’m quitting the restaurant just to get away from them.” Tammy slurped on her hot chocolate and shivered. “They’re creeps.”

  “I got that feeling.”

  “Your feeling is right. Martin and Ben know a lot of girls. There’s a bunch of girls who show up at work, asking for them anyway. You’re the first lady to ask for them. When Martin ran, I figured if you scared him that bad you might be a decent person. Or I wouldn’t have gotten in the truck with you.” Tammy stared at Lydia, taking her in for the first time, as if just realizing what a stupid thing she’d done.

  “So, how can I help you Tammy?”

  “Martin and Ben know a lot of girls, like I said. But not in a good way. There are girls who come in. They act all flirty and too sugary sweet. The girls who come to see Martin, they’re empty, old in the eyes. Some are my age; some are a bit older. But all of them look dead inside.”

  “Why do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I think once you know it’s too late to get away. There was this cute girl, young, from my school. I don’t know her name but I recognize her. She used to wear cartoon shirts and ponies. And bounce with life when she talked. Do you understand what I mean?” Lydia visualized and nodded. “Well, she came in once all bouncy and young and came back in a couple weeks later, empty. No pony tail, no color… just nothing. I mean she looks the same but something is different… wrong… somehow. I know it sounds stupid but…”

  “No, you’re making sense. I can see it. Please continue. What do you guess is happening to them? What do you suspect Martin has to do with it?”

  “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble but I can’t shake the weird sense I have. I’ve seen the drug heads at my school and sometimes a girl will wander in and I can tell they’re on something. But these girls aren’t. At least, not at first. I know, something horrible is happening.” Tammy leaned closer to Lydia and whispered.

  “Once I saw a girl, come and talk to Martin. He had her sit at a table with a man, some guy older than you. She talked with him a while and smiled and then they left. That same girl came back two hours later, no smile no guy, and Martin sat her with some other guy. I had to leave before I saw what happened. But it was a spooky feeling.” Lydia grimaced. She suspected it was worse than Tammy understood but didn’t want to scare the girl.

  “When I first worked at the restaurant, Ben was sweet. He’d help me with my work and give me extra tips. He’d even drive me home occasionally. But then once,” The teen trembled. “He tried to kiss me and I backed away. I mean, he was nice, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend. He got upset and left me at the gas station by my house. He and Martin spoke nasty things at me when no one at work was around. But the manager caught them once and put an end to it. Now, they don’t share tips with me and they act like I don’t exist. I prefer it.”

  “I don’t blame you. There’s something going on there. Stay away from them.”

  Heard and relieved Tammy continued, “Then a few weeks ago, right after Thanksgiving, this girl comes in. Not an empty girl. This girl was sad not a zombie like the others. She wanted to talk to Martin, and he followed her outside to chat. At first, I noticed, he was super nice. Then she must have said something he didn’t like because, then I swear, I saw him hit her. Right in the face.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told the manager, and he checked the security feed. But they were standing out of sight of the camera. All we could see was a girl walking away, crying. She got in her pink car and drove away. Martin came back in.”

  “A pink car? What kind of car?”

  “One of those Herbie cars. Not the new kind the old ones.”

  Lydia clapped, startling Tammy and a pedestrian with her excitement. “That’s Ivy. You saw Ivy. Do you remember anything else about her?”

  Tammy grinned happy to be helping. “Not a lot. Just that she had blue hair.”

  Lydia had to refrain herself from hugging the girl. Thrilled to have something to go on, she prayed aloud. Tammy just stared in wonder and concern. “Do you know Jesus, Tammy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve just never seen anyone talk to Him, out loud, like that. Like He’s sitting with us in the truck.”

  “Don’t you believe he is?”

  “I guess so. I haven’t thought about it before.”

  “Okay, Miss Tammy. Are you certain you can’t quit your job before Christmas? I don’t like sending you back there.”

  Tammy shrugged. “I’m trying to buy presents for my little brother. Mom’s been working two jobs and I know we won’t have enough money to make it a good Christmas for him. He’s only seven. He’s too little to let that happen.” Lydia forced her tears to stay in her eyes. God had sent her this girl. She would not let another one slip by unseen.

  “How about we do some shopping, together? I’ll help you anyway I can. My only condition is you quit that job, today. Don’t go back. Not even to pick up a paycheck. Do you understand?” Tammy nodded and cried. She placed her head on Lydia’s shoulder and Lydia prayed passionately over her new young friend.

  After hitting up any shops nearby and purchasing enough presents to load the back cab of the truck, Lydia drove Tammy home. She stayed and explained her worries to Tammy’s mother, who wept over the protection God had provided her daughter. Lydia helped Tammy hide the gifts in a closet and left her phone number for Tammy and her family. She hugged her goodbye long after the early sun had set.

  Tammy’s mother, Ida, walked Lydia to her truck. “I can’t explain my fear and thankfulness.”

  Lydia waved it off. “God is good. But I have to tell you. My husband is the Pottersville sheriff. I will be telling him about Tammy and Martin and Ben. You may get a call from him or another sheriff “ Ida understood and bid her benefactress a Merry Christmas, waving to her long after Lydia could see her.

  *****

  “Hiya Kat, I’m leaving Lewiston right now. I’ve got troubling news about Ivy. Are you free to talk tonight?“

  “Sure.” Kat’s voice crackled through the stereo speakers. She continued chatting but only every other word came through.

  “I can’t understand you, Kat. But I’ll call you when I get home.”

  Prostitution, Lydia had never suspected prostitution. Everything about Tammy’s narrative pointed to a young, persuasive pimp using younger lonely girls to move his business. Lydia’s skin rebelled against her memory of sitting in a booth surrounded by monsters. Had Ivy fallen prey to this lifestyle? Was she hurting somewhere or trapped? Lydia didn’t expect so. She’d made it to her own vehicle and driven away. But that didn’t mean Martin had let her go. He could have followed
her to Honey Pot.

  With Emily’s information added into the mix, Lydia worried more. Emily had said Ivy once dated the beast. That added a whole new element of danger to her disappearance.

  Lost in pensive prayer and driving in the dark, Lydia almost didn’t notice the dark blue Honda. It joined her on the road a block from Tammy’s house. Kat called back causing Lydia to shriek and toss her hands in the air.

  “You terrified me!” She snapped at her friend. Panicked she quick scanned her mirrors and spotted the car. Kat was chattering at her, rapid fire. Lydia couldn’t discern a single word. Her knuckles arched around her steering wheel as acid shot up her throat. Swallowing it down and silencing the shivering in her voice she spoke steady and slow at Kat. “I’m being followed. It’s a blue Honda.” Kat jabbered unaware as Lydia repeated herself. “Kat, I’m being followed!”

  “Well, speed up!” Kat spouted panicked commands and Lydia’s foot obeyed. She jolted down the stretch. “Is it the same car from Ivy’s? The one you were telling us about?”

  “I think so.” The dark car loomed right behind Lydia’s tailgate. Lydia shoved her foot harder toward the ground. The truck sputtered in strained obedience. The Honda responded in kind, drawing even closer than before.

  “Is he still behind you?” Kat asked.

  Lydia nodded, though her friend couldn’t see her. Her voice wouldn’t cooperate. Sweat pooled between her palms and the wheel, even as the snow flurried outside. Lydia thanked God that Ethan had put on snow tires before Thanksgiving. Bumper shoved fender. The truck wiggled, reckless, on the frozen road. The gas, full on, wouldn’t give Lydia any more speed.

  The little Honda was newer, faster and sleeker. Lydia would have to rely on her experience to shake him. She lessened her pressure on the pedal and received another metallic punch. Kat yelped over the line. Lydia counted aloud with her eyes focused on the rearview. The Honda slowed, recalibrating and strategizing.

  She had one shot at throwing off her stalker. If she timed it wrong, the vehicles would collide and hers would spin out. The truck slowed beneath her. She listened to the Honda’s engine rev up. He’d strike again in just a few seconds. Lydia prayed and took a huge breath before cutting the wheel to the left and rocketing into the other lane. The Honda, ready to ram, flashed past her before he noticed she’d swapped over. His breaks hollered and the smooth ride fishtailed before shooting into the snow drift. Lydia’s truck, still near top speed left the driver behind.

  “Dear Jesus!” Lydia’s voice was louder than intended.

  “Lydia! Lydia!”

  “I’m okay Kat. I’m okay.”

  “Where’s the other car?”

  “He spun out into the snow.” Lydia pumped her brakes in rhythm, letting the truck roll to a much more manageable speed.

  “Good.”

  Lydia circled back and cruised next to the wreck. The driver’s face laid on the airbag. He wasn’t moving. “Dear God, he may be dead.”

  “No, no Lydia. Don’t do it. Come home. I’ve got Thad calling the paramedics, right now. Just come home.”

  “I can’t leave him.”

  “Sorry, I’m just nervous about you stopping. Keep me on the line.”

  “Okay, just keep quiet.” Kat went silent, save for the sporadic jagged breath.

  Lydia put on gloves, her pea coat, and a beanie before exiting the truck. She scanned the horizon and left the truck idling with the parking brake on. She tucked her cell phone under the strap of her bra and walked back to the wreck. The snow paused in its course.

  “I’m walking to it now. No one's around. But the windows of the car are all steamed up. I’m at the car, keep listening.” Kat’s breathing went deep and then silent again. Lydia pictured her tough gal pal holding it in and straining to hear every foot step. “There’s someone in there but they’re not moving.” Kat’s end rustled, but she didn’t speak. “I’m opening the door.” She tugged but the car wouldn’t open. “It’s stuck. I’m going to the other side.”

  Lydia pulled on the passenger door and it opened, tossing her backward onto the ground. From her seated position she saw the driver. He was breathing but not doing well. She wasn’t sure if he was even aware until he spoke.

  “You!” He choked and passed out.

  Lydia climbed into the car and tried to revive the young man. His dead weight was too much for her to handle. She felt his spine and his neck but the only obvious injury was his head. A cut bled through the crusting wound.

  “I’ll be right back.” She informed him before running to her car and grabbing a bottle of water.

  “What’s happening?” Kat whispered through the line.

  “I’ve got an injured driver. Bleeding from the head.”

  “Okay, Thad is on the phone with Lewiston paramedics. They’re on their way to you. Stay on the line with me.”

  Lydia snatched her emergency duffle bag from her back seat and rushed back to the car. The driver was still out. She rested him back against the head rest of his seat. He moaned and opened his eyes.

  “I have water. Drink some.” Holding the bottle to his lips, the injured man lapped up a small amount before he faded. His last gulp dribbled down his chin and onto his shiny name tag. Martin. Lydia whispered too low for Kat to hear and continued to care for the man.

  When paramedics arrived, they found Lydia applying pressure to his head wound and shivering. They wrapped her in a blanket and led her back to her truck to question her. Martin was in the ambulance and gone before the chill left Lydia’s bones.

  Kat and Thad pulled up in their minivan before the police finished gathering their information. Lydia fell into Kat’s arms, too tired to weep and too miserable to talk. She’d fill the girls in later. For the moment, she wrapped herself in the generosity of the Millers. Thaddeus drove Ethan’s truck home and Kat ushered Lydia back to the comfort of her own home.

  Chapter 9

  Emily rapped on Lydia’s door until her knuckles ached. She rang and rang the bell and hopped from foot to foot. “On my way,” Lydia called from inside the house. The knot in Emily’s throat loosened enough for her to catch a full breath. Lydia’s eyes popped at the unexpected guest. She ushered in and the teenager nearly ran into the living room.

  Lydia took a glance around the block, from the safety of her front door. Nothing stood out as abnormal or menacing. “Was someone chasing you?” She questioned. Emily just shrugged.

  “They could have been.” Emily plopped reckless and boneless onto the couch. She tossed her grimy boots over the arm and flung herself back. Lydia smiled. Joan often struck the same hapless and dramatic pose of frustrated surrender. It tickled Lydia that Emily felt safe enough to do the same. Then again, the girl might just lack decent manners.

  “Who could have been?” Lydia sat in the easy chair opposite the couch. It smelled of Ethan’s cologne. She snuggled up, mentally, to her absent husband.

  “I’m not sure. I’m just scared. “Emily laced her fingers together and twisted them in worry. She bit her lip until Lydia was afraid it would bleed.

  “Well, as long as Mr. Mike knows where you’re at and gives his permission, you’re welcome to stay on my couch until you feel safe again. I’d love to offer you more than a place to hide. I would love to help you. But I need to know what’s going on. What's made you so afraid?”

  Emily sat straight and stared into the Christmas tree lights. “You will be mad.”

  “It’s possible. I do promise to listen with an open mind. Go ahead, when you’re ready.”

  “I lied to you. But I had to. I promised. You don’t understand. You’ve got this nice house and a nice family. We have none of that. We only have our friends and even they move and change.”

  “Who are we?” Emily’s eyes shot from the ornaments to Lydia and then back.

  “Me… and… me and Ivy.” Lydia struggled to keep her expression steady and not attack the child with questions. “I’ve been talking to her. After you asked me about her, the first time
.”

  “Then she’s safe?” Though her face hid her frustration and fear, her voice echoed excitability.

  Emily’s eyes teared, and she crumbled back onto the couch cushions. Lydia sank to her knees. She was positive horrible news was coming but comforted the misguided girl. Emily took her nearness as an invitation to solace and flung herself on Lydia’s neck soaking her shoulder in tears. Finally, she said “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her in nine days.”

  “Nine days!” Lydia added up all the damage that could happen to a teenage girl in nine days’ time. She also remembered that Martin Levere wasn’t in the hospital for seven of those days.

  Emily took Lydia’s expostulation as pointed wrath and separated from the embrace. She propped herself against the couch and dried her eyes. Lydia patted her foot, trying to show she was undisturbed but eager for the truth. “We had a system. She was afraid of being caught and being sent back to Don. I can’t imagine what he’d do to her, then!”

  “Would Don hurt her?”

  “Would he? He has! More than once. Ms. Annie kept her safe but once Ms. Annie died it all changed. He’d show up in her room, late at night, drunk and stupid and angry. He’d try to… well do worse than hit her. She always got out, somehow. She said it was God’s hands helping her. But why would God put her in that situation, anyway? Why would God do that to anyone?”

  A conversation for another time, Lydia thought as she said, “That’s a tough question.”

  “Rumor has it, Don murdered Ivy’s mother. Long before Ms. Annie was living with them. Ivy remembers Don beating her up. Ivy would sneak next door and wait it out. That’s what her mother taught her to do. She doesn’t remember how her mom died. She was too little at the time. Don would never tell her.”

  “What about Ms. Annie? She must’ve known what happened.”

  “Nope. She was living in another state. She moved in afterward. The house was hers.”