by R C Barnes
Ten, Todd had been lying in wait for me outside Cosmic Hearts. But how did he know I would show up there? Luck, I guess. He couldn’t have grabbed me outside of the house as there were too many witnesses. Telegraph Avenue was the right spot to snatch me. Even though there is a lot of traffic, with the homeless, the drug users, and the squatters at various places, people look away more.
Eleven, he didn’t know about the meaning of Maxine. He wanted the key to the safety deposit box, and he figured I knew where it was. He was waiting for me, and I had run right up to him. I was too excited with the realization I had solved the puzzle.
Twelve, I had wanted to have the key in my possession before dealing with Todd. I would have the upper hand, and I could clear the box of whatever else was in there outside of the drugs. Now I was worried about what else Todd could get his hands on. Were there papers involving the house and the tattoo studio? Could Todd take everything we owned? Legally, I didn’t think it worked that way, but I was still worried.
Thirteen, I wish Rueben was here because he would have the answers to all these questions. Shit, I wish Rueben was here because then he could untie me, and I could escape.
Escape.
Believe it or not, it took that long for the idea to register. I could escape.
MACKEY’S BACK
First things first, I peed my pants. I had to get that out of the way. A person can’t plot their escape if their mind is focused on their bladder. I knew it would eventually dry, and the situation demanded it. Still, the act of defiling myself set off a fit of raging anger within me. I hated Todd for so many reasons, and now I had a fresh wet reason contributing to my determination to get out of there.
The space I was in had no light, but my eyes had become accustomed to the darkness long enough to distinguish the different mounds of blankets and fast food containers. I needed to find something; a nail or screw, a plastic knife from the take-out food - something to loosen the rope on my hands and feet. Todd had tied my hands together, but only my feet were fastened to the chair. I made a silent prayer of thanks Todd hadn’t tied my hands behind me to the chair. That would have made things more difficult. Then again, my situation was challenging enough.
I braced myself for what I was about to do. I rocked the chair back, tilting it with my feet and creating momentum until it fell backward with a slam. My head hit the hard warehouse floor, but since I had prepared myself for the impact, I was able to lift my head up a little bit, so the thud wasn’t that bad. It was still bad, though. Dazed, I lay there on my back, feeling like a turtle or one of the horseshoe crabs from Ian Kramer’s tattoo.
I took a couple of deep breaths through my nose in preparation for the next movement. I rocked myself again. This time my hips were doing most of the work. I flipped myself on my side and got my hands situated so I could push myself into a crawling position. Initially, I planned to roll with the chair to the clump of blankets closest to my location. However, with my knees on the ground and the chair on my back, I realized I could move inchworm-like across the floor. This hurt like hell, and I was so glad I was wearing jeans and not shorts. My knees were going to a mass of bloody scrapes and bruises after this was over. IF this was ever over.
I inched my way to the closest pile of blankets. My hands patted around the area, seeking anything sharp enough to cut the ropes. Disturbing the mounds released a foul smell of sour body odor and mildew. There was a ratty jacket rolled up for a pillow. I searched the pockets and found a lighter. This could work, but I didn’t want to burn the ropes off. I’d burn my ankles and my fingers and increase the pain I was already experiencing to a whole new level.
Farther to my left was another pile of stuff for me to check. I started to inch my way over. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. I wondered if the police had caught Todd at Cosmic Hearts while he was checking every moon-shaped light or picture we had. There was a lot. If the police were following my phone, then they would be led to Todd. They might have him in custody by now. However, Todd could refuse to tell them where I was. His donkey ass might go for days before he mentioned where I was.
I reached the second pile of trash and discarded belongings. There were torn up paperback books, burned plastic cups and bowls, and a mirror. I saw the telltale signs of white powder on the glass of the mirror and began to frantically check the area for the item I prayed I would find. I did. I found it, and I felt like weeping.
Grasping the razor in my fingers, I steadily sawed away at the bindings at my feet. I thought I’d start there on the off-chance Todd returned. I could run if my legs were free.
The rope fell away from my ankles. I gingerly stood up and away from the chair. OW. I thought I was going to faint from the pain. My legs cramped, and the dried blood on my knees separated from the jean fabric. I hurt and stank, but at least my crotch was dry. I worked the razor on the rope around my hands. I don’t know how people do it in the movies without cutting themselves, because I nicked myself many times, but I got my hands free.
Next, the nasty scarf was removed from around my mouth. Every muscle in my body was strained and sore. I leaned against a wall and took deep breaths to fill my lungs and spat out the stench of Todd’s scarf. I was free, but I was in bad shape. I didn’t think I’d be able to walk. If I threw my body in the direction I wanted to go, maybe I could wobble and stumble out.
That’s when I heard it. A car pulled up and halted with a screech. I held my breath and listened. Who was it? Could it be the police searching for me?
I heard a voice scream out, “You fucking bitch!”
It was not the police.
I could hear his screams as he stormed into the warehouse and slammed the door behind him. My heart thumped wildly, and I placed a hand over my chest, willing it to slow down. Breathe, girl. Wait him out. He might not find you.
He charged through the vacant spaces and headed up the stairs to the area where he had left me. His curses were wild and crazed. He sounded like a roaring dragon.
I had no choice but to hide. There weren’t a lot of options. The only way out of the building that I was aware of was the door Todd had come through. I couldn’t roll myself up in the plastic sheeting of one of the mangy blankets on the floor. In the far corner, a wooden structure like a loft was erected. It looked like the type of scaffolding painters use when reaching high areas. It was about three stories tall. It didn’t look sturdy, but someone had taken ropes and tied the wooden base to two window frames at the top of the walls to steady it. There was a makeshift ladder with planks of wood nailed to twin poles, and it leaned against the structure. It was dark at the top. I figured if I climbed up and lay flat, I wouldn’t be seen.
That’s what I did. I gritted my teeth and climbed. The ladder was flimsy as hell, and I wondered who had constructed this gem of failed carpentry. But here I was using it, so I guess I had to be thankful. The top of the scaffolding was rickety, but there was enough room for me to lie flat. Moldy bedding was lumped in the corner, and some hung over the platform. I hoped if Todd looked up, he wouldn’t see anything but darkness and cloth appearing to be an abandoned bed. I also hoped Todd didn’t have a flashlight.
He entered the room where he had left me tied to the chair and saw I had escaped my bindings. He cursed loudly. A string of “fucks” leaped from his mouth. He glanced quickly around the room, tossed the old clothing around, and left. I could hear him pulling up plastic sheeting as he charged through the halls, searching for me. I lay still and held my breath.
I thought about knocking the ladder over but knew Todd would hear it falling to the floor and quickly return. In addition to the lumps of bedding, there were long lengths of rope discarded on the platform. I realized whoever used this as a sleeping area, had needed the lines to strap themselves to the scaffolding so they wouldn’t roll-off.
There was a long silence. I couldn’t hear any movement coming from Todd. I waited. My eyes focused on the entryway where the stairs led up to the floor. And then I heard him. Act
ually, I saw him first. As a glow of light began to ascend the stairs. His steps were soft now as he had to walk carefully to keep the flames going on the torch he had cobbled together. Todd had taken a discarded piece of clothing and wrapped it around a decaying broomstick. The torch burned bright, illuminating the entire area. Shit. I had left the lighter down there, and he had found it.
“I know you are here,” Todd spoke. His voice carried across the vast open space. “You didn’t leave. You may have untied yourself, but you didn’t leave this building. I’ve searched everywhere, and this is all that is left.” He held the torch high and approached the scaffolding. “You must be up there.”
I bit down on my lips and held my breath. Maybe if he didn’t see anything with the torch, he’d give up and go back down to the ground floor. But then the platform began to sway and lurch, and I knew Todd was climbing up the ladder. His movements were jerky as he held the torch with his left hand and used his bandaged right arm to hook around the wooden planks on the poles and hoist himself up. The platform swung like a hammock, but the ropes securing it to the high windows overhead held - but just barely.
I knew once he reached the top, he would be able to see me, so I pushed myself up and got into a crouched position. I was as far away from Todd and the ladder as possible, right on the edge of the platform. I didn’t look down. If I looked down, I would lose my nerve. In my hands, I clutched the rope I had found within the abandoned bedding.
Todd’s eyes cleared the platform and looked in my direction. The torch slowly burned. The shadows from the flames flickered across his face. He looked like a demon. “There you are,” he said. I could hear the fury smoldering in his voice. “I have no idea why you lied to me. I told you what I would do. I take no pleasure in this.”
I didn’t say a word. I knew any word out of my mouth could betray what I was thinking.
I watched him pull himself up onto the wooden platform. He stayed low as the structure swung from his movements and added weight. “You’re surprisingly quiet,” he commented as he crawled in my direction. With each motion, the scaffolding rocked. “I guess we should be thankful for small mercies.”
I held onto the rope, biding my time. I waited until Todd was almost within reach to grab me. His eyes were focused on my face, so he didn’t notice the rope I held or that one section was tied to the end of the platform.
I leaped down and swung out on the rope. My hands burned as they slid down the line, and the rough fibers tore up my flesh. When I was about ten feet away, I dropped to the ground. The impact was hard. I landed badly, and one of my ankles snapped. I pitched forward and crumbled onto the floor. Another object smacked to the floor. My sudden leap had caused the platform to violently sway, and the ladder pitched over. Flat on the ground, I flipped myself over and looked up behind me. Todd was startled. He had toppled forward and dropped the torch. His hands grasped the platform as it shook.
I couldn’t walk, but I could move myself along the floor. The front of my jeans and knees were scraped raw from my earlier inchworm maneuver. Now, I was going to scrape up my behind. These jeans were going in the trash when I got home.
I stiffly pushed myself backward along the floor with my good foot. The other leg dragged. The pain from my ankle was intense. I cried out every time I moved.
Todd watched me from the swaying scaffolding. “Bess put the ladder back up,” he called down to me.
I panted and grunted in pain as I pushed myself away from him. I had managed to get about fifteen feet away. Suddenly, there was a cry of dismay. I looked up and saw there was a fire leaping up behind Todd. He had dropped the torch on top of the discarded bedding. The platform was burning, and his access to the rope I had used was blocked.
Todd screamed and knocked the blazing bundle over the side of the platform. He pounded the orange embers on the structure with his hands and feet. Howling, as his injured and bandaged hand smacked against the wood. “Put the ladder back up!” he shrieked.
“I can’t,” I gasped. “I can’t.” There was nothing I could do. I didn’t have the strength to push myself over to the ladder and hold it back up. I couldn’t stand myself. Also, when Todd knocked the flaming torch and bedding off the scaffolding, it landed on top of the ladder. The ladder was already burning. I tried to yell he should jump - that he’d survive the fall. But the smoke claimed my voice, and I started choking.
The whole area by the scaffolding was being consumed by fire. The plastic sheeting was burning, and chemical smoke filled the space. The smoke blinded me, and my chest heaved as my lungs cried out for air.
I couldn’t see Todd, but I could hear him. His anguished cries filled my head as the fumes and smoke from the burning plastic engulfed the room. Todd’s screams of terror turned into a high-pitched sound that wasn’t human, and then it stopped. All I heard was the snap and crackle of the flames.
I felt confused and sleepy. My head fell back onto the floor, and I knew I was about to close my eyes and give in. There was a crash as the burning scaffolding hit the floor.
My muscles collapsed, and my mind slowly drifted off. I thought I heard a voice shout, “She’s in here.” My last conscious thought was of cinnamon-scented fingers grabbing hold of my body and lifting me up.
CONFESSION
It was grumpy Detective Kline who pulled me from the fire. The police had found the car outside the warehouse. They were mounting a rescue when the smoke began to roll out of the windows on the third floor. Kline had stormed in and pulled me out before the fire trucks arrived. Thank goodness for that.
I was taken to the hospital and treated for smoke inhalation, and my injured ankle was given a cast. The scrapes and bruises were cleaned and bandaged. I refused to stay overnight and threatened to scream if they didn’t release me. One Wynters woman in the hospital was enough. I couldn’t stand the notion that both my mother and I were hospitalized. Also, I knew it would upset Echo. Our mother hadn’t returned from the hospital yet, and if I were there too, my sister wouldn’t be able to handle it. I had to convalesce at home.
I stayed in my room for days and, wisely, people left me alone. I was a storm of emotions, flashing anger, and despair. Sometimes, I would burst into tears for no reason. A person stepping across the threshold could receive a tongue lashing for looking at me. Only Echo was brave enough to enter my room. She’d bring happy drawings of Luther and me and Ollie and orange kittens. Echo would hang them up on the walls with tape to make me feel better. Before she left, she would inquire if I was ready for new riddles. “No, I’m too sick,” I would protest.
Rueben came by to see me, but I kept the visit brief. I wasn’t up to talking. I just wanted to wallow (SAT vocabulary word) in my gloomy funk. I promised him I would go into detail about the elements of Maxine when I was ready and sent him away.
Joanie sent a text message, “you, okay?“. I texted back “Y,” and after that, I didn’t hear from her. The thought of losing Joanie as a friend added an additional layer to the depression and grief I was carrying. It was my own fault, too, but what could I tell her?
After three days of letting me marinate in my stew of misery and rage, Ollie knocked on the door. He said it was time for me to make an appearance at the police station and give my statement.
During my session with Assistant District Attorney Blount, I told it all. There were hesitations, and the words trickled out slowly. Then they came faster, and the words I needed were presenting themselves and flying off my tongue. I talked about what Todd wanted of me and why and how he had threatened to harm Echo and destroy my family. I spoke of being caught between loyalty and love for Luther and the fear of my mother’s wrath. Swallowing, with my face burning and hands knotted in my lap, I talked about the anger at my mother and the resentment surrounding her leaving us vulnerable to Child Protective Services and the folly of drug dealers. I mentioned my search for the key to the safety deposit box and how I had been visiting the last clients of my mother’s. I didn’t mention the specifics of M
axine or, of course, my strange talent. Still, I made it sound like seeing these people helped guide me towards my mother’s emotional state. And to a certain extent, that was true.
And finally, with the feeling of charging over a cliff and plunging into a roaring sea, I talked about locating the key to the bank box, and my dangerous encounter with Todd. How he attacked me outside the tattoo studio, tied me up at the warehouse, and then started a fire that consumed him.
After I was done, my new buddy, ADA Blount, with the superstar tattoo on her wrist, thanked me. She collected her notepad and tape recorder and left the room.
Back when I was in the hospital, I told the police where the key to the safety deposit box could be located, and they had easily found it. Officer Lopez came by the house the following day to share the contents of the box. As hoped, the missing backpack with mounds of cash was stuffed inside. There were also multiple legal documents ranging from my mother’s will, the deeds on the house and Cosmic Hearts, and a vital piece of paper. Theresa Wynters had handwritten her request that the restraining order against Luther Tucker be lifted and he be granted guardianship of her two minor daughters. (Yes, she had fixed it.)
Even though ADA Blount had left the room, I remained seated at the metal table. My head was down. My fingers fidgeted. I wasn’t done. Detective Kline touched my shoulder. “Bess, is there something else?” he asked.
“Are they still recording?” I asked.
“The ADA took the tape recorder with her,” he replied.