“That would be so helpful, Dolores. So helpful.”
Dolores grabbed a pair of reading glasses from the counter and began to peck at her keyboard. “Just give me a second here.”
“Take your time, Dolores. I can wait.”
“What was the name of the town again?”
“Shallotte, North Carolina.”
She kept typing and scrolling. Eyes searching the screen. “Well, Amtrak doesn’t stop at Shallotte. Nearest town is Wilmington.”
“Okay. Perhaps Wilmington.”
Dolores stopped and tapped her fingernail against the screen. “Well. Here’s something. We had seven passengers leave here yesterday on Amtrak that was headed to Wilmington. And only one of those tickets was for a one-way fare to Wilmington. Maybe that’s your niece.”
Sinclair smiled. Reached across the counter and clutched Dolores’ arm. “You are a lifesaver, Dolores. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Dolores removed her glasses and squeezed his hand in return. “You go get that girl and bring her home to her baby.”
“Will do, Dolores. Will do.” He returned the flier to his breast pocket. “There’s certainly a place reserved for you in heaven.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
WHAT IF ELTON doesn’t even live there anymore?
The question had been kicking around inside Alice’s head for the last hundred miles. Elton could have moved, could be dead, or maybe he wouldn’t want anything to do with her due to the circumstances behind her abrupt departure from his home. After all the old man had done for Alice, after showering her with nothing but kindness and understanding, she disappeared without even saying goodbye. No thank-you. No note. No nothing. She simply walked out of his life as fast as she had walked into it.
Chances were good he’d given up the exterminator business and was enjoying retirement. Not everybody was like Alice, spinning their wheels, going nowhere, making the same mistakes over and over, and having absolutely nothing to show for her life.
I’ve got ninety-one thousand dollars to show for it, she tried to convince herself.
Even if Elton was still there, what could he really do for her? Let her sleep in his extra room, take her fishing with him, and oh, yeah, help her hide the money she had stolen?
No. She wasn’t expecting miracles. She was only hoping that Elton would tell her that everything would be all right. Make her feel safe yet once again. Maybe just listen to her and not pry or make her feel guilty about what she’d become. But the plain and ugly truth was that Alice felt as if she had no other options—not a single one—and she didn’t really know where else to turn or who else to trust.
So, Elton it was. Her one and only hope. In all reality, it was probably just another lousy idea that fit in nicely with all her other lousy ideas that left her running from problems and situations that she and only she created. But this problem, this situation, happened to be worse than anything that she had ever gotten herself mixed up in before. This one happened to be massive. And to make matters even worse, she found herself tangled up with Delilah, who shot a guy’s ear clean off his head. Maybe the junkie bled to death, but maybe not. If he survived, he’d be talking to the police about exactly who did it.
The best thing to do—the sensible thing to do—would be to cut her losses, ditch Delilah, and let the girl face her own lousy music. The girl may have been abused by her mother’s boyfriend, but that wasn’t Alice’s problem. The fact that Delilah shot him, too, that was Alice’s problem if she chose to let the girl stick around. The cops would be looking for the kid. Full name, full description, the city she fled from. Only a matter of time before the authorities caught up with her. And when that happened, Alice would go right down with her sinking ship.
Alice glanced over at Delilah and the girl stared right back at her.
“You’re gonna ditch me, aren’t you?” Delilah stated more than asked.
Alice turned her attention back toward the front of the bus and watched two college frat guys pass a bottle in a brown bag back and forth. “No.”
“Because I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I really wouldn’t. Probably the smart thing for you to do.”
Alice kept watching the frat guys drink from the bottle, laughing without a care in the world. She wanted to leap up, snatch the bottle from their hands, and tilt it back until it ran empty. She wanted to feel that familiar burn inside her stomach, then the comforting glow from within her head, and wait for the effects to pull her into a numbing cocoon, safe from reality.
“Yeah. You’re right about that. It would be the smart thing for me to do,” Alice said.
“So why don’t you?”
Alice finally returned the girl’s gaze. “Because I guess I’m not very smart.”
Delilah smiled. Actually smiled. The first time Alice had seen the girl express any form of joy, and the smile completely transformed her. She didn’t look like someone who shot two men and was on the run. She simply looked like a kid, a young girl whose biggest problem was that she had a crush on a boy that didn’t have a crush on her in return.
“Well, I wouldn’t say anything if you did ditch me. I mean, I wouldn’t tell anything about you to the police or anything if I got caught.”
Alice couldn’t help but smile back at the girl.
“What?” Delilah asked. “I wouldn’t tell the police about you. Really. You’ve been … I don’t know. Nice, I guess. You’re the only person that has been nice to me in a long time.”
“Me? Nice? You’ve got real problems if you think I’m nice.”
Delilah’s face flushed red a little.
“Another thing. You might want to consider not being so honest with people. That’s the first lesson I’ll teach you. Give that one to you for free.”
Delilah nodded. “Don’t be honest. Got it. Anything else?”
“Yeah. Stay away from drugs and assholes.”
“In that order?” Delilah asked with a smirk.
Alice played along. “Yeah. In that order.”
Delilah looked down at her lap, fingering the strap of her purse. “How old were you when you ran away?”
“Who says I ran away?”
Delilah didn’t buy it. “Uh-huh. So why did you?”
“Sorry. I’m not going there. I’m a closed book on certain topics, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Why?”
Alice didn’t answer and started to put the wall back up, brick by brick. Things were getting a little too personal. A little too intimate.
“You got any brothers or sisters?” Delilah tried again.
“Look. Let’s not confuse the situation we’re in together as friendship. Okay? I don’t have friends, and I’m not looking to make one.”
“Sorry. I was just curious. Wanted to get to know you a little better is all.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s not what I want.”
“Sorry.”
“You already said that. Makes you sound weak.”
Delilah opened her mouth. Started to say sorry again. Instead, she just pressed her lips back together.
Alice stood up, grabbed her duffel bag, and moved a few rows toward the front of the bus. She crouched down in the seat and closed her eyes. She needed sleep. She tried to block out the pain—inside her throbbing head, the aching rib, her burning ear and throat—but she couldn’t. Her body was wrecked. And not only her body, but her mental state as well.
And as she had wished for a thousand times before, Alice wished that she died that day instead of Jason.
* * *
It was a fifteen-minute layover in Goldsboro, a place where passengers were permitted to step off the bus, stretch their legs, and buy some crappy vending machine food—chips, cookies, candy bars, bags of pork rinds, and other high-salt, high-sugar snacks. Alice fed quarters into the machine and selected two Snickers bars, craving the chocolate and figuring that the peanuts would provide her with some much-needed protein. When she bent down to retrieve the candy bars, she mov
ed too quickly and a flare of staggering pain rippled throughout her side, causing her to twist and clutch at the bruised rib. She could feel the heat pulsate from under her shirt. It hurt like hell. She decided to take a peek. Check out the damage. She lifted her shirt and immediately regretted the decision. Her whole side was dark red, and it wouldn’t be long before it turned an ugly purple. She traced a finger over the bruised area and couldn’t help but moan—even the slightest touch aggravated the rib. Sharp stabs of broken glass churned inside her.
She stood slow and easy, praying that she wouldn’t move the wrong way. She needed something for the pain. Motrin. Tylenol. Either one would do. Probably should even wrap her sides with something. An Ace bandage. Something. Anything. She would need to find a drugstore for any of that kind of stuff.
The bus driver, a short, stocky Asian man, had instructed the passengers that fifteen minutes was the allotted time before the bus would shut its doors and pull out of the station. Not a minute longer. The driver wore white cotton gloves that were stained black on the fingertips, and his shirt buttons threatened to pop from their threads over a pronounced belly. A visor that read Greyhound perched right above his prescription sunglasses, and he had a toothpick tucked behind his ear. The bus driver had given those passengers who opted to disembark disapproving glances, knowing that each of them threatened to put him behind schedule.
Alice ate the Snickers bars, one right after the other, all the while searching the street for a drugstore. Didn’t see one, but she did spot a liquor shop across the street from the station. And just like any other liquor shop in Harrisburg, or Philadelphia, or Charlotte, or wherever, the token dregs of society hung out in front, smoking the last of their cigarettes, begging for change from customers coming and going. Those that managed to scrape together enough spare change promptly marched inside, made their liquid purchase, and drank from bag-covered cans in the parking lot, numbing themselves for a while until they repeated the vicious cycle all over again.
Alice wanted her own brown bag, preferably hard liquor. She had even crossed the street once to enter the liquor store, but stopped herself. She wanted to be clearheaded for a while. Needed to be clearheaded. She had to start making some sensible decisions. If she hadn’t been drunk, she wouldn’t have gone home with Terry. If she hadn’t been drunk, there was a good chance she would never have taken the money in the first place. The list could go on and on.
Stay the course. Just get yourself to Shallotte.
The two frat boys made their way back toward the bus, both wearing their baseball caps backwards and sporting Sigma Phi Epsilon shirts. The taller, better-looking one who probably did pretty well with college women, gave Alice a sweet smile, dimples and all. “Hey,” he said.
Alice locked eyes with him for a moment. He was cute, with his dirty blond hair and deep-blue eyes under thick eyelashes. Faded Levi’s and an intentionally snug shirt showed off a well-toned body. Alice might have been this guy’s girlfriend if she hadn’t let Jason die. She could be in college now, switching majors and pledging sororities and planning for spring break, instead of running with a duffel bag full of stolen money.
Alice didn’t say hey back. Didn’t smile. Instead, she returned her gaze toward the liquor store.
The rest of the passengers had already loaded back on the bus. She was the last. Fifteen minutes all used up. Right on cue, the Greyhound’s engine rumbled back to life and the entire bus rattled. Alice gave the liquor store one last glance, then climbed on board the bus as well.
The bus driver shook his head at her. “You’re pushing it.”
Alice shrugged. “It’s not every day you get to see Goldsboro.”
“Funny,” the bus driver replied and cranked the hydraulic doors closed behind her. “Not so funny for your friend though.”
Alice stared at the rear of the bus—the last seat empty. She walked back to Delilah’s spot, but the girl was gone. Her jacket, her purse, everything.
The bus rolled backwards and Alice grabbed at a seat to catch herself from falling. Her rib barked at the sudden movement, and she dug her fingernails into the vinyl seats.
“Fuck.” She said it louder than she meant to—confirmed by an elderly woman’s sour, disapproving look.
The elderly woman started to say something, to give Alice some kind of condemnation, but noticed the bruises on Alice’s throat and the bloody scab on her ear. A quick flash of discomfort, then a hint of fear swept over the woman’s face. Her mouth snapped shut and she stared toward the front of the bus instead.
Alice glanced out the windows, searching the parking lot for Delilah, but the girl was nowhere to be seen.
“Hold up. Give her a second,” Alice called up to the driver.
He stared back at her in the long mirror above his neatly combed hair. “No can do. Fifteen minutes.” He cranked the steering wheel to the left and shifted the bus into drive.
“Jesus Christ. Don’t be such an ass,” Alice spat.
Now all necks craned toward Alice, the frat boys smirking at the confrontation.
“Take a seat, please,” the driver instructed.
Instead, Alice marched up the aisle and stared down at the pear-shaped driver. “Give her another minute. She’s just a kid.”
“Not my problem. Take a seat.”
“Look … she’s a runaway. Give her a break.”
The driver tapped the brakes and forced the bus back into park. He rotated in his seat and poked a gloved finger toward Alice. “Well, maybe she ran away again. And again, not my problem. So, either take a seat or get off the bus.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
The driver’s face went a dark shade of red and he licked at his lips. “You got a mouth, young lady.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
The driver opened his mouth to say something else, but Alice beat him to the punch.
“Just open the damn door.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NOVEMBER 2005
ELTON PERCHED ON a green-and-white, foldable aluminum lawn chair at the edge of the deck, a fishing rod in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. The sun barely peeked over the horizon on the other side of the river, the day just getting its start. A slow, steady breeze swept along the surface of the water, rustled the branches of sweetgum trees, and tugged on the few remaining brown leaves that had yet to tumble loose. A few of them finally untethered, swirled and danced in the wind before settling on the face of the water and floating like miniature boats. Other than the song of the river rippling over rocks and fallen trees, the countryside was quiet and peaceful.
Alice walked out on the deck, still dressed in Elton’s pajamas, her hair going every which way. She plopped down on a chair next to him and gazed out over the river.
“Morning, kiddo,” Elton offered.
“Morning.”
Elton stared out over the river for a moment, sipped his coffee, and reflected upon the view. “Beautiful out here, isn’t it? I’ll tell you, even though I’ve sat in this same spot nearly every morning for over thirty years, I never tire of watching this old river roll on past. Never.”
Alice craned her neck, looking in both directions of the river. “No one else lives out here?”
“Just me and the birds.” Elton took another sip from his mug of coffee. “You sleep well enough?”
“Yeah. Pretty tired, I guess.”
“I imagine yesterday was a long day for you.”
Alice said that it was.
“Could’ve slept in.”
“Not really.”
“An early riser like me?”
Alice shrugged. “Used to waking up for school.”
“Ah. Right. School. You’ll be missing it today, I’m guessing.”
“Looks that way.”
He snapped the fishing rod back and played with the line. “What grade you in anyways?”
“Tenth.”
“Tenth grade. I hated tenth grade. And eleventh and twe
lfth, for that matter.”
“Why’s that?”
He set his mug of coffee on the deck and proceeded to reel in his line a little bit at a time. “For starters, I got picked on something terrible in school.”
“Really? Why?”
“Guess because I was different than everybody else.”
“You don’t seem different.”
Elton chuckled softly. “Tell that to the bullies of the world.”
She watched him reel the line in the rest of the way, then with a snap of his wrist, he recast, sending the sinker a quarter way across the river.
“You catch anything yet?”
“Nope. Usually don’t. Not much of a fisherman, sorry to say.”
“Why do you do it then?”
“Guess I like the challenge.”
They sat in the early morning silence for a few moments, both watching the river water pull on past. A hard gust of wind rustled through the trees, causing the branches to sway back and forth, and a pack of crows swooped by, settled in a clump of longleaf pine across the water, then set about cawing and cawing.
“Aren’t you going to call the cops? Tell them that I’m here?” Alice asked, but she didn’t look toward Elton, keeping her gaze on the flock of crows instead.
He shrugged. Took another sip of his coffee. “I don’t know. Guess I could. You steal something or commit some other kind of felony?”
“No.”
“Okay. Guess I don’t have to call the authorities about anything then.”
Alice finally peered over at the old man. “Aren’t you curious? About where I ran away from? Why I ran away?”
“Sure. I got all sorts of questions kicking around in my thick skull, but I figure that you’ll tell me when you’re good and ready. We all have our ways and reasons for doing what we do, and there’s nothing I can do or say to force you to pony up some answers. Kinda like trying to pull a tomato vine from the ground when it’s still ripe. It can be done, but it takes a helluva lot of sweat and elbow grease. I find that it’s best to let the plant be. Pull it out when it’s dead.”
The Guilt We Carry Page 14