Enamel

by Tim Sabados

  Anguish rocketed from the man’s throat. He stumbled forward, lost his balance and fell on one of the girls and her mother. Aryssa held onto him with both arms and used the momentum to roll to her side while at the same time pulling the assailant across her body and flinging him to the floor.

  The man slid and then crashed into the dresser. Bottles filled with perfumes, lotions, nail polish, and who knows what else, tumbled and crashed onto the floor. Glass cracked. Others shattered. Liquid splattered. Several candles tipped over. Papers and a book ignited. Flames licked the drooling liquid then leapt to the floor and onto the assailant. The man screamed in pain as he violently beat at the flames spreading over his clothes.

  * * * * *

  Mary gasped. Zoe screamed. Mackenzie howled with the shock of being abruptly awakened. The darkly dressed man standing over Zoe filled Mary’s vision. The sudden surprise in his eyes quickly wrinkled into an expression of anger.

  The dam to Mary’s maternal instinct burst open, poured into her veins and flooded her limbs. She tossed the blanket upward, sprang from the bed and threw herself into the stranger.

  She gave it everything she had. Forced the man to stagger backward and spin in a circle. He grunted. Still Mary held on tightly. Bit into the blanket that partially covered the stranger’s head. She clamped down on what she thought was his ear. He yelped in pain and flailed his arms until he managed to somehow grab hold of Mary. She was no match to his domineering strength. He tipped sideways and easily flung her off him.

  For a brief second, Mary was weightless. She crashed hard into the small table near the window. Searing pain pierced her hip and rifled up her side. She careened onto the floor. Her body convulsed. Air burst out of her lungs, forcing her to gasp for a breath. The edges of her vision darkened. Above her a flame snared the curtain and tufts of fire quickly climbed the volatile fabric.

  The stranger bounced off the wall, staggered but managed to regain his balance. He shook the cloud of disorientation from his head. With outstretched arms he jumped toward a cowering Zoe.

  Despite the intense pain, Mary rolled onto her feet and crouched. With all the strength she could muster she sprang at the assailant before he could reach Zoe. She smashed into him and dug her nails into his flesh.

  “Damn bitch!” he screamed. “Get off me!”

  The stranger writhed. Grumbled. He got his arms around Mary and tried to rip her off. She clung as tightly as her strength would allow. Wasn’t going to let go at any cost. A movement caught the corner of her eye. Who was that? She watched as a woman rolled across the bed and in one continuous motion stood and sent a kick into the man’s groin.

  His body convulsed with a pain-filled howl. The assailant stumbled backward and at the last possible moment he managed to turn just enough to place Mary between him and the wall.

  Smash. The numbing pain blasted across Mary’s back. She lost what little grip she had. The man snatched Mary, spun and threw her into the air.

  She was weightless again. Arms and legs drifted in front of her as she flew backward. Things seemed to move in slow motion. She saw the woman. The darkly dressed man. Heard a scream. She struck something pliable that immediately shattered. Light twinkled off the shattered glass as she flew through the window and into the bushes.

  Thud. A dull thump reverberated through her head. Pain fanned through her scalp, swirled into her brain and sent shooting stars zipping across her vision. She gasped before everything went black.

  * * * * *

  The fire spread and crackled with delight. Paint bubbled. Walls buckled. Smoke churned across the ceiling. The portly man screamed in pain as he desperately beat at the flames engulfing his body. He rolled across the floor, then crawled out of the room and into the hallway.

  Aryssa wasted no time in lunging at the man she had just kicked. The last time her aim had been off ever so slightly and she struck his inner thigh. Aryssa stepped and aggressively cocked her leg just as he turned to face her.

  This time she didn’t miss the soft spot between his legs. The hollow gasp of pain shot out of his lungs. Eyes opened wide. Legs buckled. He staggered into the wall, but managed to stay upright.

  Aryssa kicked again, but the assailant managed to snag her foot and fling her onto the bed. He lunged at her just as she recoiled off the mattress. She swung her foot upward and connected with the underside of his jaw.

  The man grunted. Head snapped. Anguish spread across his face. Eyes glazed as he sank to the floor.

  “Mommy!” a girl yelled.

  The stranger grabbed the edge of the bed and slowly stood. Quickly turned his attention on the room. On the flames. To the disappearance of his partner. Finally on Aryssa, poised to defend herself. He grunted with frustration and darted out the bedroom.

  Aryssa gasped for a breath. Then another. And another. Choked on the thickening smoke. The little girl with the bear coughed uncontrollably. The other screamed. “Mommy! Where’s Mommy?”

  There was no time to waste. The window was covered in flames. Aryssa grabbed each of the girls by the hand. “Come with me.”

  “But my mom,” the girl with the bear cried out. “I want my mom.”

  Her sister with the dog began to cry.

  Aryssa coughed. “Girls! Move it, now!” coughed again. “Or…or we die.”

  Their brows arched with fear. Tears dribbled down their cheeks. Aryssa yanked them off the bed. They were reluctant to follow, but Aryssa kept pulling. It didn’t take long before they were all running out the bedroom door.

  She led them into the smoke-filled hallway. Wood crackled. Drywall sagged. Flames filled nearly all the space between the walls. “Hold your breath!” Aryssa yelled.

  Aryssa’s legs trembled. She crouched and pulled the girls through the fire, but the end of the hallway was completely engulfed. Trapped. What to do? To her left she could just make out a door. Was it safe on the other side? There was no time to think; it was the only option. Aryssa thrust it open and dragged the girls with her.

  A thick veil of smoke hung in the air. More poured through the door and stretched its dirty fingers across the ceiling. Flames circled the walls behind them. They all coughed and gasped for a clean breath.

  Aryssa led the girls to the lone window at the far end of the room and flung it open. She sucked in the wave of fresh air. So did the two sisters. The flames fed on the fresh oxygen and burned brighter. Hotter. Alyssa grunted and kicked out the screen. She lifted the girl with the bear through the window, then her sister clutching the fuzzy dog. Finally she climbed through and staggered out into the rain.

  “Where’s my mommy?” the one with the fuzzy dog asked.

  “Where is she?” questioned the other.

  Aryssa coughed as she glanced back at the house. Flames poked through the windows, reaching their sinewy hands out into the open in search of something to grab onto. Something to feed upon. But the rain beat them back inside. “She’s safe.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Aryssa did her best to hide her uncertainty. More coughing. She looked out into the street. Around the yard. Were more of those men lurking out here? Waiting to pounce? She had to get these girls somewhere safe. Had to assume their mother was out of harm’s way somewhere outside the house. But where? Aryssa shook her head. This was not the time to try to figure it out.

  “Look, girls.” Aryssa coughed. “You have to trust me.” She paused to look over her shoulder. Nothing stirred except for someone across the street talking on a phone and pointing toward the flames. “I’ll get you to your mom, I promise. For now you need to come with me.”

  “When can I see…?”

  “I’ll find her.” Aryssa placed her hand over her heart. “We’ve got to go.”

  “You’re a stranger,” the girl with the dog advised. “Mom said to never go with a stranger.”

  Aryssa sighed. “You’re right. You shouldn’t.” Someone stepped out onto a porch. How would Aryssa explain what had just happened? Her presence i
n this part of the town? “But I’m also a friend who saved you and your mommy.”

  Whoosh! A ball of fire rolled out the nearby window. Somewhere glass shattered. The two girls gasped.

  “It’s not safe,” Aryssa explained. “We’ve got to go.” She grabbed the girls by the hand and nudged them into the shadows. Quickly led them down the street and away from the growing commotion surrounding the burning home.

  13

  The drizzle had to be the reason for the faint halo that circled the streetlights. Of course it blossomed around only the ones that actually worked. Charlie grunted to crack the quiet—break the near-somber stillness that made him shudder.

  The soft rain had managed to dampen most of the city’s vibrant undertones. Most, but not all. There was the distant sound of water flowing into a nearby drain. The squish of tires rolling over wet concrete. The plops of tiny raindrops diving into a puddle. The drips from an awning. Still, it was the thin layer of dew covering his shirt and skin that made him shiver. It didn’t matter though. Charlie heard the noises, felt the moisture, but was in no mood to give it any of his attention.

  There were other things occupying his mind. The fact that it was a slow night hadn’t helped matters. He slid his hand into his pocket and fiddled with the lone coin. Solemnly bowed his head as he walked. Then there was Aryssa.

  What had he done that made her skip out like that? Leave him staring at the melting ice in her Bloody Mary. How many times had the waitress come up to the table to ask if he wanted another beer? If he was ready to order food? If his friend would be back soon? The waitress had to have known. Knew that Aryssa had run out. Charlie could practically hear the whispers. The gossip that spread like wildfire among the workers. Even though he was tucked away near the back of the bar, he was still openly exposed to the embarrassment.

  A balloon of frustration inflated and Charlie’s internal thermostat spiked. The heat of anger billowed from under his collar. “Why!” He tightened his body to prevent his mushrooming annoyance from tearing him apart.

  “Of all the lowdown things to do!” Charlie opened his mouth to scream, but at the last second swallowed everything that was ready to explode out of him.

  The aggravation swirled back down his throat and became lost in the loops of his gut, leaving the apparition of melancholy to fill the void that remained. Charlie sighed. Shoulders stooped. Why had Aryssa agreed to meet him for lunch and then blown him off?

  He stopped to look at the factory across the street. The chill of dread snaked around the bones of his spine. His fingers trembled. The hair along his arms and neck stood like terrified children standing outside a dilapidated and vine covered home.

  The factory had been abandoned for as long as Charlie could remember. There were no lights. No movement. No sound. The crumbling façade was hidden by the shadows of darkness. It was the decaying ruin of a once-prosperous past. The gaunt arms of its smokestacks labored to reach upward only to be swallowed by the dismal night. Water towers buckled inward, emaciated from the want, or maybe the lack of anything to fill their stomachs. The place was nothing more than a gloomy entity silently dying from years of neglect. Slowly wasting away, bit by bit, mutating into the dust and grime below its rotting foundation. Still, something pulled Charlie toward it. Something inside begged for his attention. What was it?

  That familiar tingle mixed with drops of curiosity trickled through his veins. Tonight, for some reason, it was stronger. More pronounced. Charlie listened for some kind of noise. Watched for some semblance of life. Searched for a reason why he felt compelled to go over there. Instinctively he took a step toward the curb and…

  “You’re no good, you’re no good, that place is no good!” a male sang.

  That voice…it sounded so familiar. Charlie turned toward the singing. A solitary figure weaved amongst the cones of light cast by the street lights.

  “Let me say it again…you’re no good, you’re no good, that place is no good.” The figure spun in a circle. Wiggled his finger at the factory. “No good, I tell ya!” Slid sideways with his arms extended. Drew closer to Charlie.

  “Johnny?” Charlie asked, assurance filling his tone. “Is that you?”

  The figure stopped and let his arms fall to his sides. “Maybe.” A pause. “Depends who’s asking.”

  “It’s me—Charlie.”

  “Charlie?” Johnny questioned guardedly. “Charlie the boat guy?”

  “The one and only.”

  Johnny clapped his hands together. “Well, alright.” His head bobbed as he walked toward Charlie. “Should’ve known that I’d see you this time of night.”

  “You’re just as much of a night owl as I am,” Charlie stated. “Looks like you’re having a good time in this rain.”

  Johnny spun. “Feeling the groove deep inside.” Brushed his hand down his torso. “A little Linda Ronstadt to help me get by that…that,” his hand gestured wildly at the factory, “that no-good of a place.”

  Charlie nodded his agreement. “It is kind of scary.”

  “Kind of?” Johnny’s smacked his thigh. “It’s totally scary.” A shadow of fear fell over his face. “Nothing good in there. Nothing.” Shook his head. “Don’t go near it. Not anymore.”

  “You’ve been in there?”

  “Once.” Johnny paused. “Maybe twice.” Held up three fingers. “Okay, three or four.” His body shuddered. “More. Had to have been more. Don’t like it, though. Not at all.”

  Charlie shifted uneasily. He had purposefully avoided it. Suppressed the occasional lure to be an urban explorer. But why was he drawn to it in the first place? What was pulling him toward it? “Why don’t you like it?”

  “Things,” Johnny answered vaguely. “Just things. There are…there are…” He ran his hand over his hair and gripped the back of his head. “You know, they want me to go in there. But I try not to. I really do. Make myself avoid that place. Go somewhere else.”

  “It must be tough,” Charlie said somewhat softly. It looked like Johnny was falling into one of his chaotic moods.

  “You’ve no idea the things they try and make me do. No idea.” Johnny jabbed his arm toward the factory. “There are…there are…they want me to take them out. Take them…” He bowed his head. “They keep trying to make me do that.” A grunt. “It’s them…not me. But…but someone’s got to get them out of there.”

  “Who, Johnny?” Charlie questioned. “Is someone in there?”

  “Not just someone. Many someones.”

  Charlie glanced at the dilapidated building. Nothing stirred. That familiar chill returned. Were there people inside? Someone other than an occasional bum? “If someone’s in there, shouldn’t we get the cops?”

  Johnny shook his head so uncontrollably that his torso shifted in unison. “No, no, no, no…” He suddenly stopped and looked right at Charlie. “They’ll never find them. No, no, no. No one can.” Tapped his cheek. “Unless you know how to look. But still…” he sighed heavily, “it’s too much. They’re watched by…by…by them. Can you see what I’m saying?” Johnny rocked side-to-side. “They want me to go and get them, but they’re hard to find. I know…I know the way. You got to make it past the others if you can.” He pointed at the far end of the factory. “That’s if they don’t see you first.” A tense pause. “That’s a whole other thing that I can’t even speak of because…”

  Charlie reached out to steady Johnny. “It’s okay. You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He laid his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “It’s my fault for bringing this up. I didn’t want to make you…”

  Johnny stiffened under the touch. He peered deep into Charlie’s eyes, seemingly probing them. “Something happened to you. Something that…”

  It was as if some kind of hand reached into Charlie. It wasn’t cold. Wasn’t warm, either. With the faintest of touch its fingers could sense events, emotions—the very currents that zipped along his nerves. Charlie shut his eyes, pulled his hand off Johnny’s shoulder
, stepped back and scowled. “What are you doing?”

  Johnny held up his hands defensively. “Nothing, man. Nothing.” He let his arms fall. “You’re good people. Always good to me. Always. Don’t want to mess that up.”

  The strange sensation evaporated like water on July asphalt. Charlie shivered. What had just happened? Was it nothing more than his imagination? “It’s okay, Johnny,” Charlie said apologetically.

  Johnny was quiet for several seconds. “You know, there’s a reason.”

  “A reason?”

  “Yeah, a reason. She’ll tell you.” Johnny scratched his ear. “Got to ask, though.”

  “Her?”

  Johnny strolled by Charlie. “You know who it is.” Touched his chest. “I don’t, but you do.” Didn’t stop walking. Didn’t look back. “Got to ask her.”

  “What should I ask?”

  “You know,” Johnny answered. He pointed at the factory. Shook his hips. “You’re no good. You’re no good, that place is…”

  Charlie continued to watch Johnny sing. Watched him grow smaller and smaller the farther down the street he went. Watched as the night finally swallowed him and digested the last bits of his voice. Charlie shrugged uneasily. Was Johnny talking about Aryssa? Did he know what had happened? Was he trying to tell him to talk to her?

  His thoughts endlessly looped as he headed home. Lunch with Aryssa. Her sudden disappearance. The embarrassment when he paid the bill. His rollercoaster of emotions. Another slow night. Meeting Johnny. The factory. Johnny’s cryptic message.

  Charlie trudged up the stairs inside his apartment building. A lone drop of water broke loose from his rain soaked hair and trickled down his forehead. The wood groaned under the weight of his boots. Johnny’s advice raced along the circular track in his mind. Johnny had to have been referring to Aryssa. But how did he know what had happened?

  Charlie reached the landing at Aryssa’s floor. Light slipped through the tiny crack under her door. She had to be home. Should he knock? Demand an explanation? His gut gurgled with irritation. She had left him sitting in that bar all alone. He deserved a reason.