Fly With Fire

by Frances Randon

  Zack stood outside the elevator with his heart racing. “What the Hell?” He wanted to go after her. His keys, everything, were in his condo. What was she doing? How did she get here?” He made his way glumly but quickly down the hall. Cherisse waited in the living room, hand on her hip. Zack closed the door and faced her. “Look, Cherisse…”

  “You keep your dance card full, don’t ya?” Cherisse placed her hands on her hips and pulled her lips tight as if she’d just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say, but right now I gotta go. Please…I have to…we have to talk. Me and the woman who…we have to talk. Zack floundered with embarrassment and waited for the cat’s claws.

  “Did you know you had it this bad before our date? Or did you realize it just now?” Cherisse slid her finger down his cheek. What now? She gazed at him placidly. He would have felt safer with bared teeth. She hadn’t somehow concealed a knife in that skimpy outfit had she? He mumbled apologies. She turned and picked up her bag where she had tossed it on the sofa. “I think this dates over. Thanks for dinner. I’m gonna stop in and say ‘Hi’ to Mrs. Powecki. If I were you, Detective, I wouldn’t waste any more time.” She sauntered to the door. “You’re a great guy, Zack. Hope it works out for you. If it doesn’t, you owe me a night out. She opened the door and began to exit with a wink.

  “Cherisse.” Zack stepped over to her.

  “Yeah?”

  “You do do character.”

  She flashed a perfect smile, “You betcha, big guy.”

  Nine

  Zack was down to his car, keys in hand, before he realized he had no idea where she was going. The airport? Was there a flight to Montreal this late? The hotel? He’d try her cell phone. He pulled out onto Indiana with his cell phone out, remembering it was illegal in Chicago to talk on a cell phone and drive. Call a cop, he thought. He dialed several times. Her voice came on inviting him to leave a message. He didn’t know what to say and hung up. He made the right onto Roosevelt heading toward the Drive. He glanced at the gas station and saw it. O’Hare Express Cab. It was parked in the space nearest Roosevelt, several spaces down from the entrance to the store.

  He pulled in and saw the driver leaning against the back of his cab tapping the truck to Indian sounding music while staring at his smart phone. A man without legs sat in a wheelchair outside the entrance to the store. It was his usual spot. Zack dropped a buck on him as he passed by eyes open for Mo. He didn’t see her and wandered around. Ladies. He knew the gas station had bathrooms. He decided to wait outside knowing she’d have to come back to the cab. He brushed by a gray haired black man wearing sunglasses and went to his car. He leaned against it watching for Mo. “Hey, pal, you heading to the airport?” The driver nodded with a friendly smile.

  “Bring lady down, take lady back up. All the way down here for five minutes. You Americans! But she nice lady.” He bobbed his head in agreement with himself as well as with the music.

  Mo had gotten sick again in the rest room heaving on an empty stomach. She realized she had not eaten the entire day. She’d grab a bottle of water and head to the hotel. She could get a flight in the morning. Her stomach ached from the heaving. She felt clammy and wondered if she were coming down with something. Reality. “I’m coming down with a good dose of my own medicine,” she said under her breath. She got a bottle of water out of the cooler and stopped for a moment at a display of cookies and crackers in personal serving size cellophane bags. Crackers might be helpful. Gram had always given her crackers when she was sick. And ginger ale. But she rarely drank soda now.

  She turned out of the aisle and noticed one person in line in front of her. She stared at magazine covers while hearing him ask for a pack of Kools. Then she heard “Gimme all the cash,” so calmly it took a second to register. She looked up and saw that the man two feet from her held a gun in both hands aiming it directly at one of the two clerks. She turned to stone, time stopping as the gun loomed in her vision. “Be cool, be cool,” the clerk said. The other one held his hands up, eyes on the gun. “I’m getting the money, be cool,” the first clerk assured the robber. Mo stood still and watched the man flick the gun a couple times to hurry the clerk up. The clerk was dumping money on the counter.

  “I need a bag, mother, put it in a bag.” Now his voice became agitated. He let go of the gun with one hand and pounded the counter once before grabbing a wad of bills and stuffing it into his pocket. Some kind of dust seemed to fly off him as he moved. Mo inhaled some and coughed. The man swung around and almost hit the side of her face with the gun.

  “Fuck, bitch, get on the floor. Hurry up with that money.” He aimed the gun at her while she did as he ordered. “Don’t move. You gotta car here? Answer me, you gotta car?”

  Mo struggled to answer, croaking out the words, “I’m in a cab.” She spoke toward the floor. A pang in her stomach made her gorge rise. She forced it back.

  “Get up, you walk out in front. Don’t touch nothin’; I’ll kill ‘er.” He grabbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt yanking upward. He held a plastic bag of money in the same hand. It was then she realized there were a number of people in the store. They stood still as statues watching her being pushed out the door with a sense of relief on their faces.

  She felt the gun in her back. It dug into her lower spine. She looked straight ahead. The robber hesitated. There were lots of cars in the parking lot but no people. He saw the cab on the right end of the parking lot with no driver in it. It registered with him that there was no one in the lot despite all the cars. The wheelchair was gone. Suddenly, there was no one on the street. He heard sirens that seemed to be getting closer from just a few blocks away. Lots of cops in this neighborhood, he thought. The mayor lived right down the street. Shit. He pushed her toward the cab then changed his mind and pulled her backward toward the car wash belonging to the gas station. He could cut through the lot and maybe outrun the cops who were on their way for sure.

  Mo was pulled backward toward the carwash then turned and pushed forward with a sharp jab of steel in her back. Through a window she saw a car inside covered with colored foam. Another car sat waiting, running with no driver, the driver side door open. “Look, why not let me go and take this car before it’s too late.” She was hoarse, her voice cracking like a riverbed in a drought. He gave her a push toward the car. “Get in, you drive.”

  He held the gun toward her as she went around. He reached down and found the passenger door locked. “Fuck, open the door, unlock the goddamn…” A wrecking ball hit him from behind. His face flew toward the pavement. The gun in his hand went off, the shot striking the fifty cent air machine which gave off air with a whoosh. The running car lurched forward and ran into the automated cash intake machine which started repeating “Please select from the following menu. Ten dollars for the ultimate wash. Nine dollars for…” Zack grabbed the man’s wrist so hard it almost snapped. He beat the fist holding the gun from his position on his back. He dug a knee into the robber’s spine, all his weight on the lumber section. The gun flew as the man shrieked with pain. Zack yanked both arms behind the man’s back and cuffed him. He was just in time to hold up his badge as police cars screeched in from all directions.

  Mo felt a hand on her shoulder. She gripped the wheel of the strange car. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what was happening except that a shot was fired as she reached to unlock the passenger door. She thought he had shot at her. She had sprung back and grabbed the wheel ready to take off and crashed the car into the machine. The car stalled and she froze waiting for the next shot. She didn’t even know Zack had tackled the robber. Zack? His voice. “Mo. Monica!” She looked up with incoherent disbelief. Zack. “Mo. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “Zack? I…I…” She was pulled out of the car. His arms were around her. Lights were flashing but it was as though her hearing had suddenly been turned on and the sirens were deafening. She put a hand on her ear and pressed the other against Zack�
��s chest and shook. He kissed her head and stroked her hair. He slowly prodded her to a police car and asked the officers to cut the sirens. She looked up and saw the dusty robber having his head pushed down as he was being put into the back a cruiser. “How did you…?”

  “It’s okay. It’s over. Sit in here.” he helped her into the back of a cruiser. “I have to talk to them a minute.” He lowered himself over her leaning into the car. “Your okay, baby, you’re okay.”

  “I was waiting in the parking lot for a friend to come out. A cabbie I was talking to suddenly pointed at the store yelling ‘Robber!’ I told him I’m a cop and told him to wave people away coming by foot off Roosevelt. I pulled my gun and flashed, cleared the parking lot. I called it in and watched the robbery in progress while securing the area. The perp took Mo, Monica, my friend, as a hostage and exited the store. I was to the side of the door. I didn’t want to get him excited and endanger Mo so I backed around the corner toward the carwash. At first I thought he was going for the cab or another car but he changed his mind. I think he got suspicious that everyone had disappeared. He pushed Mo toward the wash and spotted that car there. Will somebody shut that machine up?” A couple officers were trying to figure out what to do about the talkative cash intake machine.

  “I yanked the guy out of the car just before the perp with his hostage came around the corner. Luckily I had an opportunity to apprehend him without further incident. Although the gun he was holding went off. I think I heard it hit metal. That’s the guy there; that was in the car. You’ll have to ask him what he saw. I told him to stay down. I think he hid on the other side of the carwash. Ah, the Pakistani guy, the cab driver, he saw the perp pull his gun. Other witnesses inside. I’m sure your guys are on them. Look, the woman’s name is Monica Whitman. Can she give her statement in the morning? She’s been through enough. I’ll take responsibility.”

  “We’ve got enough to press. And here comes the press! Bring her to the precinct in the morning. Good work. We’ll get this guy tucked in.” The officer leaned into the car. “You’ll have to come in the morning Ms.…Ms… Well, your friend here is going to take you home, is that okay? Do you understand what I’m sayin’?” Mo nodded her head. She heard Zack’s side of the story as if listening through a tunnel. It was as if what she heard had no connection with her.

  “Come on, Mo.” He gently pulled her out of the car. She put her arms around him and clung to him. “My car’s around the front.” She managed to straighten herself and leaned on him a little. She felt as if she’d been awakened from a bad dream.

  “Where’s my cab? Did the driver go? I guess he left. Of course he left. My backpack.” She saw the cab driver talking animatedly with two officers. His turban had become unwound. He tried to straighten it as he gave his statement. Mo saw people all around. Some were giving statements. Those who had seen her taken hostage stared. The crowd of onlookers was growing. Zack steered her toward his car.

  “Ms. Lady! Ms. Lady! Oh, Allah be praised! Ms. Lady, policeman save you!” He interrupted his conversation with a police officer to put his hands together and raised them in prayer, “Allah be praised!”

  “I’m sorry I got you into this,” Mo shook off the stupor that had descended on her. “The meter’s running. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, Ms. Lady, don’t you worry. Man say you no go back to airport tonight. No worry, no worry I take extra money off from card. Allah look out for you. You lucky policeman come. You very brave!” He tried to arrange his turban but his hands were shaking nervously.

  “Thanks for the help. What’s your name?” Zack had his arm around Mo. He kissed her head unconsciously, looking at the cab driver.

  “Yosef. Yosef is my name. So happy to help.”

  “Where are you from?” Mo asked.

  “Pakistan. I am so grateful to Allah for your safety. I will get your bag.” He made for his cab.

  “Yosef!” Mo pushed away from Zack. “Look,” the driver handed her the bag. As she put her hands on her wallet she was relieved to recall that she had grabbed a five and left her wallet in the backpack. She pulled out her card. “You call me and I’ll arrange for you and your family to see the show out at Greendale. Firegirl! Next weekend. We’re on a break right now.”

  “You work there? At the Greendale? Wait I tell my wife! You are so kind. You must be big wig at coliseum. Thank you, thank you!”

  “Any night you want. And Yosef, don’t worry about the money.” He thanked her again and again and finally got in his car. As she turned she heard him on his phone, excitedly speaking to someone, probably his wife.

  Zack opened the passenger side of his car and helped her in. He pulled the seatbelt across her and buckled it pressing his lips to the side of her forehead. “Gave me a scare,” he whispered. He went around and as he climbed in to the driver side he looked at her. She gazed at him with eyes like dark planets. He felt himself caught in their gravitational pull. A tide of emotion swept over him. What if… ” There’s Abbi Dorfman, ten o’clock news. We’re outta here just in time.”

  “You shouldn’t have to drive me all the way back after all this.” Mo said as they pulled onto Prairie. “Thank you, for what you did. You saved my life, Zack. Oh, my God. You saved my life.” Her hoarse voice cracked. Her hands were on her face. She squeezed her hands against her eyes as if it would blot out the memory.

  “I’m a cop Mo. I did had I had to do. You have to give your statement in the morning. No sense goin’ back tonight. You can stay at my place.” He glanced her way. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “You don’t have to…okay, I’m too exhausted to argue. What about your…” She curled her knuckles into nervous fists on her lap as if preparing to punch some unwelcome truth away.

  “She’s just a friend. Lives in the neighborhood. Actress. Just a friend.” Zack pulled into the lot grateful the press hadn’t followed. He opened her door and helped her out for which she was grateful, her knees feeling as if they might give. He took her backpack slinging it over his shoulder and taking her hand headed for the side door to the building.

  “You always seem to be extricating me from the law. I must seem like a jabbering mess every time something happens.” The elevator started moving.

  “Having someone hold a gun on you is not just something. Nor is having a friend murdered. You’ve been pretty brave through it all. Most people would’ve pissed themselves, Mo. I’m not kidding.” He guided her off the freight elevator. His door was just steps from it. “Let me get you something to drink,” he offered as they stepped into his condo.

  “Thank you, yes, I’m parched. I went into the gas station for water. That poor cab driver got more than he bargained for when he picked me up.” She accepted the glass of water and drank the entire contents down forgetting about the sick stomach she’d had earlier. It rushed up on her and not knowing where the bathroom was she made a desperate lunge for the kitchen sink. Zack grabbed her braid and offered paper towels.

  “Have you eaten anything today?” He pulled her out of the kitchen area and to the sofa where he sat her down. He got wet paper towels and sat beside her.

  Mo took the towels and gratefully wiped her face. “I forgot to eat. I was at the airport. Zack, I felt so badly about how things were with us. You’ve been so kind. I just couldn’t leave without talking to you. I’m sorry I just showed up. Interrupted your…”

  “I wish you hadn’t taken off. Cherisse is just a friend.” No sense trying to explain his idiocy at the moment. “I felt badly too. I was going to call you. I’m sorry how it’s been the last few days. Look, let’s talk about it later. I’m going to make you a sandwich, no, don’t argue, you’re going to eat.”

  He gave her one of his tee shirts and a new toothbrush he had just bought but hadn’t opened. He cleared the dishes from dinner that were still on the table while she showered. He was not sure what her appearance at his door meant but he had felt close to losing her and he was still too rattled to question anything.

/>   In the shower Mo pressed her head against the bland beige tile with her eyes closed. She tried to clear her mind while the warm water beat down on her. Her entire body shook. Then she thought of Zack pulling her out of the car, holding her close with little kisses along her hairline. She reached up and touched there. Everything had happened so quickly and she had been so frightened. The image of the gun pointing at her flashed in her mind. She was okay. She was okay. She thought of Zack talking to the police with the blinding lights flashing. How did he…? He had followed her.

  She came out with a towel on her head in his big terry cloth robe. She was still thirsty and took another glass of water. The sandwich seemed to have done wonders for her stomach. Zach bit back the urge to lecture her on forgetting to eat. He was used to the sight of her in towel and bathrobe. What he wasn’t used to was her in his apartment in towel and bathrobe. What he’d never get used to was his reaction to how she looked in them. How could someone be so beautiful with a towel around her head? The kneejerk reaction was sexual. Then a layer of tenderness veiled the sexual impulse she aroused as he observed the vulnerability in her eyes. She had a young sweet face not everyone would call beautiful. Not in the traditional sense. Her small full lipped mouth mesmerized him. Her long black lashes framed her large black, slightly slanted eyes. With no makeup at all she seemed so young and fresh and innocent. Who would guess her body was hard and strong and she could do things most people wouldn’t be able to do with a lifetime of training. Outside of her profession there was no artifice to her. She could dress up when appropriate but her appearance was not something she seemed to think much about. For some reason he found that incredibly alluring. He had never really gone for the Cherisses except for the odd one nighter. He’d never been much of a one night stand kind of guy but he was human. Mo was different from any woman he’d ever known.