Rescue Me

by Toni Leland

  “Great! Is he taking her home from here?”

  Julia ducked under the mare’s chin and frowned at Chet. “Of course not. Why would I sell her?”

  Confusion blazed across his leathery face. “Because you’re in the horse business?”

  She stared at him, unable to come up with a suitable response. He was absolutely right, but she adored Coquette and could not imagine life without her. Pain burned her throat as other thoughts crashed in, recent musings she’d been unable to keep at bay.

  Chet shook his head. “None of my business, but there’ll be hell to pay if Mr. Dorsey finds out you turned the offer down.”

  A strange chiming noise emanated from Julia’s vest pocket and she retrieved the new phone. The screen glowed turquoise, and “Dorsey International calling” appeared. Julia shivered involuntarily, then pressed the talk button.

  Stephen’s voice was low and relaxed. “Hello darling. I miss you already.”

  Julia’s voice squeaked. “Me too. How was your flight?”

  “Just fine, but I have good news. Everything’s under control here and I can be back tomorrow morning for your class. Nine o’clock?”

  Julia suppressed a sigh of disappointment. “Yes. That’s wonderful news.” She hesitated. “Are you coming in tonight?”

  “No, we’re taking the group to dinner and it will be a late night. I’ll fly down very early.” His voice became muffled and Julia heard a woman’s voice in the background. Stephen’s voice sharpened again. “I have to go now, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you, darling.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  “Julia?”

  “Love you too.”

  She disconnected and resisted the urge to throw the phone as far as she could.

  Chet had taken care of Coquette during the conversation and now he emerged from her stall. “I think I’ll go get some supper. You want to come along?”

  “Thanks, but no. I’ll get something later. I’d like to watch some classes.”

  Chet sauntered down the aisle toward the barn doors and she smiled at his bow-legged gait. He was a good worker and a good human being. It had always been comforting to have him around. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wondering just how loyal he might be.

  She moved to the wall and examined the class schedule. Several saddle classes were coming up, then the dinner break, then the first championship classes. She swallowed hard and stepped back, her heart racing. For so long, she’d believed this moment would come, but had always struggled with the idea. Meek, mild Julia do something daring and dangerous? Not likely. She gently touched the back of her head, feeling the crusty spot on her scalp and a soft throb of pain.

  Coquette’s head popped over the stall door and she whinnied, sending Julia’s heart into a downward spiral. The mare’s dark brown eyes seemed to reflect her instinct that something was different. Julia turned away, fighting the urge to step over the edge into the familiar abyss.

  The smooth wood felt wonderful beneath Julia’s fingers as she lifted the tack trunk lid and inhaled the interesting combination of aromas. She lingered for only a moment before lifting out the stack of blankets and coolers and setting them aside. Her extra show bridle and several shiny bits came next, followed by an assortment of brushes and combs. Once she’d emptied the trunk, she moved her fingers along the bottom edge until she found the small notch. The false bottom came up easily and she glanced behind her, pulse pounding. Don’t be silly—you just talked to him on the phone. She caught her breath. It wouldn’t matter where Stephen was when he called, his number would still show up the same on the screen. What if he hadn’t really left and he was spying on her? She gulped, struggling with the paranoid and fantastic scenarios that leapt into her mind’s eye.

  She whipped out the phone and dialed his number. A moment later, his voice came through crisp and clear. A background of laughter and music accompanied the clink of glasses and dinnerware.

  “Julia, what’s the matter?”

  She calmed her breathing. “Nothing. I just…well, I miss you and wanted to tell you I’m happy you’re coming tomorrow.”

  Annoyance colored into his tone. “Well, I’m very busy right now, so I’ll see you in the morning. Bye.”

  The line went dead and Julia rocked back on her heels. The man was a chameleon—or schizophrenic. She tucked the phone back into her pocket, then reached into the trunk. It didn’t matter, at least she knew where he was.

  The beautiful Coach shoulder bag sat on the floor beside her and she pondered for a minute. The bag was so distinctive and flamboyant it would stand out anywhere. All her research had reinforced one thing: reinvent yourself, leave the familiar behind. Reluctantly, she pushed the bag aside. From the depths of the tack trunk she removed a worn canvas tote bag, then tucked eight bundles of money into the bottom of the bag. A curly blonde wig, panties, bra, and socks went in next. She replaced the false bottom in the trunk and repacked everything exactly as it had been. She rose to her feet and plucked her handbag from a wall hook, then dug to the bottom of the purse to retrieve a pink tampon case. She opened it to check the prepaid phone hidden inside, then tossed the pink case into the canvas bag, and placed her handbag on top of everything.

  She unbuttoned her show shirt, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. The morning’s bruise was a humdinger now and it would be necessary to find some makeup. She dressed in jeans, a light blouse, and sneakers, then arranged her show clothes neatly on a hanger. The leather show boots slipped easily into the custom carrying case with her initials embroidered on the side. Scooping up the tote bag, she left the stall and checked on Coquette, then walked down the aisle toward the main arena. Music and applause filled the air, but sadness flooded her heart.

  Settling into a seat in the grandstand, Julia lost herself in the rhythmic display of a pleasure driving class. Beautifully turned-out carriages, sleek glossy horses in shiny leather harness, and ladies in gorgeous formal driving attire painted a picture unlike any found elsewhere. The judge asked for a reverse and the exhibitors carefully swung around and headed in the opposite direction, just moments before the call for line-up and the announcement of the winners. Julia leaned forward in her seat. Though she did not drive, she understood that quickening in the pit of the stomach, the nerves, the anticipation that this might be the big win. The announcer gave information about the dinner break, the show vendors, and what time the championship classes would begin. Moments later, the runners-up had accepted their ribbons, and the winner’s horse and carriage were flying around the arena at a fast trot. The crowd began to flow toward the exits and Julia stood up, surprised at the wobble in her knees. She clutched her bag close and headed back toward the stall area.

  Chet was not around. Julia glanced toward the barn doors. The light was fading, which was a blessing, as the temperature would drop to a more comfortable level. She opened Coquette’s stall door and stepped in. A deep chuckle drifted through the warm, horse-perfumed air, and Julia moved up close. She smoothed her fingers along the mare’s shoulder and over her back. A sob threatened in her chest, but she fought it. Wrapping her arms around Coquette’s neck, she laid her cheek against the sleek mahogany hair-coat and inhaled. Without warning, sobs wracked her body and she hugged tighter.

  “Oh, Miss Cokie, I love you so much. Please understand.”

  The mare nickered and turned her head to nibble on Julia’s shoulder, an action that brought on more sobs. Julia stepped back and Coquette brushed her muzzle against the top of Julia’s head, touching the gash in her scalp. A stab of pain reminded Julia why she was there. She took a deep breath, then reached up and stroked one silky ear.

  Her voice sounded hoarse. “You be a good girl, okay?”

  She turned quickly and left the stall, whisking away her tears.

  Chet was headed toward her and she tried to compose herself, pasting a forced smile on a wooden face that didn’t want to cooperate.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You okay?”

  S
he nodded. “Just tired and hungry. It’s been a very long day. I’ll be back in a while.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “Okey doak.”

  Adjusting the shoulder bag securely, Julia walked toward the soft early evening light at the end of the aisle. Coquette’s forlorn whinny followed her.

  Chapter 8

  Once outside, Julia walked quickly the length of the barn and entered the next building. The restrooms were in the far corner and she walked around the perimeter of the barn, rather than down the aisles where people were working or relaxing. The restroom was empty and Julia went into the farthest stall, latched the door, and quickly pulled the blonde wig over her hair. She left the stall and leaned on the sink to stare at the startling image in the mirror—blonde did not suit her coloring at all. She secured the wig and tucked a few wisps of her own hair out of sight. The overhead lights set her diamonds on fire and she exhaled slowly. The unique ring was worth at least twenty-five thousand dollars, but had no value to her and would be too noticeable. It would have to go, but not here. Taking a deep breath, she headed back out into the barn, looking for the nearest exit.

  Adrenaline rushed through her body, jacking up her pulse and making every breath an effort. She walked at an ordinary pace, resisting the urge to sprint toward the truck parked so far away. She glanced around the deserted parking lot. At this hour, everyone was inside watching championship classes. Her eyes welled with tears, but she angrily brushed them away. Don’t look back.

  The chrome door handle on the truck was still warm from the sun and, as she grasped it, she saw her reflection in the dark window. Who was this woman? More importantly, who would she become?

  She climbed up into the driver’s seat and let out a long breath as she gathered her thoughts. On the interstate highway outside the grounds, a steady stream of cars moved in both directions, the working world headed home. A city bus pulled to a stop outside the gate, disgorged several passengers, then pulled back into the heavy traffic.

  Loud voices beside the truck sent another shot of adrenaline through her body. She put on her sunglasses and peered through the passenger window at the two men laughing and shoving each other like teenagers as they threaded their way through the tangle of cars and horse trailers.

  Without wasting another second, she stuck the keys into the ignition, then pulled her purse from the canvas tote bag. She glanced out the window as another bus pulled up to the shelter, and a different plan began to form in her head. Taking the truck would be a mistake. She turned her purse upside down, emptying its contents onto the seat. After scooping up a handful of change, she stepped out of the truck and retrieved the fancy new cell phone from her pocket. A curl of nausea crept through her stomach and Stephen’s cruel features flashed into her mind’s eye. She looked around to make sure she was alone, then squatted down and tossed the phone under the truck. Hoisting the canvas bag onto her shoulder, she turned on her heel and strode toward the gate.

  The city bus hissed to a stop at the corner of a busy intersection and all the passengers got off. Julia hesitated, then approached the driver.

  “I need to get into the downtown area.”

  The woman driver stared straight ahead. “Take the number ten.”

  “Where do I find that?”

  “Two blocks to your right. Lady, the light just changed and I need to check in at the dispatch office.”

  “Thanks.” For what?

  Julia stood on the corner, holding her breath to avoid the heavy exhaust as the bus pulled away from the curb. She turned and started in the direction she’d been told, wondering how many thousands of people in the world hated their plight in life. She smiled half-heartedly. Right now, she knew of two.

  The light was beginning to fail and she took a moment to notice to her surroundings as she walked toward the next bus stop. The houses were run down and neglected, several skeleton cars lounged against the curb, and trash littered the gutters. She gulped, intensely aware of the contents of her bag. Only I could take a bus into the bad part of town. A half-block from the bus shelter, three hefty teenagers crossed the street and walked alongside her.

  “Hey, sister, nice hair-do.”

  Raucous laughter, then one of the boys stepped up closer. “You lookin’ to score?”

  Julia shook her head and kept walking.

  “Hey, bitch, I’m talkin’ to you!”

  A deep voice came from somewhere behind. “You boys get the hell out of here and leave the lady alone.”

  The trio turned as one and headed back down the street, leaving Julia with a lifetime worth of adrenaline coursing through her body. She stopped to catch her breath and see who had rescued her. A burly black cop with a kind face shook his head.

  “You must be from outta town. You shouldn’t be down here. Where are you headed?”

  Julia’s voice shook so badly she almost couldn’t get the words out. “I took the wrong bus. I’m trying to get to the downtown area.”

  The cop nodded. “The next bus to Bricktown oughta be along any minute. Don’t get off until you get there.” He motioned toward the shelter. “I’ll hang around until it comes.”

  Julia smiled feebly. “Thank you.”

  “So, where’re you from?”

  Oh crap. Is this guy going to remember me when all hell breaks loose? Julia’s brain hummed as she tried to think of an answer. What states bordered Oklahoma?

  “Arkansas.”

  The cop’s eyes narrowed. “What brings you to Okie City?”

  “Visiting a sister.” Julia tried to act as though she was embarrassed. “I wouldn’t let her drive me into town, told her I could do the bus just fine. She’s older, always acts like I don’t have a brain in my head.”

  The cop chuckled. “Yeah, my oldest sister is the same way. I can’t—” The two-way radio on his shoulder beeped and a robotic voice chattered something unintelligible. He clicked the button. “I got it. Ten-four.”

  He turned and looked down the street. “Here comes your bus. I got work to do. Enjoy your visit.”

  He touched the rim of his hat and started back down the street in the direction they’d just come. The bus pulled up and Julia climbed on, stunned by the pitfalls that seemed to litter her plan. She settled into a worn seat and gazed out at the passing scenery, her sad expression reflected in the window. This would not be easy, but compared to the alternative... She touched the curly wig. It made her head itch and she wanted to rip it off. Once she settled someplace safe, her hair would be the first thing she’d change. She grinned, thinking about the horrified expression on the stylist’s face if he could see her now. She leaned her head against the seat and thought about the next step. As she relaxed, her thoughts drifted back to her last moments with Coquette, and tears burned her eyes. Leaving the beautiful mare would be her only regret.

  The neighborhoods quickly changed for the better and Julia examined the tidy homes and townhouses along the busy road into town. After several stops to drop off passengers, she rose from her seat and approached the driver, hoping this one would at least be civil.

  “Can you let me off near the main bus terminal?”

  “I’ll be going right by there on my way to Bricktown. Just stay on board. I’ll let you know when we get there.”

  Julia sat down again and relaxed a little. A sudden thought popped up. Where, exactly, was her final destination? Might be a good idea to think about that now. First, she needed to be as far away from Oklahoma City as quickly as possible. Second, a large city would be a good place to get lost in throngs of people. She closed her eyes and visualized a map, wishing she’d thought of doing this before she’d left home. On the other hand, how could she have known this chance would present itself? She clucked her tongue. Preparation was key, and she’d only taken the obvious and preliminary steps. She pictured Oklahoma, but for the life of her, could not remember what state was directly above. Did it matter? She’d just pick a large city and start there.

  The driver’s v
oice interrupted her plotting. “You ever been to Bricktown before?”

  Julia shook her head, and the man warmed to his subject.

  “From 1889 to 1904, four railroads came through the area: the Santa Fe, the Rock Island, the Frisco, and the Katy. With all the commerce that the railroads brought, the area became a warehouse district early on, with dozens of large brick buildings. That’s why they called it Bricktown. Anyways, cotton, cattle, horses, wheat, corn, fruit, and oil were in high demand and the area grew. Then Henry Ford built his assembly plant in the city in 1915.”

  The driver’s voice droned on and Julia’s mind wandered. She thought about the innocent questions that seemed to keep rolling her way. She’d have to be very careful about answering—it was impossible to know which answer would trip her up. How many people had she now talked to? A police officer. She shuddered, unhappy about that one. Two bus drivers. Probably no worry about the first one, although she might remember the dumb woman who’d been lost.

  Julia glanced over at the man giving the tour spiel.

  He grinned. “More than you wanted to know, huh?”

  “No, it’s very interesting.”

  The man seemed interested in his passengers and might just remember her. At that moment, she resolved to talk to no one about anything other than necessities.

  The Union Bus Station was modern, clean, and well-lighted. Julia glanced around at the half-dozen people seated in the waiting area, then approached a wall covered by notices and warnings, an out-dated advertisement for a benefit concert, and bus route maps and schedules. Scrutinizing the small print, she finally located the interstate bus lines. Most of the town names she did not recognize, then one popped out. St. Louis, Missouri would be her new home, at least for the time being.

  The restrooms were in the far corner and Julia headed in that direction. Secured inside a locked stall, she dug into her bag and pulled out one of the money bundles. She peeled off three hundred-dollar notes, stuffed the wad back into the bottom of the bag, and left the restroom.