“Yes, but do I have to?” Lance asked, as Angie’s patience grew thinner.
“On with your flip-flops you get the first shower!”
Lance stepped over the six-inch high step and relaxed into the well-deserved hot shower.
“Ooh this feels good mom.”
Angie stepped out of her solo role as responsible parent and leaned back on the cedar slat bench against the wall relaxing into the jazz while her mind drifted through time.
Quality of life for Lance and I is declining. How do I stop this from careening out of control?
She needed to rid herself of the endless worrying and indulged by allowing her mind to go blank while she sat listless on the bench.
“Mom I feel wonderful! Wait until you get in here; I feel clean already.” Lance said with the giggles.
Her son, Lance, an innocent eight-year-old who’d done nothing to deserve treatment as an outcast by his blood relatives, enjoyed himself. His giddiness brought about joy in Angie’s heart and prompted her eyes to well with tears. As the jazz soothed her soul, the tears trailed down her cheeks.
“I’m glad to hear you enjoying your shower.”
Angie’s mind, pervaded by an onset of crucial monetary matters, focused on uncovering proof of Craig and Martin’s wrongdoing. Her mind’s eye honed in on Anthony Giannola’s involvement. With concrete evidence, she could persuade Craig to pay her the child support arrears he owed her or better yet, entice him to pay the remaining balance on the home and redeem it from foreclosure. Looking at Craig on the opposing side of the table all those years, left Angie feeling overpowered, however, today she felt tenacity charging through her blood.
Smiling she said, “Baby you take your time in there and enjoy it – you deserve it.”
Angie entered the shower fully intending to languish in the warm luxury while stress-dissolving warmth cascaded over her naked body. A distinct contrast from the frigid nightmare at their house however, the opposite happened. Pecking away at her nerves was a sense of impending doom, as a mental hourglass spilled sand continuously. Each grain of sand represented lost hope and triggered her thoughts to center on the pay phone and making the dreaded but necessary phone-call.
“Turn around Lance. I’m coming out now.”
“Okay mom I have my eyes closed and I’m turned around toward the wall.”
Stepping out of the shower her eyes gazed on the steam clouded mirror to ensure Lance could not see her naked body’s reflection. Lance continued to amuse himself in an eight-year-old fashion acting out life as a truck driver with a toy truck as she dressed.
Thank the lord we still have clean clothes.
Digging the brush deep into her scalp in earnest drawing all her hair into a tight ponytail Angie didn’t want to appear frayed around the edges. Crossing her hair-tie with motions resembling a figure eight she looped the elastic around the ponytail again to secure it. Feeling fresh like new fallen snow Angie collected their dirty clothes and toiletries and she and Lance then made their way out the door.
“Well what do we have here.” said a gruff looking man.
Angie’s body felt like thousands of needles pricked it in uneven intervals. Adrenaline shot deep within her fibrous tissues.
Reaching his hand out toward her cheek this man said, “Honey how about you and I have a little go round in the shower there? Maybe you could use a few extra bucks. Hugh, what do you say?”
The man stood in front of the singular door to the shower.
“Sir I think for your sake you’d better move, my son and I need to leave.” Angie said.
Lance stood behind Angie shaking, as urine dribbled down his leg and collected in a puddle.
“Honey I don’t think I want to leave until you and I take care of business.” the gruff man said.
Angie picked up her knee and thrust it into the man’s groin. He dropped to the floor and winced in pain. Angie turned around to grab Lance to leave but noticed the puddle of fear around his shoe.
“Come on baby, let’s get you back in a quick shower, and then we need to leave.”
“Do you think we should expect more trouble from him when I get out of the shower?” Lance asked.
“No because I’m calling the front desk right now. Go ahead shower up, quick this time.” Angie said.
Angie picked up her cell phone to alert the front desk of the wishful-intruder outside her door as she hid her trembling hands from Lance.
Chapter 5
Hope escaped Angie’s mind this morning. Craig, holding the judge in his back pocket by an insurance racketeering scheme they ran together, ensured positive results from court while destiny foretold another hearing of injustice for Angie and Lance. The two thieves made up loyalty between themselves picking up the clients left stranded by their bankrupted-contractors, thanks to Craig’s hand in Governors Insurance policies as they raised the premiums beyond sustainability.
Getting a change of venue would allow me a chance to win this case. Finally, Craig would receive what he deserved. Yeah, right when pigs fly.
“Judge Hall presiding, all rise.”
“Take your seats, first up this morning Freeman versus Steadfast.”
Angie and Craig’s eyes met as their heavy footsteps carried them to the decision platform. While settling in at tables on opposite sides of a stark courtroom, their long engaging glares marked the degree of tension. One exuded deceit while the other followed-up with clever retaliation. Angie became wiser with each stunt Craig pulled. Tensions neared a breaking point due to Craig holding the judge in his back pocket. Angie’s keen intuition began to anticipate his next scheme and guided her actions.
“First on the agenda; a motion, filed by the plaintiff Angelina Steadfast for non-payment of child support against the defendant Craig Freeman.”
“Your honor if I may.” Craig said as if he owned stock in the county courthouse.
“Please go ahead Mr. Freeman.”
“My ex-wife Angelina tries to collect child support from me while I have no income.”
“That’s a lie!” Angie piped in.
“Order in the court!” the judge said pounding his gavel on the circular wooden base.
“You will have your turn to speak.”
“As I said I have no income, and I’ve provided the court with documentation proving this. Yes, Governors Insurance has me listed as an officer, however, I collect no salary.”
“Okay. Mrs. Steadfast the court cannot collect child support when the noncustodial parent has no income. Didn’t we go over this last time?” the judge asked.
“Judge please. My son and I sleep in the car, not Craig. I notified the court that he received money in from an inheritance. I’d like to know the source of his income. He manages to keep a roof over his head while not paying me a dime. He also changed the locks on the house and failed to give me a key.”
“Mr. Freeman did you change the lock on the home? Let me remind you that ownership of the home remains in joint tenancy. That will change if this court issues a divorce decree in your case. Craig, give her a key for the house.” the judge said cupping his hand over the microphone. Then continuing he said, “For purposes of the court reporter I want that off the record. Did you receive an inheritance?”
Craig pulled a key ring, with various keys boasting a multitude of golden and silver shades, from his Armani suit pocket as the jingling noise captured the attention of the callous courtroom. Holding the dangling mess of entrance passes in his hands, he singled out one lone golden key. Pulling the key toward him as it circled key ring, he guided it onto a lone track granting it freedom from the congested mess. He launched it into the air toward Angie where it turned somersaults then hit the corner and produced a dull metallic clink.
“Oh what’s this, more exhibitionism for your puppet perched high and mighty on his bench?”
Picking up the key with her back to the judge Angie held up her right hand in front of her. With all fingers except the middle finger folded down, she
smiled at Craig. He snickered back at Angie while loud bursts of laughter sprang from women’s mouths holding ringside seats. Their physical behaviors exuded approval by clapping and a standing ovation. Angie, although tempted, did not grant them a second act.
“Order in this courtroom!” Judge Hall said in disgust.
“I didn’t receive any inheritance.” Craig said.
“Okay he says he did not receive any inheritance; anything else?” the judge asked.
“No, not until our next court date when you decide the fate of the marital.” Craig said.
Glaring at Craig with genuine intent to kill Angie said, “No your honor.”
“Dismissed. Next case.” the judge said.
Reaching in her purse for her key ring Angie noticed a transparent patch with a square plastic backing attached to it. Curious. Searching for answers to the mysterious patch. Meanwhile, walking out of the courtroom she noticed Craig smiled his shitty politician’s grin, as always, exiting the courtroom victorious. Then it came to her, the patch belonged to a co-worker at the bakery, a fifty-seven-year-old woman who used estrogen patches for menopause. The patch, measured one inch by one inch. Angie felt rather mischievous that morning.
Today your thievery leaves me victorious! You lied and said you didn’t receive an inheritance; in a pig’s eye you didn’t receive an inheritance; you’re a thief!
Angie peeled the sticky backing off the transparent patch while holding it inside her purse and said, “Craig come over here. I need to speak with you.”
Craig walked closer to Angie as she fumbled with the sticky clear plastic backing. Her purse, chock-full of important papers and trinkets, left no room for ambidextrous fingers to remove the plastic backing. His footsteps became louder as she scraped and tugged at the backing, until finally, the back peeled off with one smooth tug. She held the female elixir flush against her fingertips.
“Can we settle the house with mutual respect Craig?”
“Sure when hell freezes over.”
Patting him on the neck with a soft touch Angie attached the estrogen patch, Craig none the wiser.
“I didn’t think you would however, I wanted to try anyway.”
“I see you just wanted to look into my eyes and get your hands on me once more. What; you miss this? That’s why you graced my eyes with that seductive pose this morning isn’t it?”
“Whatever you say Craig.”
Angie’s lips paraded a similar politician’s grin Craig’s often wore. With loose limbs at her sides, a firm resolve carried them out of the courtroom. She stared into the face of danger, accepted the challenge of the duel and met Craig on the same devious level he played on.
“Come on Lance we need to leave.”
Angie and Lance walked past a tall palm tree in a circular planter that doubled as a stash before entering the full-body scanner in the overcast courtroom lobby earlier that morning. She needed to retrieve an heirloom left to her by her father. A ten-inch carbon steel gem of quality artisanship that sported Craig’s name on many occasions.
You want to play dirty and change the locks.
Angie walked past the right side of the car and plunged the ten-inch blade deep into the sidewalls of the Pirelli tires. She rounded the rear portion of the car. With knife held firmly in her hand, she gouged the paint across the trunk lid leaving a jagged scratch in its place. Walking alongside the Audi, she plunged the knife into the passenger side Pirelli tires.
Let’s see how you like springing for four new tires. Ha! Two can play at that game.
“Let’s go Lance we must test fate once again with the Buick.”
We appreciative the luxury of a warm bed tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah I hear it all-day long.” The attendant said swishing his left hand twice with a quick flick of the wrist signaling for them to go into the room on their left.
“Lance, best behavior right now please; we need somewhere to sleep and I’m worn-out.”
Lance sideways glanced at Angie as if he felt sorry for his mother’s never-ending worry and rigid demeanor as he said, “Okay mom.”
The hands on the clock crawled as Lance and Angie’s cold skin began to thaw. A stiff jaw made speech difficult but did not inhibit the bewitching thoughts occurring. Angie began to making plans.
“They should call us back soon dear.” Angie said.
Anger and resentment rumbled through Angie like a pig rolls around a muddy pigpen when she thought about Craig. A quick jaunt through the crowded intake area provided a momentary reprieve from her morose thoughts.
“Ma'am, you’re all set, you and the boy can take bed seven C and D; lights out at 10:00 P.M. The kitchen, through the door at the East end of the sleeping quarters closes at 9:00. Showers remain open 24 hours. You reach them through the connecting Flying J Truck Stop.”
“Thank you.”
“Come on dear a warm bed awaits us.” Angie said looking toward lance.
They walked toward their beds with light footsteps. Angie’s eye spied a pay phone, which served as a grotesque reminder of duties still unfulfilled.
“Lance, come with me, to make a call. When I’m finished, we’ll go to sleep.”
Angie searched the bottom of her purse among crushed peppermint-candy bits and pieces, Band-Aids and makeup until she scrounged up enough loose change to make the dreaded phone call. She dropped the money in the coin slot, alongside her pride, as she depressed the numerals of John’s phone number with rounded shoulders and her chin dropped down to her chest.
“Please answer. Please answer.”
“Hello.” John said.
“John it's Angelina, do you have time to talk?”
“Well well well. I always have time for you darling?”
Amid disgust and a churning feeling welling deep inside her stomach Angie said, “I’m good. Listen I need to see you. Can we meet tomorrow?”
“Darling I knew you would look my way eventually. Have you come to your senses and divorced? Why haven’t you called sooner? No matter, you and I got a date.”
“My house tomorrow, but listen, I’ll have Lance with me and the gas company turned off the gas. You’ll want to wear a warm coat.”
“No matter to me darling, I’m glad you looked my way.”
“See you at 11:00?” Angie said.
“No make it 12:00. Okay, I will see you tomorrow.” John said.
Angie fanned through many pages of the phone book until she arrived at the letter G. The slight breeze the pages produced provided a momentary reprieve from the stench surrounding her. A wrathful yearning fermented in her core because of the improprieties the inconvenience and his relatives dealt her.
One day Craig Freeman you and your relatives will sit in the pits of hell and experience what you’ve done to us.
Searching in angst for Martin’s brother-in-law Anthony Giannola through many listings Angie found it. Amid hesitation, Angie made the call anyway despite his supposed ties to the mafia. A curious event that occurred years earlier where Anthony and Martin engaged in a shouting match prompted Angie to question their loyalty toward each other and warranted the phone call.
I wonder; Anthony and Martin, I don’t believe it. After seeing Lance and I plummet onto skid row under Craig’s forced stranglehold I believe anything can happen.
As Angie released each coin into the thin coin slot, questions quickly came to mind which kept pace with the coin’s ascension as it trailed down to the coin collection bin. Lacking the needed focus on the task before her, Angie’s mind teetered on the edge of this dangerous cliff.
What will I say if he answers? Curiosity and vengeance have the best of me right now!
After dialing the number she had no time to think. The phone rang quickly. Angie remained nervous.
What should I say? Do you want to see your brother-in-law Martin ruined as much as I do? Bad idea; what if they’ve ironed out their difficulties and work on the same team; I’d expose my covert operations.
Ang
ie’s thoughts trailed off as elongated sounds of a metallic chirring in the earpiece sounded once, then twice as paranoia set in. Angie’s pulse rate increased as if she’d ran a marathon until a soft mechanical clicking noise sounded and a familiar robust voice with an Italian accent overtook the airwaves as the answering machine engaged. Vengeance parked itself as vicious wolves circled her and Lance prompting her to consider risking everything. Angie hung up the phone and avoided the eventual confrontation, this time.
“Come on Lance let’s go to bed.”
Chapter 6
The relentless blizzard triggered snow squalls to dance a Tchaikovsky ballet around Angie’s ankles. Glimpsing at Lance’s hands the chilblains etched their size, shape and an intense shade of deep red in Angie’s mind. She felt guilty because she’d married a louse that abandoned them while they tumble adrift on skid row. Fear overtook Angie, as she knew turning back was physically impossible, while Craig, adorned in velvet slippers, pampered himself with a glass of Fernando de Castilla Antique Amontillado.
“C’mon Lance I want to look for answers in the files in this building.”
“Answers to what questions?” Lance asked.
“Please just behave; don’t worry about any of the other stuff right now. I don’t want any attention drawn to us.”
“We will have our picture drawn inside there?” Lance said with a strange look.
“Never mind just behave.”
Fury raged through her veins as she and Lance made their way up the snow-covered walkway of the courthouse. Inside, Angie hoped to find answers about Craig and Martin duping honest people out of their livelihoods. Following this, she had an appointment with the premiere attorney, Jaid Wood. Her nickname; The Pistol. Her former client; Craig. The sole way Angie recognized she’d collect child support arrears and resolve pressing difficulties came from fighting fire with fire.
“Hi I’m looking to find some information a business.”
With stoic eyes the clerk asked, “Sure what’s the name?”
“Governor’s Insurance. If it’s possible can I get information on Giannola Enterprises as well?”
ISOLATION: Child Support 911 Page 4