We pulled up to D’Angelo’s, got a table and ordered a pizza. “I’m so glad you guys dragged me out tonight. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come, but I’m glad I did.” I flashed each of them a sincere smile.
“We’re glad you came out.” Lucy patted my arm.
“Yeah, it’s not the same when you’re not around. No fun at all. Glad you’re getting back to your old self.” Monica said.
I smiled in appreciation even though deep down I knew-- I would never be my old self again.
CHAPTER 19
D ’Angelo’s pizza was as delicious as I remember it. They added freshly sliced baby tomatoes and every bite I sank my teeth into was so good. It reminded me of when I was a kid and trips into D.C. were such a joy. It looked as though they’d added more ambience to the place having updated the decor. It now had more of an elegant atmosphere.
“Am I crazy or is our waiter a total babe?” Monica’s eyebrows raised and lowered repeatedly.
Lucy and I giggled.
“I’m talking huba huba baby cakes.” Monica said.
“He’s probably a Georgetown college boy.” I offered.
“I’d let him study me.” Lucy said.
“Who’s up for ice cream?” Monica asked.
“Aren’t you full? I couldn’t eat another bite.” I said.
“I know a place on the way to the Washington monument. We can get ice cream cones. Come on you guys, it will be fun.” Monica said.
“Oh why not,” Lucy said. “I could use a good sugar rush.”
We each laid cash on the table to cover the cost of the meal. Monica laid down a fifty dollar bill for the tip. Lucy and I gave her a look. “What?” She looked truly bewildered. “I believe in tipping well. Let’s go.”
Lucy and I snickered and walked out followed by Monica who was behind us. I followed them to the ice cream shop and then we headed down to the monument. It was a pleasant stroll. Lucy and Monica ate their cones as we passed by various sites. I took in the night air, breathing it in and appreciating this cool night air. I noticed that it was a little busier than usual downtown and wondered why. There were a lot of college students around, no doubt on their way to the local bars.
I was excited about seeing the monument again. It had been years since I’d last seen it. I think I was in eighth grade when I took a class field trip there. When we got to the monument, I noticed how beautiful it was lit up against the night sky.
Lucy placed her hand on the tall structure. “Do you think Washington was handsome?”
Monica and I looked at each other and laughed out loud. “What are you talking about?”
“I was just wondering if you thought he was handsome.” Lucy said again.
Monica stared at Lucy. “Do you have daddy issues or something?”
“No, of course not. It was just a question, geez.” Lucy walked ahead of us. “What’s the big deal.”
“I don’t know, ask father time’s girlfriend over here.” Monica teased.
I laughed as we walked along the path. It was really nice to have these girls as my friends. I had a sudden surge of gratitude for them. I noticed they weren’t asking me about what happened when I was kidnapped, and I appreciated that. They knew I needed space and they were giving it to me while taking me out and getting my mind off of it.
It was a beautiful evening. The trees were blowing in the chilly wind. I shivered and crossed my arms in front of me.
“Did you hear about Susie and Alex?” Monica asked me and before I had a chance to answer she continued. “They broke up. There was huge drama at school.”
“No, I hadn’t heard. What happened?” I asked.
“Susi found Alex and Andrew Fulton doing it. Walked right in on them.” Lucy chimed in.
“Dude, I would have killed them both.” Monica said.
“Wow, that’s crazy,” I offered.
“Pants down around his ankles and everything,” Lucy added.
“That’s terrible. How’s Susi?” I asked.
“She hooked up with Tyler Benson at the fall festival to get back at Alex, and then Tyler and Alex got into this big fight at school. They suspended both of them for two weeks.” Monica told the story as if she were front row in a movie theater watching it unfold.
“And now there’s a rumor going around that Susi might be pregnant and she doesn’t know who the father is.” Lucy added.
“Good grief, that is a lot of drama.” I said.
Our walk led us closer to the White House gates and as we approached, we saw a group of people standing around holding signs walking in a big circle. The sea of people and the collective noise from them was loud with agitation and anger. My curiosity grew. I wanted to see what they were marching about, so I headed toward the center of the group. It was obvious from their anti-war signs they were parading around chanting against the war in Syria. Monica, Lucy and I watched for a couple minutes until we saw the gates open and a black town car exit. The crowd turned aggressive, banging on the car and preventing it from. The situation was scary, and I made sure the three of us were far enough away from the crowd to avoid getting caught up in it. For a moment, my heart went out to the person or people in the car. I wondered if they were scared, too.
As the car turned the corner in front of us, camera flashes illuminated the figure inside. My stomach dropped and adrenaline shot through my veins. I recognized the person in the car behind the tinted windows. It was Homeland Secretary Hullman. My jaw dropped and I froze.
“What’s wrong, Marlene?” Monica watched my face.
My fists clenched as tears filled my eyes. Anger filled my heart but I couldn’t move.
“Tell me what it is.” Monica stepped in front of me.
Lucy noticed us and stepped into our circle. “Are you okay? What’s wrong, Marlene?”
I couldn’t tell them. I couldn’t admit the man I was looking for was in that car. The man who tried to sell me into slavery. The car drove past us and disappeared into the streets of D.C. I collapsed to the ground, unable to stop the stream of tears exiting my eyes.
Monica and Lucy bunt down and grabbed my arms, trying to help me to my feet.
My body was limp. I didn’t have the will to help myself up. I felt utterly defeated. One protester noticed me, reached out and touched my shoulder. “I know. The war in Syria is awful. Don’t worry yourself sick about it, though.”
I tried to smile at her kindness, but I could only cry. This was unbelievable, and the reality of him being in such close personal proximity to me took all my energy and breath. I could do nothing but sit in the street weeping.
I had to get a grip. My nose was running, and I wiped it with my sleeve before shifting my head back to stop crying.
“Please tell us what’s wrong, Marlene.” Monica begged.
“I’m so sorry. We were having so much fun. I’m sorry I ruined our evening.” I offered.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lucy bent down and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.
Marlene picked herself up “I’m okay guys,’’ she said.
“What is it?” What’s wrong Monica asked.
“I’m just upset…. About Syria…” it was the only thing I can think of fast enough. I couldn’t tell them the truth. I couldn’t tell anyone the truth.
“Let’s go home,” Lucy said.
“No no.. I’ll just call my mom. You guys can go out with me.”
“There’s no way we’re leaving you by yourself out here.” Monica insisted.
“Yeah, not a chance.” Lucy said.
“I promise I will be fine. I don’t want you both missing out because of me.” I responded.
“It’s absolutely out of the question, Marlene. We’re serious. We are not leaving you here.” Monica put her hands on her hips.
“Okay, fine. You don’t have to leave me here, but can you give me some time to myself?” I asked. “Go on to the club and I will catch up. I just want to sit here for awhile.”
They both gave me
sideways glances.
“Guys, I promise I will be fine. I just need some time alone.
Monica and Lucy looked at each other before Monica spoke up. “Okay fine. We will give you some time to yourself, but we are just up the street at Hitch’s Sports Bar, okay? If you need us we will be there.”
“Thank you.” I said. “I appreciate it. They both gave me a hug before turning and starting off down the road toward the sports bar.
I watched them walk down the sidewalk until they disappeared. I shot up and looked down the street toward the town car. My palms were sweaty, and I felt my knees weaken at the rage that was fast consuming me. I swallowed hard and took off down the street in the direction the car was traveling. I pumped my arms and moved my feet as fast as I could, but the distance between us was too far. Hullman’s car turned the corner, and I followed it. When I got around the corner, I saw the black town car being blocked by protesters. They were screaming anti-war chats and surrounding the car. His driver tried to drive but stopped as protesters jumped on the hood of his car. They had the entire road completely blocked off and refused to allow Hullman’s car to pass.
My body was shaking. I ran closer to the car and saw a rock on the ground. I picked it up and threw it as hard as I could into the rear window of the car. It shattered the black window and I saw Hullman’s face in shock as he turned to see me staring back at him. I shook with rage as spit flew out of my mouth. Fury was the only thing I felt, and I didn’t hold myself back. I jumped on the back of his car and banged on the trunk as I tried to climb into the rear window. I wanted to kill him right there.
The crowd screamed as I kicked out the remaining glass and tried to crawl in to get at him. I felt several hands grab various parts of my body and try to pull me away from him. When I looked back, I saw they were protesters. “I know what you did, Hullman!” I screamed his name loud with every grief-stricken word I had inside me.
“Damn girl” yelled a protestor.
The crowd died down to watch what I was going to do next. I tried to catch my breath as I stared Hullman down. He stared right back at me but showed no recognition.
“Yeah let’s mess his car up!” Another protester screamed. Everyone who was standing around, picked up rocks and began throwing them at his car. I stuck my middle finger out at him and smiled. I wanted him to remember me.
That’s when I heard the police sirens growing louder. The cars attached to them came speeding around the corner. I followed the protesters and ran down the street. The crowd ran in different directions. I tried to keep pace with the rest of the mob but I stopped instead and looked around. I saw Hullman’s car dented with serious scratches and broken glass. . That reality made me want to smile. Marlene runs with the protesters. But stopped and turned around. Hullman’s gaze followed me as I ran down the street. I looked into his eyes with pure hatred. Hullman sat there emotionless, unable to believe what he was seeing was real life.
I turned back around and focused on where I was running to. I headed up the streets of D.C and saw a couple of protesters caught and getting arrested. I knew I had put myself in real trouble, and the last thing I needed was to get arrested. I ran four more blocks and heard at least four more cop cars coming after me from behind. Thinking quick, I made a sharp left turn and ran into a coffee shop. I tried to look like I fit in waiting for my turn at a coffee. It appeared to work as police cars passed the shop. They blew past as cars tried their best to get out of their way.
I ordered an ice coffee and then sat down. Unfortunately, I could do little to save the protesters who were being arrested right outside the shop. I watched as they were being zip tied and put into police cars. There was nowhere left to go. I stayed calm and pretended to be playing a game on my phone. I regulated my breathing and reminded myself that if I didn’t panic, then there was no reason the cops would find me. I would wait until everything died down and then meet up with Lucy and Monica at the sports bar.
Nights like this used to never happen to me. Now it seems I’m all about the drama.
CHAPTER 20
T he server sat the white mug down on the table in front of me. The steam rising off the top warned me to treat it carefully. Last time I ordered a tea, I underestimated how hot it would be and burned my tongue. I couldn’t taste anything for almost a week. Touching the outer white ceramic shell, I tested the heat with my fingers, careful not to linger. The temperature seemed cool enough, so I took a sip from my mug.
People were scattered throughout the diner, not too close to each other but close enough to overhear their conversations if one should choose to do so. People watching had always been a favorite of mine. When my parents would take me on vacation, I would sit in a chair at the airport waiting for our flight and watch hundreds of people pass in front of me. I found it intriguing watching people walk from one place to another going on about their life, oblivious that a stranger was watching them.
I sat in the coffee shop watching the blue and red swirling lights fade into the horizon as the police pulled out and drove away from the scene. It took me a minute to realize I had run away with my thoughts. It was easy for me to do. With everything that was going on, I needed the distraction. I needed time to think about what I was going to do. The clock on the wall pointed well past midnight. I should have been on my way home. But I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go home. The alternative would be to go somewhere else, but where? I didn’t feel like I would be safe anywhere else.
The server dropped a cup and saucer on the tile floor, causing it to shatter into pieces and me to jump. My initial reaction was fear, followed by anger for being scared. I didn’t like loud noises, especially the ones that came out from nowhere.
Across from me, a man was shaking a sugar packet. He tore the top off before sprinkling it over his coffee. I felt like I was in a movie. These things didn’t happen to everyday people. There was nothing normal about any of this.
I replayed the events from earlier in my head. Hullman’s car driving away from me like the coward he was. I wasn’t sorry about what I did. In fact, I was glad about it. Every time I thought about hearing his voice from the back of the van, I got angry all over again. This time it was a calm rage welling up inside of me. I’d gotten that close to Hullman once. I could do it again. There was nothing that was going to stop me from getting my revenge.
I pulled out my phone and logged into my social media. My heart dropped as I saw what was trending in the top spot on the local news app. “Secretary of Homeland Security attacked by violent protester.” There was a big picture of me. My eyes scanned the room as my heart began to beat fast and my palms started to sweat. It terrified me that someone would recognize me. I ran into the bathroom. The room had wall to wall tiles in a brown and peach color and was terribly gaudy. I wasn’t paying too much attention, trying to get into the stall and hide myself. My hands were shaking. I was in full blown panic mode.
How long would it be before the police would come looking for me? What would happen once they found me?I tried to calm my breathing and think through the situation, but the only thing I could think of was calling my mother. Maybe she would understand if I explained to her what happened. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. It rang several times before I heard a soft voice on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Mom! I need you to pick me up.”
“Marlene? What’s wrong?”
“Please. There’s no time. Just meet me at the coffee shop on Washington Avenue.” I hung up.
My nerves were frazzled.I stood outside of the coffee shop until my mom pulled up. Once she pulled up to the corner, I looked both ways before walking out from the shadows, I pulled my gray hoodie over my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a lady walk out of the coffee shop and look at me. She stared as our eyes met, and it felt like she might have recognized me. I felt my anxiety swell in my throat as I ran to my mom’s black sedan, opened the door and got inside.
“Let’s go!” I screamed.
>
I tried to take a deep breath, but the weight of my worries made it difficult for me to inhale. I could feel my legs weaken and I was glad that I was sitting down.
“What’s going on?” She asked.
Before I could explain, my phone lit up, followed by my ringtone blaring. I didn’t look for it or pull it out of my pocket. I knew it couldn’t be good news, whoever it was from. Fear gripped me and I clasped my hands to my chest. My mind was racing. I couldn’t think fast enough about what to do. My phone stopped ringing and about a second later, my mom’s phone lit up. I looked at my mom and she looked back at me before reaching into her pocket and pulling it out. She pushed the green button and put the phone up to her ear.
I waited to hear her speak so that I could figure out who she was talking to, but her expression made it clear enough. Her face dropped as her eyes widened. Her mouth opened and I grew impatient. “What is it, mom?”
“The police are at our house looking for you,” she said. “You attacked the secretary of homeland security car?”
I watched as we passed the lights on the interstate. The tail lights of the car in front of us glowed red against the faint evening sky. I looked out of the window up at the faint stars and wished I was anyone else other than who I was right now. Tears welled up as a feeling of powerlessness overcame me.
I slumped down in my seat as I cried. I could feel my mother’s eyes judging me and my self-pity turned to anger. “Yes, mom! I did! And I’m proud of it!”
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to enforce her authority over me. I saw the disappointment in her face and it conflicted me between the guilt I felt over letting my parents down and the anger that this had happened to me. It was still happening.
“Are you stupid! He’s a government official! Are you really that upset over the war in Syria? You never talked about politics at home.” She yelled as her hands waved wildly.
Trafficked Series Page 7