Malachi, Ruse Master

by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

  She took a bite of the crackers. We were standing outside the Food Mart in the shade.

  “My eyes!” She moaned again.

  “Let’s go in.”

  “No loitering!” the cashier called as we walked back in. He must have been familiar with Sheila.

  “Dude, we just forgot to buy sunglasses.”

  I picked out a pair of sunglasses, and she nodded in consent. She didn’t present any money, so I paid for them and we walked out again. All the while, she was eating crackers and sipping coffee.

  Standing outside the Food Mart she sipped more coffee and hid the crackers in a pocket.

  “Where do you work?” I repeated.

  “Sunnyside Greenhouse.”

  I took out my cell phone. “Um, what’s your name? I’m not supposed to be a stranger.”

  She giggled again. “I’m Sheila Folsom. Like that song, ‘Folsom Prison Blues.’ It’s lovely, don’t ‘cha think?”

  “Quite. What do I say?”

  “Well, you can’t say a relative died ‘cause I think I’ve used that one way too much. I was due in at 10. Oops. Screwed that up. You can make up a story, right? Can you buy me a beer?”

  “What?!”

  “Hair o’ the dog.” She batted her eyelashes again. Then, she leaned against the store window as she slid down to the ground.

  “Nope. Drink the rest of that coffee. And have some water.” I handed one of the waters to her and looked at the book in the phone booth to find the phone number. What a mess, I thought, but I was being called to duty. Could I make up a story? She didn’t know who she was dealing with!

  “Sunnyside Greenhouse. How can we help you?”

  “Yeah, I’m calling for Sheila Folsom. She can’t come in to work today.”

  “Let me direct your call to the manager.”

  After a few moments, a male voice answered. “Hello, this is Cliff. How may I help you?”

  “Hi, this is Randy. I’m calling for Sheila Folsom. She’s really sick today and can’t make it in.”

  “Randy?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m Sheila’s boyfriend. She’s throwing up, like nonstop. I don’t know if it’s morning sickness or what. I gotta call the doctor next. She’ll be in tomorrow.”

  “Hmm. Tell her she needs to call in BEFORE her shift next time!”

  “Oh, I sure will, sir.”

  “Alright, Randy. I’m sure we’ll be speaking to each other again.”

  I left that without comment and hung up immediately.

  “Good enough story?” I asked, looking down at her on the ground.

  “Man, you’re good at that! Can you call my parents next? I need some money!” She slapped her knee and laughed.

  “Come on, let’s get to the laundromat before our clothes get stolen.” I gave her an arm to help her up and put the other around her left shoulder. She still wasn’t walking straight. I found myself wishing I had a friend around to keep me thinking straight. I hadn’t seen Otis in a while and wished this could be the day he would just pop up. He was almost like family for me in his own unreliable way. “Was it just drinking that you did last night?” I asked.

  She shook her head side to side. “There were some pills. It’s all good. It’s okay. Thanks for calling Cliff.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Let’s go to that bar there.” She lifted one arm in the air.

  “No.” I guided her into the laundromat. “I’m Malachi, by the way.”

  “Seriously, though, can you call my parents next?”

  I shook my head emphatically. “Already answered that one.”

  Just then, I saw a young woman get out of a car across the street. Long, dark hair, long legs in a plaid skirt, fitted turtleneck. I found myself enthralled, then I realized she was the girl I had met in the coffee shop.

  I stood to get a better view of the window.

  Sheila frowned, unable to lean on me. “You could really help me out.”

  “Already helped you out, Sheila.” She must have been a junkie; she was much worse than a drunk or at least worse than what I’d experienced from my dad’s drinking. Sadly, she thought I had proved indispensable, and now I was like a magnet to her. I sighed. She appeared to be dozing now.

  Looking through the window again, I could see the young woman waiting. Ellie was her name, I now remembered.

  The bearded man walked in. “That one’s trouble,” he said, moving his clothes from the washer to the dryer.

  “Yeah, well, I won’t be coming back here,” I replied, smiling.

  “Oh, so she’s been awake?”

  “Regrettably, yes.”

  He turned to leave, for the bar again, I figured. “By the way, drink is not the problem with her. Ask any dealer on the corner. Make sure she doesn’t reach for your wallet.” He let the door slam as he left.

  I had to get up to transfer my clothes to the dryer myself. Sheila took up both chairs again.

  Back at the window, I could see the young woman still standing there, waiting. Interesting that I’d never met her until last week, and now I was seeing her for the second time in a week. Was it a stroke of luck?

  “Your clothes are done, Sheila,” I called over my shoulder.

  “It’s okay. I got time. I need you to call my parents.”

  However, I was otherwise preoccupied. Just then I saw a car pull up next to the young woman, Ellie. A man was driving. He got out and opened the door for her. He looked to be at least thirty, and while her age was hard to pin down, I got the feeling he was a good bit older than her but probably not her dad. I stepped out the door when she got in, noting the make and model of his car before it took off. I was too gob-stopped to note the license number. Did I need to, though? She certainly appeared to get in his car of her own accord.

  On the other side of the street I noticed Otis, sitting in the shade of an awning.

  I walked out to talk to him, ignoring Sheila’s questions from her chair. “Hey, Otis!”

  “Oh, hey. I’m just taking a breather.”

  “Did you see that young lady across the street getting into a car with a man? Just now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “Um, I’ve spoken with her before. She’s kinda suspicious. Like, she’s not around here just hangin’ out. I don’t know what’s going on Malachi, but I don’t trust her.”

  “Is she a hooker?”

  He laughed out loud, revealing a missing front tooth. “Nah, nothin’ like that. I’m really not sure what. I’ve seen ‘er with that guy before, though.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I sure don’t know. You be careful ‘round her, though, Malachi.”

  “Well,” I added, “if I ever see her again.”

  “Pretty sure ya’ will.” He gave a half smile.

  “Anyway, I think I still owe you for that window washing. Here’s a five. It’s all I can give today, but I’ll see you again.”

  He shook his head as if he didn’t want it, so I laid it on the ground next to him.

  “Stay safe, Malachi!” he called as I started back to the laundromat, dreading another conversation with Sheila.

  I already regretted the help I had given her. She was bound and determined to pull me further into her web of lies and excuses. What a sad life she must have lead, with no realization of what she was doing.

  Walking over to her, I grabbed my paperback and decided to just stand and wait. Sure, I was a lonely guy at this time in my life, but I was not about to get roped to the likes of Sheila Folsom for any longer than the next hour or whatever amount of time I had to wait for my clothes.

  “Your clothes are done, Sheila,” I announced as soon as her dryer stopped.

  “Napping,” she said. I figured that was a lie. Five minutes later her eyes opened and she was needling me again.

  “You and I would be great together! We could put our wits together and make some money. You have a golden tongue. I mean, your words. You’re so believable.” />
  “I already have a good job.”

  “What do you do, Billy?”

  “It’s not Billy. It’s...Randy,” I carefully replied. “It’s an office job. Very boring. I am happy with what I do. I’m happy with my life.”

  “Ha! You wouldn’t be talking to me so long if you were happy with your life. You’re lonely.”

  I gave her a show of the middle finger; she’d hit a nerve. “You really don’t let me get a word in edgewise,” was the best I could reply.

  She cackled. “Just call my parents. They can send money. Give me your address and I’ll send you some of it.”

  “No, thanks.” The last thing I wanted was for her to show up on Henry’s doorstep after a night of partying in my area.

  She huffed.

  I reached into the dryer and pondered taking my clothes out half-dry. This scene was irritating, and I was tiring of her pull. Maybe she felt like I’d give in eventually. I didn’t plan to do that. Filling my laundry basket, I decided I’d rather hang these up at Hank’s house than sit through any more of this. True, it was cold, but at least the sun was out.

  “Okay. Be that way. Don’t worry about me. For one, I didn’t lose my job today, and I’m not dead after last night. All my friends said I’d be dead by now. But no, not me! You just go on your way. I’ll just find another friend who can lie as good as you.”

  Her words took me aback. I stood with my laundry basket of clothes wondering what to say, wishing there was some way I could really help her. What if she didn’t really want to be helped? Just how much would she put me through? Underneath it all, I wondered if she could find anyone else that could lie as well as I could. It actually sort of hurt me that she thought she could, but then I felt guilty for feeling that way. Was I proud to be a liar?

  “Sheila, I’m glad I could be of some help. That’s all I could do for you. I hope you take care of yourself.”

  She pulled out a small bottle from somewhere in her coat and took a sip then held it out to me. “Forgot I had this. Want any?”

  “No thanks. Take care.”

  I walked out of the door shaking my head. Bearded guy was walking back from the bar again to check his clothes.

  “Oh, so now I have babysitting duty?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Only if you don’t want your clothes stolen,” I replied. We shared a laugh, and he clapped me on the back.

  “See you around,” he said.

  “Yeah. Have a good one.” I got to my car, and after settling my damp laundry into the trunk, I sat in the driver’s seat. Sure, I was lonely, but I didn’t need to be drawn into that junkie’s web. Sadly, my lie was allowing her to go on with her cycle of self-destruction for another day. Who was I to judge?

  I found myself wishing I had followed that man in the car who picked up Ellie. There was so much I didn’t know about her. Yet, part of me was glad the car was gone. How far would I chase Ellie down the rabbit hole if given a chance?

  I headed back home and sat back to watch TV after hanging my clothes out to dry on Hank’s lawn chairs, glad I had escaped the clutches of a possible friendship, or partnership, with the one and only Sheila Folsom. At this point, I was still sure she’d never remember my real name, and I wasn’t even sure I’d given it to her. Not that I ever used my real name anymore. I’d adopted a persona called Malachi, and it fit me. I was becoming my identity.

  Checking the answering machine in my basement room, I heard Hank’s return message. “Go ahead and call a repair man.”

  I just shook my head and laughed. Too late.

  Chapter 9

  A Plan

  I enjoyed a deep, dreamless sleep that night, until an early morning screaming match awoke me bright and early in the morning. Don and Sofie were at it again. I placed myself near the window in order to hear as much as I could of the screaming and accusations. I wanted to be ready in case things escalated. My ear listened for any cries of desperation from Sofie or solid threats from Don.

  After a while, it quieted. Maybe he didn’t have as much alcohol in him this time. I picked up the phone to call Jack.

  “It’s a bit early, Malachi.” That was it, not even a ‘hello.’

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

  It sounded like he rolled over in bed. “No. Of course not. What’s up?”

  “Can you tell me a little more about that cop, Don?”

  “Oh, that again. Yeah, the name’s Don Listler,” he whispered.

  I wanted to ask why he was whispering, but I knew it was none of my business. It was obvious to me that we were not equals, and I should respect that.

  “Anything that might be helpful?”

  “No, not yet. But with the last name, I think YOU could get somewhere. Now, I believe you are due in my office tomorrow for your next job.”

  “Right. I’m sorry to bug you, Jack.” I truly was sorry; it’s just that I had no one else to turn to that actually could help in this situation.

  I went to the refrigerator and found nothing but half of a Gatorade bottle and some leftover Chinese food that, upon inspection, appeared to have mold growing on one side of it. Nope, not for me. I dumped it in the trash and found the can of coffee on the counter. At least there was that.

  One thing that always helped me get going was knowing there was some coffee to go in my cup. Even if I had nothing else, that one cup of coffee could keep me moving until I could scrounge up some lunch. There were still a few bucks in my pocket. I’d save them for lunch and have a caffeine breakfast. I didn’t even have to worry about hyper roaches this time, since I’d cleaned out the coffee pot last night. I filled and turned on the coffeemaker and listened to the magical sounds, smelling the aroma of goodness that stood for awake, alive, and able. Luckily, I didn’t need sugar or creamer. I would only dilute my fuel, and who needed one more thing to run low on?

  I put my feet up on the table and just relaxed a while, enjoying the sounds of a peaceful neighborhood. Was that because Don had passed out? Getting an idea, I picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” a female voice answered.

  “Macie. How are you? What are you up to today?”

  “I’m working. In one hour.” She sounded annoyed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Where do you work?”

  “Yeah, you definitely should have known that by now.” She sound angry at me.

  “Sorry. How’s the new boyfriend?” I asked, sheepishly.

  “He’s fine. It’s not like I’m jumping into anything,” she retorted.

  “Oh, geez, Macie. I’m not your brother or your dad; I’m not judging. Just making friendly conversation.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I need a favor, and I’d pay you back—”

  “Sorry, Mike, I mean—Malachi. Gotta get ready for work. I’m at the Hallmark store in Georgetown. I get a coffee break at 11:15, if you want to come and find me. Gotta go. Bye.”

  Coffee break at 11:15? That sounded like I was welcome. I got up and showered. I saw through the bathroom window that Don’s car was still parked at the house next door. Not a peep. I hoped that meant good news. A part of me kept thinking I should have made a move by now to help her, but the neighbor, Stephen, certainly thought I had done enough. Didn’t he say these things just work themselves out? Somehow, I didn’t believe that. Would she have to get a broken leg or broken arm first?

  Bored, I walked to the corner store and bought a cheap cigar. It was a bad habit that hit me when I was nervous, but it gave me a reason to get out. Would I still care tomorrow, when I had a job to do and less time to think about Don and Sofie? Was this just me using my nervous energy to be a do-gooder? I lit up outside the store. That cigar was nasty. I only took two more puffs and threw it away, then I walked back to the house.

  Henry would be getting back later today. Maybe he’d know what to do about Don and Sofie. Meanwhile, I had a girl to see on her coffee break and needed gas in the car if I wanted to make it there.

  ***

 
; I was right on time. “Hey, Macie,” I said, hands in pockets, feeling awkward.

  “Malachi.” She glanced at her watch. “Hang on.” She straightened some bags. “Jeff, I’m going on my coffee break.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  She grabbed her purse and came with me.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Macie, but I have two dollars in my pocket. I’ll get you a black coffee and whatever creamer or sweetener you want.”

  Macie sighed. “Two dollars, huh?” She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll get my own coffee. You just have to get yours.”

  I chuckled nervously. “Gladly, considering I have to ask you a favor.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, can’t wait to hear it.” She opened the door to the coffee shop, and I held it to let her walk in, feeling like a heel. “One cappuccino, please, medium,” she said across the counter.

  “And you?” the young man asked me.

  “Small, black coffee, please. Throw in one of those muffins, too?” I put my cash down on the counter. At least I’d get some calories with my coffee. Macie smiled and put her cash down.

  “You didn’t even know that I drank cappuccino,” she said.

  “Well, no. I’m still getting to know you.” I laughed.

  “But you feel comfortable enough asking a favor of me?”

  “Please don’t feel hurt. I don’t know many people, well, not many people I would trust with anything like this. It’s my neighbor. He’s a cop, and he’s beating his wife. They live right next door to where I live. It always happens first thing in the morning,” I whispered. “See, he works nights, and he’s probably coming home sauced.”

  She looked at me, concerned. I had thought she’d be willing to help with this case, and it appeared I was right.

  “The neighbors are not much help,” I went on. “You may not like this, but I need you to come over to the house one day, or night, when my landlord is there. I’ll tell him you’re just a friend, but you can act like a girlfriend, I mean, act like you’re miffed at me for forgetting a date or something.” I smiled sheepishly.

  “Hmm. I can act miffed easily. So, the favor is that I’ll come over and act like your girlfriend?”

  “We just need to establish a reason for you to be at my house. Sadly, you may not get much notice. I may have to call you one morning to come over and act like you’ve been there all night.”