Part of him wanted that very thing to happen. He felt sick with guilt, but he couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed himself last night. Perhaps for the first time in a long time.
No! It can’t happen again. I can’t afford to have someone else living here.
Yeah, that’s it, the other voice chided him. It’s all because you can’t afford it.
Growling, Sam opened his door and walked in before he could change his mind. Tamara sat on his couch, Knees tucked to her chest, TV remote in one hand, and a handful of nuts in the other. She was wearing the shirt he’d loaned her last night.
He didn’t know if he was happy that she was dressed, or disappointed.
“Oh good, you’re back!” she exclaimed, getting to her feet. “I hope you don’t mind, but I kind of cleaned up the place.”
Sam had to blink a few times, trying to reorganize his thoughts. He’d expected her to be pissed off, or trying to get into his pants again. Not acting like last night ever happened!
“Cleaned up?” he asked, still trying to understand. He wasn’t a slob, his years in the military having cured him of that. Looking around, he couldn’t tell what she had done. “Um, thanks.”
“So, I was thinking,” Uh-oh, here it comes. “I know you said that you couldn’t afford to keep me around, but if I clean up, and do work around here, and try to find a job to pitch in, could I stay?”
This wasn’t what he expected her to talk about, but he could already see problems. If she lived with him, there was no way he could keep his hands off her. What happened last night was wrong, and shouldn’t happen again. Oh, shit! Is she even on the pill? He couldn’t remember how he’d finished last night. Or how many times, for that matter. What would he do if he’d gotten her pregnant? He could barely support himself. There was no way he could support her and a child.
“Sam?” Her voice cut through his thoughts, but he didn’t look up at her. “What happened to your cheek?”
“I’ve got to get ready for work,” he mumbled, fleeing from the room. He locked his bedroom door behind him, letting his back fall against it. What was he going to do? If he’d knocked her up last night, he couldn’t kick her to the curb. But he couldn’t keep her here, where he’d already proven that he couldn’t withstand her feminine wiles.
He needed time to think, and even a cold shower wasn’t enough to wash away his guilt. He tried to focus on the cold water as it ran down his body. By the time he left the shower he was shivering and running late for work.
“I’ll be back this evening,” he told his houseguest, still refusing to look at her. He didn’t want to be delayed any longer. His boss was understanding but this gave Sam something to focus on. Something that would help him keep his thoughts about Tamara and his daughter away. He hoped.
Traffic conspired against him, and he was swearing up a storm as he pulled into the employee parking lot of Dolphin Cove. Hobbling up to the back entrance, his boss Latoya Garrett met him with only a raised eyebrow and a glance at her watch.
The tall skinny black woman at least waited for him to log in, before talking to him.
“You’re late, again."
"Sorry, Bohemian Rhapsody was on the radio and you can't just turn it off," he joked.
Latoya laughed and shook her head. "You can only use that once to get out of jail and you already tried that one on me a few weeks ago. Some kid puked in the lobby bathroom, and it needs to be cleaned up.” She didn’t even wait for a response, before turning and walking away. Sam didn’t mind watching her leave. She had a rather nice figure, with what he’d once heard her call a ghetto booty. At least today she didn’t have on her white smock to hide it.
Despite his troubles at home, he couldn’t help but admire her body.
“Oh, and Mr. Mendez,” she said turning around. From the way the corners of her mouth tightened, he knew he’d been busted looking at her ass. “I know life’s a little harder with your situation, but please try to be on time more often. I’m tired of coming up with excuses so that the higher ups don’t can your ass.”
His cheek itched, and when he went to rub it, he found the scab from when he’d tripped while running this morning. She probably thought he’d gotten into another fight.
Well, better she think that than what’s really going on, he thought.
Grabbing a mop and bucket, he went to mop up some kid’s breakfast.
He was able to lose himself in his work, cleaning up the place and emptying trashes, until lunchtime.
Sam headed to his favorite spot to eat his lunch: a secluded area in one of the maintenance tunnels where he could watch the dolphins swim, and be left alone. His favorite dolphin, one he’d named Dolly and recognizable by a scar across her round head where she’d been caught up in a fisher’s net, swam up to the glass and watched him eat. He waved to her, and she waved back with her left fin, before swimming in a couple circles, then watched him again.
He couldn’t help but smile at the creature’s antics. Licking the last crumbs off his fingers, he approached the glass.
When he reached for it, the dolphin turned and swam away faster than he’d ever seen a dolphin move before.
He shook his head at the oddity of the smart creature, until his radio squawked. Some unruly kid had tried to start a food fight in the cafeteria, and he needed to clean it up.
Some days he wished he didn’t need this job, but a look back at the tank holding some of the dolphins also made him happy to have it. After hours he was allowed to swim with the gentle creatures. One more activity that helped him avoid memories of his past.
The mother of the unruly child that had started the food fight was still in the cafeteria when he arrived. One look at her expensive clothing and her body language as she talked to Latoya told him all he needed to know about her.
“You can’t talk to my son like that!” the lady screamed. “You can’t blame him for being a kid. It’s not his fault.”
Sam ducked his head and tried to act as if he weren’t there as he went about the task of cleaning up the kid’s mess. No easy feat, considering the way the woman continued to place blame anywhere but where it belonged. Her son was going to be a disaster when he grew up, unless something scared him into becoming responsible. God knows he wouldn’t learn it from his mother.
“Mom, what’s wrong with that man?” Sam heard and cringed inside. He hated that question. Unconsciously he tried to over compensate for his fake leg, and almost slipped on the wet floor for his troubles.
“What man? Oh. He’s just a poor cripple. Don’t stare, Simon. It’s rude.”
Poor cripple?! Sam took a few slow breaths to calm himself. Staring is rude, but calling him a poor cripple, or starting a food fight is perfectly acceptable?
“No, I mean the shadow around him,” the querulous kid continued. “He’s dark.”
“Simon! You can’t talk about people’s skin color like that in front of them.”
Really? That’s where she draws the line, at race? In a place dominated by Mexican-Americans, you’d think the kid would have some more tact!
“Sam,” Latoya said, her voice firm and commanding, “let someone else finish this up. I think there’s some paperwork that needs your attention.”
Sam froze, though it took a great deal of effort to do so. He hadn’t even realized that he’d dropped his mop and was heading towards the uppity bitch to give her a piece of his mind. His boss’s brown eyed stare broke though the red haze in his vision, and he recognized their code for, “Go take a breather.” There wasn’t really paperwork for him to do. Latoya knew about his temper, and they’d long ago established a way for him to get away, before he did something stupid. Something like teach a mother and her son some manners.
Without saying a word, he spun around and left the cafeteria.
His favorite spot back in the maintenance tunnel was no help, however, as Dolly refused to swim over to the glass.
“Some people’s children!” Latoya exclaimed as she entered the
tunnel. “Thanks for stepping out, Sam. I wanted to give her a piece of my mind, too. Can you believe her son?”
“I’m a firm believer that sometimes all a person needs is one spanking every now and then to straighten them out,” Sam replied without looking at her.
“Yeah, but what do you do about the parents?”
“I was talking about the parents.” Sam chuckled dryly.
“You’ve come a long way, from the man that got into fights almost every other week.”
“Helps to have a boss willing to give me a chance.” He finally turned to look at her and their eyes met briefly. She nodded after a second and walked away, leaving him to his thoughts.
He couldn’t wait to get off shift and take a swim with the dolphins. In the water he didn't really notice his leg wasn't there. He'd learned to compensate for it a long time ago. If anything, his normal leg seemed out of place with the extra friction it caused.
His radio chirped again, calling him back to duty. He sighed and made his way back while trying not to think about the spoiled brat or his mother. He managed to lose himself in his work for a few hours until his shift was over. He thought about going home but Tamara was there. Tamara and a conversation he didn't want to have.
Sam's thoughts went back to Dolly and the other dolphins. He nodded to himself and stripped out of his filth encrusted uniform before taking a shower in the employee locker rooms. He stripped off his fake leg and left it beside the tank before climbing in to join them.
Usually the dolphins were waiting for him when he lowered himself in. This time something was different. They were acting strangely. The three dolphins in the tank swam around the far end, occasionally chittering at him. Once he was fully submerged in the salt water, Dolly came up to him and nuzzled his hand. The others joined in and Sam soon forgot their odd behavior as he lost himself in the weightlessness and joy of swimming with the mammals.
Devil's Island Page 9