Authors: Catherine A. Winn
The bus driver dropped her off about a block from the entrance to the trailer park. “Sorry, this is where I turn. Be careful walking near the shoulder, the drivers speed along this highway.”
“Is there a bus going back?” Shelby asked.
“Every thirty minutes until the last bus around nine o'clock. You have to be here or it won't stop.”
She thanked him and waited until he drove on. She looked around and realized she was in a seedy area of town, with tire shops, used car lots, diners, and beauty shops. She refused to listen to the nagging voice inside her head that kept telling her this wasn't the best idea she ever had. She had her cell, so she could always call for a ride. If she hurried she could be home by four.
She walked at a fast clip to the Garden Ridge entrance. It was a gravel drive leading to an old manufactured home that had seen better days. It had a faded office sign nailed to the porch railing but the wooden deck and front stairs were in decent shape. Shelby went up and opened the door. A bell jangled.
An obese woman in a bright orange Mexican dress and frizzy salt-and-pepper hair sat behind a desk just inside the door. “Yeah?”
Shelby focused on the bifocal half-glasses that rested on the tip of her nose. “I'm supposed to meet a guy named Harlan. I forget his last name. I'm not even sure I have the right park.”
“You the babysitter?” The woman laughed. “Harlan is going nuts taking care of that kid.”
Shelby's heart leaped.
A large man with a pot belly came out of an office behind the woman. He furrowed his brow as he adjusted his suspenders. “What do you want with Harlan?”
His face was beet red and he had dried spittle at the corners of his mouth. Shelby controlled showing her disgust.
“I'm Janice,” Shelby said. “A woman called me and told me to sit for this Harlan person for a couple of hours. My little sister wrote it down but didn't take a phone number. She's so dumb.”
“She's okay, Bud,” the woman said.
“Give Harlan a call to see if she's expected.” Bud headed back to his office.
That was bad. Shelby's heart pounded faster. What should she say? Her instincts were telling her to run, now. But what about Josh?
The woman blew out a loud sigh. “He's such a jerk.” She reached for the phone.
Shelby started babbling. “Like I said, I'm not even sure I got the message right. Once my sister sent me to a neighbor's house and she never called. Then the real lady got mad when I didn't show up. Lost a lot of money when she dropped me.”
The woman put the receiver down. “Just go up the road, either side, to the very back. Harlan's in the last row. He's got a red pickup.”
“Thanks.”
Outside, she breathed a little easier. The trailers all around her appeared deserted. Probably everyone was at work. The condition of the park screamed neglect and cheap. In the last row, the trailers were scattered with several empty lots between. She sidled up to one and peeked around the corner. A small dog began yapping inside. An angry male voice yelled, “Shut up, you no good turd!” It kept barking. She heard a loud thud as something hit the floor. The dog yelped then got quiet.
Shelby spotted the red pickup next to a small RV, like her father sold a long time ago. The RV was sitting on all four tires instead of the stabilizers. They were ready to pull it out. She ducked back when the door opened, then dropped on all fours in the tall grass and weeds to watch. A man came out, slamming the door. Harlan was definitely the creepy man. He slid behind the wheel of the pickup. The door opened again and Myra leaned out. “Don't forget the bottled water!”
“I won't.” Harlan rolled out of the lot, turning Shelby's way.
She crouched low, her head in the weeds, until he was well past her and then sat and leaned her back against the flashing of the trailer. They were getting ready to leave.
Josh must be inside with Myra who had a gun and wouldn't hesitate to use it. If Shelby could distract her somehow and make her leave the trailer, maybe she could sneak inside and get Josh. She pulled out her cell and hesitated. She didn't want the police to come screaming into the RV park and risk a shootout and hostage situation with her baby brother inside. Would Myra do the kill-everyone thing then commit suicide? Her mind raced. Harlan could come back any minute, hook up, and take Josh off to parts unknown where he'd never be found while she was explaining things to 911. She had to disable the RV and fast. Shelby worked her way to the other end of the trailer, scanning the ground for something sharp. If she stabbed a tire on the RV, that would slow them down and give her time to explain to the police what they were facing. In turn, it would give them time to get here already prepared for a hostage situation. But her real hope was she could rescue Josh while Harlan and Myra were out looking at the tire.
There were various pieces of scrap metal back there, maybe there would be something that would cut, or something to push the stem of the tire nozzle. Avoiding spiders, she sorted through a pile of rusted metal and aluminum and found what she needed. A triangle of metal that had a sharp point and seemed to be heavy enough so it wouldn't bend. Too bad she hadn't worn gloves. The edges of the scrap piece would slice her fingers. Glancing around she saw a dirty towel that had been baked by the sun into a hard lump. It was stiff. She held it away from her as she shook it out. She wrapped it around the end of the metal shard and headed for the RV.
Skirting to the back of the lot, Shelby worked her way around until she was crouched at the rear of the RV. She listened. Myra had a window open somewhere and was humming along with the radio.
The back tire closest to her couldn't be seen by any window. She could do her work then disappear in the green space to call 911. Shelby positioned herself over the tire. Using both hands, she grasped the piece of metal and stabbed hard. It drove into the tire and stuck. She tried to pull it out but it wouldn't move. Sitting on her haunches, she wiggled the metal. As she pushed it one way, air began to escape, but the minute she let it go, the air stopped coming out. At this rate it wouldn't happen until they were on the road. She listened. The music had stopped, but she could hear water running.
Shelby grasped with both hands and pulled again.
A shadow loomed over her.
“I should shoot you, but the damage is done.” Myra aimed a pistol at Shelby's head. “Harlan just bought new tires. I'll let him take his anger out on you. He'll like that.” She waved the gun twice, pointing in the direction she wanted Shelby to go.
Shelby stood up.
“Wait. Give me your cell phone.” Myra pointed the gun at Shelby's pocket.
Shelby handed it over. Myra dropped it on the ground and smashed it with the heavy heel of her brown brogues. Then she stepped behind Shelby and shoved her around the corner of the RV, causing her to stumble.
“Hurry up,” Myra ordered. “Into the RVâand watch it, I'm very good with this gun.”
Shelby opened the door and stepped up, images of kicking behind her to knock Myra off balance swam through her mind, but if Myra didn't drop the gun, she could still shoot her. Another fleeting thought of rushing in and slamming the door on Myra and locking herself in disappeared when Myra suddenly shoved her. She took a step, trying not to fall but her knees hit the floor hard. Myra was inside and the door locked by the time she rose, rubbing her left kneecap. It was bleeding.
“Here.” Myra tossed her a roll of paper towels. “Don't bleed on everything.”
Shelby caught the roll, ripped off a towel and folded it. She pressed it against the wound. “Where's Josh?”
“His name is Roger now. His father will be pleased our baby has his name.”
Shelby blinked. “What?”
“Don't let the paper towel fall off,” Myra ordered, annoyed. “Oh, just go in the bathroom right there. You'll find Band-Aids in the cabinet. Leave the door open.”
There was something frantic in the way Myra spoke that warned her to follow directions.
“Yes, Myra,” she said, meekly. Holding the towel next to her knee she walked bent over to the tiny bathroom in the hall. She moved things around in the cabinet until she found what she needed. Sitting on the toilet, she cleaned the wound with peroxide and put a Band-Aid on it. The whole time Myra stood in the doorway aiming the gun.
“Where's Roger?” Shelby put the peroxide away and tossed the used paper towel and cotton balls in the trash basket next to the toilet.
Myra backed up, waving the gun. She opened the door at the end of the hall and waved for Shelby to pass her. “Don't try anything.”
Shelby wasn't thinking of that, all she could concentrate on was Josh. There he was, in a cramped netted playpen on the floor next to the wall. Shelby hurried over and snatched him up. He recognized her and made a few sluggish moves.
“What's wrong with him?” She loosened his clothes and felt his temperature with her cheek. “Is he sick?”
“Relax,” Myra said. “Harlan can't stand babies so he gave him sinus medicine to make him sleep.”
Shelby glared at her. “That could kill him or damage his kidneys and liver. How could you let him do that?”
Myra shrugged. “It was necessary at the time. Now that Little Roger is in my care, he won't be having any more.”
“He needs fluids. Bring me a bottle or let me fix it.”
Myra clenched her teeth. “This is my baby, now. I'll take care of him.”
“Myra, all I care about is that he's in trouble. Let me help you get him in better shape.” Shelby was desperate.
“Okay. You sound like you know what you are doing. The stuff you need is in the kitchen, I'll go first.”
Shelby put Josh back in the playpen and rushed to the kitchen. Myra had shopped well. Shelby found the drink that replaced electrolytes, prepared a bottle, and rushed back to Josh. He wanted to sleep but Shelby propped him up and joggled him until he managed to drink the full amount. Myra watched from the doorway.
“When's the last time he had a bath?”
“I've been busy. He'll get a bath every day as soon as we're out of here.”
Shelby pulled off Josh's clothes and tossed the diaper. She gasped at the concentrated yellow urine. “See this color, deep yellow means he needs liquids. It's bad, Myra, very bad for a baby.”
Josh also had the beginnings of diaper rash. She vowed they would pay for this but right now she had to take care of her brother. She carried him to the kitchen sink and filled it with warm water. Shelby bathed him, rinsing several times. Myra put the gun in her waistband and brought Shelby towels.
“You'll need this.” Myra handed her a diaper and hovered while she spread ointment on him.
Shelby pointed to the rash. “This is what happens when he's not kept clean and dry. That's probably why he was crying so much. It hurts and he's not used to lying around in filthy diapers.”
“You seem to know a lot.”
“Had to learn fast. Like you.” Shelby decided she'd better start praising her instead of criticizing. If Myra was convinced she was now Josh's mother then it wouldn't hurt to go along with the idea.
“Take him to the bedroom and close the door,” said Myra sternly. “Bring some food for him but stay in there.”
She needed to get Myra to relax and trust her. “You did a great job shopping for the baby. Look at all this food,” Shelby said. “He's got quite a good variety.”
Myra grunted but seemed slightly less cold. “Hurry up.”
Shelby grabbed some cereal, mixed it up, and put it in another bottle. She'd have to cut the tip of the nipple to make it big enough to get the cereal through. She reached for a paring knife and she saw Myra stiffen. Carefully, she placed the nipple on the counter, sliced a small part of the tip off, and slid the knife away from her. Myra relaxed as she assembled the bottle. She grabbed some juice too.
Josh had roused enough from the bath and fluids to eat some of the cereal. He grabbed Shelby's fingers and wouldn't let go. It almost made her cry to think of the neglect he had gone through. When he finished his meal, his drowsiness seemed more natural.
Shelby dressed Josh in a shirt and laid him on the bed. It was hot back here with the sun beating through the window above the queen-sized bed. This bedroom was larger than Shelby expected but still seemed cramped. The other beds must be foldouts from the dining table and benches or the sofa. Josh slept while she moved to the window. She might escape, but she couldn't leave Josh. It was then that she sighted a screw in the window track. It only allowed the window to open about a foot. It kept burglars out but it kept victims locked in.
She curled up next to Josh.
Gravel hit the side of the RV as the truck pulled in. Shelby sat against the headboard and pulled the sleeping baby closer. Harlan was back.
From her location, Shelby heard the door to the RV open at the same time as the door of the truck slammed. Myra talked fast. Harlan raised his voice. Shelby's heart raced as she put a protective arm around Josh. Another door slam, pounding feet, Myra calling frantically from behind him, then the door flew open.
Harlan's face registered disbelief.
Myra's voice rattled on. “It'll be okay. We can take her with us. She's good with the baby. He doesn't cry when she's with him.”
Harlan shouted, “Shut up and let me think!” He closed the door on Myra and leaned his whole weight on it.
Myra knocked. “Harlan, don't do anything rash. Everything will be fine.”
“Shut up, Myra, and stay out of here or I'm throwing that kid against the wall head-first!”
Myra got quiet.
Shelby scooted over to block Harlan's access to Josh and pleaded for both of them. “She's right about taking care of him. Josh needs me. You two were about to kill him with that stuff.”
“You shut up, too!”
Harlan walked over to the playpen and kicked it, slamming it against the wall.
Josh woke and started to cry.
Harlan cursed. “That's all that brat does!”
Though her hands trembled, Shelby picked Josh up and crooned to him. “It's okay, sweetie, quiet now.” Josh settled down and reached for her hair. This time Shelby let him grab a fistful. “See? That's all he wants.”
Harlan lowered his voice with a sideways glance at the door. “I never wanted to do this.”
“Then let us go,” Shelby whispered. “The best thing you can do is let me walk out of here with him while you two take off.”
Harlan ran a hand over his nose and mouth, wiping away the beads of sweat. “She won't let that happen. Besides, you ruined a tire.”
“I was just trying to slow you down. You can use the truck.”
“Who knows you're here? Forget it. The place would be swarming with cops if they knew.” He put his hand on the knob. “Just keep that kid quiet.”
Shelby nodded.
He opened the door. Myra was hovering trying to listen. “We gotta talk.” He closed the door.
Shelby sank on the bed, weak from the adrenaline that had rushed to help her during the confrontation and then sudden disappointment when she realized Harlan wasn't going to let them go on his own. She hugged Josh tighter.
Angry voices raised and lowered at the other end of the RV, but she only caught a few bits and pieces. She heard Myra tell him things would work out. Their voices lowered, which wasn't a good sign. Shelby heard Harlan leave, then walk around the back. Soon she felt the RV rise off the ground and heard the noise of tires being changed. Myra stayed away. For the next thirty minutes Josh played on the bed with a stuffed animal. He needed a diaper change so Shelby opened the door. “Myra, I have to change the baby.”
There was no answer. Shelby went into the hall. “Myra?” Empty. Moving fast, she searched for a landline phone. No such luck. She grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, dampened it, went back and changed Josh's diaper, using more cornstarch. She hugged him tight. “There you go, Joshie. You'll be back to normal soon. Let's see if we can make a run for it.”
She righted the playpen and put him in it. Through the window she could see Harlan's shirt as he squatted over the tire. She ran to the front window. Myra sat in a lawn chair in the shade of a live oak. The bulge of the gun was obvious in her waistband. Escape was out.
If she made herself useful to them, they might keep her around. She was hungry and they probably were, too. Shelby searched the kitchen. Myra had stocked up for the trip. Shelby put in three large potatoes to bake, grabbed some hamburger meat and made a meat loaf then popped that in the oven next to the potatoes. She found a package of pre-made salad, dumped it into a colander and rinsed it, then she cut up a tomato and put the salad in the fridge to chill. Lastly, she made a pitcher of instant iced tea.
While lunch was baking, she set the table.
When the door opened again it was Harlan. He stopped halfway inside. “Smells good in here.”
“I was hungry and thought you might be, too, especially afterâ¦you know, the tire and all. Sorry about that.”
“I'm starved.” Harlan sounded gruff. “What are we having?”
“Baked potato, meat loaf, salad, and iced tea.”
“Myra,” he yelled out the door. “The girl's cooked dinner.”
Harlan let the door slam and went to the bathroom to clean up. Myra came inside with an unhappy frown. “What'd you do that for?”
“Thought I'd make myself useful.” Shelby swallowed hard. “Besides, we're all hungry, right?”
Myra glared at her suspiciously. “It's going to slow us down. We were getting ready to leave.”
“Well,” Shelby said. “If we eat now, then we won't have to stop on the road for hours. We can get a lot of miles in.”
“We?” Myra patted the gun in her waistband. With a cruel grin she came closer. “Do you think you're going with us?”
Shelby's insides twisted. She had one chance to convince Myra to take her with them orâ¦she shuddered at the unfinished thought. “Please take me with you, Myra. I don't want to go home. Mom doesn't love me or Josh. The only thing she cares about is going to parties and spending money Roger doesn't have.”
Myra looked surprised but skeptical.
Shelby thumbed her chest. “I'm the one who takes care of Josh. And, wellâ¦just look at himâ¦he still needs me.”
“You think I can't take care of him?” Myra snapped, but the hesitancy of uncertainty in her eyes betrayed her.
Shelby pushed her advantage. “Sure you can, but only after I teach you what I know.” She better not go too far and make Myra feel useless. “You love him, right? So you'll learn fast.”
They stared at each other for a minute.
Harlan came out of the bathroom and stopped short. His eyes darted from one to the other. “What's goin' on?”
“Nothing. I just changed my mind,” Myra said. “We're keeping her with us until we get to Florida.”
Harlan's eyebrows shot up. Myra crooked a finger and he followed her to the bedroom. Shelby sagged against the counter. It was hard trashing her mother but it had worked. She heard them clearly, despite the harsh whispers.
“You said we were gonna dump her before we left. You told me it was too risky keeping her.”
“I decided to listen to you. She'll be a big help. We'll do it in the âglades.”
Shelby swallowed hard. Myra had already decided to kill her. Harlan apparently didn't want that but he was going along with it.
Myra came back into view. “How long before dinner?”
Harlan paused behind Myra. He had an odd expression. Feeling jumpy, Shelby forced herself to meet his expression with one of false bravery. She was going to have to pretend to like him if she wanted stay alive. “Ab-about thirty minutes.”
“I'll go play with Roger.” Myra turned around.
Shelby and Harlan watched her walk to the back. Harlan grunted and went to turn on the television. Shelby leaned on the counter, feeling weak. Would Myra change her mind again? Would the police find her body in the green space long after the RV had disappeared? She had to find a way to escape even if she had to leave without Josh.