Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 03 - Insatiable (24 page)

The other patrons returned their glassy stares to the TV. A dead body gets everyone’s attention. The screen cut to a female anchor sitting at a desk, above her left shoulder a graphic of a person’s head with a ? over the face floated. “She says that they do not have a suspect yet.”

A picture of the outside of Ana Maria’s mansion appeared. “They say that the kidnapper forced Ana Maria’s father to open the safe and then killed him and his wife. The only reason that Ana Maria survived is that Blane arrived on the scene and scared the fugitive away. They say that he is a hero.”

I sipped my beer and stared at the screen. The news went to commercials. When it came back they were talking about a different story. Something to do with a new project to help the city stop sinking.

Our food arrived. Rice and beans and some kind of meat. We dug in, eating in silence. I looked over to the crowd at the bar. On the TV was an image of the cathedral in Mexico City’s central Zocalo. In the shot you could see how it was breaking apart because of its sinking foundation.

I watched as the man with a date stood up and headed toward the bathroom leaving the lady alone. I watched one of the single men at the bar eyeing the woman.
 
The man took a step toward her. She noticed and averted her eyes. The man said something to the single woman but she did not respond. The man said something else, the woman looked up at him, her cheeks were red.

The woman’s date came back from the bathroom. The single man stepped back but not before the guy saw what was happening. I looked over at the door. It was close to them but if we hurried we’d be able to get out of it. I stood up and grabbed Izel’s arm. “What?” She cried right as the guy with the date punched at the guy without one. I reached into Izel’s purse, pulled out some money, dropped it on the table and then moved along the wall.

The guy with the date had missed and now the guy without the date was aiming. The other men at the bar were all standing up, not sure which side they were on yet. The woman held her hands over her mouth in horror. I squeezed behind one of the unsure men and opened the door as the guy without a date hit the other guy right in the nose. He stumbled back into the woman and we were out the door.

MY FAVORITE MODE OF TRANSPORTATION

I did not sleep well. There was a street lamp right outside our window and cats fucking right under it. I laid awake listening to the screaming felines below and thought about my life. It was one of those conversations you have in your head that you’re trying not to have the whole time. One voice telling me I’m a fuck up, another telling me I have a chance at greatness, a third just begging me to go to sleep.

When the sun began to light the sky and the cats voices faded, I slipped into a restless sleep. Izel woke me. I jumped away from her. She backed up her palms toward me. “It’s OK,” she said. “It’s me.”

I nodded and looked around the room. It looked used up. I felt like I fit in. Blue was waiting by the door. “I think he wants to go out,” Izel said.
 

“Yeah, I’ll take him.” I pulled back on my big sweatshirt and a pair of jeans I’d borrowed from Izel. They were tight and short but not painful. I opened the door to the dark hallway and looked both ways. Not a creature was stirring…

On the street Blue did his business and I looked around the dilapidated neighborhood. The houses appeared to be falling in on themselves. But the people who passed wore pressed clothing and carried themselves with dignity. Blue and I wandered around the block. He inspected the ground while I appreciated the crisp morning.

I stopped at a food stand and bought bread and coffee for Izel and me. I got a large sausage, uncooked, for Blue. Upstairs Izel was coming down the hall. Her hair was wet and she carried a damp towel. “If you want to shower it’s down there,” she said, pointing to the communal bathroom.

“Maybe after breakfast,” I said. We ate our meal in silence. Blue finished first and curled into a ball in front of the door. His snoring was the only sound except for the chewing in my head. When we’d finished I turned to the phone. It was time to call Mulberry. It was time to start all this, whatever it was. This was its beginning.

Mulberry sounded sleepy. “I’m near the airport,” he told me. I heard him sip something.

“I can meet you there,” I said.

“I’ve got wheels, I’ll pick you up.”

I told him where I was and then hung up the phone. He was a good hour away and knowing his morning routine he wouldn’t get going until his cup of coffee was empty.

I called Malina. “You know you don’t have to do this.” I could hear her bristle over the phone. “Never mind,” I said, and then told her where we were.

I went to take a shower. It was worse than I expected. I thought there would be a shower, not a room with a spigot, a string and a rotted out door. I stepped into the dark space, the only light came from the hole in the bottom of the door. I kept my socks on but took everything else off. I flung my clothing over the top of the door. My towel was there too. The bar of soap went on the floor by my feet. I pulled the string and a gush of cold water hit my head. I immediately let go and gasped.

“Jesus Christ,” I said out loud. I thought about just putting my clothes back on and foregoing the shower until we were somewhere more hospitable but knew that it could be days before that. Hell, I might be dead before that. For all I knew the cops were on their way to get me right now and this was my last chance to shower before prison.

I pulled the lever again and leaned my head back. Using my free hand I moved my hair around getting it all wet. I released the string and grabbed for my soap, it was slippery and I dropped it. I tried not to think about Mexican prison as I picked it up again. I ran the bar of soap in my hair and over my body. Then one last pull of the string and I rinsed it all off. I grabbed my towel and wrapped myself in it trying to stop my chattering teeth.

I dressed quickly. My skin was still wet so my clothing stuck to it. I hurried down the hall in my wet socks making squishy noises all the way. When I got back to the room Izel was not alone. Malina turned when I came in and lit the room with her smile.

She crossed the room and enveloped me in a hug. Her beauty had only improved with age. Malina was shorter than me with her compact body squeezed into a pair of jeans and sweater that just barely fit. She pulled away and held me by the shoulders. Looking up at me she said, “It is so good to see you.”

I smiled, conscious of my wet socks. “Yes. Only I wish it was better circumstances.”

She hugged me again, pressing her warm body against mine. I held my towel and soap in my hand, but I managed to hug back. I heard her sniffle on my shoulder and realized that she was crying softly. “It’s OK,” I said. “Shhh.”

She stood back and wiped the back of her hand across her face. Malina had subtle lines around her eyes and on her forehead that were not there three years ago. However, her rich, hazel almond-shaped eyes were just as beautiful, maybe even more so since they now held a note of wisdom missing before. “Hey, it’s going to be OK.”

“Yes, yes. It is just so good to see you. I’m sorry.”

A horn honked outside. Blue stood up and followed me to the window. I pushed the curtain aside. Parked in front of our dilapidated motel was an RV. A rental. I grinned as I watched Mulberry climb out of the cab, reaching for the sky in a stretch. “He’s here,” I said.

Quickly pulling off my wet socks, I put my feet into my sneakers and we all hurried downstairs. When Blue recognized the broad man, he took off at a run. He jumped around Mulberry, swinging his tail, his tongue hanging out. “Hey boy, good to see you,” Mulberry said. He squatted down to Blue’s level and rubbed his left flank. Blue stopped his jumping, twisted around and sat on Mulberry’s foot. Then he looked up at him with his big mismatched color eyes.

“Has he gotten bigger?” Mulberry asked.

“Not as much as you,” I said, motioning toward his ever-increasing waistline. When I met Mulberry he looked like he was made of stone. His arms and shoulders still shared that boulder-like appearance but the last couple of years behind a desk had turned his washboard stomach into a plump little gut. His brown hair had a dab more silver at the temples but his green eyes still sparkled with glints of yellow when he smiled at me.

Mulberry reached out, and grabbing me, pulled me into a bear hug. I put my arms around him and squeezed back. It felt so good to be enveloped in his arms. I almost started crying, but Blue’s nose in my belly reminded me of my responsibilities. I reached down a hand and pet his head. We felt almost like a family.

“And who are these two lovely ladies?” Mulberry asked. I pulled away and looked at Izel and Malina. I smiled.

“This is Izel,” she nodded her head.

“Nice to meet you,” Mulberry said, he held out his hand and Izel shook it, a blush of color rising to her cheeks.

“And this is Malina.” Mulberry let go of Izel’s hand and offered it to Malina. She shook it with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

“Well, ladies,” Mulberry said, “welcome to your chariot.” He swung his arm at the RV. Izel and I smiled. Malina looked at the RV like it was an animal, one that might turn on her at any moment. Mulberry opened the side door. I climbed in.

It surprised me how many memories came back as I looked around the small space. Mulberry and I used an RV during our escape from the States, a time I think back on with both fear and fondness. Directly in front of me was the kitchen - a sink in the corner, a small three-burner stove, and above that, a microwave. Right next to me was the fridge. I took a step and was in what would be called the living room. A small table sat between cushioned benches against one side. Across from them was another bench, this one longer. Beyond them was the windshield and the captain’s chairs. A foam mattress filled the crawl space above the front seats.

I turned to look toward the back of the RV. The curtain was pulled across the bedroom. I went and pushed it aside. Mulberry’s bag was sitting in the center of the plastic-wrapped mattress. To my left was the shower and to my right the small toilet stall. When I looked up, Izel was standing in the doorway. “Come on in,” I said. She climbed the few steps and then stood staring at the kitchen. She reached out and ran her hand across the back of one of the benches. She pulled away from the scratchy material.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You get used to it.” Malina stepped into view. She smiled at the small living space. “Cute, right?” She nodded at me.

The side door slammed shut and a moment later Mulberry climbed into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up,” he called. “We’re moving out.”

Izel and Malina turned to me for direction. “Here,” I motioned toward the bench on the side of the table closest to the front. “Sit down,” I said to Izel. “Malina, you can sit here.” I pointed to the bench across the aisle. Once seated, I showed them where the seat belts were. Then I climbed into the front. Blue laid down in the aisle between Izel and Malina. Mulberry turned to me with a big grin brightening his face.

The RV roared to life and we pulled out of the parking lot. “Here we go again,” he said as we merged into traffic. “Are you holding wet socks?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

THE PLAN

“Any thoughts?” Mulberry asked.

“About?”

“A plan?”

I looked over at Mulberry, his eyes were glued to the traffic in front of us. “I was thinking you might have some ideas. I mean, you’ve got a recreational vehicle, you must have a plan.”

Mulberry smiled. “I figured this way we’re on the move. And there are lots of hiding places. I figure I’m just a tourist and if anyone asks you’re not even here. And this baby is pretty easy to defend.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve got a gun for each of us under the kitchen sink, just in case.” He took his eyes off the road and made eye contact for a moment. Despite all the joking, we both acknowledged how dangerous this game was.

“Right,” I said.

“So?” Mulberry asked, turning his attention back to the road.
 

I looked out the window and watched a man on a bike in my mirror as he expertly maneuvered through traffic. He pulled up alongside us and I looked down at him. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. Looking both ways, he blew the red light we sat stopped at. “Well, I was thinking about maybe heading south,” I said. The light turned green and with a wheeze the RV moved forward.

“South?”

“Yeah, get out of Mexico, maybe head down to Costa Rica.” We passed a collection of food stands set up in front of a church. The smell of cooking meat reached my nose and made my mouth water. “I would rent a place on the ocean.” I could almost see Blue and I jogging on the beach as the sun rose. Me drinking tequila as it set. “I figure I’ll just disappear.”

“And what about Ana Maria?”

I turned to Mulberry and smiled. “What about her?”

“Well?”

Izel and Malina were leaning forward from the back, hanging on every word.

“I guess she’ll get away with it. I guess I don’t much care that she killed her parents or any of that shit. I should just let Bobby Maxim handle the whole damn mess. He’s the one who got me into this.”

“That’s not true,” Izel said. “You do care, you must.”

I turned in my seat and looked at her. “I do?” I sat back and closed my eyes, the image of Blue and me on the beach replaced by one of Ana Maria’s mother’s dead eyes. “I guess I do.”