Runaways (17 page)

“You know Gordon will probably have us arrested,” she said as she reluctantly got into the station wagon. “We should drive awhile to see if we can find Sunshine. I'll make her give us our money back.”

“We won't find her,” Crystal said. “Now that she has our money, she won't be hitchhiking, I'm sure.”

“How could she do this to us? She knew we were just like her!” Raven cried as I drove out of the motel parking lot.

“We're not just like her. We're better off than she
is, Raven. She's alone. We've got each other. How do you think she's going to end up? She'll probably die in some dark alley somewhere,” Crystal predicted.

“Which way?” I asked when I got to the road.

Crystal referred to her maps.

“It looks like we should continue west for about twenty miles. We'll pick up the entrance to one of the main highways and take our chances. Now that we're going back, it won't matter if we get stopped anyway,” she decided.

The funereal atmosphere I had felt earlier yesterday was like a happy celebration compared to the mood we were all in today. Compounding it was the heavy overcast sky. It began to sprinkle and then rain harder. It rained so hard at one point, I had to stop and pull over to the side of the road.

“I hope she did try to hitch a ride and she's out there caught in this,” Raven mumbled. Then she sighed and slumped in her seat as the water gushed over the windshield and down the sides of the station wagon.

“I'm hungry,” Butterfly said. “Won't we stop to get some breakfast somewhere?”

“I don't have any money,” Crystal said. “Brooke, how much do you have exactly?”

“Just some change. Maybe ninety cents. You had everything in your purse.”

“We could share something,” Butterfly suggested.

“And then what do we do about lunch and supper? We have to travel a few days to get back,” Crystal said. “Maybe we should turn ourselves in to the police.”

No one spoke. Every moment that ticked away seemed to be bringing us closer and closer to a
disaster even worse than we had imagined. Finally, the rain slowed down until it was just a fine sprinkle, but it was still windy.

“I feel like such a fool,” I said. “Why didn't I realize what she was like?”

“Don't,” Crystal commanded.

I looked at her in the mirror. Her face was firm. She was right, of course. I hated self-pity and despised it in other people. It made me feel that much worse to hear myself moan and groan.

Raven suddenly sat up.

“Listen. I have an idea. Once when I was with Dede and we were with Charlie Weiner, we didn't have enough money for cold drinks and Charlie thought about pulling up the back seat to look for loose change. Maybe we'll find some now,” she said.

“What good is some more loose change?” Crystal asked.

“At least it will get us some breakfast. I'm hungry, too, Crystal,” she said. “And we'll have some time to think,” she added, turning to me.

I shrugged.

“So we'll pull up the back seat,” I said.

She and I got out and opened the doors. Crystal and Butterfly stepped out and Raven and I dug our fingers into the rear of the seat and pulled up. It came out easily and there we saw a few dollars worth of change, but we also saw something else.

“What's that?” I asked. I didn't touch it. Raven reached down slowly as Crystal looked over her shoulder and Butterfly looked over mine.

It was a heavy clear plastic bag filled with what looked like white flour. Raven opened the bag slowly and put her finger in. She looked at me as she scooped up the powder and brought some to her lips. Her eyes widened.

“It's cocaine!” she declared, holding up the bag. “And a lot of it.”

“Cocaine?” Crystal said. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure. I've seen it before,” Raven said. “My mother and her boyfriends used to leave some around our apartment. This is worth a lot of money.”

“Gordon must have been selling it,” I said. It started to rain harder again, but none of us seemed to care. “Now I understand what he was doing when I saw him with someone at the station wagon late at night. I bet that was his supplier or a customer.”

“You did?” Butterfly asked.

“Yes, a few times. I thought he saw me watching him from the window last night and I got scared,” I said. “Wow, cocaine.” My mind reeled. “And we've been driving around with it stashed right under us.”

“Yes, and across state lines, too. Let's get rid of it right away,” Crystal said.

Raven started to heave it.

“Wait,” Crystal said. Raven hesitated.

“You want to keep it?”

“No. Give it to me,” she said. Raven handed it to her. Crystal opened the bag. “We can't just throw it on the side of the road like this. Someone else might find it and sell it, even to kids, and we'd be responsible.” She walked away from the car.

“What are you doing?” Raven cried.

Crystal shook the bag into the wind. The powder flowed out and began to spread on the ground. The rain started to dissolve it quickly.

“Hurry up before someone comes and sees this,” I cried.

Crystal shook harder. A small white cloud appeared
and then thinned out and was gone in the wind along with most of the powder. Crystal walked a few feet deeper off the road and put the bag under a rock.

“Let's go,” she called as a car appeared coming toward us.

We fixed the rear seat and everyone got back into the wagon. I started driving away as the approaching vehicle slowed. A man and woman gazed at us. They looked about fifty or so. They didn't stop, however. I watched them in my rearview mirror.

“I hope we're never sorry we did that,” Raven whined.

“We'll be sorry about a great many things we've done,” Crystal assured her, “but never about that.”

“Wait a minute,” I said as we continued to drive on. “We can't go back now.”

“Why not?” Crystal asked.

“Gordon might not kill us for taking his car, but dumping his drugs . . .”

“Brooke's right, Crystal. There's no telling what he might do to us,” Raven said.

Crystal was silent.

“We could go to the police,” she said.

“They're going to ask why we didn't come to them when we had the drugs in our hands,” Raven said.

“We should have,” Crystal said mournfully. She looked back through the rearview window as if there were some way we could return to the spot and put the cocaine back into the plastic bag. “We're really in deep water,” she said. “We just better keep running until we think of something else to do.”

Together with the change we had found under the seat, we had a little more than eleven dollars. My stomach was growling, too, so when we saw a
sign advertising the Crossroads Restaurant, I turned off the highway.

“I just hope it's not an expensive place,” Crystal said.

When we set eyes on it, we didn't think it would be. It wasn't rundown, but it looked unpretentious: a restaurant in a building that might have once been someone's home. There was a parking lot in front, two gas pumps, and the road sign advertising,
CROSSROADS RESTAURANT, EAT HERE AND GET GAS
.

“I hope that isn't a comment on the food,” Raven quipped. Crystal and I laughed.

We saw a large trailer home to the right of the restaurant with a sick patch of lawn and a rundown mower in front. Behind the restaurant there was a small cottage, the front windows boarded up, a drainpipe dangling from the right side of the roof. There were a half dozen other cars and three pickup trucks in the parking lot when we pulled up. The screen door was open and we could hear the sound of country music being played inside.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Beggars can't be choosers,” Crystal answered cheerily. I could tell she was trying to make everyone feel better.

We all got out and entered the restaurant. It wasn't as small inside as we thought. There were tables on the right and left but no booths. Directly in front of us was a counter with very worn-looking black vinyl–covered stainless-steel stools, and behind it was the kitchen, wide open to view. A short, thin black man with two patches of stark white hair on the sides of his head was cooking over a grill. He gazed up with some interest and then went back to his griddle cakes, eggs and bacon, and muffins, all of which filled the air with delicious aromas. My stomach did flip-flops
in anticipation and from the looks on the faces of Crystal, Butterfly and Raven, theirs did, too.

A tall woman with drab-looking dark brown hair that had dull gray strands woven through worked the counter and apparently was the only waitress. Her eyes looked watery, bloodshot, and tired, which fit her ashen complexion. She wasn't stout, but she had large upper arms. Her full bosom strained the tight white blouse, which had the top two buttons undone, divulging a deep cleavage. I could see it was a sight not missed by her customers, all males. Her black skirt was tight, so tight that her hipbone was embossed on both sides. She paused, put her hands on her waist and gazed at us.

“If you're here to eat something, find a seat yourselves,” she ordered.

The customers, all looking our way, smiled. One man stuffed his face with an egg-soaked piece of bread as he watched us go to a table.

“Looks like you should go wake Danny, Patsy. This is a real morning rush, huh?” he said.

“You go wake him. Might as well try to wake the dead,” she muttered. Everyone laughed.

“I can wake him for you,” a tall, well-built man of about forty claimed. He was sitting at a table. It was apparent that the place was small enough and the customers familiar enough with each other to participate in everyone's conversations.

“If you were the one to wake him, Gordy, I know he wouldn't be any good to me ever,” she replied.

“That's not much of a loss. He's not any good to you now,” Gordy responded and everyone smiled or laughed again.

“Don't remind me,” she said, turning to take a plate of hot cakes from the cook and then slap it down in front of a customer at the counter. She
wiped her hands on a dishtowel and came around the corner to us. She had no menus in her hands, but seemed to know immediately what I was thinking. “Breakfast menu's on the wall,” she said, nodding to a blackboard on the left.

Everything was cheap enough, but if the four of us ordered something each, we wouldn't have enough money. Crystal studied the board.

“What are you girls doing out this way?” she asked, looking from me to Butterfly and then to Raven and Crystal.

“We're traveling,” I said, “and saw your sign.”

“Told you it pays to advertise,” the man called Gordy shouted. Some of the customers at the counter laughed.

“Shut your face,” she told him. “I have real business here.”

He laughed harder. She turned back to us.

“Can we get one order of pancakes, two eggs, two large orange juices and two coffees?” Crystal asked.

“For all of you?”

“Yes, ma'am,” she said.

The woman stared.

“How much money do you have?” she asked sharply.

“Enough for that,” Crystal replied.

“That's not what I asked,” she snapped. Crystal held her gaze for a moment and then looked at our money.

“We have eleven dollars and forty-three cents,” she told her.

“Total?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Crystal said.

“How far are you going?” she asked. Raven started to squirm in her seat. Butterfly looked more terrified.

“We're supposed to get to California eventually,” I said, “but we were robbed last night and that's all we have.”

“No kidding?” she asked, scratching her head. “How were you robbed?”

“Someone we trusted took our money while we were sleeping,” I said.

“Damn,” she said. “And so you have only eleven dollars left, huh?”

“And forty-three cents,” Crystal corrected.

“Right, forty-three cents.” She sighed deeply and shook her head. “Just call me Mrs. Soft Touch,” she declared, turning toward the cook. “Charlie, four pancake specials.” The cook nodded.

“But we can't afford that,” Crystal said anxiously.

“No one leaves Patsy's place hungry,” she replied. “It's a rule of the house.”

She returned to the counter. We watched her pour four glasses of juice for us.

“That's very nice of her,” Raven said warily. Raven wasn't about to trust a stranger again so quickly.

Two more customers arrived and before we got our food, three more customers followed. Patsy was very busy. I saw the cook put our plates up.

“I'm going to help her,” I said, getting up from the table.

“What?” Raven said.

Patsy was taking an order but saw me move behind the counter. She didn't complain as I picked up the plates and began bringing them back to our table. I had worked as a waitress before and knew how to carry four plates. I served the girls and sat.

“This is good,” Raven said between bites.

“Very good,” Butterfly said. “The eggs are just like I like them, too.”

Patsy had to take orders, work the counter and bus the tables. Her restaurant obviously had a good reputation with the local people despite the slow service because more customers arrived and all seemed to know her. Everyone looked patient, but eager. I ate quickly and then rose again before the girls had finished.

“What are you doing?” Crystal asked.

“Helping her,” I said. I began to clear the dishes off the tables where customers had left. I found the tray for dirty glasses and dishes behind the counter and beside it, a clean wet rag with which to wipe down the tables. As soon as Raven was finished, she rose and began to do the same.

Patsy stood by smiling at us and shaking her head.

“Got new hired help?” someone asked.