Seven Stories. Story One, Part 5.
Editor’s Note: We are pleased and excited to introduce our newest Hummingbird Guest Contributor, Beth Kalet. “Trouble” is one of 7 short stories included in Beth’s book Seven Stories, published in 2012. Hummingbird will be publishing “Trouble” in parts, one per week over the next few weeks, so please check out Parts 1 - 3 and stay tuned for the rest of the story as it unfolds here.
Beth is an accomplished writer and editor. Her work, and her own story are what encouraged us to reach out to her. Please give a warm reader’s welcome to Beth, and feel free to comment at the bottom of the page.
Let’s dive into “Trouble.” I assure you, you will not be disappointed. Welcome Beth!
Photo Credit: Diane Pell
Trouble’s Always Just Around the Corner. Part 5.
On Thursday night I had to go right from work to the restaurant and I was so busy I had temporarily forgotten to fret over the whole Harry situation. That’s what I’d begun to call it in my head: “The Harry Situation.” Sometimes I called it “The Harry Affair,” which I thought sounded more elegant and even made me laugh at myself a little. I was tying my apron on and checking my tables when I swore I saw him seated at the bar. It wasn’t him, just a guy wearing one of those silly hats he liked to wear, the newsboy type cap.
But it was an omen. That night, after closing, on my way to my car, I saw him. He was waiting for me. No hat. I should have been faster. He stepped right out from behind a car parked near mine and grabbed my elbow. “Julie!” he said, like we were long lost friends. “Wait up a minute.”
I tried walking faster out of his grip, but he walked along holding on. “I want to talk to you.” He sounded friendly, but I was afraid. “Leave me alone,” I growled. “Go away.” I didn’t look at him. I scanned the parking lot for Detective Grindhart, stupidly imagining he’d been watching from the shadows and would come out to save me.
“You don’t know why I’m here,” he said. “What about the money I left you? Doesn’t that mean anything?”
I had nothing to say. I tried to pull my arm away from his grip but he’d held tight. I didn’t want to get into my car because I was afraid he’d get in with me. My key was in my pocketbook; I couldn’t hit the panic button that would make it beep and honk a big loud distress signal. Just then I heard several other voices walking toward the lot from the back of the restaurant. Some dishwashers and two waitresses, saying good night to each other.
“Don’t say anything,” Harry said to me, squeezing my arm. The group passed me, shouting good night and Harry said quietly: “What’s a matter, Julie? I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone was one of astonishment, like he was hurt by my reaction to him. I wondered whether he knew or did not know that the cops had come to me.
He maneuvered me so we were face to face and, still gripping my elbow with one hand, lifted my chin with the other so I could look in his eyes. “Haven’t you ever been dumped before?” He must not have known about the cops.
“What do you want?” I asked him, determined not to show any emotion.
“That’s better,” he said. “Actually, I need a place to stay tonight. Can I stay with you?”
“You have some nerve!” I was practically shrieking, if it is possible to shriek in a whisper. I think I was hissing. “No. Go away.”
I needed to get into my car but now I felt he would very likely push his way in and I’d be stuck with him. “You cannot stay at my place tonight. That’s final,” I said, pushing him off me with a rush of energy.
“But seriously, Julie, it’s just for tonight. You won’t even know I’m there. It’s late. You can go right to sleep. That’s all I want. I’ll be out in the morning and you’ll never see me again, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
So now I had the old Harry but I knew something he didn’t know I knew and even without that info, what sane woman would allow a creep who’d left her like Harry did me come spend the night? I flashed on what it was that Marla and the others didn’t like about him. He was a snake.
“Harry, you’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “Get out of here. There is no way I want you in my apartment tonight. Go away.” I was still reluctant to get my key out and open my car door, figuring he could muscle the door open and push me over to the passenger’s seat so he could drive us home. A guy like this, he thinks he deserves whatever he asks for. Whatever he wants. Wow. His charm had now completely tarnished.
The last of the late workers were leaving the restaurant now. The big Hawaiian dishwasher, the wiry night manager, and two cleanup guys of middling size. I could hear them talking behind me and I took a chance. With my right hand, I reached into my purse quickly as I could. I located my key and pressed it until the car honked and beeped. All at once the dishwasher and the three others came running toward me, Harry squeezed my elbow and let it drop, and I screamed “Help!” My voice was weak and wobbly but my gang surrounded me and Harry disappeared.
“What happened? Are you okay, Julie? What was that? Why do you girls go out into the lot alone? Never do that. Ask for an escort.” There was a lot of scolding and a lot of hugging, as my friends offered to follow me home and I asked them all to do just that.
The dishwasher, who everybody calls Mowgli, and the night manager, Angelo, came in with me. I had to tell them a little about The Harry Situation and then I called Detective Grindhart, while they kept watch over me. Angelo insisted I come and stay at his house at least for tonight and he was already on the phone with his wife Carol. “Make up the spare bedroom,” I could hear him telling her, as I waited on hold hoping to connect with Grindhart and not some cop I didn’t know.
“Yeah, remember Julie? From the picnic last summer? Yeah, that one. She needs a place to stay tonight. Yeah, her place got robbed or something. Me and Mowgli are with her now. We’re just gonna talk to the cops here and then come home. Maybe put on a kettle, Carol. Okay?”
I packed a bag and at Grindhart’s direction, left for Angelo’s. Grindhart said he’d send someone to watch there, and he’d be coming to watch over my place. Not to worry. What makes a cop think that just because he tells you not to worry, you won’t?
On Friday morning, when I woke up I could hear Angelo and Carol’s kids running up and down the carpeted hallways of their house. I peeked out from a curtain but since the spare room was in the basement, all I could see was some bushes and a coiled green garden hose. I checked my phone. No calls. Luckily they had a downstairs shower and I could pull myself together before I had to go upstairs.
Pushing open the basement door, I stepped out into the kitchen, close in to a cupboard and a shelf jam-packed with cereal boxes and cookbooks. I did not remember going down past this the night before.
“How’d you sleep? Have come coffee, honey,” Carol said to me. “Do you feel any better?”
“Thanks,” I said but knew if I stayed for coffee I’d probably have to answer or at least fend off some questions. “Gotta get to work,” I said. “But thanks, thanks very much. And please, tell Angelo thanks again. ”
“Sure honey,” she said. “You have a good day. ” She followed me to the door, a big pink terrycloth bathrobe belted around her waist.
I looked for signs of police protection on the street as I clutched my car keys but I didn’t see any. For the next few days, I stopped home only with a plainclothes police officer as a chaperone and only to refill my overnight bag. I stayed at Marla’s the next night and told her everything. She was shocked and good friend that she is, she did not tell me she told me so. Not at first, anyway. Detective Grindhart came over to her place and we all sat at Marla’s little round table while he took notes. Marla told him everything she had noticed about Harry and I have to say, it was pretty embarrassing.
Part 6, the finale, to follow.
Story One, Trouble’s Always Just Around the Corner, Unfolds
Story One. Part 1.
Story One. Part 2.
Story One. Part 3.
Story One. Part 4.
Story One. Part 5. (This one.)
© Beth Kalet
To learn more and to purchase Beth Kalet’s book, Seven Stories, please click here. You may also contact Beth through Hummingbird by clicking here.
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