Love and Crosses

My tired body scurried off into the dark street which was now empty except for a few drunkards lurking around. It was drizzling and I could feel my pink casual polo plaster on my back from the rain splashes. The bitter winds swayed my hair as I struggled to keep them out of my face. Occasionally, some of the drunkards called out to me making all sorts of shameless offers. ‘Hey, Mel! You should come in with me. I’ve got the perfect cup of coffee fitting for this weather you know.’ He said with a bizarre smile on his scarred face which was followed by an outburst from a group of old drunkards standing in a half circle close. ‘Pillocks’. I muttered under my breath as I made another frantic effort to clear my hair from my face. This part of town is highly ranked for its high crime rate which is why I work tirelessly as an attendant at Old Barts’. I need to save up enough money to leave the ghetto and start up a proper and decent life in Queens. It has always been my dream to live in one of those tall glass fancy buildings in the city. Stella saturated me with countless stories about the buildings and lovely sights there. Of course, she knew. She worked as a bellhop in one of the biggest hotels there. Whenever she came around, I’d listen to her whine and talk about the rich handsome dudes that came to the hotel with their classy and mean-looking girlfriends. My imaginations didn’t do justice to the views from up there at night. And she’d go ahead to tell me about the tales of affluent, plump, old women who came to have a nice time at the hotel with young boys who looked like their last child. Trust Stella to always add a bit of humor. All her stories always left my sides aching and tears rolling down my cheeks from too much laughter. I always looked forward to her visits every fortnight. ‘Honk!’ came the loud blaring from a black posh-looking BMW 5 that immediately jolted me from my thoughts. I had gone off the runway while having my pretty little fantasy. But something was wrong. We hardly see such luxury cars in the part of Stratford where I lived. Not giving it much of a thought, I continued the walk to my apartment. It was raining torrentially now. Increasing my footsteps, I made a turn by my right which led to the shack I was able to get two months ago. Down the street, there had been an accident; a terrible one. But little did I care. Being more concerned about getting out of my soaked clothes, I walked past without a flinch. It wasn’t the first accident scene I had seen. With the rate of drinking and drugs amongst teens and fights between drug lords of the area, there was barely a day without these things occurring. I knew better than to stop and wait. I didn’t want to get myself involved in a mess with Baron. Baron is the most feared drug dealer in the whole of Downtown. It was hard going against his will and it seemed as though he could never get caught up with the law as some moles in the Force are also on his payroll. I half-ran up the stairs in the 5-story building where I lived and walked past the different cacophonies from speakers and voices across the pathway to my door. I fumbled for my key in my sling bag across my shoulder, pushed the creaky metal door opened, and closed it with a loud thud. The room was dark, bleak, and extremely cold. I stepped into the apartment which contained a small kitchen and washroom. As I made my way through the darkness in my room, I collided with an object just by the foot of my bed. ‘s**t!’, I let out a moan as I massaged my pinky toe gently. I am always in the habit of leaving my room in a mess before leaving for work. I groped in the darkness for the switch of my bedside lamp and the darkness disappeared in an instant. The room was wide enough to contain a small bed and an even smaller closet which was just suitable for me as I had very few clothes. I live like a church mouse. It was the best luxury my meager earnings could afford. I made an obvious attempt to make my room look homely. I had Viv, a friend I made at work, help in repainting the walls and mounting a few wallpapers of nude tan-skinned girls on the wall. Ron, my ex, had once made a statement about the pictures making him horny and we had simply laughed over it, kissed, and made out afterward. As expected, my room was a complete mess with a huge pile of dirty clothes heaped on my bed. It completely skipped my mind that I had to do my laundry. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference if I had remembered. Cindy always made sure everyone at the restaurant had their asses worked out. Such a devil! Taking off my shoulder bag, I placed the brown paper bag containing my dinner of sandwiches on my dressing table and began slipping out of my wet clothes. I heard a loud crashing sound just outside my door but I knew better than to open up. It’s Cora, the old lady’s cat who loves snooping around dumpsters and emptying their contents. Or so I thought. I remember one time when she littered my whole waste right at my doorstep. Her mischief has gotten me in one too many troubles with Mr. Brown, the hostile housekeeper. It was getting late into the night and I needed to be in bed so I could be in time for the early train to work the next day. I couldn’t afford another dollar of my salary. Yes, Cindy takes off five dollars from our pay for every single day we come late. How I miss old Bart. Pushing my dirty clothes into the basket in my closet, I laid my bed, slipped into my nightwear, and grabbed my sandwiches which were now stale. I was about to dig into my dinner when I heard a faint knock on my door. ’11:08 pm! What does grumpy old Mr. Brown have to complain about this time that couldn’t wait till morning?’ Sluggishly, I got up from my little dining which had just two chairs and reached for the door. I had barely opened the door when a huge muscular figure on the other end forced the door open and whisked me into my room. No sooner had I processed what was happening than his strong and fierce hands pulled me close to him with a look on his face that begged me to be quiet. His arms were cold and wet from the rain but they made me warm. Our body pressed together with all that wetness triggered an emotion I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I had suddenly lost my voice as I just stood there with this stranger that I was yet to even get a glimpse of what his face looked like. His body was wet from the heavy downpour and drips of water were ruining my carpet. Strange as it seems, I felt safe standing in my dimly lit room with him, his beautiful dark eyes locked in mine. The thuds of approaching footsteps immediately jolted us back to reality. One could tell from the sounds that there are no less than five men outside. I moved my gaze slowly from the door to the strange guy. ‘Really?! First, you barge into my house and now you point a gun at me?’ I said half aloud with a deep scowl on my face. ‘The police cannot know I am here. You either hide me or you know what’s next.’ He replied ignoring my outburst. I was about to fire back when I got interrupted by the knock on the door. He walked briskly to a corner in my closet without getting his eyes off me and his gun aimed so he could have a good range of me in case I decided to rat out. ‘Just one funny move and I’ll put you out of this misery you call a life. Are we clear?’ Raising his eyebrows in a way that showed he needed an answer, I nodded frantically and moved towards the door. ‘Hey ma’am, I am sorry to disturb your peace at this odd hour. I’m Inspector Blokes from the FBI. We have a trial on a murder suspect and word got out to us that he was seen entering this building. So, we’d love to know if you’ve seen anyone that looks like this.’ He said thrusting a picture that was rough from too many hands. The young officer with gray eyes that resembled that of a cat and a brown, thick mustache was probably in his mid-thirties. I ran my fingers over the black and white picture and stared at the face hardened with a grimace. Then I turned and glanced at the corner of my closet where this handsome criminal hid. He still had his gun pointed at me, waiting for me to rat out so he could pull the trigger. ‘Son of a b***h!’ I cursed silently under my breath. ‘Ma’am, are you okay?’ ‘Yes. Sure. I’m perfect.’ Handing over the picture to the police, I added ‘And this guy? No, I have never come across this face before. ‘Are you sure ma’am? You do know the implications of lying to an officer of the law, especially in a top state case such as this.’ ‘Yes, inspector. I am aware,’ came my reply with a little hesitation. ‘Okay then. We would be on our way now. Do call these numbers if you have any information for us concerning this guy. Good night.’ ‘Good night, Officer.’ I replied locking my door hurriedly. ‘Seems like little Miss Tough is scared of having a bullet in her head. Good riddance. For a moment I thought you would rat out. Didn’t occur to me that you loved this shitty life of yours. No offense ma’am,’ he said with a mock bow and wicked laughter that sounded more like a growl. ‘Get out!’ I yelled. ‘Leave my room. The cops are gone now. Not like I care if you get caught.’ He didn’t even as much as bat an eyelid. Looking around my room he walked down to my table, picked up the sandwiches, and began eating voraciously. ‘Yuck! Such eating manners.’ I muttered silently. ‘Who are you? Why are the cops after you? Are you some kind of criminal?’ ‘Easy ma’am. Easy with the questions. Have you no table manners?’ he said in a very strangely calm manner. Like he suddenly became oblivious of all that was happening. ‘Are you one of Barons guys?’ I asked with a sense of curiosity mixed with fear. I could feel the trickles of sweat running down my spine despite the cold weather. But I knew better than to let anyone not to mention this good-looking stranger know I was scared. Mum didn’t raise us to be chickens. Shoving my fear, I let out an outburst. ‘I don’t care who you are or what your story is. But you certainly cannot spend the night here. I’ve done enough by lying to an officer of the law.’ He had finished eating my dinner and stood up to leave without a word which frightened me because of all the options I had laid down in my mind, that was the last thing I had expected to happen. After all, he had a gun. I watched him walk in a strained limp and drops of blood trailed after him. ‘s**t! You’re hurt. You’re losing so much blood.’ I walked to a corner in the kitchen, reached for the kitchen cabinet, and brought down the small gift box Ron had given to me which now served as a First Aid kit. ‘Sit.’ I knelt gently beside him, took his left leg, and carefully cut off the piece of his clothing covering the injury with my scissors. And again, I felt the warmth of his feet. His skin was as tender as a baby’s dipped in different sweet-smelling ointments and skin care. One could tell that he was either a rich kid involved in some sort of dirty dealings like drugs or he was a dirty errand boy of a rich politician. Why else would the cops be after him? He grunted fiercely as I disinfected his injury with alcohol. It was a deep cut on the medial part of his left ankle. The injury looked as though he had been pierced by shrapnel or a spear-like metal. A plague of silence covered the room and was interrupted by the consecutive sound of his breath. I could tell he wondered how I got the knowledge of stitching an injury. ‘My dad used to serve in the military as a medical doctor. Didn’t have time for his kids and family. And then he and mum got divorced. She already found someone else. We had to move down here with mum who was always on her incessant trips around the world with her numerous boyfriends leaving Toby and me to fend for ourselves.’ The hardened look on his face had now become what looked like a sorry face. ‘I’m sorry for being such a bore. Didn’t mean to fill you with tragic stories about my past.’ He didn’t say a word. Was he even listening to me? ‘Such a jerk.’ ‘You’re all set.’ I said wounding the last strap of bandages around his ankle. Now I’d have to sleep without dinner. I felt the anger in me surge gradually. ‘You can stay for the night. I want you gone before I return from work tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to get pulled into whatever mess you’re in. Don’t even think of me as nice. I’m only letting you stay because of your injury.’ My eyes began to grow heavy from the effects of the strenuous activities of the day. I wasn’t even interested in interrogating this stranger anymore. I just wanted to sleep. I have bigger problems to deal with at the restaurant tomorrow. ‘Goodnight Mr. Wanted. I’ve got some pain relief pills on my dressing table. If you’re not so much of a Tarzan, you might want to help yourself with some. They’d do you some good.’ With that, I slumped into my bed and drew the sea-blue duvet over my body. I think he made a chuckling sound or I just heard that in my dreams. ‘Beep Beep Beep!’. It was 6:30 a.m. already. ‘No. I only just went to bed. How is it morning already?’ I could see the darkness slowly fade away to give light to another day. I grumbled lazily rubbing my bleary eyes as I struggled to leave the bed. There he was. All curled up on the floor by my bedside. The loud beeping of my alarm clock didn’t even make him stare. He must have been so stressed out. For a moment, I felt guilt prick my conscience. I should never have left him to sleep on the cold floor. Here’s someone in need of help and possibly all the care in the world and I was hostile to him. In an instant, my thoughts changed. He had the cops looking all over for him. He must have been a criminal. What’s his story? What if he was innocent? Amidst all the belligerent attitude he displayed last night, I could tell that he was caught up in some complicated situations. His emerald, almond-shaped eyes gave him away. They betrayed his fierce look.