Chapter 6

The fog hung solid one night 18 years in my past, May 1929. The mist hung so impenetrable in the night’s air, the haze obscured my father’s new Stutz Bearcat. Running through the fog to the car, I spied my Uncle Frank crawled out of the driver’s seat. The sight was close to comical, his oversized frame uncoiling from the undersized seat. Reaching into the back, he pulled my suitcase out and carried all my possessions into his house as I trotted beside him.

Aunt Marg led me to my room, her husband following behind.

“Here we are, dear. And I do, so, hope you like your bedroom. We’ll adorn the room any way you want, sweetheart.”

“The rooms fine, Aunty.”

Uncle Frank stood in the door. Stepping into the room, glancing around, Frank Lange put the suitcase on my new dresser; swing around, he grinned. The attempted encouragement, at best, produced a weak smile, but a smile, nonetheless. Sitting on the bed, he patted the spread.

I ran and sat down with him.

“It’ll be, okay, baby girl. Well, do the best we can to make this a good home for you,” Aunt Marjorie wandered over and joined us on the bed. Aunt Marjorie sat down, pressed right up against me. “Nothing to fear here, Theo,” Mrs. Lang told me. Putting her arm around me, she hugged me, and I cried.

“You understand I’m not mad you’re here, don’t you?” she said in a soft, feminine, inviting voice. “You know, what I mean, don’t you? Heart-to-heart, Theodora, you can trust? Now, Frank and I are your family. What would you like on the menu tonight.”

“Jeepers, I think hot dogs would be wonderful,” I said between sobs.

Odd, how when you are nowhere, nothing exists for you, where your mind goes.

Sitting bolt upright, I woke this time with a quick start. A far-off remembrance of Uncle Frank and Aunt Marjorie the day I moved in with them. Got to believe Uncle Frank wouldn’t be happy with his baby girl. Always check everywhere before you are sure a room is safe! Words to live by!

Glancing around at the darkness, I found my flashlight grabbing it. I shined the beam on my wrist. Goldarn it, nearly midnight. I retrieved my .45 and made my way to my car. I touched the back of my head. Oh, goodie, not bleeding this time. Geezus, my head buzzed, like Nick Etten just bashed my noggin over the centerfield fence.

Revving up the engine, I dove off. I wanted to go to my apartment and go to sleep. My head screamed at me to rest. This is important, I thought to myself. This building may be where they are. This island isn’t huge, so getting from one place to another doesn’t take long. Unless traffic slows you down. Luck held, rush hour was long over most of the traffic was by foot.

In some areas, cars drove slow, driven by men trolling for working girls, but the streets were close to empty. On Broadway, only a few miles from here, people crowded into theaters, entertained with musicals, dance reviews, or the latest dramas. I hadn’t been to play since the opening of ‘The Glass Menagerie’ in March. Before long, I arrived at my destination.

Two identical yellow roadsters were parked outside the building. Looks like Randolph found her before I did. For sure, I’d have to be careful. I removed the .45 colt from my bag. Removing the clip, I put three more rounds in, replacing those I used earlier in the day. Shoving the magazine back in the gun, I took a spare clip from the glove box and pushed the cold metal into my bra. Oh, my, sweet Lord, how uncomfortable.

Getting out of the car, I checked around. The docks appeared deserted, as were the surrounding streets. Without delay, I moved to the wall of the building. Leaning into the wall, I steadied myself. My head screaming at me while my left leg tingled with twinges running down from my spine. The world keeps on spinning regardless of hurt or damage. The bottom line, best I keep fighting while I can. I’ll give some back to someone of what I have taken. I owe someone a good-ass beating for the distress I endured.

The sound of thunder echoed in the night, only thunder needed lighting, and we had clear skies. No, brothers and sisters, My heart beating at a deafening level. The cool wall imparted to me a perception of safety. I was about to move into a danger zone. The entrance was only ten feet from me. Where in the building would they be? Let those without fear bravely go where angels fear to tread. As for me, I tread with light steps, full of fear and trembling.

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Buy this book at bookappy

The Case of the Rich Man’s Wife

Millie Dynamite

$3.24

If you enjoyed this story, try Vengeance is Mine at Bookapy

Vengeance is Mine

Millie Dynamite

$1.24