Chapter 3

Hollis parked behind the Emporium and together they climbed to the apartment. Annie set down her purse and slipped off her coat and boots. "What do you want to do for dinner?" He asked.

"I don't know. I don't have much of an appetite."

"I have a frozen lasagna."

"Okay..."

"I'll move your bag," he said and picked it up. He noticed something inside and reached for it. "Annie -- where did you get these?" He held up a pack of cigarettes. "You have to be eighteen to buy tobacco."

"A guy at school. He works for the Seven-Eleven. He'll sell them to us ... when no one's watching. We can give him money & he'll bring them to school."

"Do you smoke, Annie? I've never smelled it on you."

"I did a bit. I figure now that I'm sixteen it's time to get with the program."

"Do a lot of the girls at school smoke?"

"Yeah ... some. I've never seen you smoke, Hollis."

"It doesn't mean I don't know how. In fact, an expert -- my dad, instructed me in the fine art of cigarette smoking. I was about your age, too. I think I should give you the same instruction he gave me. That way I'll know you're doing it right."

"Hollie -- I think I'd rather not."

He glowered at her. "Sit!" he commanded. "If you're going to stay here, you're going to have this lesson."

Annie sat on the sofa and looked up at him. "All right, all right."

He obtained an ash tray and a lighter. Then he opened the pack and tapped out two cigarettes. He lit one and drew some smoke from it. "Here." He handed the other one to her and then held the lighter to it.

Annie puffed on it. "Now," he said. "Inhale." She drew on the cigarette and then coughed. "You'll get the hang of it -- big, deep drag. Fill those pristine, young lungs."

She drew deeply on it. "That's it," Hollis coached. Hold it ... hold it ... now exhale. She gasped. "Now, do it again."

Hollis watched and coached as she smoked the cigarette down to the filter. He tapped out another and handed it to her. "Again." She smoked this one down, then a third and a fourth.

He tapped out a fifth and handed it to her. Annie shook her head. "No more. I don't feel well."

"What's wrong?"

"I feel all jittery and ... and my heart feels like it's skipping beats."

Hollis grasped her wrist and felt her pulse. "Yeah -- you've got some extra beats in there. Stretch out on the sofa and rest 'til the effects pass. I'm going to open some windows. It's blue in here.

He returned to her side after turning on the hood fan in the kitchen. "How are you doing?"

"Still feel awful ... my stomach's upset ... might be sick."

He carried a plastic wastebasket to her side. "In case you need it. Do you know why you're feeling poorly?"

"The cigarettes," she replied.

"The nicotine. It's a poison, Annie, and a drug. It's the third most addictive recreational chemical, and it's the most stubborn addiction to break. Why would you want to do that to yourself?"

"I don't know..."

"My dad found a pack of cigarettes in my room and he gave me the same lesson. I think I got through number five before throwing in the towel. Of course, those were unfiltered Chesterfields, not these wimpy Newports. I'm not sure that brand is around any more. I was so sick -- I barfed for twenty minutes."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky. I am feeling a bit better now. My heart is settling down. That scared me, Hollie."

"It's a nasty habit, Annie, and an expensive one. You'll thank me for this, one day ... just like I thank my dad."

She took the pack from the table, emptied it into the waste basket and then balled up and tossed in the wrapper. "Happy?"

"You'll stay away from them?"

"I will."

"Then, I'm happy. We'll both need showers before bed tonight."

She smiled. "I guess we will. Hollie?"

"What, Annie?"

"If Maude had given me the same lecture, my response would've been, whatever. Do you know the difference?

"What's that?"

"With her, it's, do as I say. With you, it's do as I do."

Hollis squeezed her hand. "It's how I live my life. I'll put the lasagna in the oven. By the time it's done, you should be back to normal."

He returned to her side. Annie was stretched out on the sofa with her arms above her head. Hollis picked up her bag and began rifling through it. "Hey," she said, "what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for more contraband ... pills or the such."

"You won't find anything."

He held up a cellophane-wrapped condom. "Ah-ha!"

She made a petulant sigh. "They pass those out at school."

"Really?"

"Really. In our health class. I forgot I had one in there."

"Two in here," he said holding up a second. "You're sure you're not fooling around?"

"No, Hollie -- I am NOT foolin' around." She sighed. "I'm a virgin, okay?"

"Really?"

"Really." She sat up. "I'm feeling better, now ... my throat's still raw, though. How long for dinner?"

"An hour or so."

"Maybe I'll make some salad to go with it. Would you like some salad, Hollie?"

"I'd love some."

Hollis sat behind the counter, reading the latest number of The Journal of Biochemistry. The bell on the back of the front door announced a customer. He looked up and saw a young man saunter in. He held his head cocked to the side and he narrowed his eyes. "You George Hollis?"

"Hollis George," he replied.

"Where's Annie?"

"Who are you to ask?" Hollis replied.

"She needs to come home," his visitor said.

"Who says so?"

"I say so."

"We seem to be having a circular conversation. Who are you?"

"I'm her brother."

"She doesn't have a brother," Hollis replied. "I know her mother and I know she's an only child."

"I'm her foster brother."

Hollis nodded. "I must be enjoying the company of Mister Joey Butterfield," he replied. "I've heard of you. Annie is not going home with you. She lives here now."

"My mother is her legal guardian."

"Actually, the state is her legal guardian," Hollis retorted. "Your mother has given her blessing to Annie living here. I think you should leave before I find myself calling the authorities."

"Yeah? We'll see about this." He turned and left.

Hollis propped his elbow on the counter and held his forehead. "Oh, brother," he muttered.

Annie stepped into the shop. "Hi, Hollie," she said.

"I'm glad to see you," he replied. "I had a visit today from Joey Butterfield."

"Joey?" Annie sat in the velvet chair. "What did he want?"

"You."

"What would he want me for?"

"What do you think?"

"He's not having me for that!"

"I don't think that's it," Hollis replied. "I'll bet Maude has been discharged. She's going to need a lot of care."

"She's not my mother," Annie replied. "I really don't feel any obligation to her."

"Nor do I think you owe her any. Watch your back if Joey's out hunting for you."

She nodded. "Thanks."

The jingle of the bells on the front door announced another visitor. Hollis came down from the second level and saw a man in a leather jacket. "Hollis George?"

"Yes?"

He handed Hollis a card that read Lawrence Baker. "I'm Larry Baker from CPS."

"CPS?"

"Child Protective Services. We have received a report that you're holding a minor against her will."

"A report from whom? One Joey Butterfield, perhaps?"

"I'm not at liberty to reveal who made the complaint."

"Ah. I see. Whatever happened to the right to confront one's accuser?"

"You'd get that opportunity if the report pans out," Baker replied. "We're looking for Annie Sheffield."

"She's at school. And, she is not being held against her will. It is in fact her will to live here."

"According to our records, she was placed in the care of Maude Butterfield."

"Maude is in no condition to care for Annie or anyone. She can barely care for herself. I believe that her son Joey came up with the idea of recruiting Annie to be a scullery maid or a caregiver. I don't believe Annie owes them anything -- not the way she's been treated. She told me the whole time she was in Maude's foster care, she did not celebrate a single birthday. Maude's idea of clothes shopping was a trip to the Goodwill thrift store. Maude provided her with room and board and little else, and collected a stipend from the state for her trouble. On top of that, Annie told me that Joey attempted to rape her -- not once but twice and both times she fended him off. She says she wouldn't feel safe in the same house with him."

"Hmm ... That does add a dimension to this."

"Annie will be along from school any moment now, if you'd like to have a word with her."

"I think I would like that."

"You'll find her to be a remarkably poised young woman -- especially after what she's been through. Please, have a seat." Hollis gestured toward the velvet easy chair.

Hollis returned to his perch behind the counter. The front door opened and Annie breezed in. "Hi, Hollie," she said.

"Annie -- this is Larry Baker from Child Protective Services. He'd like a word with you."

"In private," the agent said.

"Go to the other end of the barn," Hollis replied. "There's no way I can overhear you." He sat on his stool and began reading his journal.

Baker approached him with Annie by his side. "She has corroborated what you said, Mr George. And, she told me she believes her association with you has salvaged her from becoming a delinquent."

"Is there anything else, Mr Baker?" Hollis asked.

"In a case like this we would like to see the child's ... young woman's living conditions. If we could arrange to visit your home..."

"Let's take a walk upstairs," Hollis replied. He led them to the sleigh bed in its alcove. "This is where she sleeps."

"She sleeps in a store display?"

"I asked to sleep here," Annie retorted. "I LOVE that bed."

"She only sleeps in it when the store is closed. There isn't a spare room in my apartment."

"Where's your apartment?"

"Downstairs."

"Can we see it?"

"This way." Hollis led them down the stairs. "Bathroom with shower ... kitchen. These are my quarters. She's under the same roof."

"Okay, I think I've seen enough." The agent headed toward the front door. He stopped to write notes in a spiral-bound steno pad. "Her arrangements are a bit unconventional, but she seems to be thriving in them."

"She's sixteen," Hollis remarked. "She'll be seventeen in November. I believe she's fully capable of living on her own -- except she lacks an income. Here she finds a roof over her head and three squares ... and somebody who cares for her."

"I'm recommending no action. I'll have a word with the Butterfields." He closed his notebook and slipped into his jacket's inside pocket. "I'll tell you what I'll tell them -- attempting to use this office by filing false or misleading reports is something that can have consequences. Filing a false police report is a crime."

"You don't need to worry about us," Hollis replied.

"Understood. If you'd be interested in qualifying as a foster parent for Annie..."

"I don't want Hollis as a foster dad," Annie protested. "I want him as my friend."

"I was a friend of her mother," Hollis added. "I don't need any stipends from the state. I'd prefer to keep her here on an informal basis."

"Personally I don't see any reason not to do just that. We prefer the kids be placed with someone connected to the family. If any issues come up, feel free to contact me."

"I will be sure to do that," Hollis replied. "Thank you."

"Very good then. Unless you hear otherwise from us, we consider the case closed." He headed for the door. "Good day."

Hollis watched Baker leave the building. "The nerve Joey has," Annie remarked, "thinking he could get CPS to act as his private goons."

"He didn't say that Joey initiated this."

"You know it was," she replied. "Who else could it be?"

"Good night," Hollis said. He kissed Annie's forehead.

"Good night. You know -- I like it that you tuck me in every night. It makes me feel cared for -- like a little girl."

"You are a precious girl."

"You make my cares melt away ... for a little while at least."

"You missed out on a lot of growing up. You were short-changed. I can't believe how well you turned out."

"I was on the brink, Hollie. You pulled me back from it."

"I think you give me too much credit."

"Do you know what else I like?" she asked.

"What?"

"That you don't treat me like some kid. You treat me like an equal."

"You don't behave like a kid ... when you're here, at least. I don't know how you behave when you're with your friends." He kissed her forehead again. "Sleep tight, princess." Before he could straighten she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him.

"I love you, Hollie," she said.

"I love you, too, Annie."

"I think you and I are kindred spirits."

"I think we must be. Good night."

Hollis headed back to the apartment, switching off the main lights on his way. He stripped to his boxers and crawled into bed. Outside he heard the usual sounds of the night -- vehicular traffic ... a dog barking in the distance ... voices of pedestrians and the sound of a bottle breaking.

Sleep was almost upon him when he heard the bleating blast of the air horn he had given Annie. His heart jumped. Hollis threw back the covers and pulled on his robe. From his dresser he removed a small-calibre revolver and crept up the stairs.

He heard cries and the sounds of a struggle. Joey had Annie in a headlock and was pulling her hair. Hollis pressed the revolver's muzzle to Joey's temple and pulled back the hammer with his thumb, cocking it loudly. "Freeze. Let go of her. Annie -- call 911. Use the cell I gave you."

"Hey, wait," Joey protested.

"You make one false move, you say one false thing -- you do anything at all and I'm gonna blow your head off. It'll be your word against mine. But you'll be dead so it'll just be my word. Don't think I won't do it -- punk."

"It says, no service," Annie said, holding up the phone.

"No signal or no service?"

"No service."

"Press 911," Hollis replied.

"It's ringing." She handed the phone to him.

"We have an intruder ... the Emporium. 123 Crest Street. Second floor ... thanks. Annie -- go downstairs and wait for them."

"This is a misunderstanding," Joey sputtered. "Just let me go and there won't be any trouble." Hollis continued peering down the barrel of the revolver as he pointed it at Joey's face. He could hear sirens in the distance and approaching. "C'mon -- I gotta take care of my mom!"

"You should've thought of that earlier."