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Authors: Erik Schubach

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BOOK: Broken Song
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“So where you staying Penny?  I can call a cab for you after you tell me your story,” she asked.

I thought for a second and actually snorted.  How ironic is this?  I replied in an almost sarcastic tone,  “Well it so happens that I appear to be homeless myself at the moment.  Husband wound up with the home in the divorce.  I've been in a hotel ever since and I flew here because this is where I want it all to end.  Seattle, my real home.”

I took a bite of the colorful cupcake. 
OMG this is good!  What the hell am I doing?  I shouldn't be enjoying this.  I should be floating face down in the lake right now.

She shook her head then stood and started looking at the sides and back of the couch with a scrunched up, thoughtful look on her face as she spoke,  “Nonsense, we are friends now.  You're staying with me until we finish our deal.  You can tell me your story in the morning, right now, you need the rest.”

I was speechless.  We were complete strangers and she was opening her home to a crazy woman who is trying to kill herself.

Then she seemed frustrated. “ I'm so stupid, I can't figure out the bed thingy on this couch.  The lady at the store said it folds out.”  She finished with a shake of her head as she got on her hands and knees looking under the couch.  She seemed genuinely upset that she couldn't figure it out.  How dense is this woman?  Has she never seen a sleeper sofa before?  She was getting frantic.

I placed a hand lightly on her shoulder as I stood up and spoke quietly, “Sandra.”  She calmed down then stood and I removed the cushions and handed them to her.  She stacked them by the coffee table and I grabbed the handle and pulled as the bed hinged out.

She looked almost gleeful.  “You're so smart Penny!”

She jetted off and returned with sheets and blankets and went to work making the bed.  Then I had a random though. 
Wait a minute.  Is she stalling me?
  She didn't want to talk about my story while we walked, she changed the subject somehow here, and I'm now I guess I am staying with her and she wants to postpone our talk until tomorrow.  Then the forty eight hours starts.

She has somehow taken total control of this situation.  I'm not used to this.  I'm always the one in control.  How did this ditsy woman maneuver things so effortlessly?  Does she even realize she is doing it?  I swear there is a hell of a lot more to this woman than you can see on the surface.  And her odd pale looks are fascinating, they remind me of...  of a porcelain doll I guess.  She's sexy in a totally bizarre way.  I tilted my head and admired her figure.

She looked at me and blushed when she caught me staring, “Let me get you a nightshirt.”  She disappeared into another room then popped back out a few seconds later with an oversized tee that had McKay Air Tours on it.  “That's one of my favorites, it is Jane's.”

Then she suddenly looked afraid, like she had forgotten something important.  Then she pulled her cell phone quickly from her purse and dialed someone.  A minute later she was talking quietly as she ground the ball of her right foot into the area rug shyly, tilting her head.  Once again, I found it inordinately cute.  I looked away, aware I was staring at her... again.  “Hi, Jane.  I'm back now.  OK.  Sorry I took so long, I got sidetracked.  OK.  Goodnight.  I love you bunches, too.  Bye.”

She hung up then looked at me sheepishly.  “Jane doesn't like me out walking the dogs after dark.  I told her I was going and I would call her when I got back.  It's one of her rules.”

Isn't this Jane person married to Crystal?  It is obvious that Sandra here has a huge crush on her. Why is Jane giving her rules?  I voiced my confusion, “Why the fuc... umm... why is Jane giving you rules?  You are your own person.”  I don't know why I care, but it is bugging me that someone is telling her what to do.

The little blonde looked at me and studied my face for a moment then her eyes went wide.  “Oh. No.  Jane is just really protective of me.  We have known each other literally our whole lives.  She's like my big sister though I'm really four days older than her.”  She looked proud at that admission.

She continued speaking, “I do lots of stupid things and people take advantage of me, mostly to get my money.  So Jane made some rules for me.  Like to call her if I go out at night and when I get back so that she knows I am safe.  And if I go to the Ballyhoo, I can't go alone.  I know I'm not real smart and some of the girls can trick me into things and take advantage.  But I get lonely sometimes and I'm working on being more aware.  Really I am.”

She looked so... I don't know.  I was getting mad at the thought of anyone taking advantage of this sweet, naive person.  I smiled softly at her.  “I'm sure you are Sandra.”  Wait, why the hell should I care?  I caught myself staring at her and smiling again.

She nodded then pointed down the hall.  “The bathroom is beside my bedroom there.  You get some rest and we can talk in the morning.  I want to hear your story.”

With that she was gone with a flood of puppies following her to her room.

C
hapter 3 – Good Morning

I woke up to the sun streaming in through the living-room window.  I was roasting!  It seems that the dogs decided I was a comfy spot to sleep as I seemed to be covered by them like a thick heated blanket.  The odd looking one was sitting on my chest staring down at me, what was her name?  Daisy? The moment she saw my eyes were open she yipped and started mauling my face with her tongue. This was apparently a call to arms for the four others who were quickly swarming all over me licking my face.  I couldn't help but giggle at their onslaught as I called meekly, “Help?”

I heard a giggle and looked down the hall and Sandra was walking from the bathroom in a robe drying her platinum blonde locks.  “Children behave,” she said in a singsong manner and all the dogs obediently hopped off the couch and swarmed around her feet except Daisy who just sat on my chest looking at me.

Sandra shot me a cute crooked smile.  “Good morning.”

I nodded at her.  Then she walked over to the rabbit cages as she brushed her hair and checked the food and water in each cage.  “We're gonna have to clean your cages tonight you little fuzz balls.”

Then she looked at me.  “You look to be about Jane's size.  I think I still have some of her clothing here that she donated to the shelters that I haven't delivered yet.  Just a minute.”

She went into her bedroom, the dogs followed her, even Daisy who jumped off my chest and ran after them.  Traitor mutt.

I took a moment to really look around the room.  I wouldn't have believed it, judging by the outside of the building, but this small apartment was stunning.  It looked like something out of a high class magazine. It fit in with the way she held herself and her clothing.

The wood floors looked original, aged and with character but resealed and polished perfectly.  The walls were textured and painted in soft earthy tones and the furniture all screamed high end, except a well worn walnut rocker next to a small end table with a reading lamp and a light blanket.  There was a beautiful walnut secretary desk near the window, next to the long table with the cages.

I stood and straightened out the bed covers and folded it back up and set about rearranging the cushions on the couch.  Sandra reappeared with a robe, a towel and some clothing.  She blushed. “Sorry it isn't all rock and roll-y like your other clothes.  We can get you some stuff while we are out today.”  She held the offerings out to me and moved to turn away but her eyes were looking me up and down. They seemed to be taking everything in that is me.  It felt more like she was looking inside me rather than at me.

She paused at my legs with a little smile, then her eyes went wide as she looked away blushing again as she bit her lower lip, making me want to do the same.  I took the offerings.  She almost skipped away toward the kitchen looking down at the dogs.  “Lets get you fed little ones.”  They followed her, wiggling with excitement.

I couldn't help but grin at the sight, then I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. My mind kept drifting to this odd woman that seems to have adopted me.  I shook this out of my head and reminded myself why I came home, I didn't want to feel anymore.  This frigging girl can play all the damn games she wants.  First I'll show her the true nature of the world, the sooner she learns, the sooner she can join us all in reality, then I can finish what I came here to do.

I looked in the bathroom mirror.  God I looked terrible.  My heavy dark makeup had run during the night.  I don't know why I even bother keeping up my punk rocker image, the label doesn't own me anymore.  I'm forty fucking years old not twenty!  I never grew up and have just lived in denial these past few years.

The only thing that helped me keep my sense of self was... God I miss my children.  I fought back the tears yet again.

As I showered I looked down at my chest.  Thinking about what the doctors had said and then silently wept.

I got control of myself and finished my shower and then got ready for the day.  I used the hairdryer in the bathroom to dry out my long black hair.  I have forgotten the real color after the last couple decades of dying it black for the record label.  It was a dark auburn with natural chestnut highlights if I remember right.  I'm sure it would be full of gray streaks by now.

Maybe that's where it had all started falling apart.  Maybe that's when I lost myself.  When the record label sunk their claws into me.

I dressed in the clothing she provided, using my bra and panties from yesterday.  I almost laughed. Looking at myself in a white t-shirt with a lilac tank top over it.  Showing a good amount of my abs. That's one good thing about the label they forced me to stay in shape for my image.  Then the capri style white jeans.

I seriously cannot remember a time when I was not wearing all black.  It was almost like the color was a part of me now, seeping into my soul; to me I looked downright silly in these clothes.  If I were anyone else I'd say I looked trendy, normal, almost cute for a washed up forty year old nothing.  But I'm Penny fucking  Franklin, I'm not normal or cute.  My life hasn't been my own for as long as I can remember.

I walked out to the living room to find Sandra at the desk.  She turned back when the dogs darted off toward me.  Her eyes went wide. “Whoa!  You're gorgeous Penny!  Don't know why you hide it behind all that black and chains and collars and junk.”

I could feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks.  Damn it, she's on my list again.  Nobody makes me blush!  But she looked tantalizing.  I shook the thought out of my head.

I walked up next to her, I caught a trace of her scent and smiled.  She had her checkbook open and a scrap sheet of paper with some long division scribbled on it.  Seriously?  She was dividing twenty one thousand by two and she was writing it all out?  OK.  Maybe I imagined her intelligence last night.

She looked down to the paper I was looking at.  She said quickly, “Just a second, I almost got it.” She looked at the paper with pride when she came up with ten thousand five hundred.  Then she wrote a check in that amount to the Second Street Shelter and a matching one to the Anchorage Avenue Shelter.

She noticed I was still looking at the paper and she explained, “I know I can use a calculator but this helps me with the math.  I've never been really good at it and it confuses me a lot, but I think if I keep practicing, I'll get good at it one day.”

I widened my eyes in disbelief, she couldn't do simple math like that in her head?  Alrighty then. Then I squinted.  “Why are you writing such huge checks to the shelters?”

She looked at me like I was being silly.  “Daddy didn't really want me moving to Seattle.  He knows I'm not real smart and people are always trying to get to my money.   I made some dumb mistakes in the past and people who acted like they liked me got a lot of money from me, so he set it up in a trust for me.   That way I can only access a hundred thousand a month.  So instead of giving the shelters bigger checks, I manage my money so I can help all my people a little at a time.  I divide it up between the shelters, my therapy animals, the children hospitals and community centers each month.”

What the hell?  “You are giving all your money away?”

She looked almost sad that I had asked the question and she responded like she was defending herself, “I'm helping people.  It is the responsibility of the people who can lend a hand to those in need to do just that.  It is only money, and if it can make someone's life just a tiny bit better with it, is there a greater use for it?  I have my two part time jobs that are enough for me to live nicely here near the people who need my help.  My trust has more money in it than I could spend in ten lifetimes, the interest alone is more than the hundred thousand a month I take out of it, I think daddy planned it that way.  So if that money, that I can never hope to spend, can be used to help someone less fortunate than me?  Then why the heck shouldn't I help?”

She seemed to be getting upset.  She really believed in what she was saying, of that I had absolutely no doubt.  I never believed there were really people in this sick and decaying world that put others above themselves.  I felt like crap for upsetting her with my questions.
Wait, didn't I WANT to burst her bubble?
  Not at this moment, not with the determination in her steel grey eyes.  She seemed so... innocent... breakable?  Just now, I had a burning need to protect her.

I nodded and put on a gentle smile curving my lips.  “That is a selfless thing you are doing.  I admire you for that Sandra.”  She blushed and looked down with a prideful smile on her face.  Despite myself, I found myself happy that I made her happy.  I wanted to reach out to her and pull her into a hug.

BOOK: Broken Song
5.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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