Out of Promises (18 page)

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Authors: Simon Leigh

BOOK: Out of Promises
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v

 

Warmth brushed her skin; a sensation rarely felt these days.  She could count on one hand each time this had occurred over the past year, remembering them all, reminding her of a home, happy and without fault.

The kitchen was spotless.  In front of her, a tall fridge made her mouth water, but the money came first.

She crept over to the counter where the money box lay, reaching up for it, her small fingers skimming the smooth side, pushing it further from her reach.  She felt like crying again.  It didn’t matter what she tried, everything from her parents to her own life was slipping from her grasp.

A stool beside the cat’s food bowl looked inviting, so she moved it to the counter, spilling the water bowl in the process.

Sliding it to the counter, she climbed up, smiling as she pulled the heavy money box closer to her.

Jumping down and heading for the cat door, a sharp, excruciating pain took hold of her stomach and she fell in a ball, still keeping hold of the money box.

The fridge was beside her.

She opened it, finding stocks of vegetables and meat along with eggs, butter, and milk.  She went to town, grabbing what she could, barely chewing before swallowing.  The delectable salty taste of the ham made her mouth water.  She just had to have some more, forgetting she was in a strange house.  The food was too much a temptation now and she felt her energy slowly returning.  In her state of euphoria, she knocked over a bottle of milk from the fridge door.

She froze.

Footsteps came racing down the stairs followed by, ‘Who’s there?’

She ignored the milk and scrambled towards the cat flap, money box in hand, pushing it through first and following when a hand grabbed her legs, pulling her back inside, her ribs skimming the bottom of the door.  She kicked and screamed to break free, praying he would just let go, aiming for his face until he let go.

She jumped to her feet and ran back out the way she came with one last bolt of energy.

 

 

 

 

vi

 

Carrying such a heavy box attracted attention – another problem she didn’t want.

She wanted to be alone, finding a quiet corner in a secluded area of an alleyway, finally having the opportunity to examine the box, soon discovering that it was locked.  She could almost scream; all that hard work and risk had amounted to nothing.  The lock itself wasn’t expensive and could easily be broken with a piece of metal to pop the lock off altogether, but that would require a lot of effort on her part.  Instead, she lifted it above her head, smashing it against the wall with what little strength she had left.

Coins fell and notes fluttered in the air.

After catching what notes she could, she picked up the coins.  There was almost a hundred and fifty bucks in her hands.

She smiled.

I want some food.

The food district wasn’t far away and she knew it well, so she headed there.

All kinds of smells hit her senses ranging from American diners to Chinese restaurants.  As she’d never had Chinese food before, she decided on that.

The Golden Palace restaurant and take out looked the most appealing, and cleanest.

Walking in, she was greeted by a friendly atmosphere with Chinese music playing calmly through the speakers and a soft, low light complimenting the warm red walls.

Excited and confident, she walked to the counter where a Chinese lady worked.  She said to her, ‘Can I have some food?’

The lady looked down at her dirty face and torn clothes, curling her top lip. ‘Hello there, what would you like?’ she said with a thick American accent. 

‘I would like, erm.’

‘I’m sorry, but we don’t have any erm.’

Valerie asked, ‘What would you have?’

‘I would have chicken Chow Mein if I was you.  It is tasty and will fill you up.  You look hungry.’

‘I am.  All right,’ she nodded. ‘I want that.’

‘Do you have any money?’

‘Yes.’  Reaching into her pocket, she brought out all the money she had on her, not hiding any of it, some of it falling on the floor.  She picked it up and handed a ten dollar bill to the lady.  ‘Is this enough?’

‘Where did you get so much money?  Is it from a paper round?’ the lady asked, sarcastically.

‘Yes.’

‘Is this money stolen?’

‘No!’

‘If this money is stolen, we cannot accept it.  We have a reputation you know.’

‘It’s not stolen.  Please, I’m so hungry.’  Her hope was fading and she began to cry again; another wall she had to climb over.

‘Please leave.’

‘No!  I want my food.’

People looked over.

‘You have to leave.’

She folded her arms and stood her ground.

The lady picked up the phone and called the owner’s office.

 

There were two phones on the desk: one for calling out and the other for internal use.  With his feet up on the desk, Nicky Nelson sat talking on the one calling out.

‘Yes, Mr Matherson,’ he said.  ‘I will go to the Rising Sun restaurant after this one.  The owner here’s gone to get our money.’

‘Good.  Don’t let them fuck us over, Nicky.  If the money’s not all there, you know what to do.’

The phone on the desk started ringing.

‘Mr Matherson, it may be the owner.  Do you mind if I answer that?’

‘Go ahead, but don’t take any shit.’

Nicky put the phone on the desk and picked up the other.  ‘What?’

‘We have a problem.’

‘What problem?’

‘A little girl is here with some stolen money.’

‘So accept it, money is money.’

‘She is attracting attention from the other customers.  Can you please come and help?’

‘For fuck sake, it’s just a little girl.  Hang on.’  He hung up and swapped phones.

‘Mr Matherson, we have a problem at the front desk.’

‘Deal with it and get back to me.’

 

Valerie was so busy crying she hadn’t realized what was happening.

Nicky walked up to her.  ‘Little girl, you need to leave.’

‘No!  I want my food!’ she demanded.

People passing stared in through the window before awkwardly moving along.

Nicky picked her up, opened the door and threw her outside into the cold like a ragdoll.

In agony, she screamed, holding her painful joints.

A customer from the restaurant and his wife stormed out.  ‘What kind of a place is this?’

The lady at the counter tried to apologize, but they were having none of it.

Valerie lay on the sidewalk for minutes, writhing in pain and crying.  She had never felt pain like this before and it surprised her how much it hurt.

When the initial pain had subsided, she stood up, full of anger, and marched back into the restaurant yelling, ‘I want my chicken Chow Mein!’

Nicky was still there talking heatedly to the lady when he turned to Valerie and said, ‘Piss off, kid,’ opening the door again and dragging her out.

Angrier and more determined than ever, she tried again, this time not getting farther than the door.  It was locked from the inside with Nicky smiling and waving through the glass.

She kicked the glass in the door.

Nothing happened.

The second kick did nothing, but on the third attempt, it cracked.

Nicky walked out.  ‘Little girl, fuck off.’

‘No!  I want chicken Chow Mein!’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her kicking and screaming around to the alley and on to the rear of the restaurant, through the back door and into a storeroom at the rear of the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

vii

 

In his office, the furious owner of The Golden Palace yelled: ‘What kind of protection are you people offering me if a little girl can cause so much trouble?  Customers have left and my reputation is at stake.’

Nicky was with him.  ‘Calm down, it could be worse.’

‘Calm down?  You people are of no use to me.’

‘Put it this way, which is better?  Being our friend, or our enemy?  Believe me, you don’t want the latter.’

‘You don’t scare me, OK?’

Curling his fist, Nicky hit him.  ‘That’s just a taste of what we’ll do to you.’

The owner stayed quiet this time, rubbing his face.

‘Now let us do our job.  Go and get our money.’

Humiliated, he retreated into the restaurant.

Nicky picked up the phone.  ‘Mr Matherson, we have a small problem’

‘What is it?’

‘The door has been almost smashed in and the owner is giving me some shit.’

‘Don’t take it.  Get all the money he owes.’

‘I will do, Mr Matherson.’

‘Who smashed the door?’

‘We have her in the storeroom.’

‘Her?’

‘Yes, I locked her in the downstairs storeroom.  It was all I could think of.’

‘Well take her away from there and make an example of her.’

Nicky paused a beat before daring to say: ‘She’s a little girl.’

‘Are you telling me you can’t handle a little girl?  Can’t you do anything right!?’ he yelled.  ‘Why was she doing that to the door?’

‘She tried buying food and the lady wouldn’t accept her stolen money.  She has quite a lot of it, it seems.’

‘Is she homeless?’

‘I think so, she’s filthy and she stinks.  What shall I do with her?’

‘Bring her to me when you bring the money,’ he said before hanging up.

Nicky let out a long breath, walked downstairs to the storeroom, and opened the door.  Valerie rushed towards him, pushing him out of the way.

Grabbing her clothes, he tossed her back inside.

‘Will you behave yourself?  We are going to see a powerful man.’

‘No! I want my food!’

Nicky closed the door.

From the rice cooker steaming on the counter, he filled a bowl and grabbed a spoon.

Pulling back the door, he showed her the bowl and said, ‘You can eat this on the way.’

With no energy to fight, she surrendered a nod and walked with him outside.

Nicky opened the car door, pushed her in and handed her the rice.  ‘Eat that, and behave yourself.  I don’t want to clean your shit from my back seat.’

He locked her in the car and went inside to meet the owner in the kitchen who was waiting with a thick envelope.

‘Is it all there?’ Nicky asked.

‘Yes, every cent.’

‘Open it,’ he ordered.

It was full of twenty dollar bills, almost two hundred of them: the month’s protection money.  He counted it and walked out without a word and got in the car.

The entire journey back to HQ, he had the window open, relieving himself of the stench Valerie had created.

Eating the rice in silence, she was just thankful for the warm food.

 

 

 

 

viii

 

Nicky pulled her from the back of the car, marching her towards the office building, colossal to her, an isolated monolith erected out of the ground.  It scared her.

The elevator to Matherson’s office was long and seemingly lasted forever.  The walls closed in, trapping her inside, her pores leaking sweat leaving shallow streams of dirt running down her face.  Her heart pounded hard and she just wanted this journey to be over, no matter what awaited at the top.

When the doors did eventually part, she rushed out into the reception area, falling to her knees gasping for air.

Nicky smiled.  ‘Come on, we need to go in here,’ he said, pushing Matherson’s door.

Timid and wary, she peered inside.

Matherson was at his desk with his hands together under his chin.

Nicky pushed her all the way to the front of the desk.

Matherson stood up.  ‘What is your name?’

She didn’t answer him.

‘I’m talking to you,’ he said, loud and vivacious.

She responded in a low, quivering voice, ‘Valerie.’

‘My name is Mr Matherson.  Why did you break that door in the restaurant?’

‘I, I was hungry.’

‘Don’t your parents feed you?’

‘I don’t have any.’

‘Why not?’

She said nothing.

‘How did you get the money to pay for the food?’

‘I took it,’ she said, backing away from him.

‘Took it from where?’

‘From a hotdog man.’

Matherson nodded and asked, ‘Where do you live?’

‘Everywhere.’

He smiled.  ‘Everywhere?’

She nodded.  ‘I don’t have a home.’

‘Do you want a home to live in with nice hot food?’

‘Huh?’

He smiled again.  ‘Do you want a home?  Of course, you will have to work, but you can have hot food when you need it.’

She couldn’t say no.  Thriving for a year as she did had put years on her.

She nodded.

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