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Authors: V.C. Andrews

Runaways (18 page)

BOOK: Runaways
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“Looks like it,” she replied with a half-smile.

When we had cleared the empty tables, we began to set the tables with clean silverware. A young man with red-gold hair complimented Raven on her waitressing abilities and I could tell from her shy smile and quiet “Thank you” that she was flattered.

“Thanks for jumping in,” Patsy said as she hurried by me with an order.

“Should I see if anyone wants seconds on coffee?” I asked her after she shouted another order at the cook. She stared at me a moment.

“You work restaurants before?”

“Yes, ma'am, summers,” I told her.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks.” She went to deliver another order and I followed, offering coffee. Crystal sat astounded and Butterfly looked at us with a beaming smile.

“We could use more help,” I told Crystal. “Raven seems occupied.” The young man had asked for more coffee and was lavishing praise on Raven.
She looked a little uncomfortable but kind of interested at the same time.

Finally, the place began to empty and Patsy was able to catch up on her work. The breakfast rush was over. She gave a man coffee at the counter and then walked over to Crystal and me.

“How come you girls are on the road by yourselves?” Patsy asked.

“We were heading out to California to visit my aunt for two weeks,” Crystal said. “We all go to the same school back in New York and our parents gave us money for the trip. It was supposed to be a summer adventure. Now, we have to turn back,” she said sadly.

“When were you supposed to be in California?” Patsy asked.

“It didn't matter. We could take our time. We had the whole summer,” I added, embellishing Crystal's imaginative concoction. It was funny how I always thought of Crystal as telling creative stories rather than lies. I guess it was because I knew she had no meanness in her, no real deceit. She always looked as if she enjoyed making up the lies as much as she would enjoy making up a story for English class.

“We made the mistake of picking up a girl hitchhiker yesterday and she robbed us,” Crystal continued, mixing the truth with fantasy.

“I see,” Patsy said, shaking her head.

She looked at two of the tables where customers had left tips.

“Some of that money is yours, girls,” she said.

“Oh no. You gave us food. We can't take that,” I said.

She laughed and thought a moment as we watched Raven say good-bye to the young man she had been talking to all this time.

“Well, if your aunt can wait a few more weeks for you, I could use some help here and you can earn enough money to get to California,” she said. “I have a cottage behind the restaurant you four can use. It's not much. You'll have to fix it up some, but I can give you fresh towels and linen. It was once used for travelers,” she added. “Back when my husband was alive.”

“What happened to him?” Crystal asked.

“He was killed in a car crash, drunk driver. You heard mention of my son Danny. He's not much help here, I'm afraid. He's been a handful ever since Eddie was killed. Charlie there has been our cook for over ten years.”

“That's right,” Charlie said, smiling. “You girls were really good out there. Real professional.”

“This was once a pretty busy little place before they built the new highway. In those days we could afford a full staff of waiters and waitresses. I had a counterman, too. I can't pay you much, but you can make some good tips and have free room and board. This is a busy time of the year for me, the busiest,” she added.

“We can do that, can't we, Crystal?”

Raven joined us.

“Do what?”

“Stay here and work a few weeks to earn back the money we lost last night,” I said and hoped Raven wouldn't say anything to contradict our story.

“Really? Oh, that would be great,” she said, looking dreamily out the window. Suddenly she caught herself staring and shook her head. “I don't know what's wrong with me. I think I'll go splash some cold water on my face. I'm feeling hot all of a sudden. This waitressing stuff is harder than I remembered.”

“What's that all about?” Crystal wondered aloud.

Butterfly, who was looking out the window, turned to us. “Who is that man, Patsy?” she asked.

“Taylor Cummings,” Patsy answered with a scowl. “He doesn't miss a pretty face. Tell Raven to be careful—that boy's a wild one,” Patsy advised.

“You don't have to worry about Raven. She looks like a knockout, but she knows enough when someone is giving her a line,” Crystal replied. Usually I would have agreed with her, but suddenly, I wasn't so sure.

“Yeah, but Raven acted different with this guy . . .” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

“Well, then, let's go see how bad the cottage is,” Patsy said. “Charlie, keep an eye on things. I'll be right back.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied and came around from the kitchen.

When we walked out of the restaurant, Raven came hurrying over. We watched her new male friend pull away in his truck.

“Are we staying for sure?” she asked. That was definitely hope I heard in her voice.

“We'll see,” I said, gazing at her closely. “We're going to look at the cottage and then we're going to get ready to do some work,” I added.

Although the cottage was small, it had a bedroom with two single beds and a pull-out sofa that would sleep two. There wasn't much of a kitchen, just a nook with a sink and a small stove. The refrigerator looked broken, the door dangling open. Since we wouldn't be cooking anything anyway, that didn't matter. The bathroom was tiny, too, but it had a small tub and a shower head on a hose that connected to the faucet. There were rust stains around all the drains and rings around the sink and the tub. The
whole place had a musty odor. There were cobwebs in almost every corner and dust coated everything.

“Looks a little worse than I thought,” Patsy muttered.

“It's not so bad,” Raven said quickly. “We can stay here, can't we, Brooke? We'll roll up our sleeves and make it look like a palace in no time.”

“We'll manage,” I agreed. “Crystal?”

“Let's talk about it,” she said.

“Oh, I understand, honey,” Patsy said. “You girls discuss it and come back to the restaurant when you've decided one way or another.”

As soon as she left us, Raven turned on Crystal.

“Why did you say that? This is a chance to stay free,” she cried.

“If we look too anxious, she'll get suspicious,” Crystal said softly. “Why would four girls from homes that could afford to send them to California on a summer trip put up with this?” she asked, her arms out.

“We were just robbed. That's why!” Raven replied.

“Well-to-do people could wire the money to get us home or even to California, Raven. Don't push it.” She studied the scene and thought while Raven waited anxiously.

“I think we could sleep here all right,” Butterfly said.

“Of course we could,” Raven said, eying Crystal. “Didn't we almost sleep in the car the other night?”

“Okay,” Crystal said. “We'll do it. We'll make it seem as if this is all part of an adventure for us, but don't say anything to her that might make her suspicious about us, Raven.”

“I won't say a word,” she promised, her right hand raised.

Crystal nodded and then looked at me.

“Maybe this will work out for us. Maybe our luck is changing,” she said. “Let's decide who takes the pull-out.”

“Butterfly and me,” Raven said quickly.

“Raven snores,” Butterfly complained.

“I do not.”

“I'll sleep on the pull-out with Raven,” I said, eying her. I was determined to get to the bottom of Raven's strange new mood.

The four of us returned to the restaurant to tell Patsy we had decided to take up her offer. When we entered, there was a long-haired boy of about nineteen slumped over a steaming cup of coffee at the counter. He wore a Grateful Dead sweatshirt that looked as if it had died and been resurrected because it was so shredded and faded, and a pair of jeans and dirty sneakers with no socks.

“Here they are,” Patsy said and he turned.

“We'd like to stay, Patsy,” I said.

“Good. This is my son Danny,” she said, her smile stiffening into a look of disapproval.

He squinted, squeezing his hazel eyes into slits, and then smirking rather than smiling at us, as if he was disappointed in either what he saw or what he had heard. He had a soft mouth with a lower lip that appeared swollen, and a small cut on his chin. He had Patsy's nose, a little broader at the bridge, but his ears were larger and came more to a point at the tops.

Danny wasn't fat or physically impressive, but he did have the beginnings of a beer belly. There was no question he wouldn't win any contests, unless it was a contest to choose the least hygienic looking man under twenty-five.

“You could say hello, Danny,” Patsy urged.

“Hello,” he muttered and turned back to his
coffee. “What the hell are they going to do?” he asked her.

“Mostly what you should be doing,” she replied. “Come along, girls, and I'll get you some linen and things to use to clean up the place. Danny, could you pull the boards off the cottage windows, please?”

He grunted.

She shook her head sadly and we followed her to the trailer. The moment she opened the door, she began a string of apologies. Danny had his clothes strewn about, empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and dirty dishes on the kitchen table. She made an attempt to pick up some of it.

“I begged him to clean up before he came out today. He had some of his friends over last night. Late,” she added. She groaned and put her hand on her lower back as she straightened up after getting a beer can off the floor. “Be right back,” she said, going farther into the trailer.

Crystal looked at me and shook her head.

“Why is he so mean to his mother?” Butterfly asked.

“What he needs is a good kick in the rear end,” I mumbled.

Patsy brought us sheets, towels and a pail with cleaning liquids. She gave Raven the mop and some sponges.

“Let me know what else you need. About four, we'll get ready for the dinner crowd. We've been getting a pretty good one lately,” she said. “Well,” she added, “welcome to the Crossroads, girls.”

We were at a crossroad, I thought—a place to catch our breath and decide if we were just fooling ourselves with our dreams or if we were really halfway toward finding a real home.

8

In Sickness and in Health

S
ince both Raven and I had experience working as waitresses, we decided that for the first day or so at least, Crystal and Butterfly would be in charge of cleaning up the cottage. Danny had grudgingly removed the boards from the windows and we realized immediately that we'd need curtains or shades. I improvised using towels so we would have some privacy and keep the sunshine from waking us too early in the morning, although getting ready for the breakfast crowd meant we'd usually be up before the sun anyway.

Raven was the first to grumble about the early hour, though we all wanted to crawl back under our sheets and warm blankets. “It's turning out that we're worse off being free!” she exclaimed.

Crystal started to laugh and then stopped, put on
her schoolteacher face, and told Raven that real freedom meant responsibility, not only for yourself, but often for someone else.

“I know, I know, I just wish we could sleep in a little longer,” she said with a yawn.

Crystal looked at me as if to say, “I tried,” then dropped the subject. Whether we liked it or not, we would be up very early every morning for as long as we stayed.

Charlie was always there before daylight, making fresh pancake batter, grits, oatmeal and coffee. He could make some wonderful omelettes, too; and from what we quickly learned, his reputation as a cook was, along with the attractive prices, what kept Patsy's following consistent and loyal.

“You girls are a breath of fresh air,” he told us. “I ain't seen Patsy this bright and cheery for a long time. Lately,” he added, “she ain't had all that much to make her bright and cheery.”

Hanging around Charlie, you would never know there was any doom and gloom about the place. No matter how busy we got or how flustered one of us became, Charlie was always cheerful and light-hearted. He was easy to work with, patient and friendly. He never lost his temper when one or the other of us would mix up an order, but I did see his eyes grow darker and the smile leave his face whenever Danny appeared. Danny didn't speak to him with any respect either. He always made demands rather than requests and he never thanked Charlie, or anyone for that matter.

That first night we all ate dinner early. I asked Patsy where Danny was. She didn't know and I was sorry I had asked. It brought darkness to her eyes. By the time we were ready to greet our dinner
customers, Danny appeared. He wasn't exactly cleaned up, but he had changed his shirt to a newer, fresher-looking tee shirt with the words
Lions 5, Christians 0
on the front, and a pair of less faded and grubby-looking jeans. He wore the same grungy sneakers and no socks. Some attempt had been made to brush his hair back and he had shaved.

BOOK: Runaways
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