To be Maria (33 page)

            "Hitch hiking on the side of the road. No, I can't see Anya doing that. She ran away from me, so she wouldn't risk standing on the side of the highway."

            The reality of the situation starts to sink in, hitting him as hard as a pile of bricks. "The devious little bitch," he screams, kicking over her nightstand. The old stereo, along with the small picture frame of Anya's mother, flies off the nightstand. They land hard, breaking apart when they come in contact with the floor. He then storms out of the room, Terri following close behind. In the living room, Alex kicks over the couch. He picks up an empty beer bottle, then hurls it at the wall behind the television set. It shatters into numerous shards of glass the moment it strikes the wall.

            "She left on a bus, Terri! She's probably gone by now and we don't know where she went to," Alex screams. He kicks the television with all his might, cracking the screen severely and sending it flying into the wall where he had thrown the beer bottle.

            Terri stares at him, his mouth formed into a vengeful smile. He’s enjoying this, Alex can tell.

            "Or not. Buses don't leave the Greyhound station every minute of the day. She could be there, waiting for a bus right now as we speak."

            Alex stares at him through narrowed eyes. "You're right. Let's get her before it does arrive."

            At the Greyhound station, Anya pays the driver, then makes her way over to the entrance doors. She can see a few people lingering inside the lobby. That’s when she realizes that the only things she has are Maria's wallet, a stick of deodorant and a hair brush. All of these people have one or two pieces of luggage and she has almost nothing.
All of my good clothes are in Alex's apartment suite.
She takes one good look at her surroundings.
If I go back, I won't get out alive.
She holds in her breath while she steps through the doors.

            A middle-aged woman with long, jet black hair surveys Anya coldly as she approaches. Her heartbeat starts to quicken.
I'm safe. Finally. But where am I gonna go? I can't go to Vancouver. I can't even stay in this province. I have to go far enough away where Alex and Adrik won’t find me.

            "What do you want?" the lady behind the counter says.

            "I want to purchase a one-way ticket to Toronto," Anya says on impulse.

            The lady gives her a skeptical look. "Running away from home?"

            Anya opens Maria's wallet.
No. I'm running away from a drug dealer. And besides, you're supposed to help me, not judge me.

           
The woman shoots Anya a curt look. "A bus leaves for Calgary at ten pm. In Calgary, you will need to transfer onto another bus. There will be a two hour layover before the next bus leaves for Toronto."

           
Ten 'o' clock?
"What time is it now?"

            The lady studies her wrist watch. "It's quarter past six."

            Fear grips Anya's stomach.
That's hours away. Alex could find me in that time.
"Is there a bus that leaves sooner?"         

            The woman gives her an annoyed look. "Yes. You just missed it. That'll be one-hundred-and-ninety dollars."

            Anya hands her the money, grabs her change and ticket, then crosses over to the restroom. She sets her weary body down beside the toilet once inside the second stall. She undoes the zipper of her left coat pocket, shoves her ticket, spare change and wallet inside. Slowly, she fastens the zipper.

            She leans her head against the wall of the stall. Maria and Patrick enter her mind. The moment Anya shuts her eyes, she sees Maria. The frightened look on her face is as vivid as the moment Anya saw that expression just hours ago. Then, an image of Maria's lifeless, blood soaked body replaces the previous image. It fades quickly, then Patrick appears before her eyes. He stares at her, his eyes filling up with tears while she says goodbye to him. Anya begins to sob uncontrollably. She is all alone, worse off than she was before she met Maria. She misses them both so much, the pain of it is crushing. She would give anything to have them by her side; she longs for Patrick's embrace, to hear his beautiful singing voice, and she wants to hang out with Maria.

****

            Alex and Terri enter the Greyhound station just as the hand of the clock on Alex's wrist watch strikes six thirty. The lady from behind the counter eyes them skeptically as they approach.

            "Catching a bus?" she says once they are face to face.

            "No," Alex says, keeping his voice low.

            "Then, what are you here for?"

            The brusqueness in her voice fuels the anger inside of him. He wants to yell and swear at her, but there are other people in the lobby. The last thing Alex wants is for someone to call the cops on them, so he swallows his temper. "I'm looking for a girl by the name of Anya Preschnikov."

            The woman crumples her eyebrows.

            "She's short, thin, has long, brown hair, and wears a brace around her neck."

            The woman's face lights up. "Oh, her. Yes. She bought a ticket not long ago."

            Alex exchanges looks with Terri.
Good call in coming here
, he almost says.

            "Where is she going?"

            She frowns at Alex. "That's not information I can disclose to you."

            Alex clenches his teeth. Twice, he rakes his fingers through his hair.
Don't lose it, Alex. You already lost it enough today. Once more, and you'll end up in jail.
"Well, can you at least tell me if Anya has left yet?"

            The frown on her face deepens. "No. I'm not in any position to disclose this information to you. I could be fired if I do, so please leave."

            Alex averts his eyes away from her.
Think quick, Alex.
"But I really need to see her. I care for her and…I think she's in trouble and I need to find her before it's too late."

            The lady narrows her eyes at him. "What part of
no
don't you understand?"

            Alex groans.

            "Now, can you leave and let me get on with my work?"        

            "Fine!"
Try all you want, bitch. You're not gonna stop me from finding her.

            Since no one else is standing in line to purchase a ticket, the woman shifts her attention elsewhere. As soon as she turns her back to them, Alex and Terri sneak over to the woman's washroom, trying to be as discrete as possible. Just outside the door, he turns to Terri and whispers, "I know she's in here because she's not in the lobby, and she wouldn't wander away from the station."

            Terri nods his head in agreement.

****

            Anya's thought process is brusquely interrupted when men's voices fill the air. Terror fills her entire body when she recognizes that one of those voices belongs to Alex. She climbs on top of the toilet, being careful not to make any noise.

            "Anya, we know you're in here," she can hear him say.

            Her heart pounds against her chest and her eyes fill up with tears.
They found me. It's too late. I'm done for!

            "Anya, can you please come out?" Alex says. His voice is much softer, but it does nothing to ease her fear.

            "Anya, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna to talk to you."

            Her legs begin to ache, but she ignores the pain and forces herself to remain frozen in her tableau.
Talk to me about what? And why would I trust that you won't hurt me?

           
"Can you please come out?"

            This time, she can detect a hint of annoyance in his voice. Her heart leaps into her throat when she hears him knocking on the door of the stall where she’s hiding.

            "Come on, Anya." The knocking on the door becomes louder.

            Sweat breaks out all over her trembling body.

            "Every other stall is unoccupied, so we know you're in here." The door shakes violently with each knock.

            The tears spill down her face.

            "Hey! What are you two doing in here," an older man yells.

            Anya sucks in her breath.
Thank you. Oh, thank you. Now please make them leave.

            "We're looking for someone. She's in here and I really need her," Anya can hear Alex say.

            "Can't you read the label? This is a woman's washroom. You have no business in here."

            "But it's an emergency," Alex says, his voice insistent.

            "Listen, punk. I don't care what kind of an emergency you're in. You don't barge into a women's restroom and invade your lady's privacy. You can talk to her when she gets out. I doubt she'll take long to finish whatever she's doing."

            Anya's heart flutters.
No!

           
"Please sir, I'm her boyfriend," Alex says, his voice pleading.

            "Some boyfriend you are to invade your lady's privacy. Leave her to do her thing."

            Anya's head starts to spin.
No! No! No!

           
"But she's sick, you see. We're worried that she might be unconscious," Alex's friend says.

            Anya does not recognize that voice.

            "If that was the case, a lady wouldn't have reported this situation to me. If anyone thought your girlfriend was sick, we would have checked up on her several minutes ago," the older man says.

            "But I really need to talk to her," Alex says.

            "Get out! Both of you, before I call the police."

            Anya exhales her breath slowly.
Thank you!

            "Okay, we're leaving," Alex says, sounding defeated.

            "If I see either of you anywhere near this building, I'll call the police."

            "You don't need to because we're leaving right now," Alex says in one breath.

            Anya has the urge to run out and hug her savior, but she forces herself to remain perched on top of the toilet. After what feels like hours of waiting, she emerges slowly from behind the stall, then tip toes over to the door. As she reaches her hand out to open it, her heart begins to flutter. She breathes in and out deeply
. It's okay. Alex is gone. He won't get you. The security guard made sure of that.

            The moment she steps into the lobby, she finds herself face to face with the man who saved her life: he is tall and husky, but his grey eyes are soft and unassuming.

            "That was quite an ordeal you went through. Are you okay, young lady?"

            "Yes, I-I'm fine," she says in a weak voice.

            "I just want to let you know that you're safe now. Your boyfriend won't come around while I'm here."

            Her eyebrows snap up. "He's not my boyfriend."

            He looks at her, appalled by her clipped response. "Then, how does he know you?"

            Tears well up in the corner of Anya’s eyes.
I can't tell him what really happened.
"We met at a party."
He also met Maria and because of him, she's now dead.
"We were just friends."

            "Can I give you a small word of advice?" he says, laying a hand on her shoulder.

            She does not shrink away from his hold.

            "Choose your friends carefully. They can either make you or break you."

            Anya gulps. She is at a complete loss of words. His words should mean everything to her, especially after what she has endured, but she is in so much emotional pain that it blocks her ability to listen to wisdom. She simply nods her head and walks over to the sitting area where other people are waiting for their bus to arrive.

Six days later…

When Anya opens her eyes, she shifts her head to look out the window. All she can see is rows of buildings, tall snow banks and people talking on cell phones while they hurry down the street. She notices that, unlike her, all of them are clad in expensive clothing of a professional style: long coats over business suits complemented with thoroughly polished boots. Her new surroundings instantly erase the thought of Alex, Maria and Patrick from her mind. But they don’t rid the nausea Anya is feeling. Since the bus left Peach Valley, she had gotten little sleep. Not only was Anya uncomfortable, she couldn’t help but wonder how the heck she’s going to make it in Toronto on her own. She doesn’t know a soul and she won’t be able to find her way around. Anya had tried to talk to some of the other passengers, but she didn’t get very far. Everyone was in their own world, preoccupied with themselves or with other things, so Anya eventually gave up and retreated into herself.