With Cruel Intent (12 page)

or something like that, never really

clarified what he was doing here, always

changed the subject when asked directly.

Seems more weird now than it did at the

time," said Mrs. Muir.

Blanche joined the group and

covered her plate with one biscuit, no

gravy, a round of sausage and a cup of

fruit. Everyone at the table watched as she

readied her breakfast before continuing.

"Looks like you had a rough night

sweetie," her landlady perceived. "Wasn't

our newlyweds was it?"

"No, just too much on my mind,

had a hard time getting to sleep," Blanche

informed her breakfast companions.

For the next few minutes everyone

sat in silence and concentrated on

finishing their meal. Blanche was trying to

remember what she'd done with the list of

condos she'd prepared the afternoon

before at the local Internet cafe, when she

heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Good morning everyone,” came a

voice from behind her. It sounded

somewhat familiar and then it dawned on

her. It was the voice she’d heard coming

through the wall the past few days. She

pivoted in her chair to get a better view of

the young couple. They appeared a little

different this time around, less shock and

surprise on their faces and much less skin

showing.

The young bride was even more

attractive than Blanche remembered her

from the bathroom incident, her black hair

framing her face and accentuating her

cheekbones and full lips. She was petite

but curvy in all the right places and her

behind, though very round, looked like you

could bounce quarters off of it. Blanche

watched her wiggle her bottom around the

table and into a chair opposing her own.

Her husband was stout and looked like he

could pick his wife up with one arm and

pack their entire luggage with the other.

Not really attractive from Blanche’s

perspective but he was fit with a manly,

commanding voice.

Hellos

were

exchanged

and

introductions made for those that hadn’t

had the pleasure. Blanche tried not to meet

their eyes, just too embarrassed, knowing

what she did about their ‘activities’. As

irritated as she was with them, and the

impact they had on her sleep the past few

days, she had to admit that they looked

extremely happy and excited about starting

their life together. She was more than a

little jealous, the easy smiles back and

forth, the hands on the knees under the

table, the knowing looks exchanged even

with all these people in the room. Ever the

hopeless romantic, it still was driving

Blanche crazy that they had each other and

she had nothing but her books and her

dreams of ‘
Mandingo
’.

Mrs. Muir was the only one brave

enough to put forth a challenging question,

“So, you two just look so happy. You must

be having a great time. What do you think

of our little town?”

The young wife just about choked

on her sausage but managed to say,

looking down into her lap, blushing

slightly with her response, “Well, to tell

you the truth, we really haven’t seen much

of your beautiful little city but we are still

finding things to do and we’re having a

great time.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,”

thought Blanche, sarcastically rolling her

eyes and hoping that nobody noticed.

Caroline, wanting to clarify their

reservation, jumped in, “Have you

decided how much longer you’ll be

staying?”

The husband took a drink of his

juice before answering, “Looks like we’ll

need to get going later today. We’re so

close to the Okefenokee Swamp that we

decided to head over to Waycross and see

what’s going on over there, but we have

enjoyed our stay with ya’ll.”

“I don’t think there’s any question

of that,” Blanche almost said aloud, but

what did come out of her mouth was most

likely worse, “Yes, young love can be so

exciting, learning all the ins and outs can

be trying but worth the sacrifice, if you

know what I mean.”

With nothing further to say and no

retort from the guests, Blanche excused

herself and left for her room. As an

afterthought she said, while climbing the

staircase, “By the way, really enjoyed

sharing the bathroom and the ambiance

with you.”

Her meeting with Beverly was to

be at 10:00 a.m. so she tidied up her room

and spent a few more minutes looking

over the list of condos she wanted to look

at that day. When she’d talked with Bev

earlier in the week the house hunting

didn’t sound very promising. There were

a lot available but nothing that really fit

her needs or budget. She had to remind

herself that she was still early in the hunt

and not to get discouraged, surely

something would come along that would

be well suited for her. The trick was not

to get too impatient and settle for

something less than desirable. The units

that Mrs. Carmichael had mentioned to her

looked promising but there wouldn’t be

enough time today to drive out to look at

them hopefully next week.

With her room in order and

nothing else to do for a couple of hours

she lay back on the bed and picked up her

book. Before long she was back in the

‘Old South’, the words on the page going

in and out of focus, she placed the book

upon her abdomen, closed her eyes and

drifted off to sleep.

She awoke with a jolt, her eyes

searched for the clock and the time

alarmed her, 9:45 a.m. in bright red,

illuminated numbers. Blanche scrambled

to get the few things together that she

needed for the day, checked her looks

quickly in the mirror, adjusted herself in

her bra, and dashed from the room, down

the stairs and out the front door, nearly

knocking Mrs. Muir over in the process.

“Well, I never!” she exclaimed,

looking on as Blanche ran down the street

toward the bus.

The stop was about two blocks

from the B&B, normally a pleasant,

peaceful

walk

along

azalea-fronted

homes, but not today. She could see the

bus moving down the street. Lifting her

feet a little more quickly she raced for the

stop, waving her hands and trying to grab

the attention of the driver in hopes that he

would wait for her, but it was to no avail.

She arrived at the bench in time to see the

bus turn the next corner and it was gone.

“Just frickin’ great!” she said,

slamming her things down on the bench

and placing her hands on her hips, walking

in circles trying to catch her breath.

Rifling through her purse she retrieved her

cell phone and placed a call to Beverly at

her office. Ring, ring, ring..., no answer.

“What else is going to go wrong

today!”

She tried Bev’s cell number,

“Hello Ms. Davis, this is Blanche, I have

an appointment with you right now but

I’ve missed my bus. Would it be possible

to reschedule?”

“Don’t be silly, where are you?

I’ll just come by and pick you up,” Bev

enthusiastically belted into the phone.

Blanche gave her the approximate

address and the realtor indicated she’d be

there shortly.

“That was one crazy run for the

bus there lady,” a young man half

hollered, followed by a different voice.

“Yeah, would sure like to see

some

of

that

action

again.

You

interested?”

Blanche lifted her umbrella in case

she needed a weapon and turned to

confront the verbal assailants. Three

young men in their late teens were walking

toward her, skateboards in hands. Each

had a different baseball hat sitting askew

on their head with dark glasses covering

their wandering eyes. Jeans worn very

low, crotch between their knees and skater

type shoes on their feet.

The presumed leader spoke, “Yo,

mama, you's lookin’ so fine dis moanin’.

You need some hep with somethin’? We’s

sure we got what ya could use.”

Looking at each other they laughed

and shook each other’s hands in some

secret combination. The creepy young guy

strutted closer to Blanche, looking her up

and down. A tattoo curled from the inside

of his t-shirt, up and around his neck and

terminated in a snake’s head on his

Adam's apple.

“Listen, why don’t you boys just

mind your own business and be on your

way?” the increasingly frightened Blanche

said, through clenched teeth.

“How ‘bout you come wit us then,

bootiful.”

They circled her, cutting off any

possibility of escape except it be through

them. She lowered the umbrella and

issued another warning, “I don’t want any

trouble, I’m just trying to get through my

day, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just leave

me alone.”

More laughter, “Yeah, Mikey,

leave the poor little woman alone,” they

taunted.

“I’ll leave her ‘lone aw ight once

she takes care a sum buidness fer me.”

Mikey extended his arm and ran his hand

over her shoulder.

Reflexively, Blanche spun the

umbrella, knocking his hand away and

swung the object in a circle pushing the

teens beyond an arm's reach.

“Grab dis bitch so I’s can get a

feel,” the startled leader yelled. As the

two accomplices circled Blanche looking

for an opening their attention was drawn

to the road.

The sounds of squealing tires and

locked up brakes startled the group who

turned in the direction of the incoming

sounds. A yellow Datsun could be seen on

the opposite side of the road making a

quick turn, jumping the meridian; a dark

figure huddled over the wheel.

“What’s this sheeeit?” Mikey said,

stepping ahead of the others, bringing his

skateboard up in a defensive stance.

The little truck came to a

screeching halt, only meters away from the

skaters, and a very large, agitated black

man squeezed his way out of the truck.

He took two quick steps toward

Mikey, puffed up his chest and said, “Miss

Delaney, these punks giving ya any

trouble?”

Blanche quickly sidestepped the

trio and ran behind Jasper. “Rescuing me

again? I must say you have impeccable

timing.”

Mikey

was

not

discouraged,

“Lady, yo pet gorilla don’t scare us none,

do he boys?” There was no reply, “Right

boys?”

He turned to see why his partners

were quiet and could only make out the

back of their hats as they bounded over the

fence of the nearest house. With his head

turned, Jasper moved to action, grabbed

the skateboard with both hands, wrenching

it away from the thug, dropping Mikey to

his knees in the process.

“Man, we was jus havin' some fun

wit her, we wasn’t goin’ to hurt her or

nothin’,” he pleaded.

“You little creeps are giving

Valdosta a bad rep, how ‘bout you get on

your way ‘fore I do something terrible,”

Jasper hissed, arms and shoulders

towering over the quaking Mikey.

“Gimme back my board, man.”

“Oh yeah, right!” Jasper took the

skateboard with his hands positioned at

opposite ends and extended the board as if

to hand it to the troubled youth. Mikey

stretched forth his hands to accept the

board, but before he could, Jasper lifted

his powerful leg and brought the board

down with a mighty thrust, breaking the

board in half across his thigh. Splinters

and wheels twirled through the air.

“There you go (handing the board

back to Mikey), now get out of here you

scumbag.”

The hood took a couple steps