“Okay.” I sit in a free chair.
“Last night the factory was broken into and vandalized. The machines were broken.”
“Which ones?” I clear my throat as the room spins around me.
“All of them, honey,” she says, and her voice is raw. She hates telling me these things. “I’m sorry. We think it may have been some teens from the next town over. There was some graffiti and such… some um, alcohol bottles.”
“Why would these kids do that when chances are the factory employs their parents?” I shake my head, not understanding.
“There’s no logic in evil… or teenagers.”
“Okay.” I scratch my head. “Have Paul order whatever is needed.”
There’s a stack of waiting screenplays my agent wants me to read. I had planned on a brief vacation after this last press tour but rebuilding those machines will cost a pretty penny. I could do a few commercials in Japan for some extra cash.
“I’m sorry about this, honey. It’s bad luck.”
“Right,” I say not believing that for a second.
“It’ll all work itself out. These things always do. Don’t stress. Make sure you’re eating.”
“I just ordered lunch.”
“Okay, good. I’ll let you go. Talk soon. Love you, baby.”
“Love you too.”
My head throbs with this new information. Maggie needs to make the factory the focus. I can’t let this still be going on when I leave the country. Zebulund can wait. He won’t go anywhere, but people’s entire lives are at stake. I’ll tell Maggie tonight.
I tuck my phone away and head out of the deli. I give my food to a homeless man on the corner. My appetite is gone anyway.
* * *
Maggie
“Mrs. Jenkins,”I call, walking into her mudroom announcing myself. The clickity-clack of Pepper’s paws on the wood floors doesn’t greet me. “Hello?” I round the corner into the small kitchen at the back of the house. Not to toot my horn but they are the only people who ever seem excited to see me. I miss my usual fanfare.
The guys from next door, Danny and Russell, are leaning with their ears pressed to the door that separates the kitchen from the sitting area. They shush me as soon as I enter the room.
“What are you doing?” In tandem they wave their hands to quiet me without removing their ears.
“Drama,” I singsong quietly, setting down groceries. I tiptoe over making an excited face.
“Miss Thang has a visitor,” Danny says. Danny always looks like he’s running late with slightly rumpled clothes and his hair a mess.
“Ohhh.” I shimmy my shoulders in excitement.
“I know that voice. I know I do.” Russell’s face is scrunched up in focus. Today he’s wearing a brown suit and a football tie.
“He sounds young.” Danny is scandalized.
“Ah, crap.” My smile deflates.
They both look at me like I stepped on Pepper.
“It’s James Roe.” I wonder if it’s too late to go out the back door.
They gasp. I cross my eyes and stick out my tongue. He’s been calling me incessantly since he helped me out of the bathroom. I’m salty about being saved, to be honest, not that I even needed it. So having shoes and clothes to wear was nice. Okay, and the water with electrolytes did make me feel better lickety-split. Guess that part was nice too.
