Page 8 of Into The Light

Several hours of pacing and getting dressed, then undressed, then dressed again had culminated in my final decision to go. I clasped the black leather strap of my shoe around my ankle and stood up, admiring my outfit in the mirror. I’d been right. The little black heels made the look.

After pulling a brush through my hair one last time, I made a mental note to buy a box of hair dye from Walmart the next time I shopped. My mousey brown color had revealed itself again. A few shades darker with a hint of auburn red was my preferred color, but lately I couldn’t afford to keep it up. Mousey brown and straight would have to do.

A sweep of bronzer, a dab of lip gloss, a bit of mascara and I was set. I was going to... wherever it was. Google Maps showed the address took me to a parking lot. Probably abandoned and covered in tarps where they would chop me up when they finished murdering me.

Several times I thought I should bring someone with me or tell a friend about the meeting. Several times I concluded there was no one to tell. Even my beloved cat, Mittens, had left me a few months ago when old age forced me to kiss his nose one last time and hold him while the vet slipped him the pink stuff. That devastating loss came not long after Jeff had left. Alone hadn’t come close to describing how I felt coming home that night. No husband. No cat. Just me and this stupid apartment I broke myself to pay for and couldn’t sell. The neighbor two doors down had shot his wife and with that tragedy dropped any chance of me getting it sold soon. Every miserable inch of it belonged to me, leaving me stuck here. Alone.

I looked at the clock. Three thirty. If I was doing this, it was time to call an Uber.

Good things didn’t usually happen to me, but I always managed to remain an optimist. And today would be no different. Lifting my chin, I tried to summon my inner strength.

I was going to this meeting and my life would change for the better.

I hoped.

Either that or I would meet a terrible and grisly end.

Okay, so maybe I wasn’t a total optimist.

A few swipes and taps on my phone and the Uber was on its way. Grabbing my Coach purse, another eBay score, I headed down the steps to wait for him on the street. A sleeping homeless man inhabited the familiar little bench I sat on most days. Not liking to be woken myself, I decided not to disturb him. I paced on the street twirling my handbag while staring at the little icon on my phone that showed my driver coming around the corner.

When the grey Ford Taurus pulled up, a bearded man hopped out and ran around to open my door. I took two double takes to confirm it wasn’t the hipster whose beer I’d worn down my dress last night. Same beard, same plaid shirt, same curled hair twisted into a knot at the top of his head. It wasn’t the same man, but they could have been twins. Actually, most of the hipsters in Chicago could have been clones these days.

Confident this was not in fact last night’s bearded man, I hopped into the back of his car. I rattled off the address on the back of the card and watched as he punched it into his GPS. Only ten minutes away based on the estimated arrival time.

“Where are you off to?” he asked, guiding the car down the busy streets.

“Honestly?”

“Only if you feel like it.” He chuckled.

“I’m off to meet two strange men I met at a bar last night. They offered me a job.”

“Oh, yeah? Doing what?”

“I’m not sure. They offered me money and told me to meet them at this address.”

Watching his face in the rear-view mirror, I saw his eyebrows stretch almost up to his hairline.

“I’m not a prostitute. I made that clear to them. No sex and no illegal stuff.”

“I see.” He nodded. “Then what do you think the job involves?”

“I have no idea.”

It was the truth. I really didn’t.

“Wow. Ballsy. Are you worried?”

“Definitely.”

“Do they seem safe?”

“One seems safe. The other is a little intense. You’re probably driving me to my death.”

He didn’t answer, but the horrified look on his face told me he felt mighty uncomfortable right about now.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I will be fine,” I said, trying to convince him and perhaps myself.