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Crossing the street, I see the bus shelter up ahead, but a car pulls up right beside me.
“Oh, thank god, I was…” I start, grateful that Tom has arrived. But it isn’t his car.
“Need a ride, Red?” Max, my photographer friend, yells from the driver's seat.
“Oh, I have a car coming,” I say, not wanting to put him out.
“I think we are probably both going the same way, and those shoes don’t look like they are very comfy?”
As he says it, my feet pinch even more, the throbbing already having me at breaking point.
“Well, if you are sure you don’t mind?” I say as I tentatively walk toward the car door.
“No problem. Get in. All the roads are blocked off within a few hundred yards of the community center, so traffic is a nightmare!” Max exclaims as I sit in his car and put on my seatbelt. I have never felt more relieved to be off my feet, and I sigh as the pain starts to subside.
As Max concentrates on the road, I look around his car. It is small and dirty. Takeout containers fill the floor behind me. But what is odd is the big designer bags in the back seat. One branded bag housing a box of shoes that look like they are the expensive red soles everyone loves, the other Prada, Harrison’s favorite brand. It makes no sense, since the car is old, rusted in spots, but I try not to judge or think too hard about it. I know how hard it is to make ends meet, and I have no idea what Max’s lifestyle is like.
“My town hasn’t ever seen this level of police presence before,” I state, making conversation, as I clasp my hands together on my lap so I don’t get myself dirty on the dust that is thick on the center console.
“There sure is a lot,” he says, and I notice him sweating, even though it is cool out.
“Oh, we should have turned down that street!” I say, as I notice he missed the turn.
“Nope, I need to go the long way around, to get around the police barricades, otherwise it will take us hours.”
I nod in understanding. Although I have my ID to wave us through any police checkpoint, I don’t say anything, just grateful for the ride. I notice he leans in and turns up the air conditioning in his car, the cold blast chilling me to the bone. I rub my arms to fight the chill.
“Sorry, I have trouble regulating my temperature,” he offers.
“It’s fine, no problem,” I say with a small smile. While I know Max, I don’t know him well, and sitting in such close proximity makes me feel a little awkward. I stare out the window and watch the world go past, noticing that he really is taking the long way around, as we are now on the total opposite side of the city. The air conditioner is blowing directly in my face, and my throat dries from the blasting air. I swallow, but it gives me little reprieve, and I start to clear my throat and cough a little, trying to find some moisture.
“Sorry, let me turn it down. Here, I have a drink.” Max offers me a bottle of water, and I take it, thankful to have something to quench my parched throat as he turns the cool air off for a moment.
“Ahhh, thank you. I don’t think I have had a sip of water all day!” I say as I take another big swig of water, then another. Mentally noting that I need to increase my daily water intake, scolding myself for not sticking to a healthy habit that is so simple.
“No problem. I am just going to head back into the center this way,” he says, turning on his indicator to turn left, when he should be turning right.
“No, Max, I think you’re meant to turn that way,” I say, pointing as my vision gets fuzzy.
“You look good in the outfit I picked for you…” Max says, as he pulls the car to the side of the road. He stops the car and looks at me.
What did he say?My head feels like it is floating… I can’t hang onto the words.
“Max... I think. I can’t… Max…” I say as the world spins. My body starts to sweat, and darkness consumes me before I can hear his reply.
41
HARRISON
Where is Beth? She should be here by now,I think to myself as I tread a very well-worn path into the thin carpet in Jeff’s office. The community center is overflowing with people. The caterers are buzzing in the kitchen, the media scrum camped outside is ten people deep, and as Beth predicted, Jeff is run off his feet, trying to manage everyone. In fact, I haven’t seen him for hours.
Umbrellas are being handed out to everyone outside as the rain has started. The thick gray clouds rolling in as they often do this time of year. Tom arrived back an hour ago without Beth. She wasn’t at her house, and no one has heard from her. I pull out my cell and dial her number for the hundredth time as I look out the window at the ominous weather. Her phone rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer.
Beth. Where are you?
“Any word?” Eddie asks from behind me, where he sits with Ben and Tennyson.
“Nothing,” I grit out. The feeling in the pit of my stomach is back, my body filled with panic I don’t want to expend in front of anyone yet.
