AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hey,” Molly said, feeling her own eyes start to sting. She’d gotten used to the presence of another person, much the way someone got used to the quiet and persistent presence of a cat when they were accustomed to living alone. “It’s going to be okay. Your parents are going to take good care of you,” she said, though she had no idea if this was true, or whether they’d be so angry that they’d skin her hide. Probably the former though, if Molly was a betting woman. “And before you know it, you’ll be amother, Helena.”
Surprisingly, tears began to roll down Molly’s cheeks. She hadn’t realized until then how much she was hoping that she might be there to meet this new baby, and to see Helena's home. She still could, of course. She could insist on staying until the plane ticket arrived, or even buy her own ticket to London and make her way to Lundy to ensure that Helena was safely ensconced back at home, but she knew that wasn’t her job. She’d completed her part in Helena’s journey, and now it was time to let the girl go, just as she’d let Adi go on Fiji, and just like she would spend the rest of her life letting Rodney go.
After a long, tearful hug filled with an abundance of gratitude on Helena’s part, and with tons of reassurance and big sisterly advice from Molly, the women parted. The guard led Molly from the room and left Helena there with the chair and the desk and the phone, and as the door closed behind Molly, she looked back through the window to see her friend’s tear-streaked face as she stood there, one hand pressed to the window, and the other hand anxiously knotting and twisting the hem of her stretched-out t-shirt.
Molly put her palm to the window so that their fingertips were separated by just a pane of glass. “Love you,” Molly mouthed to her, hoping that it would somehow infuse Helena with the strength she’d need to get herself home, to face her parents, and to raise this baby.
“Love you, too,” Helena mouthed back, swiping at her tears.
In an instant, Molly was outside on the street with her rucksack, passport, and the August sun beating down on her. She was on the outskirts of Badajoz, Spain and she had three hundred and forty-seven dollars to her name. Her boat was docked, and she was on her own.
Where should I go next? What do I do?Molly thought to herself as she purchased a map and spread it on a table at a bistro, rattling the cup and saucer at her elbow as she did and nearly spilling thecafe con lecheshe’d ordered. All of Europe stretched out before her and she skimmed the map with her eyes, letting them wander across all the major cities. There were tons of places she and Rodney had wanted to go together, and while she wasn’t exactly flush with cash, she knew that she could pretty much make anything work, and that she’d pick up odd jobs here and there as needed to make money.
Molly sighed and lifted her small coffee cup, sipping the hot coffee as she watched stylish women walk past and the handsome men who watched them. Spain was cosmopolitan and had a dangerous edge; Molly walked through the streets feeling the eyes on her bare legs, on her long, loose hair, on her young face. It felt nice to be seen, but she knew that she wasn't always being seen so much as leered at.
One evening, as she was making her way back to the hostel she'd found, she was walking with a girl named Kate from New York, and they were eating gelatos. As they shared bites of their respective flavors with one another they talked about what they missed most about the States, and Molly found herself laughing and feeling carefree in a way that she hadn't when Helena was with her. With Helena, she'd been the one in charge. She knew instinctively that she was caring for a wounded bird, and therefore they'd adopted the appropriate roles with one another--companionable and loving, but functional.
Now that she was on her own again, Molly felt the kind of lightness that comes with not having to look over her shoulder and watch out for anyone else, and that was exactly what she was doing--only thinking of the present moment and her own laughter--when she and Kate rounded a corner and came face to face with a group of six hungry-looking Spaniards.
The one closest to them lifted his chin as if to say, "What's up?" Molly stopped in her tracks. She felt a prickle of fear on the back of her neck and she nearly dropped her gelato as she turned around and walked the other way.
"Come on, Kate," she said, all the laughter gone from her voice.
"It's okay," Kate said, still sounding happy and unaware.
"We should go the other way," Molly insisted. She was already walking back across the cobblestones in the direction from which they'd come. Her every instinct was to break into a full-blown sprint, but she kept her steps even, measured.
"No!" shouted one of the men, trying to sound jovial. "Wait for us, pretty ladies!"
Molly felt Kate catch up to her, walking so closely that their elbows were touching. "I thought they were just being friendly," Kate said in a low voice. The heels of their flat sandals clicked across the cobblestones as they linked arms and walked quickly.
"Those weren't friendly faces." Molly tightened her grip on Kate's arm and they picked up their pace.
"Beautiful women," one of the men called, hissing through his teeth. "Come! Say hello!"
The rest of the men started hissing, and Molly could feel them closing in.
"We should run," she said to Kate. "I don't think they're just hissing to say hello."
At the same time, Kate and Molly dropped their gelatos and let go of one another, breaking into a jog as they dodged parked cars and motorbikes.
"Stop!" the men called, continuing to hiss and chase them. "Stop the running!"
Molly reached back with one hand and Kate clasped onto it, and they kept running. Ahead, a shop door was open and Molly lunged for it, pulling Kate along with her. They were inside a tiny butcher shop where a man in a bloody apron stood behind the counter holding a meat cleaver. He looked surprised.
"Help us, please," Molly begged, breathless. "There are men--"
Just then, the group of hissing men reached the shop's open doorway and they stopped, catching their collective breath as they leered at the two. young women.
The butcher instantly ascertained the situation. He came out from behind the counter holding his cleaver. His face was angry.
"Salgan de aquí, idiotas. Ir!" The butcher waved his cleaver around as he marched over to the open door.
With resignation, the men swore back at him in Spanish, waving their hands and clearly calling him an old man with notesticulos. Molly wasn't sure about all the words that were being exchanged as she and Kate huddled in the corner of the brightly lit shop. She looked around at the long links of sausage, the chicken cutlets in the refrigerated case, and at the blood on the floor, and she figured she could have chosen a worse shop to end up in, like some sort of perfume shop filled with female employees. This guy at least had some heft to him, with his meaty hands, his bloody cleaver, and his loud, angry voice.
The men finally retreated, and the butcher turned to look at them. He spoke no English. "Chicas estúpidas, Están bien?" he muttered, walking back behind the counter and resuming his work. His eyes looked at them from beneath a pair of bushy gray eyebrows.
"Yes, we're fine," Molly said as her heart rate slowed. "Bien."
