23
Lia
Turns out, I’m not cut out for waitressing.
But whether I like it or not, I have no choice but to spend my days rushing around the restaurant, carrying plates of food and hot mugs of coffee.
Meanwhile, Aurora stays in the back room, looking at the same three storybooks over and over and making modern art with her crayons. It breaks my heart to see her looking so content with so little. She’s only two, but she’s had a hard life.
Sometimes, she gets bored of her toys, so she toddles after me, helping me bring plates of food to the tables.
For a little dump of a town, Debbie’s diner sure gets a lot of customers.
She wasn’t kidding when she said her restaurant was the only place in town to eat. Judging from the way the place is packed from noon to midnight, I can only assume that people here do not like eating at home.
By the time I’ve finished with each long shift, my feet are aching. I’m so tired I barely notice Debbie counting all the day’s tips, then putting them carefully in a metal cash box, which she locks with a key she wears on a chain around her neck.
In fact, I’m far too tired to do anything but wait until I can lie down on her couch with my little girl safe in my arms.
Yet over the past month, an idea has slowly but steadily been worming its way into my heart. An idea that turns into a suspicion, and then, to a sickening realization. Until I can’t do anything but accept that, once more, I’m stuck.
It’s strange to realize it. It took me a while to see, in this seemingly kind, albeit brusque woman, a new captor.
I thought I was free, and yet, by accepting her deal, I’m back to being caged.
Unable to walk away, because I have nothing. Not even the forty dollars I entered this place with.
“Your kid is missing just about anything,” she’d told me the morning after I’d awoken for the first time on her couch with my little girl in my arms. “Books, toys, potty, sippy cup… don’t you have any of those things?”
“Uhm…” I had rubbed my eyes. “I guess not.”
“Poor girl,” she had purred. “You were so young when you had her. Of course you don’t know what a little girl needs. Here, I took some cash from your pocket last night. I’m gonna go out and buy her some basics. Okay?”
“Uh…”
By the time I thought of an answer, she had already left.
Spending forty dollars on toys and books hadn’t felt very smart. Yet realizing I hadn’t been properly providing for Aurora made guilt surge at my throat.
I’m not a good mother. Selfish, manipulative, a bitch. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I at least be a good mother?
The usual refrain had twisted itself back into my brain, and I actually felt thankful that Debbie had somehow found my money and gone to purchase the things that I should have figured out a way to get for Aurora before.
Carmelo used to allow me to go to the supermarket once a week. Always with a list, and he’d check everything I bought, and hit me if I bought things that he didn’t consider were necessities.
I know he wouldn’t have thought baby items were a necessity.
But I should have put her first. What’s a punch compared to providing for her? I shouldn’t have let my fear of him get in the way of taking care of her.
That day, Debbie didn’t come back with much, apart from a notebook, crayons, and a few used storybooks.
While she was gone, I’d quickly gotten both Aurora and I dressed, and brought her over to the diner.
I spent what little time I had before my first shift clearing out the room in the back and doing my best to baby-proof it for Aurora.
When Debbie returned a while later with her meager purchases, I felt a new surge of thankfulness, coupled with even more guilt when I saw how excited Aurora was to look at everything.
Seriously, what kind of a mother was I? I’d never gotten her a toy, let alone a book. I’d never thought about anything but keeping her with me at every moment, shielding her from Carmelo and from the rough guys who’d sometimes pass through the house.
But later on, that thankfulness died right back down when I asked Debbie for my change.
“What change?”
“You got her three books and some crayons. That couldn’t have cost you forty dollars, could it?”
She merely shrugged. “Times are hard, honey. Things are pricey. Now go wait on table four.”
That was the first moment suspicion wormed its way into my brain.
Was this woman, who was offering me a place to stay and food to eat… taking advantage of me?
No. Without her, we’d be on the streets.
Or dead.
But every day, my suspicion kept growing stronger, until it gave way to actual panic.
Was she lying when she said she’d buy us tickets? Are we going to be stuck here forever?
It took thirty full days for my mind to panick enough that I started planning something drastic.
Another two days for my heart to give in to what my mind was screaming at me to do, because I never imagined myself being that manipulative.
But I’d be a whole lot more manipulative for Aurora, though that doesn’t mean I don’t hate myself for the way I watch Debbie for the first time as she carefully counts her money, before putting it in a metal box and locking it with the key that hangs from her neck.
“Well, let’s go,” she says, tapping me on the arm and startling me out of my thoughts. “You’re looking a little peaked, honey. You should take it easy.”
I bite down on the retort that’s on the tip of my tongue: how can I possibly take it easy when I’m doing all the work for two, while she reads her Danielle Steel novels in the kitchen, in between microwaving the frozen food she buys two towns over?
But lashing out is the worst thing I can possibly do right now.
Instead, I lift Aurora up in my arms, though carrying a growing child is not something my aching arms want to do right now.
The rest of me, though, is just hungering for a hug from my little girl, so I nestle my face in her curls and listen happily as she chirps excitedly about her day.
“Mama, pancake was good! Mama, played ball with boy! Mama, mama, arm went boom boom.”
“Hmm? What arm?” I question distractedly, as we walk into Debbie’s cramped apartment, and I deposit my little girl wearily on the closed toilet in the bathroom. “Do you want to brush your teeth first, or mama?”
“Mama,” she insists. “Boom boom!”
“You know what, we’ll have a competition. Let’s see who can brush their teeth the longest!” I put a pea of toothpaste on her brush, more on mine. She laughs as she chews on the brush when I try to bring it over her teeth.
“Silly Aurora,” I croon, continuing to brush her teeth at the same time as mine. “How’s mama doing? Is mama brushing her teeth well?”
“Yes, mama! Boom boom!”
“Come on, sweetie. I just spit, now it’s your turn. One, two…”
I lift her up, then freeze just as she opens her mouth to spit out her toothpaste.
“What do you mean, boom boom?”
“Arm boom boom!”
My heart races as I bring her back down, and kneel at her level. “Boom boom… like Papa?” I whisper.
“No, not Papa. Boom boom.”
“You didn’t see Papa,” I try to understand. “But you saw something that goes boom boom. Is that right?”
“Yes!” she chirps.
“Did you know the man who had the boom boom?” I say in a strangled voice. “Have you seen him before?”
I wait as she screws her face up to think, my heart beating so wildly I feel faint.
“Uh huh,” she confirms with a big smile. “I know boom boom!”
“Okay.” I close my eyes, pressing my forehead to hers. “Tell me, baby. Was it Logan? You know, Logan, who played ball with you?”
“Uh uh.” She shakes her head gravely.
“Was it Everest? The man with the blond hair?”
“No,” she tells me. “Boom boom!”
This time, there’s no doubt about what boom boom means. She extends her arm, mimicking a gun going off.
At any other time, I’d be overwhelmed with guilt at the thought that my two-year-old daughter has seen so many guns in her life that she can pretend to fire one. At any other time, I’d be kicking myself for not having been able to shield her from such violence.
But right now, I’m far too panicked to think of anything but our impending danger.
She saw a gun.
But so what? Lots of people carry guns. So what?
She knows him.
Maybe she’s wrong. Or maybe I’m not understanding her. Maybe… Maybe…
But I can’t come up with a single reassuring explanation.
“It wasn’t Papa?” I insist.
“Nuh uh. He had boom boom. He.”
“Who’s he?” I ask desperately. “What’s his name?”
“Boom boom! Boom boom!”
It’s no use. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t remember.
I hold her to me, trying to calm my shaking body.
“Okay, sweet Aurora. Okay. Let’s go to bed, my baby. Come on.”
As I tuck her into bed, any qualms I might have had have vanished.
I need to get to that cash box. I need to get to it tonight.
Because tomorrow, it might just be too late.