Meg debated.
Not that she was afraid of this loathsome creature. She knew she could control him with minimal effort. But she wasn’t sure her stomach could handle the stench rolling off him.
“No, but I do need some cash. Please be a gentleman and toss me your wallet and cell phone.”
The ape-minded man stared, slack-jawed at the girl who stood with her hands on her hips, long dark curls desperately trying to take flight, free from the bandana she’d left with Niche’s body. Meg just smiled and waited for the rusty cogs of his brain to turn over.
“Yes, miss,” he stammered, reaching into his front, breast pocket for the thick wad of a wallet, then yanked the charger out of the phone that had been tossed in the center console.
“Leon? Your name is Leon isn’t it?”
“Yes miss,” he stared in a daze.
“You’re going to clean up your life. Starting today, you’ll be concerned about hygiene and manners. You’ll quit dipping and start making healthier decisions.” Meg took the wad of money out of his wallet, leaving him with a fifty-dollar bill. “Oh and Leon,” she locked eyes with the dazed driver and pushed a little harder, “from this moment forward you will treat women with respect and appreciation.”
“Yes, miss.”
Meg nodded once and tossed the nearly empty wallet back into the cab. She grimaced at the grime-y condition of the phone, but held onto it anyway. “Drive away Leon,” Meg ordered over her shoulder as she turned to walk away.
“Yes, miss,” she heard him say once more before the door to the cab closed and the engine roared back to life.
Meg shook her head and pocketed the four hundred dollars and used the edge of her shirt to wipe down the phone in a vain attempt to minimize her exposure to whatever Leon had been doing with his phone.
She punched in her mother’s phone number first, and frowned when it went directly to voicemail. She tried Alik’s number, then Evan’s but heard the same automated message: “The number you have dialed is disconnected or no longer in service.”
In desperation she tried the last three numbers she had memorized, but knew before she pressed send that each would be just as useless as the last.
Shit.
She scowled angrily at the phone, willing it to give her an idea. Nothing came to her, but just to add insult to injury, a low battery alert popped onto the screen. She moaned in frustration and turned the phone off in an effort to save some power before pocketing the piece.
With a deep breath, she turned her attention to securing a safe ride home. She would have to use other means to get ahold of her family.
Ten minutes later, an old beige Cadillac pulled up beside her. She had willed this one to stop for her having sensed a kindhearted, though wary grandfather driving back from a visit to his adult son’s home.
Meg turned and faced him as he slowed to a stop beside her.
“Are you okay, miss?” he asked, cautiously—but sincerely concerned for her safety.
“Yes sir, though I would appreciate a ride.”
“Where are you headed?”
“South, to Texas.”
“Well, I’m going as far as Oklahoma. You’re welcome to ride along with me.”
Meg smiled as she opened the passenger door and slipped inside.
“I can help pay for gas, sir,” Meg offered as she laid the wad of money, compliments of Leon, on the console between their seats.
“That would be really helpful, miss.” He smiled a denture smile. “I’m on a fixed income and the gas budget was going to be tight.”
“Glad to help.” Meg nodded, knowing he had no money for food or lodging after having spent a little too much yesterday at the baseball game treating his grandchildren.
The gentleman started to pull away from the curb. “I’m Hugh Charles.” He offered a leathery, arthritic hand. Meg took his hand gently. “I’m Meg Winter.”
“Do you mind me asking what you were doing out here all alone, Meg?”
“I had to say good-bye to some friends,” Meg murmured the truth, thinking of Niche’s last words to her.
“Some friends,” the gentleman huffed, “to have left you out here alone!”
Meg gazed out the window at the blurring scenery flying past. “They didn’t want to leave me. Sometimes good-byes happen so much sooner than anyone would have hoped, and sometimes we don’t even get to say good-bye.” Her eyes started to swell with fresh tears and this time, she let them flow. There needs to be time to grieve. Loss is loss.
26 Tears, Sweat and the Sea