by Cole Baxter
What to do now? she wondered.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" she asked, feeling like a complete idiot. Of course she is not okay. The woman looked unreachable, clearly in the middle of some kind of a seizure.
Think, Mary, think.
Reluctantly, Mary turned toward the other passengers. "Is there a doctor here?" she asked in hope, and at the same time, she knew no one would answer her.
"Great," she mumbled. I guess it's all on me.
"Just let her be," a brave faceless voice advised her.
Mary frowned. That was something she certainly wasn't about to do. She searched her brain and remembered reading somewhere that when a person was seizing, it was important to make sure they didn't hurt themselves in the process.
Very carefully, Mary pulled the woman away from the train wall, stopping her from banging her head against the window, and not knowing what else to do, she held the other woman against her body, trying that way to limit her movements. Despite her age, the woman was rather strong, Mary noted, using all her might to contain her.
"It's okay, everything will be okay." Mary started to soothe her, speaking all kinds of nonsense her grandmother used to say to her when Mary was a child and in distress.
Truth be told, she had no idea what she was doing since she had no idea what was wrong with the other woman. She just prayed she wasn't causing more damage than good.
Mary enjoyed medical dramas occasionally, yet that did not make her a diagnostician. Luckily, by the time they reached the next station, the woman had lost a great deal of power and eventually stopped seizing altogether.
Thank God.
"Are you okay?" Mary asked softly in concern, looking down at the elderly woman who looked right back at her, wide-eyed.
Mary noticed how well-dressed and refined the other woman looked, even after going through that hell. She had a passing thought as she waited for the other woman to reply. Some people are just born regal, I suppose.
Mary was just about to repeat her question when she asked, "What happened?"
Since she was holding the other woman, Mary slowly released her, not wanting to seem as though she was invading her personal space.
"Well, you had some kind of a seizure," Mary explained to the best of her knowledge.
The woman looked awkward. "Oh, my, that happens sometimes," she explained with a sigh. "Thank you for helping me, honey. That was very kind of you," she said as she smoothed out her hair, wincing as she brushed over the spot she’d hit against the window during the seizure.
"Do you want me to take you to the hospital? Or call someone?" Mary offered. The other woman looked perfectly fine at the moment, if only a little worn out, but Mary was still worried.
"Oh, no," the woman was quick to reassure her. "I just need to go home and rest for a bit, but thank you for your concern."
"Are you sure?" Mary insisted.
The woman smiled. "Yes, quite sure." She started looking about, as though trying to determine where she was.
Not a good sign.
"Oh, my stop is coming," the woman declared and tried to get up.
The keyword was tried. As she started to rise from the bench, her legs, clearly not ready to support her, gave out and she slumped back down.
"Let me help you," Mary said, reaching for the other woman.
She smiled in kind, clearly grateful, and using Mary as support, she managed to get up on her feet. Mary could feel how fragile and weak the woman was. Together, they moved toward the exit.
"Thank you," the woman told her. "Kindness is a rare commodity these days."
"I noticed," Mary replied, trying really hard not to judge the other passengers for choosing not to get involved.
"Do you want me to call your doctor for you?"
The woman waved with her free hand. "I don't need that quack's opinion. Besides, I live nearby."
Mary didn't like the ease with which the other woman spoke about such things. However, she was not about to argue.
Once the train stopped, they exited with the sea of other people. Seeing no other way, Mary said, "Lead the way," fully determined to make sure this good woman reached the safety of her home.
Chapter Three
The woman's name was Ruby Thompson, and by Mary's assessment, she was in her late fifties—not that she would ever ask for a specific year of birth—and lived in a beautiful brick apartment building in Brooklyn.
Despite the obvious fatigue, she was a genuine Chatty Cathy.
She started to say Mary Orville and bit her tongue in the last minute. Fresh start, remember? "Mary Wright,” she introduced, deciding to use her maiden name again. Surprisingly, it felt good abandoning Nick’s last name.
"I'm sorry to be such a burden, Mary," she said, waving her free hand in an overly dramatic fashion.
"Oh, not at all," Mary reassured her. It wasn't as though her social life was filled with other activities, and besides, helping someone in need took precedence.
"I'm sure you have better things to do than attend to an old hag like me," Ruby joked.
The old hag bit was a clear exaggeration. Ruby looked really put together, and it was obvious she cared a great deal about herself and her health, even if she did wear slightly more makeup than Mary was accustomed to.
To be fair, some lip gloss and mascara would probably leave the same effect on Mary. She never bothered with that so she couldn't judge what was excessive.
"Don't mean to keep you away from your responsibilities, although I really appreciate the help," Ruby insisted.
"It's my pleasure." And she meant it.
Mary didn't have better things to do. There was no one and nothing in her life who needed her immediate attention. Her pity party could be postponed for a few hours, not that she shared that with the other woman.
"You are a true gem," Ruby said, patting her arm. "My hero."
Mary felt slightly uncomfortable with all the praise, so she simply smiled in return.
"Oh, I'm nothing special. Anyone would do the same thing in my place."
Ruby's answering glance was sharp, and Mary was pleased. Even though Ruby was still physically quite weak and needed assistance, her mind was clearly intact. Mary took that as a good sign that nothing serious had happened to her during that seizure, or more accurately put, that her brain and intellect had sustained no damage.
"We both know that's not true, honey," Ruby countered. "That train was packed with people and they all looked away, I'm sure, apart from you."
Mary knew the other woman was right. It just felt rude to point that out. Despite her outrage in those moments, Mary tried not to judge people. One can never know what trouble ails someone until you walk a mile in their shoes, her grandmother used to say, and Mary had to agree.
"Here we are." Ruby pointed toward her building. "I'm on the third floor."
By the looks of it, Mary was certain the place had no elevators.
Mary helped her new acquaintance up the stairs. Ruby also needed assistance to get to the couch. Mary made sure she was comfortable enough before asking, "Do you need anything, Ruby?"
Ruby had insisted to be called by her given name, and Mary relented. Despite her bravado, Mary was certain Ruby was still feeling awful and just putting on a show. Mary really sympathized with the older woman and wanted to help as much as she could.
"Oh, no, honey. I am perfect now. Just need a little bit of rest and I'll be up and running in no time."
Her enthusiasm was admirable.
"Okay, then," Mary replied slowly, not knowing what else to do or say. Perhaps it was time for her to go home.
She couldn't say why, but her heart clenched a little thinking about that small, empty apartment. Looking about Ruby’s home in a discrete manner, Mary was surprised to see how spartan the whole place looked. She assumed someone who dressed so flamboyantly would have a matching living space.
As it turned out, it was quite the contrary. There were no personal things on display anywhere. Despite
the slight sterility, the space was lovely. Mary could picture it in some magazines, advertising a very specific lifestyle.
"Please sit down with me for a bit," Ruby asked, snapping her from her reverie.
"Of course."
"Would you care for some coffee, tea?" Ruby offered like a good host.
Mary immediately stood back up on her feet. "I'll make it," she offered before Ruby got a crazy idea to do it herself. She needed to rest, and Mary liked to keep herself busy. Besides, it was good to be of use again.
"You really are my hero," Ruby said, clearly touched. "I've been craving a cup of coffee since I boarded that darn train," she confessed.
"Me too," Mary replied.
"The kitchen is through there."
"Got it."
Like the rest of the apartment, the kitchen was very functional and devoid of any personal touches. On the other hand, that made navigating through it a breeze, and in mere minutes, Mary returned to the living room with two steamy cups of coffee.
"This is delicious," Ruby exclaimed, taking a tentative sip, then a proper one, paired with a sigh of content.
"I added a little bit of cinnamon," Mary explained.
"It's brilliant. I adore it."
Mary smiled, pleased that she’d managed, even in this small regard, to help Ruby forget about her troubles. With relief, she observed that Ruby was looking much better since she'd gotten home, and as time passed, she improved further until she recovered completely.
"That's it. Now you have to come every day to make me this delight," Ruby announced in what Mary suspected was her natural way of conversing. It was a bit dramatic, and somehow, to a person like Ruby, it suited her perfectly.
They started talking as they enjoyed their beverages. As it turned out, Ruby had led a rather remarkable life in her youth, not that she was that old now. She was a theater actress, and Mary wondered what had made her stop performing, not that she asked. That would be too personal of a question to share with a perfect stranger.
Whatever the reasoning, Ruby now lived completely alone in a place that didn't look like it quite suited her character. Mary sympathized with the other woman. She too was alone and trying to figure out where she fit into the world.
At the same time, she thought she understood Ruby's lifestyle. If she were a famous actress whose career had ended for some reason, then it was quite understandable that she didn't want any memorabilia around her to remind her of the glory days, especially if something traumatic happened.
Oh stop, Mary, she snapped at herself. You always assume the worst.
The lack of memorabilia could suggest that Ruby was living on a tight budget, although everything that surrounded them at the moment, from the couch to the table and chairs, looked top-notch.
Ruby talked just a little bit about herself. She was more interested in what Mary had to say about herself and found everything fascinating. Mary felt lacking for not having a better story to share other than being a personal assistant who lived alone and had no relatives. Not that Ruby acted in such a manner, like she minded or was bored. Quite the contrary.
"Should I pour us some cherry brandy?" Ruby offered at some point.
Mary rarely drank alcohol and was about to refuse when Ruby continued speaking while standing up. "It was a gift from Robert Strike."
Mary was delighted to hear that. "You knew Robert Strike?" she exclaimed in surprise. She would be lying if she said that tidbit of information didn't change the way she looked at Ruby. Mary had suspected she'd led a glamorous life, and now she had proof.
Ruby waved her hand, reaching a small bureau. Mary noticed it was filled with all kinds of bottles. Her host reached inside and took out one of the smaller ones. It looked really expensive. Grabbing two glasses as well, Ruby returned to her seat.
"He was in love with me, you know," she said with a small smile, offering Mary a glass.
Mary took it with awe. "Really?" Robert Strike was one of her favorite actors. Sadly, he passed away almost a decade ago. However, learning something so intimate from his life made Mary feel like she was a schoolgirl again, watching his movies with her grandma.
"He told me I was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon in his entire life, but I'm sure he told that to all the girls he tried to seduce. At any rate, that was a long time ago," she added, taking a sip of her brandy.
Ruby was clearly being modest at the moment. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, tall and slender and dressed in a vivid green suit that accentuated all that she had to offer. And though her blonde hair was graying, it was still lush and complimented her gray-green eyes perfectly.
The age did sharpen her features a little, and that was simply a testament to the life she'd lived. Mary was quite in awe of the woman. She could just picture Ruby in her mid-twenties. No wonder Robert Strike was so smitten by her. Mary was sure all the men were.
She wished she were more like Ruby. Not physically, per se, although Mary was on the short side and always a bit chubby, but just to have that confidence to dress in such a dazzling manner or to have skills to paint her face and actually look attractive might be good for a change.
Surprisingly, they drank a couple of glasses of that sweet liquor, and when Mary started to feel the effects of it, she decided it was time for her to excuse herself and go home. She was shocked to discover how late it had gotten while they talked.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay for the night?" Ruby offered. "I would feel awful if anything happened to you."
"I'll be fine, Ruby. It's not that late," Mary reassured her.
For the briefest of moments, she looked like she wanted to argue then changed her mind. "Very well, but please call me when you get home because I'll worry the whole time," she implored.
Mary was genuinely touched. "It's a deal," she replied with a small smile, accepting Ruby's phone number.
Saying her goodbyes, Mary rushed home. She never felt comfortable being alone on the streets, especially at night. When she was younger, she'd almost been robbed, and that had stuck with her.
Come to think of it, Mary couldn't remember when the last time was that she’d stayed out this late. Or when she’d had this much fun, for that matter.
Ruby was everything Mary wasn't, confident, full of life despite her disease, and overall, a happy and kind lady.
Once she reached home, she instantly called Ruby to let her know she had safely arrived, half expecting to get a nonexistent number. That did not happen.
Ruby was genuinely delighted that Mary had kept her word, and surprisingly, they spent the next hour and a half just talking about everything and nothing in particular. Mary really enjoyed their conversation.
It was good speaking with someone after such a long time. Speaking with someone I don't have to pay to do so, she corrected herself. Not that it was a slander against Dr. Carson. She was truly grateful for everything that man did for her because his help was priceless. However, they weren't friends, so it was a completely different matter from what she experienced with Ruby.
Hanging up, Mary wondered if she'd just made a friend or if Ruby was simply glad someone helped her and all of this was just a courtesy. She figured only time would tell.
Anyway, meeting Ruby did something to Mary, woke her up in some manner, and for that she would always be grateful to the woman, regardless of whether they ever saw one another again or not.
Click here to keep reading Trust A Stranger.
About Cole Baxter
Cole Baxter loves writing psychological suspense thrillers. It’s all about that last reveal that he loves shocking readers with.
He grew up in New York, where there crime was all around. He decided to turn that into something positive with his fiction.
His stories will have you reading through the night—they are very addictive!
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Also by Cole Baxter
Prime Suspect
Trust A Stranger
Did He Do It
Follow You
The Perfect Nanny
What Happened Last Night
Perfect Obsession
She’s Missing
What She Forgot
Before She’s Gone
Stolen Son
