Runaways

by V. C. Andrews

  "What do you think?" I asked.

  "Beggars can't be choosers," Crystal answered cheerily. I could tell she was trying to make everyone feel better.

  We all got out and entered the restaurant. It wasn't as small inside as we thought. There were tables on the right and left but no booths. Directly in front of us was a counter with very worn-looking black vinyl-- covered stainless-steel stools, and behind it was the kitchen, wide open to view. A short, thin black man with two patches of stark white hair on the sides of his head was cooking over a grill. He gazed up with some interest and then went back to his griddle cakes, eggs and bacon, and muffins, all of which filled the air with delicious aromas. My stomach did flip-flops in anticipation and from the looks on the faces of Crystal, Butterfly and Raven, theirs did, too.

  A tall woman with drab-looking dark brown hair that had dull gray strands woven through worked the counter and apparently was the only waitress. Her eyes looked watery, bloodshot, and tired, which fit her ashen complexion. She wasn't stout, but she had large upper arms. Her full bosom strained the tight white blouse, which had the top two buttons undone, divulging a deep cleavage. I could see it was a sight not missed by her customers, all males. Her black skirt was tight, so tight that her hipbone was embossed on both sides. She paused, put her hands on her waist and gazed at us.

  "If you're here to eat something, find a seat yourselves," she ordered.

  The customers, all looking our way, smiled. One man stuffed his face with an egg-soaked piece of bread as he watched us go to a table.

  "Looks like you should go wake Danny, Patsy. This is a real morning rush, huh?" he said.

  "You go wake him. Might as well try to wake the dead," she muttered. Everyone laughed.

  "I can wake him for you," a tall, well-built man of about forty claimed. He was sitting at a table. It was apparent that the place was small enough and the customers familiar enough with each other to participate in everyone's conversations.

  "If you were the one to wake him, Gordy, I know he wouldn't be any good to me ever," she replied.

  "That's not much of a loss. He's not any good to you now," Gordy responded and everyone smiled or laughed again.

  "Don't remind me," she said, turning to take a plate of hot cakes from the cook and then slap it down in front of a customer at the counter. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and came around the corner to us. She had no menus in her hands, but seemed to know immediately what I was thinking "Breakfast menu's on the wall," she said, nodding to a blackboard on the left.

  Everything was cheap enough, but if the four of us ordered something each, we wouldn't have enough money. Crystal studied the board.

  "What are you girls doing out this way?" she asked, looking from me to Butterfly and then to Raven and Crystal.

  "We're traveling," I said, "and saw your sign."

  "Told you it pays to advertise," the man called Gordy shouted. Some of the customers at the counter laughed.

  "Shut your face," she told him "I have real business here."

  He laughed harder. She turned back to us. "Can we get one order of pancakes, two eggs, two large orange juices and two coffees?" Crystal asked. "For all of you?"

  "Yes, ma'am," she said.

  The woman stared.

  "How much money do you have?" she asked sharply.

  "Enough for that," Crystal replied.

  "That's not what I asked," she snapped. Crystal held her gaze for a moment and then looked at our money.

  "We have eleven dollars and forty-three cents," she told her.

  "Total?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Crystal said.

  "How far are you going?" she asked. Raven started to squirm in her seat. Butterfly looked more terrified.

  "We're supposed to get to California eventually," I said, "but we were robbed last night and that's all we have."

  "No kidding?" she asked, scratching her head. "How were you robbed?"

  "Someone we trusted took our money while we were sleeping," I said.

  "Damn," she said. "And so you have only eleven dollars left, huh?"

  "And forty-three cents," Crystal corrected.

  "Right, forty-three cents." She sighed deeply and shook her head. "Just call me Mrs. Soft Touch," she declared, turning toward the cook. "Charlie, four pancake specials." The cook nodded.

  "But we can't afford that," Crystal said anxiously.

  "No one leaves Patsy's place hungry," she replied. "It's a rule of the house."

  She returned to the counter. We watched her pour four glasses of juice for us.

  "That's very nice of her," Raven said warily. Raven wasn't about to trust a stranger again so quickly.

  Two more customers arrived and before we got our food, three more customers followed. Patsy was very busy. I saw the cook put our plates up.

  "I'm going to help her," I said, getting up from the table.

  "What?" Raven said.

  Patsy was taking an order but saw me move behind the counter. She didn't complain as I picked up the plates and began bringing them back to our table. I had worked as a waitress before and knew how to carry four plates. I served the girls and sat.

  "This is good," Raven said between bites.

  "Very good," Butterfly said. "The eggs are just like I like them, too."

  Patsy had to take orders, work the counter and bus the tables. Her restaurant obviously had a good reputation with the local people despite the slow service because more customers arrived and all seemed to know her. Everyone looked patient, but eager. I ate quickly and then rose again before the girls had finished.

  "What are you doing?" Crystal asked.

  "Helping her," I said. I began to clear the dishes off the tables where customers had left. I found the tray for dirty glasses and dishes behind the counter and beside it, a clean wet rag with which to wipe down the tables. As soon as Raven was finished, she rose and began to do the same.

  Patsy stood by smiling at us and shaking her head. "Got new hired help?" someone asked.

  "Looks like it," she replied with a half-smile.

  When we had cleared the empty tables, we began to set the tables with clean silverware. A young man with red-gad- hair complimented Raven on her waitressing abilities and I could tell from her shy smile and quiet "Thank you" that she was flattered.

  "Thanks for jumping in," Patsy said as she hurried by me with an order.

  "Should I see if anyone wants seconds on coffee?" I asked her after she shouted another order at the cook. She stared at me a moment.

  "You work restaurants before?"

  "Yes, ma'am, summers," I told her.

  "Okay," she said. "Thanks." She went to deliver another order and I followed, offering coffee. Crystal sat astounded and Butterfly looked at us with a beaming smile.

  "We could use more help," I told Crystal. "Raven seems occupied." The young man had asked for more coffee and was lavishing praise on Raven.

  She looked a little uncomfortable but kind of interested at the same time.

  Finally, the place began to empty and Patsy was able to catch up on her work. The breakfast rush was over. She gave a man coffee at the counter and then walked over to Crystal and me.

  "How come you girls are on the road by yourselves?" Patsy asked.

  "We were heading out to California to visit my aunt for two weeks," Crystal said. "We all go to the same school back in New York and our parents gave us money for the trip. It was supposed to be a summer adventure. Now, we have to turn back," she said sadly.

  "When were you supposed to be in California?" Patsy asked.

  "It didn't matter. We could take our time. We had the whole summer," I added, embellishing Crystal's imaginative concoction. It was funny how I always thought of Crystal as telling creative stories rather than lies. I guess it was because I knew she had no meanness in her, no real deceit. She always looked as if she enjoyed making up the lies as much as she would enjoy making up a story for English class.

  "We made the mistake of picking
up a girl hitchhiker yesterday and she robbed us," Crystal continued, mixing the truth with fantasy.

  "I see," Patsy said, shaking her head.

  She looked at two of the tables where customers had left tips.

  "Some of that money is yours, girls," she said. "Oh no. You gave us food. We can't take that," I said.

  She laughed and thought a moment as we watched Raven say good-bye to the young man she had been talking to all this time.

  "Well, if your aunt can wait a few more weeks for you, I could use some help here and you can earn enough money to get to California," she said. "I have a cottage behind the restaurant you four can use. It's not much. You'll have to fix it up some, but I can give you fresh towels and linen. It was once used for travelers," she added. "Back when my husband was alive."

  "What happened to him?" Crystal asked.

  "He was killed in a car crash, drunk driver. You heard mention of my son Danny. He's not much help here, I'm afraid. He's been a handful ever since Eddie was killed. Charlie there has been our cook for over ten years."

  "That's right," Charlie said, smiling. "You girls were really good out there. Real professional."

  "This was once a pretty busy little place before they built the new highway. In those days we could afford a full staff of waiters and waitresses. I had a counterman, too. I can't pay you much, but you can make some good tips and have free room and board. This is a busy time of the year for me, the busiest," she added.

  "We can do that, can't we, Crystal?"

  Raven joined us.

  "Do what?"

  "Stay here and work a few weeks to earn back the money we lost last night," I said and hoped Raven wouldn't say anything to contradict our story.

  "Really? Oh, that would be great," she said, looking dreamily out the window. Suddenly she caught herself staring and shook her head. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I think I'll go splash some cold water on my face. I'm feeling hot all of a sudden. This waitressing stuff is harder than I remembered."

  "What's that all about?" Crystal wondered aloud.

  Butterfly, who was looking out the window, turned to us. "Who is that man, Patsy?" she asked.

  "Taylor Cummings," Patsy answered with a scowl. "He doesn't miss a pretty face. Tell Raven to be careful--that boy's a wild one," Patsy advised.

  "You don't have to worry about Raven. She looks like a knockout, but she knows enough when someone is giving her a line," Crystal replied. Usually I would have agreed with her, but suddenly, I wasn't so sure.

  "Yeah, but Raven acted different with this guy . . ." I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

  "Well, then, let's go see how bad the cottage is," Patsy said. "Charlie, keep an eye on things. be right back."

  "Yes, ma'am," he replied and came around from the kitchen.

  When we walked out of the restaurant, Raven came hurrying over. We watched her new male friend pull away in his truck.

  "Are we staying for sure?" she asked. That was definitely hope I heard in her voice.

  "We'll see," I said, gazing at her closely. "We're going to look at the cottage and then we're going to get ready to do some work," I added.

  Although the cottage was small, it had a bedroom with two single beds and a pull-out sofa that would sleep two. There wasn't much of a kitchen, just a nook with a sink and a small stove. The refrigerator looked broken, the door dangling open. Since we wouldn't be cooking anything anyway, that didn't matter. The bathroom was tiny, too, but it had a small tub and a shower head on a hose that connected to the faucet. There were rust stains around all the drains and rings around the sink and the tub. The whole place had a musty odor. There were cobwebs in almost every corner and dust coated everything.

  "Looks a little worse than I thought," Patsy muttered.

  "It's not so bad," Raven said quickly. "We can stay here, can't we, Brooke? We'll roll up our sleeves and make it look like a palace in no time."

  "We'll manage," I agreed. "Crystal?"

  "Let's talk about it," she said.

  "Oh, I understand, honey," Patsy said. "You girls discuss it and come back to the restaurant when you've decided one way or another."

  As soon as she left us, Raven turned on Crystal.

  "Why did you say that? This is a chance to stay free," she cried.

  "If we look too anxious, she'll get suspicious," Crystal said softly. "Why would four girls from homes that could afford to send them to California on a summer trip put up with this?" she asked, her arms out.

  "We were just robbed. That's why!" Raven replied.

  "Well-to-do people could wire the money to get us home or even to California, Raven. Don't push it." She studied the scene and thought while Raven waited anxiously.

  "I think we could sleep here all right," Butterfly said.

  "Of course we could," Raven said, eying Crystal. "Didn't we almost sleep in the car the other night?"

  "Okay," Crystal said. "We'll do it. We'll make it seem as if this is all part of an adventure for us, but don't say anything to her that might make her suspicious about us, Raven."

  "I won't say a word," she promised, her right hand raised.

  Crystal nodded and then looked at me.

  "Maybe this will work out for us. Maybe our luck is changing," she said. "Let's decide who takes the pull-out."

  "Butterfly and me," Raven said quickly.

  "Raven snores," Butterfly complained.

  "I do not."

  "I'll sleep on the pull-out with Raven," I said, eying her. I was determined to get to the bottom of Raven's strange new mood.

  The four of us returned to the restaurant to tell Patsy we had decided to take up her offer. When we entered, there was a long-haired boy of about nineteen slumped over a steaming cup of coffee at the counter. He wore a Grateful Dead sweatshirt that looked as if it had died and been resurrected because it was so shredded and faded, and a pair of jeans and dirty sneakers with no socks.

  "Here they are," Patsy said and he turned. "We'd like to stay, Patsy," I said.

  "Good. This is my son Danny," she said, her smile stiffening into a look of disapproval.

  He squinted, squeezing his hazel eyes into slits, and then smirking rather than smiling at us, as if he was disappointed in either what he saw or what he had heard. He had a soft mouth with a lower lip that appeared swollen, and a small cut on his chin. He had Patsy's nose, a little broader at the bridge, but his ears were larger and came more to a point at the tops.

  Danny wasn't fat or physically impressive, but he did have the beginnings of a beer belly. There was no question he wouldn't win any contests, unless it was a contest to choose the least hygienic looking man under twenty-five.

  "You could say hello, Danny," Patsy urged. "Hello," he muttered and turned back to his coffee. "What the hell are they going to do?" he asked her.

  "Mostly what you should be doing," she replied. "Come along, girls, and I'll get you some linen and things to use to clean up the place. Danny, could you pull the boards off the cottage windows, please?"

  He grunted.

  She shook her head sadly and we followed her to the trailer. The moment she opened the door, she began a string of apologies. Danny had his clothes strewn about, empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and dirty dishes on the kitchen table. She made an attempt to pick up some of it.

  "I begged him to clean up before he came out today. He had some of his friends over last night. Late," she added. She groaned and put her hand on her lower back as she straightened up after getting a beer can off the floor. "Be right back," she said, going farther into the trailer.

  Crystal looked at me and shook her head. "Why is he so mean to his mother?" Butterfly asked.

  "What he needs is a good kick in the rear end," I mumbled.

  Patsy brought us sheets, towels and a pail with cleaning liquids. She gave Raven the mop and some sponges.

  "Let me know what else you need. About four, we'll get ready for the dinner crowd. We've been getting a pretty good one la
tely," she said. "Well," she added, "welcome to the Crossroads, girls."

  We were at a crossroad, I thought--a place to catch our breath and decide if we were just fooling ourselves with our dreams or if we were really halfway toward finding a real home.

  8 In Sickness and in Health

  Since both Raven and I had experience working as waitresses, we decided that for the first day or so at least, Crystal and Butterfly would be in charge of cleaning up the cottage. Danny had grudgingly removed the boards from the windows and we realized immediately that we'd need curtains or shades. I improvised using towels so we would have some privacy and keep the sunshine from waking us too early in the morning, although getting ready for the breakfast crowd meant we'd usually be up before the sun anyway.

  Raven was the first to grumble about the early hour, though we all wanted to crawl back under our sheets and warm blankets. "It's turning out that we're worse off being free!" she exclaimed.

  Crystal started to laugh and then stopped, put on her schoolteacher face, and told Raven that real freedom meant responsibility, not only for yourself, but often for someone else.

  "I know, I know, I just wish we could sleep in a little longer," she said with a yawn. Crystal looked at me as if to say, "I tried," then dropped the subject. Whether we liked it or not, we would be up very early every morning for as long as we stayed.

  Charlie was always there before daylight, making fresh pancake batter, grits, oatmeal and coffee. He could make some wonderful omelettes, too; and from what we quickly learned, his reputation as a cook was, along with the attractive prices, what kept Patsy's following consistent and loyal.

  "You girls are a breath of fresh air," he told us. "I ain't seen Patsy this bright and cheery for a long time. Lately," he added, "she ain't had all that much to make her bright and cheery."

  Hanging around Charlie, you would never know there was any doom and gloom about the place. No matter how busy we got or how flustered one of us became, Charlie was always cheerful and lighthearted. He was easy to work with, patient and friendly. He never lost his temper when one or the other of us would mix up an order, but I did see his eyes grow darker and the smile leave his face whenever Danny appeared. Danny didn't speak to him with any respect either. He always made demands rather than requests and he never thanked Charlie, or anyone for that matter.