Love from the Other Side

by Claire Plaisted

  Everything changed for me the day after finals. I was on winter break from the university until the second week in January. While most of my friends were headed home for the holidays or going someplace exciting to drink lots of beer and have sex, I was getting evicted from my room. I’d scored a room in one of the nicest rooming houses in town. It was within easy walking distance to the campus and convenient to bars, coffee shops, the library, and enough fast food joints to keep me from getting bored. With the holiday break, I realized I would need to take on a part-time job if I expected to stay out of the vermin-infested dorms. However, the businesses on campus were laying workers off since business was slow without the daily influx of students. The job boards outside the school library had been stripped of most openings. The few call centers I submitted my resume to never got back to me. Finally, I gave in to the one posting I had been avoiding.

  “Drivers Needed!” The sign screamed in bold, italic letters. I had a fairly decent, well-running Honda Accord. It wasn’t the most luxurious car, but it was clean, got good gas mileage, and was paid off. I had toyed with the idea of living in it when the issue of back rent came up. The cold weather had me pushing the idea to the back of my mind. So, I became a Transporter driver. That was the name of the private car company in town.

  Most of my runs were to and from the airport, the bus station, the train station, and hospitals. I’d only been stiffed twice which I heard was good. There were trips to the emergency rooms with intoxicated partygoers who had either gotten into knock-down, drag out fights or had fallen down and broken legs, arms, hands, and in one instance, a pelvis. Why they didn’t call an ambulance was beyond me. But, as long as I got paid and tipped I just drove.

  The night had been a gold mine. I was heading back to the rooming house and sneaking upstairs past my landlady’s door when a group of guys flagged me down. As a Transporter I wasn’t supposed to pick up random fares, so I pulled over and opened the passenger window.

  “Sorry guys, I’m off duty.” It was almost four in the morning and we were in the middle of the business district. I figured they must have been attending an office party. I was open to an offer of big bucks I wouldn’t have to account for. But I figured a little negotiating might be needed.

  One of the guys leaned in the window, his bow tie hanging loosely around his neck, his tuxedo jacket open, his dress shirt untucked. “Man, we’ll pay you double if you take her to the hospital.”

  The strong order of booze and vomit competed with the icy night air. Before I could respond, two of the other guys pulled open the back door and shoved a woman into the back seat. As soon as she was in the car, puke breath tossed some bills on the front seat and the group took off at high speed down a one-way street, leaving the door opened.

  I leaped out the car and shouted after them. “Hey! Hey! I can’t take her!”

  One of the men looked back at me and shot me the bird. I responded with both my fingers and some select expletives. Bending to look in the back seat I almost keeled over. The woman was stunning. She looked like a movie star from the golden age; platinum hair, a silver gown that clung to her body like a second skin, jewels glittering in her ears and around her neck. I couldn’t tell what color her eyes were because they were closed.

  “Hey, um, miss, I really can’t take you...”

  She never moved, her eyes remained closed. Sighing and shaking my head, I made my way to the door. Leaning down I looked closely at her. She had to be freezing cold in the low-cut gown that left little to the imagination. Then I noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes. Reaching into the car, I shook her gently. Her skin was icy beneath my hand and I drew back quickly. “Holy shit!” I swore under my breath.

  I stared at her chest, hoping to see it rise and fall as she breathed. After a couple of seconds, I was pretty sure she was dead. Looking at the empty streets, my mind raced, trying to think. If I left her on the sidewalk and she wasn’t dead, she would probably die there. If I took her to the hospital I’d have to explain to the police how she came to be in my car. That could turn into an all-night process. Worse, the cops might think I had something to do with her demise. Finally, guilt and a sense of responsibility overruled fear and I slammed the door.

  Running around the front of the car, I jumped into the driver's seat and sped to the nearest hospital. Squealing into the emergency entrance, I leaped out of the car and hurriedly ran through the sliding glass door.

  “Hey, I need help here! I have an unconscious woman in my car!”

  The few heads in the waiting room turned to look at me, the nurse behind the desk literally jumped out of her seat, and two orderlies raced to my car. As they were lifting the woman out of the car, tossing questions at me like rice at a wedding, an ambulance, lights flashing and siren winding down, pulled in behind me.

  “Move your damn car and come inside,” one of the orderlies shouted as a doctor came outside accompanied by a nurse with a wheelchair.

  When I jumped into my car I had every intention of obeying him. But, when I pulled out on the street, I realized I would have to park in the nearby garage, pay for the pleasure of exposing myself to police questions, and walk a block and a half back to the hospital. I wasn’t sure what I would do until I drove past the garage and took the long way back to my rooming house.

  I’d check my rear-view mirror constantly, sure I would see the flashing blues and reds of a police car bearing down on me. It wasn’t until I pulled around to the small parking area behind the house that I took a deep breath. The joints in my fingers popped as I released my hold on the steering wheel. I had been clutching it so tightly they were white and bloodless.

  It took close to twenty minutes for me to stop trembling. I’d done the right thing. I’d been responsible. There was nothing I could have told the police about the woman. I wasn’t sure I could recognize any of the guys if I saw them again. Maybe she was alive and she could identify them. Once I was sufficiently calmed down I picked up the bills that had been tossed on the passenger seat by my fleeing friends. Staring in disbelief, I counted out almost seven hundred dollars in twenties and tens. That would catch me up on back rent and then some! I almost shouted for joy. Common sense kept me quiet.

  After making my way up to my room ninja style I tossed the money on my bed and threw myself on top of it. Joy began to fade to that pervasive guilt. Those guys weren’t paying for a ride to the hospital. They were paying for my silence. I was debating calling the hospital to check on the woman’s condition when I fell asleep. I was exhausted.

  I might have slept all day except my landlady banged on my door at 8:00 AM. I jumped out of bed certain the police were at the door, guns drawn and warrant in hand. I might have gone out the window if she hadn’t yelled through the door.

  “Come on! I know you’re in there. I can’t wait no more. Pay up or get out.” Her Tennessee twang broke the morning silence like the Hulk through a brick wall. The woman had some set of lungs.

  I was shoving money under my pillow and counting out my bank rent plus an extra month as I shouted back at her. “I’ve got it! Hang on!” Throwing open the door, I offered a big smile. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long Mrs. Cady. I appreciate your patience (she didn’t have any). Here’s what I owe you and a month in advance.”

  Her heavily shadowed eyes narrowed as she looked at the wad of cash I proffered. Never breaking eye contact she reached out and took it from my hand. Finally looking at it, she did a quick count. If it was possible her eyes narrowed even more until they were slits in her face. “You do something illegal? You remember, no drugs in the house?”

  “No, no! Nothing illegal!” I hoped that was the truth.

  I sensed her skepticism. As I suspected, her greed outweighed her morality. “I’ll write you up a receipt.” Turning slowly, she descended into the lower half of the house.

  Stripping down to my boxers, I crawled between my threadbare blankets and sheets and sighing heavily, went to sleep.

  Part 2

&n
bsp; Waking almost ten hours later, I had to decide if I wanted to drive that night. I recounted the money I’d stashed under my pillow. It wasn’t hard to make up my mind. My rent was seventy-five dollars a week. I’d given Mrs. Cady four hundred and fifty dollars. I had three hundred and seventy-five dollars left, not counting my meager pay and whatever tips I might make. Yes. I was going to drive.

  Before heading out, I booted up my laptop and searched local news to see if there was any mention of an unidentified woman being admitted to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital. There was nothing. I figured that was good news. If she had been dead there would have been police reports or a picture captioned, “Do you know this woman”?

  Relieved and ready with a plan, I set out on my Transporter adventures. I vowed I’d stay well away from the business district, not accept any calls in that area, and all would be well. Did I mention I was consumed by the desire to know everything about everything? You guessed it. I drove down the same damned street. And there she was.

  I almost ran up on the sidewalk. She was standing at the curb, staring back at one of the few buildings that still had lights on. Caught in my headlights, she turned toward my car. I was instantly reminded of how extraordinarily beautiful she was. She had either found her shoes or gotten new ones because her outfit was now complete. She wore spiky silver high heels and a silver evening bag with a glittery rhinestone strap hung over one slender pale shoulder. I hadn’t noticed the slit up the side of her dress, revealing an incredibly long, shapely leg, the night before. I should have driven off but seeing her was hypnotizing. Then she was walking toward my car, her hips swaying seductively.

  When she reached the passenger side window she leaned forward, her full breasts almost tumbling out of her dress. I didn’t open the window right away. I was too busy staring into the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She tapped the window with long silver-tipped nails.

  I lowered the window

  “Can you give me a ride? I can pay you extra.” Her voice was like music, soft, sibilant, and sexy. Her long blond hair fell forward, casting part of her face in shadow.

  I wondered if I should remind her of the previous evening. I decided against it. I still didn’t know if the police were involved. Clearing my throat, I squeaked out, “Sure. Hop in.”

  I’d forgotten I’d hit the auto lock on the doors and she pulled at the rear door handle a few times before I realized what the problem was. Once inside she gave me an address on the fashionable and pricey west side of town. The spicy scent of her perfume wafted throughout the car and I inhaled deeply, relishing the odor.

  As I drove I wracked my brain for some witty way to start a conversation. Repeatedly checking the rear-view mirror, I watched her staring out the window at the passing streets. It wasn’t until I turned into the upscale subdivision that she sat up straighter. Pulling into the long driveway of what I would classify as a mansion I turned to request the fare.

  She turned those dazzling eyes on me after she examined the contents of her purse. “I seem to have lost my money.”

  I should have been surprised. I wasn’t. “I see. Well, do you want to go inside and get some so you can pay me?”

  She looked from me to the house and back. “I don’t keep cash.”

  I still wasn’t surprised. “Okay.” My mind drifted back to that wad of cash tossed into my car the previous night. I was well ahead of the game and I sort of owed her for dumping her at the hospital. “Well, Happy New Year.”

  Without another word, she stepped out of the car and walked slowly to the front door of the house which was ablaze with lights. A Christmas tree, lights blinking in an epileptic induce rhythm, stood in the front window. I waited a moment to see her enter the house, curious to see who might greet her. She had to be freezing in the thirty-degree temperatures wearing only that sleek dress.

  I heard laughter in the street behind me and turned to see if a car was pulling in behind me, effectively blocking my exit. But the sounds came from across the road, cutting through the cold, still night. By the time I looked back at the front door, the front steps were empty and my mysterious lady had gone into the house.

  Once back in my parking spot behind the rooming house I was exhausted. My eyes stung from a night of headlights reflecting off snow-covered streets. Wasting no time, I hurried upstairs. Pulling my clothes off I dropped them a piece at a time on the floor leaving a trail from the door to the bed. Collapsing across it and pulling the covers up to my chin, I fell asleep.

  Part Three

  After counting my money, the next morning, I found I had another successful score and opted to treat myself to a night off, Chinese take-out, and a RedBox DVD rental. Having seen the Silver Lady, as I had come to think of her, I gave no thought to checking the news for any mention of her.

  I considered taking more time off but I knew myself well enough that if I did, the days would extend until I was in money trouble again. So, the following night, I grumbled and dragged myself down to my car. It turned out to be a good idea. With New Year’s Eve only two nights away, parties around town had increased. Top that off with a lot of airport trips as travelers hurried home before the ball drop and I scored big bucks.

  It wasn’t until after midnight that a couple in the back seat started trying to do the horizontal mambo turned my night upside down. The woman was climbing all over her very willing companion when she squealed.

  I almost hit the brakes as I glanced in the rear-view mirror. She was obviously on her knees in the back of the car and a glittery, silver evening bag hung from her hand, sparkling from the passing streetlights. “Looks like someone lost a bag.”

  It was a good thing I came up to a red light. My heart had picked up a loud, fast beat that echoed in my head. I recognized the bag at once. Turning in my seat I took it from her hands. “I know who dropped it.” My voice was a little shaky and a tad too loud. She opened her mouth to protest, no doubt wanting to reclaim it. The light turned green and her boy toy put his hand on the back of her head. Giving me a pointed “turn around and drive” look, he encouraged her to return to business.

  After dropping them off at one of the local hotels, I found a parking space and opened the bag. Inside was a small spray bottle of perfume and a tube of lipstick. There was no identification, no money, nothing. I debated what to do. I had her address on my travel log. I could return it to her. Or I could toss it. The scent of her perfume wafted up into my head and I remembered the pale skin, the long legs, and those penetrating blue eyes. Swearing at my own weakness I threw the car in drive and headed west.

  It was a little difficult finding the house. There was no party that night. The tree still sparkled in the window and a few lights shone from windows. Leaving my car idling in the driveway, I approached the front door nervously. Hesitating a moment, I took a deep breath and rang the bell. The tones of Big Ben echoed inside and after a couple of minutes, a woman opened the door. Wrapped in a flannel robe, short dark hair curling around her face, she was not the Silver Lady. She looked annoyed.

  “Um, I’m sorry to disturb you but the lady I dropped off the night before last left her purse in my car.” I held the bag up, hoping she would recognize it.

  Frown lines appeared between her brows. “What lady?”

  I went on to describe her, watching the woman’s expression grow more confused. Suddenly she was joined by a man. I recognized him right away. He wasn’t wearing his dress clothes, attired now in a tee shirt and jogging pants. But I’d know that face anywhere. He recognized me too. And he was not happy to see me.

  He stared at the bag like it was a snake, tongue darting in and out, ready to strike if he moved. “What’s going on?”

  The woman looked up at him. “Did anyone say they lost a purse the other night?”

  He was holding the door and his fingers tapped lightly as though he was trying to remember. I had a feeling he was trying to think of a response. “Hmm. I don’t think so.”

  I wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “I
dropped her off. Here. The night before last.”

  He knew I remembered him. We were on the same wavelength now. “Oh yeah. I think Stella said something about it. I can bring it to her tomorrow at the office.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t remember...”

  He cut her off and reached for the bag. I didn’t let go. “She can just contact me and identify it. It’s the company rules,” I lied smoothly. “Or you can give me her contact info and I’ll call her.”

  His eyes narrowed and I realized he was a big guy and obviously no stranger to the gym. “I can just take it to her. Save you the trouble.”

  “Oh, let him deal with it, Roger.” The wife, by now I’d figured out she was his Mrs., protested.

  Roger thought about arguing. He was outnumbered and Mrs. Roger’s vote carried a lot of weight. “Yeah, I’ll tell her tomorrow.” He started to close the door but I put my hand out to stop it.

  “Don’t you want my number?”

  A deep red began to rise from his throat up into his jaw. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Mrs. Roger huffed. She slipped beneath his arm and disappeared into the house. He glanced back to make sure she was out of earshot.

  “You got paid a lot. Now get the hell out of here and don’t come back.” His lips were tight and thin and the tapping fingers had clenched into a fist.

  “What about...?” I waved the purse.

  “Lose it,” he snarled as he stepped back and slammed the door.

  I stood a moment before going back to my car and tossing the bag onto the front passenger seat. He knew Silver Lady. Since she had been at their party and the wife was there, chances are she was no stranger to Mrs. Roger. Why didn’t the woman recognize the description of Silver Lady or the purse?

  Not one to leave well enough alone, I puzzled about it all the way back downtown. It was inevitable I’d find my way back to the street where I’d first seen Silver Lady. What I didn’t expect was to see her again. If my heart had been pounding when I came face to face with Roger, it practically exploded when I saw her standing at the curb. I pulled up beside her.