Getting Old Can Hurt You

by Rita Lakin

  One week before

  ‘Well, that’s that.’ The three sisters were standing outside the Steiner house. Tori handed Marilyn the key to the front door. Tori was dressed for travel, her style: tee shirt, shorts, Dodgers baseball cap, sneakers and backpack. Being Los Angeles, the weather was fine.

  ‘I can’t believe you found all that money around the house.’ Marilyn was in awe.

  ‘Yeah, mostly stuck in pages of thirty-year-old Reader’s Digests. Also dug some of it out of flour canisters along with disgusting weevil bugs. Yuk. Even picked up a few hundreds taped behind the toilet seat tanks. I doubt if I discovered all of it. You might do some searching, yourself.’

  That excited Shirley. ‘I’m game for looking. I bet you didn’t look between the mattresses.’

  Tori shakes her head. ‘Unbelievable. All that hidden money and we were living on food stamps. Hardly ever money for me to buy lunch at school. Crazy people.

  Marilyn agrees. ‘I guess now we’ll never know why.’

  ‘So, you got my story straight? I don’t want the cops looking for a runaway. But unless someone asks, don’t volunteer anything.’

  Marilyn recited, ‘The story is: You’re going to live with our grandmother, Ida. Even though all her mail came from Fort Lauderdale, lie and say she lives in Miami. I hope nobody questions the fact we have never been in touch with her since she ran off and left us.’

  Marilyn. ‘Your secret will be safe with me.’

  ‘I don’t ever intend to be anywhere near Grandma Ida, unless something goes wrong. I prefer that no one knows where I’m going.’ She poked her fist in Shirley’s stomach. ‘And make sure you keep your mouth shut.’

  Shirley pulled away, rubbing the hurt belly. ‘I said I wouldn’t tell. Stop hitting me!’

  ‘You’re the weak link. I don’t trust you.’

  ‘They can tear my hair out, pull my teeth out, I still won’t tell. I swear! And what’s a weak link?’

  Marilyn shook her head. ‘What they are you talking about?’

  Shirley shrugged. ‘Any old they. Cops? And what’s the big secret anyway? Are you really going to Florida?’

  Marilyn and Tori exchanged glances. Shirley, who was known for having a big mouth, should never be expected to keep a secret.

  Tori glares at Shirley. ‘Get this through your head. I’m not going to Florida, I’m going to New Jersey. I was just making that up. Got it? Got it!’

  ‘Stop yelling. I got it. Okay, you’re going to New Jersey.’

  Marilyn handed Shirley the house key. ‘Here. Go inside and look for some money. Grab some more dishes. Go shopping!’

  Shirley grinned, her greedy eyes twinkling, grabbed the key and unlocked the door. ‘Yay. Better than Walmart,’ she called out at them.

  They waited until she was out of hearing and sight.

  ‘What a numbskull,’ Marilyn commented.

  The two sisters sat down on the doorstep. ‘So aren’t you going to tell me how you’ll get there? Are you going to fly? You’ve got enough money.’

  ‘I haven’t decided. I’ve never seen any of the country, and I’ve never been on my own before. Maybe I’ll hitchhike. Don’t even start – skip the warning about hitchhiking. It might be fun. Or I’ll catch a bus. Or fly later, somewhere along the way. As for you, go to a lawyer. I gave you all their papers. You should make a few bucks on this dump of a house. Their car is a joke. I suggest hiring a cleaning crew. Maybe dynamite would do a better job.’

  ‘Never mind worrying about me. Are you sure you aren’t going on a wild-goose chase? I listened to Mom’s jabbering, but she didn’t make any sense.’

  ‘She did to me. The photo was taken on their wedding day so she sang “Here Comes the Bride”. To tell me that. On the back of the card someone wrote The Woodleys, Ft. Lauderdale.’

  ‘What the hell was Hah Hah and Lie Lie?’

  ‘There were two couples in the photo. I remember long ago, in another prison visit, she told me about the good friends that were their witnesses at their wedding. She told me they lived in Fort Lauderdale. She knew I’d put it together. But I don’t remember their first names.’

  ‘Wow. I never got any of that. But I still don’t understand how you could believe Dad was alive.’

  ‘When I was very little, before Grandma Ida ran away, we visited Mom, and Mom told me a story.

  ‘Grandma Ida was furious with her for making up such a fairy tale. And she and Mom had a terrible fight. But Mom knew I’d believe it and remember it. About a mommy and daddy who loved each other and said if anything bad happened, and they got separated, the little girl in the story was to grow up and find her daddy. Her daddy would wait for her forever. In a place with a lot of palm trees.’ She paused, saddened. ‘Grandma Ida left us right after that visit.’

  ‘Yippee!’ Shirley was back outside again, announcing that her arms were filled with all kinds of good stuff, kicking a box with her feet. ‘Got a load of great things. I’ll never have to buy a dish or pot again.’

  Tori shrugged. ‘Better spray everything with disinfectant before you take any of that crap into your house.’

  ‘Let’s go, already,’ she called, kicking her box down towards Marilyn’s car.

  The two sisters got up. ‘Don’t you want me to drive you somewhere? Anywhere?’

  Tori shook her head.

  ‘Good luck,’ Marilyn said tearfully, ‘and let me know what happens. I really do love you.’

  ‘I will. But I’m sure it won’t be for a while. I love you, too.’

  They hugged, clutching one another, tightly.

  ‘Come on, already,’ Shirley whined, leaning her body against the car door to keep her box of treasures safe.

  Marilyn walked toward her. ‘Say goodbye, stupid.’

  Shirley twisted her neck to see, calling out to Tori. ‘Goodbye stupid.’

  Marilyn smacked her on her head.

  ‘What? What’s that for?’

  Tori waved as Marilyn drove away. And now for her adventure

  SEVENTEEN

  Tori’s Story – On the Road

  Three days before

  Tori climbed down out of the cab of the beat-up green truck. That is, she guessed it must have been green years ago. Now it was a scratched metal mess brought on by hot weather and desert sand.

  ‘Adios, Señor, muchas gracias,’ she said looking back up at the elderly Mexican farmer who had brought her along the last thirty miles without his speaking a word of English, with her trying out her high school Spanish. She hoped her goodbye was ‘Tex-Mex talk,’ given that her road trip on the I-10 was taking her deep south along the Mexican border.

  The farmer drove away, turning his truck up the dirt road next to where he let her off.

  Tori hand-brushed her clothes, as best she could, to get rid of straw that had filled the truck’s front seat, as well as in back where the pigs were riding. She sniffed herself, hoping she didn’t smell too much like pig, given that she had slept in a barn with them last night. She grinned. She loved her first road trip ever. She was having a wonderful time. Mile after mile, her dismal memories of Grandma and Grandpa Steiner were fading away.

  She looked at the sign up ahead: 22 miles to La Mesa, New Mexico, population 728. She had taken a bus from LA to Phoenix, Arizona, then decided on hitching for a while. She’d already covered about 300 miles. So far, nice folks had given her rides, including Farmer Nuñez. Maybe, when she got to New Orleans, she’d fly the rest of the way. It would have been nice to stop at famous places like the Grand Canyon or maybe Carlsbad Caverns, but she had a purpose pushing her on. Florida would get her to her dad, she was sure.

  Now, she wanted to get to La Mesa, find a motel and take a shower. Whew, those pigs had been smelly.

  Her thumb went out and she settled down to wait. Hopefully not too long, since it was noon and plenty hot. She sat on a rock on the edge of the road, sucked whatever little water was still in her canteen. Her shorts were sticking to her body, and she was wondering
what she might do if she didn’t get picked up soon. There was no shade anywhere.

  Just when she thought she could die here in this sauna, and panic was beginning to set in, thankfully, something was slowing down. She jumped up, waving wildly. It was a bus. Certainly not from any transportation company. It reminded her of photos of buses left over from the hippie 1960s. Playful cartoon drawings covered the sides, in bright paint colors, of guitars, horns and keyboards and some kind of name: BAND OF L-BROS, whatever that meant.

  The door opened and a guy came out. She quickly summed him up: twenties, tall, skinny, dirty blond hair, straggly beard, jeans, tee shirt, and cowboy boots. Definitely cute. ‘Hi, there,’ he said to her, ‘you look about ready to melt.’

  ‘Have you got air-conditioning?’ she gasped.

  ‘Sure do. And a lot of hot air as well.’ He grinned. A joke.

  ‘So, what’s with the name? You musicians?’ Tori pointed to the drawings on the bus.

  ‘That’s us, we’re a country band. We’re the L-Bros. Four brothers with L names. I’m Luke. Inside, with their noses pressed against the glass, that there’s Lonny, Larry and Lubbock.’

  ‘Lubbock?’

  ‘The accidental result of a night of too much boozing by Ma and Pa. They were in Lubbock, Texas, at the time.’

  She glanced up at the front windshield to see three young guys who resembled Luke making silly faces and waving at her. She waved back.

  ‘The dumb-looking one on the left is Lubbock.’

  ‘I need a lift,’ she said. ‘Desperately, before I die of the heat.’

  ‘Well, we can do light lifting.’

  Both smiled at his humor.

  ‘I was hoping for a ride to La Mesa.’

  ‘No problema, we’re on our way there, too. Got a gig tonight at the Hotel del Frontera.’

  Suddenly they were aware of a car careening toward them at full speed. A black SUV. Coming to a full stop behind the bus. Two guys jumped out.

  Again Tori did her quickie review. Older guys, forties maybe fifties. City guys, black suits, city clothes. Maybe businessmen or tough guys. Someone else behind the wheel. She couldn’t see him through all the tinted plate glass.

  One of the men spoke. ‘We saw you from back there. Figured you needed a ride. Be glad to drive you wherever you want.’

  ‘Thanks, I think maybe I already have a ride.’

  Luke said, ‘We offer beer and sandwiches.’ He winked at her.

  The men, confused, looked at one another. The talking man tried a suggestion. ‘We have champagne. Chilled.’

  Tori jumped up in glee. ‘This is fun. Do I hear any other offers?

  Luke was enjoying her game. He pointed. ‘Looka da tope guys.’

  She nodded, knowing the teen code for clueless and totally dopey.

  Luke air-kissed her. ‘We have music. We even write our own songs. L-Bros will keep you cool, fed and entertained.’

  The city men exchanged baffled looks. The talker opened the car door and had a brief conversation with the unseen driver. He shrugged, turned back and said, ‘We have satellite radio …?’

  Tori and Luke burst out giggling. She raised her finger and pointed it back and forth at each them. ‘Eeenie, meenie, minee mo.’

  The SUV men didn’t know what to say or do.

  With that, she handed Luke her backpack, then jumped into the bus. Luke called out to the two men, ‘Hasta la vista, fellas.’ Hopped on, and shut the door behind him.

  The bus took off with Tori and the L-Bros, laughing.

  Was she imagining it? She thought she heard someone shout ‘Tori.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Tori’s Story – The Boys in the Band that Night

  Tori had never known such happiness. Here she was seated in the comfy lounge of the Hotel del Frontera. The lounge and lobby, striking in dark paneled wood, were filled with Mexican art, paintings of early twentieth-century Western and Mexican scenes. She people-watched with delight. The men wore mostly white shirts and white pants and the women wore flared cotton skirts and off-the-shoulder embroidered blouses in bright colors. Both men and women wore cowboy boots.

  Sipping a Coke, she listened to her new best friends onstage. All four L-Bros played different-size guitars and Luke was lead singer. Right now they were singing a song they wrote, called ‘Riding on the I-10’, about a lonesome cowboy who wanted to go home again, but he’s not sure his wife will let him in. The only one who seemed to love him was his faithful dog, Moe.

  The guys were fun to be with. They’d helped her check into a room in the closest motel, the same one the boys were staying at, the Frontera being much too expensive. She would have figured out how by herself, but they made it easy for her. Lots of teasing that she was welcome to share their rooms. They were just being playful. They took her out to a Mexican dinner. She got to eat the best, greasiest burrito con carne ever. When they brought her a beer she started to object. ‘Hey, I’m still a kid.’ But it turned out to be fake beer, non-alcoholic, a brand called O’Doul’s. It was cold and delicious.

  She was finally out in the real world and she loved it.

  The evening spun around all too fast. She wished it would never end. The boys played one set after another and sat with her when they had breaks. Couples danced to their songs. It was a dance she’d never seen on Dancing with the Stars on TV. Lonny told her it was line dancing.

  When they quit playing at one a.m., they chatted as they walked her to her door. Luke informed her they were leaving early tomorrow for their next gig in Houston.

  Larry said, ‘Hey, girl, how about you stay with us and ride on as our groupie.’

  Lonny added mournfully, ‘We only got one groupie so far.’

  ‘What’s a groupie do?’ She had heard the word and had a feeling she knew what it meant. Not good. Drugs, liquor and sex came to mind. She’d led a sheltered life, but she read a lot, plus TV; these were her education.

  Lubbock chimed in, ‘You go everywhere we go and your job is to sit in the audience and applaud us real hard and generally adore us.’

  Lonnie added, ‘And then there’s the sex …’

  Luke clapped his hand over his brother’s mouth. ‘Never mind, clam up.’

  The brothers laughed.

  Luke took her hand and walked Tori to her room, which was two doors from theirs. ‘Ignore him. Lonnie’s got a big mouth. He’s just messin’ with you.’

  She took her key out and he put his hand over hers. ‘How about we have a nightcap in your room together? Soft drinks, of course.’

  Tori shook her head. She teased, ‘I’m jailbait. I’m only fifteen.’

  ‘I coulda swore you were eighteen,’ he also teased. ‘You coulda lied about your age.’

  Shocked, ‘No, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Of course you couldn’t.’

  She started to open the door. The room was dark.

  ‘I could still tuck you in.’

  She was sorely tempted, but she knew better. ‘Nice try, but nope.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll settle for breakfast. Early, around six a.m. And if you want to ride along with us to Houston, that’s good, too.’

  ‘That’s a deal. Breakfast and the ride. Count me in.’

  He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked off, whistling.

  Tori entered her room smiling.

  The smile faded as someone shoved her and knocked her off her feet.

  The light was turned on and she looked up from the floor to see a face she knew. ‘Hi, sweets, we meet again. I told you we would.’

  NINETEEN

  Tori’s Story – The Guys in the SUV

  Tori stared in disbelief. ‘Mr Dix, what the hell?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s me, your ma’s very own special prison guard,’ he said, pulling her up from the floor.

  Tori stared at the two other men. She recognized them as the ones who came out of the SUV, offering champagne and satellite radio. It was funny then. Not funny now.

  She glanced around her r
oom. Her backpack had been tossed, and everything in it dumped on her bed. One of the guys was sprawled amidst her belongings. The other one now leaned against the door, arms folded. They’d seemed kind of rough outside, but here they looked downright dangerous.

  ‘So, Dix, you were the one behind the wheel of the SUV.’

  ‘That were me, chickadee.’

  ‘What are you doing in my room? What are you doing here at all?’

  ‘Don’t hafta scrunch up your pretty forehead. I’ll fill you in.’

  Tori’s mind was racing a mile a minute. Whatever was going down was trouble. How was she going to get out of this? She needed to run. But how?

  She guessed Dix was going to do most of the talking.

  Dix nodded and one of his men searched her. She squirmed and cursed, but he patted her down. Good thing she thought to hide the photo in her shoe this time.

  The guys nodded back. She was clean.

  ‘Might as well sit yourself down. It’s gonna be a while.’

  Tori tried to figure out what might help her, but there was nothing in sight she could use as a weapon. No use throwing a towel at him or the bible from the nightstand. She hadn’t noticed it before, but just about everything else in the room was nailed down. The TV. The bedside lamps. Even the small night tables were bolted to the floor. Was management really worried about those crappy things being stolen?

  Dix waited patiently. She sure as hell wasn’t going to sit on the bed near that creep. She sat down slowly on the only chair in the room, a rocker with wagon wheels for arms.

  ‘There, that’s nice, make yourself comfy.’

  He bent close to her, in her face. ‘Good thing your cowboy pal didn’t come in, he’d be DOA by now.’ The two partners laughed. ‘I’m gonna tell you a story. But first let me intro my buddies. The guy sittin’ on your stuff is Hicks. The fella mindin’ the door is Dockson. We’ve been buddies for a long time. Show the girl our tats.’

  Each of the three men lifted their shirtsleeves to show their tat inkings: Hickory, Dickory, Doc. ‘Get it? Hicks, Dix and Dockson.’

  ‘Yeah, cool.’ Tori rolled her eyes. What the hell was going on?