I wasn’t waiting around for that and skipped out before the dust settled.
I made it back to the rundown duplex I called a home just as the sun drifted behind some clouds. It was probably going to rain. I found myself looking forward to it. I could pop open the window and let the cooler temperatures act as free air conditioning.
It was only April, and already it was unseasonably warm. I’d been prepared for a spring blizzard, not blistering heat. The girls at school had taken the weather as an opportunity to show off as much skin as possible, while still following dress code.
Then there was me, dressed in winter gear, regardless of the season. I’d tried cutting the sleeves off of a pale lavender sweater, but the whole thing unraveled in the process. From then on, I’d stuck with rolling the sleeves up and dealing with it.
There was a note taped to the door, the edges flapping wildly in the breeze. I pulled it free and despite the heat, my blood turned to ice in my veins.
EVICTION NOTICE!
Ms. Monica McGuire,
You are hereby being notified to vacate the premises named above due to non-payment. You are required to vacate on or before May 1st, 2004, being ten days from the issuance of this notice. Failure to vacate will result in civil proceedings against you for unlawful detainer.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this urgent matter,
Oaklawn Duplex Management
Ten days.
I had ten days until I was homeless.
I had no job. No license. No birth certificate. Monica wasn’t really the type of mother to cut the crusts off your sandwiches after staying up late to scrapbook your latest achievements. When I was fifteen, I’d wanted to take driver’s ed and had approached her for my birth certificate and social security card. She’d looked at me as if I’d grown two heads before going back to staring blankly at the television screen.
That was two years ago and I was still no closer to finding my birth documents. Other kids my age were applying to colleges and preparing to take the SAT, while I was going nowhere. It didn’t help that this was the longest Monica had been gone either. She’d taken off in February, promising that she had a job lined up that was gonna get us back on our feet. I’d given her my last twenty dollars so she could take a cab.
Stupidly, I’d believed her…for a week or two. Then I knew that she’d fallen back into one of her three vices: men, booze, or meth. Once the realization hit, I’d been forced to resort to stealing again just to stay alive.
I never took more than I needed—a couple of dollars from several unlocked gym lockers would hold me over for a couple of days. It was also unlikely that someone would miss it enough to start searching for a thief.
I’d learned early on how to stretch my money and make it last. Dollar Tree carried everything from body wash to canned soup. I even managed to save enough to buy a couple of plates and cups, just in case I ever had company. I never did, but it was nice to know that I was prepared if the opportunity ever presented itself.
Now, it might’ve all been for nothing. I’d been able to survive with no water or electricity, but out on the streets, I’d never make it.
At least the management office would find that, while I couldn’t pay the rent, I’d at least kept the place nice and tidy.
I couldn’t worry about that now. I’d worry about it later.
I tugged my arms out of the sleeves of my sweater and chucked it across the back of the metal springs posing as a couch before sitting down to do my homework by flashlight. I just needed another month; another month to graduate and then figure out what the hell to do next.
I had almost all of it completed by the time the sky began to rumble and fat drops of rain fell angrily against the window. I stood up and stretched my back before opening a can of chicken noodle soup. It wouldn’t fill me up, but it would get rid of the hunger pangs that caused my stomach to cramp up.
I sipped the cold soup slowly, trying to trick my brain into thinking I was eating a much larger meal. I’d done it as long as I could remember. There were a couple of times when I was younger where CPS had put me in foster care. I remember both families being astonished by how much I could eat.
Inevitably, Monica would get her shit together just long enough to be granted custody again and I would miss the way my stomach had felt so full that I thought it might burst.
I finished my soup and slipped out of my jeans before lying down on the couch, trying to align my body on the parts of the couch that still held cushion. I was exhausted from both the lack of food and the fight from this morning.
I closed my eyes, still hearing Becca’s taunts.
“What’s the matter, White Trash? Don’t they have showers in the trailer park?”
She’d yanked my damp hair and continued when I’d remained silent, “I’d just bet that with hair that red, your mom fucked a leprechaun. That true, White Trash? You got a pot of gold we should know about?”
I didn’t know what was different about today, but for whatever reason, I just didn’t feel like taking the abuse anymore. I waited for her to pause long enough to take a breath and then I grabbed her by the throat and walked her backward toward the lockers, nothing but adrenaline coursing through my body. Her posse’s laughter ended, but not one of them made a move to help their leader.
No, they’d all run screaming from the locker room as Becca’s head connected against the metal with a dull thud. I could still hear the sound in my head.
The storm died down outside and I realized that I could still hear the low thud. A floorboard creaked in the back bedroom and I knew that I hadn’t imagined it. Someone was in the duplex with me.
My eyes flew open, but I remained frozen on the couch. If they were looking for anything valuable, they’d realize soon enough that they’d picked the wrong unit.
The footsteps grew louder, as if the intruder was making no attempt to hide his or her presence. I briefly tried to remember if I’d left the bedroom window open, for all the good it did me at this point. I quietly slipped my sweater back on and tried to make myself disappear into the couch.
Maybe they’d find whatever it was they seemed to be looking for and leave. There was movement in the small den and I realized belatedly that there was more than one person inside with me.
I willed my body to remain still, hoping that they might not see me in the dark.
“See, what’d I tell ya? Home alone.” I recognized the man’s voice as the neighbor two doors down. The smell of cigarette smoke only confirmed his identity.
Just as I realized their true intentions and decided to run, hands were on me, pinning me back down to the couch.
“She’s feisty, I’ll give her that. Shhhh…calm down, girly. We just wanna have some fun with ya.” The other man spoke softly in my ear, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.
I raked my fingernails down the side of his face in response and began kicking wildly. My neighbor’s hand came down across my cheekbone, stunning me.
That was when I began screaming.
The second man’s hand covered my mouth and my neighbor rocked back on his heels, laughing. “Scream all you want. No one’s gonna come running in here to save you.”
I bit down on his accomplice’s hand and tried to run for the door, but my neighbor caught me, pushing me face first into the dirty carpet. He held something sharp against my throat briefly before using it to cut through my sweater and bra.
He flipped me over onto my back and I saw the lust in both of their eyes. I knew what they were planning to do to me—I also knew they weren’t going to let me go after.
I raced through my available options. Even if I made it outside, my chances weren’t much better. I didn’t exactly live on Sesame Street.
There was a loud knock at the door and the second man crept over to look through the peephole, while my neighbor held the knife against my throat again.
“Don’t even think about screaming,” he hissed.
That w
as it. I knew I could either die after being raped and tortured or I could get it over with immediately. I inhaled and screamed loudly. My neighbor must’ve been expecting me to remain quiet because in his shock, he dropped the knife and I rolled away from him.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. The door imploded, with shards of wood going everywhere, and I dove behind the sofa for cover. I had no idea if the person at the door was my savior or just another junkie with a penchant for teenage girls.
“Lauren!” The voice called out and I froze. It was Mr. Santiago.
Why the hell was he here?
I slowly poked my head over the sofa, using the worn fabric to cover my exposed parts. His shoulders relaxed once he saw me. The room was empty with the storm raging outside and lightning illuminated our faces every few seconds. My attackers must’ve booked it once he kicked in the door. “Hey there, Mr. Santiago. Didn’t know you made house calls.”
He surveyed the small room before his eyes came back to mine. “Jesus, Mija. You’ve been living here?”
I nodded and he gestured toward me. “Why are you behind the sofa? Come out.”
I nodded again, this time a little more shakily, as I began to realize what I’d just escaped. “Um, I don’t have anything…” I trailed off, hoping he’d catch my meaning.
His eyes widened and then immediately narrowed in anger. “Did they rape you?”
I shook my head and responded, “No, you uh—you got here just in time, Mr. Santiago.”
He found a blanket lying near the couch and tossed it over to me. “Joshua, Lauren. Call me Joshua. We’re beyond formalities at this point.”
I wrapped the blanket around me and headed toward the small bedroom near the back of duplex to find something to wear. Joshua stood silently outside the door, waiting for me to change, before instructing me to grab anything I needed.
The night air was warm and slightly sticky from the recent storm, yet I shivered uncontrollably in the passenger seat of his Ford Taurus. I pulled the blanket from the floorboard and wrapped it around my shoulders as we pulled into a fast food parking lot. The smell of greasy, fried food wafted in through the vents and my stomach grumbled painfully.
Joshua didn’t ask questions; he just pulled through the drive-through and ordered three separate meals and watched me devour two of them like an animal.
I ate until my stomach felt as if it would explode before making eye contact with him again. His lips were pursed together as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. “How long has it been like this, Lauren?”
I swallowed a sip of Dr. Pepper before answering, “It’s always been like this. Monica’s a little neglectful, I guess.”
His eyes almost bugged out of his head. “A little neglectful? Mija, you were living in miseria absoluta and you call that a little neglectful? Jesus—what if I hadn’t shown up, huh? Those men—they would’ve raped you…or worse. Ay Dios mío!”
He was so worked up that he kept switching between the two languages, while I struggled to follow along. I closed my eyes and leaned against the window as he continued his tirade. Apparently, he’d shown up to visit with my mom about my behavior. He hadn’t been able to reach her by phone and didn’t trust me to give her the letter the school sent home.
I cracked one eye open and looked over when he paused to take a breath. “Can you take me back home now?”
He put the car in reverse. “No, I’m not taking you back to that hellhole. You’ve been going without electricity or running water—that’s unacceptable. No, you’re coming home with me until we figure out something else. I’ll keep you safe, Mija—you have my word.”
I was too exhausted to argue, so I settled for a small nod and went back to staring out the passenger window. It wouldn’t last. Monica would get her shit together long enough to get me back and I’d be right back where I started.
It didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted though.
Chapter Two
2001, age 18
“You can’t surf for shit. Didn’t you say you grew up around the water?” The kid laughed before pushing his damp dark hair out of his face as I struggled to get back on my feet.
Ever since I got my license two years ago, I’d been making the drive from Beaumont to Galveston anytime I was free. I’d seen the kid in front of me almost every time I’d shown up. He worked at A-Frame Surf on Seawall and had sold me my first board.
So, maybe I’d stretched the truth when I said that I’d grown up on the water. There’d been a playa lake near our house, so that counted for something, right?
Mom and I had been down here for going on five years. Almost five whole years without my father. Grey had shown up in the middle of the night and moved us out of Lubbock, but I hadn’t held out hope of my old man not finding us. I’d been half awake as he’d lifted my lanky thirteen-year-old body out of bed and carried me out to an unfamiliar pickup truck.
Once he had me settled in the back seat, he’d turned to my mom and drawn out a map of where she needed to go. I pretended to be asleep as he explained which towns to avoid on our route. My mom had started to cry and Grey pulled her into a hug.
“Betsy, he won’t find you—I’ll make sure of it. He’s going to be gone on a run for the next three nights. Once he gets back, we’ll pretend to look into it, but he’ll never be in the same town as you or Mikey again.”
I remembered thinking that he was protecting us from the bad guys. It wasn’t until we’d settled into our new home that I realized he was protecting us from my father. I hadn’t seen the point to it. I’d already witnessed the murder of two people; how much worse could it get? My old man was hell bent on me turning out just like him and working my way up in the club, while Grey apparently didn’t think I was cut out for club life.
My mom had become a new person almost overnight. Grey had supplied a house and enough money to ensure that we didn’t have to worry about anything. So, she’d joined a women’s group from church and focused on making friends in our new community.
I heard a strange noise when I was up in my room doing homework one rainy Saturday. When I crept downstairs, I found her humming to herself as she baked pies in the kitchen. Flour coated almost everything, but she had a big smile on her face nonetheless. I’d stared at her for what seemed like hours, certain that she’d been abducted by aliens. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen her smile so freely.
We’d only been in Beaumont for a little over a year when we got word that Grey had been killed. There weren’t a lot of details included in the anonymous letter—just that he’d been gunned down by a rival club member. We were told that he’d left us money, which would be wired to us over the next few days.
My mother had dropped the letter onto the kitchen counter and promptly disappeared for the rest of the evening. I’d sat on the stool nearby, reading the words over and over until I knew them by heart. I didn’t cry—I knew he wouldn’t have wanted me to fall apart. He’d have tucked a finger under my chin and told me to be brave for my mama. I’d wondered if Kate and her baby sister, Dakota, were being brave like me.
My mother emerged from her bedroom around lunch-time the next day, her eyes bloodshot. She hadn’t said a word before pulling me into her arms and rocking me on the couch. I think she was afraid that my dad would find us without Grey there to misdirect him.
“You gone deaf from that fall, Mike? I’m talking to you.” I tried to recall the kid’s name—Patrick. Or was it Roy? Either way, the guy had been a royal pain in my ass from day one. Rich little shit thinking he owned the beach.
“Hey, don’t listen to him, Mike. The guy’s a poser.” My best friend, David, panted as he dragged his board up on the damp sand beside us. He shook his head like a dog, sending water spraying off him in every direction.
His mother was in the same church group as mine. They’d introduced us when I was thirteen and he was fifteen and we’d been inseparable ever since. His dad, John, was in construction and reminded me a lot of Gr
ey—down to the tattoos on his arms.
David was the most unassuming person I’d ever met. He didn’t ask about my life in Lubbock, he just wanted to know if I had any good video games. After that, I was in.
He graduated and began working for his dad, but we still hit the beach together every chance we got. I’d graduated a couple of months ago, so I knew my days of freeloading off my mom were coming to an end. I had to enjoy every last moment of it.
“Hey, Mike—you looked good out there,” Sadie tossed over her shoulder as she walked past with her board tucked under her arm and my heart immediately started pounding in response. She could’ve walked past and told me I couldn’t surf for shit and I still would’ve been following her like a damn puppy.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. “Yeah? You almost kept up with me this time.”
Roy/Patrick made a noise of disgust and stormed off down the beach. Sadie watched him go before turning back around to face me. “You sure talk a good game, but could you ever back it up?”
David shook his own head in laughter before heading toward the seawall. “You’re on your own here, dude. I’ll meet you back at the truck.”
“There’s not much I’m afraid of, if that’s what you’re asking.” I snatched my towel up off the beach and casually tossed it over my shoulder. Smooth, Mike. Nice and smooth.
Sadie’s hair was starting to dry and the salt from the ocean left it with a slight wave. “Alright, tough guy. You got a longboard?”
Without missing a beat, I responded, “I can get one. Why? —you takin’ me on a date?”
She shook her head. “Let’s just see how you do with this before we get ahead of ourselves. Meet me here at six-thirty tomorrow morning?”
I agreed, still completely unaware of what I’d just signed up for.
“C’mon, you motherfucker.” I panted as I paddled in front of the perfect wave. I’d been getting my ass kicked by these all day—not at all what I needed when I was trying to impress Sadie.
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