Splash

by Kristen Kelly

  Didn’t these people have anything better to do? Just give the guy a burger!

  Then Jimmy got up. He threw off his hat, readying for a fight. Wild as a skittish colt, he pulled back one arm and took a swing at the guard.

  The guard was quicker. He jumped out of Jimmy’s way, laughing.

  Then another guard showed up. He pulled out a club and slapped it in his hand. Jimmy took a swing at him too but missed. A large hand rested on the Jimmy’s head, holding him in place. Jimmy’s arms flailed in mid-air looking like a wounded bird.

  The next thing Val knew, a policeman was on the scene. “What’s going on here?” the cop demanded. “What are you trying to do to this guy?”

  The guard threw up his hands in surrender and took a step back when he saw the cop. “He doesn’t want to pay is all. He’s a thief and a vagrant and it’s not right we give him free food all the time. This crap has gotta stop I tell you.”

  Jimmy staggered to his feet and almost feel but the policeman caught him. He helped him to a chair. “Just wanna samich,” Jimmy said.

  “Get the guy a sandwich,” said the policeman.

  “But…”

  “You heard him,” said the woman.

  “Sure, as soon as he shows me his money,” said the guard.

  “Aint got no money,” said Jimmy. “But if you wanna piece of me…” He made to rise, eyes blazing and barring crooked teeth. He lunged toward the guard but the policeman caught him by the coat tails reeling him back. Jimmy looked up at the policeman, startled.

  “Now you keep acting this way I’m going to have to arrest you,” said the cop. He looked at the manager. “This is nothing that a few dollars won’t fix, right? Why don’t we just get this guy some lunch and call it a day. All right?”

  Behind him, Jimmy sneered at the guard who stood with his hands on his hips in front of a life-sized mannequin of Ronald McDonald. The guard’s face flamed red and he looked as if he could kill Jimmy. Jimmy stuck his tongue out at him.

  A girl with red hair placed a McDonald’s bag, two drinks, and a chocolate sundae on the counter. Jimmy’s eyes lit up and he licked his lips.

  “Hey, bum!” yelled the guard. Jimmy turned around.

  The guard gave him the finger.

  Apparently that was enough for poor Jimmy.

  Several patrons jumped out of the way as Jimmy tackled the guard.

  The two men went full-force against the McDonald mannequin which careened off balance and then smacked into the corner of a soda machine. Headless, the dummy wobbled forward and back and then finally hit the floor with a thud.

  Seeing, his chance, the guard ran behind the counter. He grabbed all the food and pitched it in the trash.

  “Look,” someone shouted. Jimmy had picked up the clown head. Holding the head like a pitcher holds a baseball, he leaned back and lobbed it forward. It sailed through the air, hitting the computer driven menu sign overhead, cracking it down the middle.

  “Oh shit,” Val said covering her hands with her mouth.

  The guard had Jimmy in a headlock when he tried to rescue his discarded food. The wrestling began all over again.

  “Enough!” yelled the policeman.

  “What the hell..!,” yelled a fat guy dressed in white. He had entered from the back door of the restaurant. Under one arm was the clown’s head. Placing it on the counter, he pulled the two men apart. “I try to take a ten minute nap and all hell breaks loose! Look what you assholes did to my restaurant?” He frowned down at the head. “My Ronnie! Look what you’ve done to my Ronnie! Who’s going to pay for all this?”

  To Val’s astonishment, the guard took out his wallet. “I aint paying more than my half though,” he said. He took out several bills and waved them in the air.

  “Hold onto that cash,” said the cop. “We don’t know how much…”

  “Now wait a minute,” said the manager shuffling his big belly around the counter. “Let’s not be hasty. I didn’t even say if I wanted to press charges yet.”

  “Don’t you?” asked the cop.

  “Well I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Depends on what kind of a deal we can come up with.”

  “I aint paying more than my share,” repeated the guard.

  The cop looked at Jimmy who said nothing.

  “How much do you want?” asked the guard.

  The manager turned. He looked up at the menu screen and scratched his head. I think we can replace the glass but poor Ronnie here….” He pointed toward the mannequin. “He’s…he’s like one of the family.

  You’ve got to be kidding.

  “How’s five grand?” said the guard.”

  “Uh, yeah. That ought do it.”

  The guard pulled out a wad of bills from his pocket. “Okay, I’ll give you twenty five hundred then,” he said.

  “What!” said the manager, clearly enraged.

  “I said I would pay my half. Not a penny more.” His eyes narrowed toward Jimmy, who slunk into another chair. The man looked exhausted. After all, he hadn’t eaten since..well who knows when his last meal was. He had to be broke too. That was a given.

  “Are you pressing charges on this one?” the cop asked. He grabbed hold of Jimmy’s coat and inclining his head.

  Tears fell from Jimmy’s eyes. Val’s heart ached for the man and she almost cried too.

  The manager took a deep breath. “I suppose so. Sorry, Jimmy. A man’s gotta pay his bills though.”

  “Then I guess you’re under arrest,” said the cop. He took the handcuffs off his belt and Jimmy’s eyes grew huge as shining glass balls.

  “No. No. Please officer. I have a dog. I have a dog. Who will feed him if I’m not there?”

  “Sorry Jimmy. I’ve no choice.” He stared into Jimmy’s eyes and Val could see that the cop was touched too. “Unless there’s someone here who wants to take up a collection or something. I really don’t want to arrest you, Jimmy.” The cop scanned the room. “Anyone?”

  Most of the patrons looked away and not a single one volunteered so much as a penny.

  “Sorry, Jimmy,” the cop repeated. “Wish I didn’t have to do this but…” He opened up one cuff ready to slap it on Jimmy’s wrist.

  “No!” Val heard herself shouting.

  Everyone turned and stared in Val’s direction. She’d been standing on a chair the whole time.

  “I mean… can’t he work it off? Or…or something? I mean look at him? He doesn’t have a pot to piss in, let alone twenty five hundred dollars.”

  The cop looked at Louie and then back at Jimmy. His lips thinned.

  Val jumped off the chair.

  “Does he look like working material?” asked Louie. “Don’t you think if he could work, we wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place?”

  “Good point,” said the cop.

  “Ha!” shouted the guard. “And here’s my twenty-five-hundred right now.” He handed Louie the cash. The police officer placed a cuff on Jimmy’s wrist. “Sorry, pal.”

  Jimmy burst into tears.

  “Stop,” Val shouted. “I’ll pay it.”

  “What was that?” asked Louie.

  “I said I’ll pay it.” She was probably going to regret this but she just couldn’t see Jimmy arrested. Plus he had a dog! She couldn’t let the dog suffer too.

  She unzipped her purse and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. For a minute she froze. She looked at the cop, the hands on her purse shaking.

  “You all right?” asked the cop.

  “Fine.” Twenty five hundred dollars! Twenty five hundred dollars! She’d never in her life spent twenty five hundred dollars. Ever. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She pulled out her wallet, and tried to find Turner’s credit card but dropped the rest of her papers all over the floor. What the hell was wrong with her? This was going to be fine. Just fine. She’d already used one of the cards and nothing happened. Turner was a rich guy. He probably had so many cards, he didn’t even know what he had. Retrieving a Discover card, s
he held it upright. “Put the twenty-five-hundred…” She swallowed down her guilt. “On this one.”

  The policeman handed the card to Louie who gave her an uplifted brow. “You sure, miss? That’s a hell of a lotta money and to tell you the truth, this low-life aint worth a penny of it.”

  “I’m sure. Just do it..”

  “All right. If you say so. Just give me a second to see if there’s enough left on it.”

  “Oh, go right ahead,” Val said trying to sound like she spent this sort of money every day. “ I assure you. There’s loads of credit on it.”

  Louie stepped behind a cash register. He slid the Discover card through the credit card machine. Pausing, his face contorted. Something in his expression made Val’s blood run cold.

  Louie looked up, his face a mask of tension. “Um…”

  “Is there a problem?” Val asked.

  “Um, no. No, problem.” He raised his gaze toward the police officer. “Could you come here a moment?”

  The cop stepped behind the counter. He looked down at the machine and then back up toward Val. “I see,” he said. He walked back to the other side of the counter. “Miss, I’m afraid you’re under arrest.”

  “What! Why?”

  “I’m charging you with grand theft larceny.” He placed her in cuffs.

  Chapter 12

  Four hours later

  Val had never been more mortified in her life than when she saw Turner wearing low slung jeans, a skin-tight T-shirt, and work boots strutting across the tiled floor, heels pounding with deliberation. Val’s heart clenched. She dropped her gaze until he was right in front of her.

  “Oh there you are!” he said, as if he’d been looking all over for her. “My poor darling. I came soon as they called me.” He turned to a TSA agent in a bright blue uniform and then back toward Val. He gave her a secret wink. “Will you ever forgive me, sweetheart? And to think this is all my fault for not alerting the credit companies like you begged me. Wow. What a screw up I am. I can’t believe I did it again.”

  “Again?” asked one of the agents.

  “Oh man, I’ll never live this one down.”

  “You know this woman, Mr. Howe?”

  “Uh, yes. Yes I do. But she probably won’t want anything to do with me after this terrible blunder.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “It’s simple, actually. I lent Val my cards so she could…um…she could um…” He looked at Val with a knowing look, obviously hoping she would provide some of the missing details of the story.

  “Go shopping!” Val announced. “See.” She held up an arm. The bag with the jeans dangled from her wrist. An embarrassing acidic feeling settled in her gut. “And we um…forgot to uh….to uh…” This time she stared at Turner, searching for more of the plot points.

  “And I forgot to put her on the cards sooooo….”

  The agents looked to Val who shrugged helplessly. “So how was I to know?”

  “Yeah, So how was she to know?” Turner repeated.

  “I mean, who would suspect before I used them…I just assumed and you know my uh…my uh…”

  “Husband. I’m her husband,” Turner supplied. “Oh darling, I am so sorry to put you in this predicament.” He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, the heat of his body warming her. Val leaned back against him, soaking up the warmth. She may as well get what she could out of the situation.

  “You see officer, we’re newly married and I just forgot.” Turner said.

  “Yeah, he just forgot,” Val murmured. “And you will never forget that again! Will you, darling?” Val said, playing it up for all it was worth.

  “Never,” Turner said quickly. “I’m just a big dunderhead. That’s what I am. A big dunderhead. I marry the most beautiful woman on the planet and I don’t even remember to put her on my credit cards. Bad enough I reported them stolen.”

  “Awe, no you’re not,” said Val. “Besides, I’ll whip you into shape by our first anniversary.”

  “Mmm. I like whips.”

  “Ahem,” said one of the agents.

  Turner laughed. “So you see boys, there’s no crime here. No crime at all. It’s just one big misunderstanding.”

  “Yeah, no crime,” Val repeated. God, he was good at this sort of stuff. He deserved and Oscar. No a goddammed Emmy. Or was that for music? Whatever. He was so damn convincing she almost believed him, herself. Home free and I don’t think he hates me either. How can a girl get so lucky? Until….

  Val’s face nearly dropped to the floor when she saw who was coming down the hallway, his face ashen and grey toting the leash of a big white Siberian husky. They weren’t alone, either.

  Uh oh.

  Turner saw them too. Quickly, he pounced on Diego, pulling the shorter man into a ferocious bear hug. “Bro! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you day and night to thank you.”

  Diego shot Turner a deep scowl. He pulled back. “Thank me,” he said through gritted teeth. “ For what?” The words were spoken with more animosity than if he had met a rabid dog. He glared at Valentina. “What the hell…”

  Again, Turner pulled Diego into a full-body embrace. He took something from his pocket and pressed it in the shorter man’s palm.

  Diego glanced down at his hand. It was a hundred dollar bill. “What’s this? You trying to bribe me, Amigo?” He backed up hurriedly. His face brightened when he caught sight of Mr. Goldstein. Two armed policemen strode by his side. “This guy is trying to bribe me,” he called out. “And with my own wife!”

  “Wife!” exclaimed the TSA officers in unison.

  “I thought she was your wife,” said a female agent with frosted hair and glasses. She gave Turner a stern look. “Something fishy here. I don’t like it.”

  Turner glanced from left to right. The agents. The policemen. Mr. Goldstein from Immigration. The dog. Stroking the two-day growth on his chin, he appeared to have made a decision. He pulled Diego into his brawny arms once more and leaned into his ear. This time the man looked terrified when he released him.

  “Is she your wife or isn’t she?” demanded one of the officers.

  “Um, um, um…” the Mexican stuttered. He swallowed hard. “My…ex-wife, gentlemen,” he corrected. “Valentina is my…ex-wife.” Reaching out, he shook Turner’s hand profusely, his face mirrored in terror Then he turned to the TSA officers. “ My amigo here just wanted to thank me for stepping aside is all. They are married as he said.”

  “Not so fast,” said Mr. Goldstein.

  Valentina’s stomach lurched. Now she was in for it. There was no going back. She’d be deported or worse. Maybe they’d throw her in jail. She wouldn’t like jail. She was too pretty, had too much long hair. Didn’t convicts like women with long hair? Maybe she should cut her hair first. Yeah, that’s it. She’d cut her hair and then there would be no problems with her jail time. Oh, why did this sort of thing always happen to her?

  “So is this the girl?” asked one of the police officers.

  “Yeah, that’s her. She’s Diego’s wife.”

  “Ex,” chimed in the three TSA officers.

  “How’s that?” asked one of the cops.

  Turner stepped in front of Val, literally shielding her from the rest. “Ex-wife. She’s his ex-wife and this whole thing with the credit cards is all cleared up. We won’t be needing your, gentlemen.”

  Mr. Goldstein narrowed his eyes. “I’ve heard that one before. What’s this about a credit card?”

  “Well I forgot to put my new wife’s name on the cards and then I was stupid enough to report them missing so as you can see there’s no…”

  Mr. Goldstein screwed up his face and pulled at his beard. “I don’t care about credit cards. Do I look like I care about credit cards? Did I even ask you about a credit card, son?”

  “No, but…”

  “Right. I’ll ask the questions her from now on.”

  Turner’s face flattened. “Whatever you say.” A slice of anger
coiled in Val’s stomach. This was all her fault, not Turner’s.

  “You’ve sent us on quite a wild goose chase, Miss Rodriquez,” said Mr. Goldstein. He rubbed his bearded chin and stepped closer. “Now what am I to do with you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” asked Diego. He jumped behind the TSA agents, getting some distance from Turner. “Deport her. You have to deport her!” Diego shouted.

  Val clutched Mr. Goldstein’s arm. “No! Please, no. You can’t deport me. I’ll do anything. Anything you want just don’t send me back, please.”

  “It’s illegal to stay in this country without a visa, young woman.”

  “I know but…”

  “And there are all sorts of visas one can apply for.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “For instance if you had a bit of capital to say start up a business…?”

  Val sighed.

  “But of course if you had that you wouldn’t be here now would you?”

  “I guess not.”

  Diego spoke up. “I could sponsor her couldn’t I?” he asked.

  “Sponsor me?” asked Val. “But you said…”

  “It was going to be a surprise. We’re going to go into business together, Valentina!”

  “Business together?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing and immediately her shackles went up. “What sort of business?”

  “Does it matter?” asked Diego. “I mean. We have to discuss it first of course. I have several good ideas as I’m sure you do yourself.”

  Glancing over at Turner, she saw his eyes shoot daggers in Diego’s direction.

  “Sounds like a solution to me,” said Mr. Goldstein. “And I know Mr. Rodriquez has the means for such a venture since I am his lawyer as well.

  Well, that explains a lot.

  “What do you say, Valentina?” Tentatively and avoiding Turner’s side of the room, Diego ventured out from behind the TSA agents.