To be Maria

by Deanna Proach

  He can hear the surprise in Terri's voice. "They were shot several times."

  Silence falls over the room. Alex finds it unbearable. After a few painstaking seconds, he shifts his body until his gaze comes in contact with Terri's face. "Adrik did this." He grabs another empty can, then crunches it.

  "So, did he find out that we killed three of his men?"

  "I don't know," Alex says.

  "Well, are we gonna kill those sons of bitches?"

  Alex's hard look falls on the flattened beer can. For a moment, he imagines it to be Adrik. I swear by my gun that I'm gonna find the dickhead before Bill does. "Yes. When I finally get my hands on Adrik, I'm gonna burn him alive. But first, I have to find Anya."

  "You mean, the bitch ran away?"

  "Yes. If we don't find her soon, she'll rattle on us to the cops." And I don't want Bill to arrest me. He'll make damn sure that I spend the rest of my life behind bars for lying to him. I have to prevent that from happening somehow.

  "Then, what are you waiting for? Let's go get her.”

  Alex realizes that he is slightly drunk the moment he stands on his feet, but it doesn't deter him from leaving his apartment suite for the second time today.

  "I know where she might be," Alex says once he is seated in Terri's truck.

  Terri gives him a hard look. "Where?"

  "The place where she used to live."

  "Well, where is it?"

  "The little white house on Gerard Avenue."

  "Can you give me the address?"

  "I don't know the address. I'm just going by what Maria and Marissa told me.”

  "Okay then," Terri says while he guides his truck onto the busy street.

  Despite the rush hour traffic, they arrive at their intended destination within ten minutes. Terri parks his truck in front of the pathway that leads up to the little house. Both men exit the car, then march up the narrow, stone pathway.

  Alex feels a rush of malevolent joy the moment he jerks open the door. "Well, the door was unlocked, so someone’s gotta be here.” He calls Anya's name.

  Silence is his response.

  "Anya," Terri yells after a few seconds of agonizing quietness.

  Still, no one responds.

  Alex's eyes dart from one corner of the room to the other. "Anya, where are you," he shouts while approaching the door on the left-hand side of the living room. He kicks it open only to find that the room looks nothing like he thought Anya's room would look like. The small room reeks of stale beer and sweat; dirty clothes and empty bottles of beer and vodka lay strewn all over the bed and on the floor; the old carpet is so badly stained that its natural color is scarcely visible, and the window is streaked with thick layers of grime.

  "Oh my..."Alex says, wrinkling his nose. He can almost taste the vomit in his throat. He slams the door shut, then yells out every foul word in the English language.

  Terri snickers. "To bad we don't have a grenade and some matches. I'd blow this joint to smithereens."

  "That's a good idea, Terri. Maybe later, though," Alex says.

  In three long strides, they reach the door to the bedroom on the opposite side of the house; the one that is nearest to the front door. That door is shut. Alex is quite hesitant to open it, afraid that he’ll be confronted with the same filth as he had in the other room. So, he leans against the door, pressing his ear against its cool, smooth surface. Both men are still and silent until Alex hears a faint rustling of sheets from inside of the room.

  I guessed right. She's here. "Anya," Alex yells, bursting through the door. His hope deflates the moment he finds the room empty. The rustling noise is coming from the curtains over the opened window.

  A new thought occurs to him: Anya has taken Maria's wallet and left the city. He thought he heard the sound of a vehicle door being shut while he was talking to the two police officers, but he was so deep in conversation with them that he hadn’t thought to keep an eye on her. But where would she go? Would she have gone to the Greyhound station, or is she standing somewhere on the highway with her thumb out, waiting for someone to pick her up?

  "No, she couldn't be doing that," Alex says out loud to himself.

  "Doing what?" Terri says.

  "Hitch hiking on the side of the road. No, I can't see Anya doing that. She ran away from me, so she wouldn't risk standing on the side of the highway."

  The reality of the situation starts to sink in, hitting him as hard as a pile of bricks. "The devious little bitch," he screams, kicking over her nightstand. The old stereo, along with the small picture frame of Anya's mother, flies off the nightstand. They land hard, breaking apart when they come in contact with the floor. He then storms out of the room, Terri following close behind. In the living room, Alex kicks over the couch. He picks up an empty beer bottle, then hurls it at the wall behind the television set. It shatters into numerous shards of glass the moment it strikes the wall.

  "She left on a bus, Terri! She's probably gone by now and we don't know where she went to," Alex screams. He kicks the television with all his might, cracking the screen severely and sending it flying into the wall where he had thrown the beer bottle.

  Terri stares at him, his mouth formed into a vengeful smile. He’s enjoying this, Alex can tell.

  "Or not. Buses don't leave the Greyhound station every minute of the day. She could be there, waiting for a bus right now as we speak."

  Alex stares at him through narrowed eyes. "You're right. Let's get her before it does arrive."

  CHAPTER 38

  At the Greyhound station, Anya pays the driver, then makes her way over to the entrance doors. She can see a few people lingering inside the lobby. That’s when she realizes that the only things she has are Maria's wallet, a stick of deodorant and a hair brush. All of these people have one or two pieces of luggage and she has almost nothing. All of my good clothes are in Alex's apartment suite. She takes one good look at her surroundings. If I go back, I won't get out alive. She holds in her breath while she steps through the doors.

  A middle-aged woman with long, jet black hair surveys Anya coldly as she approaches. Her heartbeat starts to quicken. I'm safe. Finally. But where am I gonna go? I can't go to Vancouver. I can't even stay in this province. I have to go far enough away where Alex and Adrik won’t find me.

  "What do you want?" the lady behind the counter says.

  "I want to purchase a one-way ticket to Toronto," Anya says on impulse.

  The lady gives her a skeptical look. "Running away from home?"

  Anya opens Maria's wallet. No. I'm running away from a drug dealer. And besides, you're supposed to help me, not judge me.

  The woman shoots Anya a curt look. "A bus leaves for Calgary at ten pm. In Calgary, you will need to transfer onto another bus. There will be a two hour layover before the next bus leaves for Toronto."

  Ten 'o' clock? "What time is it now?"

  The lady studies her wrist watch. "It's quarter past six."

  Fear grips Anya's stomach. That's hours away. Alex could find me in that time. "Is there a bus that leaves sooner?"

  The woman gives her an annoyed look. "Yes. You just missed it. That'll be one-hundred-and-ninety dollars."

  Anya hands her the money, grabs her change and ticket, then crosses over to the restroom. She sets her weary body down beside the toilet once inside the second stall. She undoes the zipper of her left coat pocket, shoves her ticket, spare change and wallet inside. Slowly, she fastens the zipper.

  She leans her head against the wall of the stall. Maria and Patrick enter her mind. The moment Anya shuts her eyes, she sees Maria. The frightened look on her face is as vivid as the moment Anya saw that expression just hours ago. Then, an image of Maria's lifeless, blood soaked body replaces the previous image. It fades quickly, then Patrick appears before her eyes. He stares at her, his eyes filling up with tears while she says goodbye to him. Anya begins to sob uncontrollably. She is all alone, worse off than she was before she met Maria. She misses them both s
o much, the pain of it is crushing. She would give anything to have them by her side; she longs for Patrick's embrace, to hear his beautiful singing voice, and she wants to hang out with Maria.

  ****

  Alex and Terri enter the Greyhound station just as the hand of the clock on Alex's wrist watch strikes six thirty. The lady from behind the counter eyes them skeptically as they approach.

  "Catching a bus?" she says once they are face to face.

  "No," Alex says, keeping his voice low.

  "Then, what are you here for?"

  The brusqueness in her voice fuels the anger inside of him. He wants to yell and swear at her, but there are other people in the lobby. The last thing Alex wants is for someone to call the cops on them, so he swallows his temper. "I'm looking for a girl by the name of Anya Preschnikov."

  The woman crumples her eyebrows.

  "She's short, thin, has long, brown hair, and wears a brace around her neck."

  The woman's face lights up. "Oh, her. Yes. She bought a ticket not long ago."

  Alex exchanges looks with Terri. Good call in coming here, he almost says.

  "Where is she going?"

  She frowns at Alex. "That's not information I can disclose to you."

  Alex clenches his teeth. Twice, he rakes his fingers through his hair. Don't lose it, Alex. You already lost it enough today. Once more, and you'll end up in jail. "Well, can you at least tell me if Anya has left yet?"

  The frown on her face deepens. "No. I'm not in any position to disclose this information to you. I could be fired if I do, so please leave."

  Alex averts his eyes away from her. Think quick, Alex. "But I really need to see her. I care for her and…I think she's in trouble and I need to find her before it's too late."

  The lady narrows her eyes at him. "What part of no don't you understand?"

  Alex groans.

  "Now, can you leave and let me get on with my work?"

  "Fine!" Try all you want, bitch. You're not gonna stop me from finding her.

  Since no one else is standing in line to purchase a ticket, the woman shifts her attention elsewhere. As soon as she turns her back to them, Alex and Terri sneak over to the woman's washroom, trying to be as discrete as possible. Just outside the door, he turns to Terri and whispers, "I know she's in here because she's not in the lobby, and she wouldn't wander away from the station."

  Terri nods his head in agreement.

  ****

  Anya's thought process is brusquely interrupted when men's voices fill the air. Terror fills her entire body when she recognizes that one of those voices belongs to Alex. She climbs on top of the toilet, being careful not to make any noise.

  "Anya, we know you're in here," she can hear him say.

  Her heart pounds against her chest and her eyes fill up with tears. They found me. It's too late. I'm done for!

  "Anya, can you please come out?" Alex says. His voice is much softer, but it does nothing to ease her fear.

  "Anya, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna to talk to you."

  Her legs begin to ache, but she ignores the pain and forces herself to remain frozen in her tableau. Talk to me about what? And why would I trust that you won't hurt me?

  "Can you please come out?"

  This time, she can detect a hint of annoyance in his voice. Her heart leaps into her throat when she hears him knocking on the door of the stall where she’s hiding.

  "Come on, Anya." The knocking on the door becomes louder.

  Sweat breaks out all over her trembling body.

  "Every other stall is unoccupied, so we know you're in here." The door shakes violently with each knock.

  The tears spill down her face.

  "Hey! What are you two doing in here," an older man yells.

  Anya sucks in her breath. Thank you. Oh, thank you. Now please make them leave.

  "We're looking for someone. She's in here and I really need her," Anya can hear Alex say.

  "Can't you read the label? This is a woman's washroom. You have no business in here."

  "But it's an emergency," Alex says, his voice insistent.

  "Listen, punk. I don't care what kind of an emergency you're in. You don't barge into a women's restroom and invade your lady's privacy. You can talk to her when she gets out. I doubt she'll take long to finish whatever she's doing."

  Anya's heart flutters. No!

  "Please sir, I'm her boyfriend," Alex says, his voice pleading.

  "Some boyfriend you are to invade your lady's privacy. Leave her to do her thing."

  Anya's head starts to spin. No! No! No!

  "But she's sick, you see. We're worried that she might be unconscious," Alex's friend says.

  Anya does not recognize that voice.

  "If that was the case, a lady wouldn't have reported this situation to me. If anyone thought your girlfriend was sick, we would have checked up on her several minutes ago," the older man says.

  "But I really need to talk to her," Alex says.

  "Get out! Both of you, before I call the police."

  Anya exhales her breath slowly. Thank you!

  "Okay, we're leaving," Alex says, sounding defeated.

  "If I see either of you anywhere near this building, I'll call the police."

  "You don't need to because we're leaving right now," Alex says in one breath.

  Anya has the urge to run out and hug her savior, but she forces herself to remain perched on top of the toilet. After what feels like hours of waiting, she emerges slowly from behind the stall, then tip toes over to the door. As she reaches her hand out to open it, her heart begins to flutter. She breathes in and out deeply. It's okay. Alex is gone. He won't get you. The security guard made sure of that.

  The moment she steps into the lobby, she finds herself face to face with the man who saved her life: he is tall and husky, but his grey eyes are soft and unassuming.

  "That was quite an ordeal you went through. Are you okay, young lady?"

  "Yes, I-I'm fine," she says in a weak voice.

  "I just want to let you know that you're safe now. Your boyfriend won't come around while I'm here."

  Her eyebrows snap up. "He's not my boyfriend."

  He looks at her, appalled by her clipped response. "Then, how does he know you?"

  Tears well up in the corner of Anya’s eyes. I can't tell him what really happened. "We met at a party." He also met Maria and because of him, she's now dead. "We were just friends."

  "Can I give you a small word of advice?" he says, laying a hand on her shoulder.

  She does not shrink away from his hold.

  "Choose your friends carefully. They can either make you or break you."

  Anya gulps. She is at a complete loss of words. His words should mean everything to her, especially after what she has endured, but she is in so much emotional pain that it blocks her ability to listen to wisdom. She simply nods her head and walks over to the sitting area where other people are waiting for their bus to arrive.

  CHAPTER 39

  Six days later…

  When Anya opens her eyes, she shifts her head to look out the window. All she can see is rows of buildings, tall snow banks and people talking on cell phones while they hurry down the street. She notices that, unlike her, all of them are clad in expensive clothing of a professional style: long coats over business suits complemented with thoroughly polished boots. Her new surroundings instantly erase the thought of Alex, Maria and Patrick from her mind. But they don’t rid the nausea Anya is feeling. Since the bus left Peach Valley, she had gotten little sleep. Not only was Anya uncomfortable, she couldn’t help but wonder how the heck she’s going to make it in Toronto on her own. She doesn’t know a soul and she won’t be able to find her way around. Anya had tried to talk to some of the other passengers, but she didn’t get very far. Everyone was in their own world, preoccupied with themselves or with other things, so Anya eventually gave up and retreated into herself.

  Anya can feel the bus come to a gentle h
alt. I'm not in Peach Valley anymore. That's for sure.

  She feels a gentle hand on her shoulder. Anya glances up to see the bus driver looking down at her, the look on his face warm and friendly. It eases some of Anya's anxiety.

  “We’re here, Miss,” he says.

  “Okay, thanks,” she whispers.

  The moment Anya stands up, she can feel the heaviness in her body, and her head spins. Wearily, she trudges off the bus. The cold, humid Ontario air cuts through her winter coat, sending deep chills throughout her body. Anya scurries past the hoards of people and into the bus station. She looks around, taking note of everything around her. The first thing Anya notices is that this station isn’t anything like the Greyhound station in Peach Valley: it’s clean, large and old, Anya can tell, because its architectural structure is of a nineteenth century style. The open lobby is flanked by tall, vaulted walls which give way to an arched ceiling. It kind of makes this station look like a Cathedral. Anya begins to imagine she’s somewhere in Madrid, standing in the middle of a Cathedral. Close beside her are Maria and Patrick. Patrick squeezes her hand while Maria talks excitedly about the history of this great church and of Madrid. Anya smiles. She doesn’t have to worry about Alex or Adrik because she’s a world away. They’d never be able to find her and Maria here.

  The sound of a siren brings Anya back to reality in a rude way. Startled, she jumps, her gaze darting from one end of the lobby to the other. People continue to enter and exit the building all around her, unaffected by the sudden loud noise. She feels a brusque push from behind. Anya stumbles forward, struggling momentarily to regain her footing. When she peers over her right shoulder, she spots a tall, stern looking middle aged man frowning down on her.

  "Watch where you're going," he says in a gruff voice.

  "Sorry," Anya says through gritted teeth. Inside, she churns with anger. You should be the one to watch where you're going, jerk.

  Anya races out of the building and into the cold where she immediately begins shivering. She pulls her coat tight against her torso while stepping up to the side of the building, letting the rush of people walk by.