Change of Heart

by Scarlett Edwards

  I close my eyes, and take another deep breath. I know I’m in no state of mind to make any serious decisions now. A day of rest does sound awfully tempting. Besides, maybe Rich is right. Maybe going to the cops this early is a bad idea. He knows a hell of a lot more about these people than I do.

  “Okay,” I nod finally. “Okay. You can have your day.”

  ***

  Rich leaves me alone in a motel room on the outskirts of town. He makes me swear not to touch the phone in our room. I agree.

  I sit on the bed. It sings out to me with the promise of a few minutes’ rest. I don’t know how long Rich will be gone. But I’m too anxious to sleep. I feel like a fugitive on the run in one of those old Western moves—except the people chasing me are the bad guys.

  I lie back and wonder how different things would have been if I hadn’t let Rich buy me that drink. Or if Abby hadn’t spent our monthly rent on drugs and booze. Or if I’d turned away from Rich after telling him my name at the all-night diner, then wandered over to the library to sneak in a few hours of sleep—

  No. I banish those thoughts. Regret never got me anything. The only way to move forward in life is to press on and persevere.

  Persevere. That’s exactly what I’ve done my entire life. Persevere. Endure. Survive.

  I hadn’t known either of my parents growing up. The only clues about their identity came from the director at the orphanage. He’d told me that one night, a woman in a tattered, ruined coat came by to drop off a bundle of clothes at the door. Except the bundle wasn’t empty—I was asleep inside. I was naked, wrapped up in old, dirty shirts, but around my neck hung the only possession I still have to this day: the small metal locket.

  That was all I had ever known about my mother. Nobody caught her name, and my teenage attempts to track her down proved fruitless. I suspected she was a prostitute. It was common among kids with similar sob-stories in the orphanage. I don’t hate her for it, or resent her in any way. What I feel toward her now is… nothing. Absolutely nothing. She is a stranger, after she’d made the choice to leave me by myself when I was a babe. In fact, the only reason I’d ever tried tracking her was to see what she could tell me about my dad.

  I didn’t know anything about him, either. But one day, when I was about fifteen, a letter arrived at the orphanage. It was addressed to me, and written in a flowery, feminine hand. “To my beloved daughter,” it began. I remember the flash of hope I felt when my eyes found the words.

  The next line destroyed my entire world.

  “I am legally obliged to inform you that your father is dead.”

  That was it. No signature, no name, no offers of sympathy or compassion. Just the cold, cruel words: “Your father is dead.”

  I’d crumpled up the sheet and thrown it across the room, my tears coming freely. I’d always held out hope that the man I knew from the locket would, one day, come and find me. I knew it as a false hope, young as I was, but I clung to it fiercely. It helped me through many miserable days and nights.

  After the arrival of the letter, I didn’t even have that hope anymore.

  I finger the small metal locket idly. I know it’s made of silver, because to this day, there isn’t a speck of rust on it. I’d almost thrown it away, that day I received the letter. I’d gone to a nearby bridge and dangled it from my fingertips over the rushing waters below. Then the wind blew, nearly snagging it from grip. I’d snatched it back on instinct. Only then did I understand the mistake I’d almost made. Many kids in the orphanage knew nothing at all about their parents. I, at least, had the locket.

  Persevere, and survive. That’s how I’d gotten through nineteen years of life. That’s what I would have to do right now. Whatever news Rich came back with, I’d face it head-on, and continue to survive.

  A yawn escapes my lips. I feel my eyes drifting shut. The mattress beneath me is full of lumps and broken springs. But it’s not the worst I’ve ever slept on. I roll to one side and move my hips to a more comfortable position. Then, I close my eyes completely and drift off into a troubled sleep.

  ***

  A loud knocking sound startles me awake. My eyes go wide, and for a second I believe I’m back in Rich’s apartment, and those men are trying to break in. Then I hear Rich’s voice through the door. “Penny? Hey, Penny, open up!”

  I push myself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The door is ajar about an inch, and a stream of light floods in from outside. I’d forgotten that I’d hooked the door chain when Rich left. I open it and let him in.

  “You look a lot better,” he observes. “You get some rest?”

  “A little,” I admit. I look around, but don’t see a clock. “How long have you been gone?”

  “Just over an hour. Here.” He lifts a plastic bag. “I got you some food. I figured you’d be hungry?” For some reason, he forms it as a question.

  I smile and nod. “Famished. Thanks. I wouldn’t think you’d have realized.”

  “I’m pretty attentive,” he says as he closes the door and sits on the bed. The delicious aroma of mozzarella cheese wafts from the bag. I sit beside him as he dumps out the contents. There’s a large pizza box, along with some unfamiliar-looking candy bars.

  I reach for the pizza, but he stops my hand with his. “Have one of these first,” he says, handing me the candy bar. I give him a funny look, and he explains, “They’re protein bars. I know they don’t taste great, but they’re the quickest way to get some good nutrition in you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, unwrapping the bar. His concern for my diet is kind of sweet. A strong chemical scent assaults my nose. My stomach grumbles at the thought of the nearby pizza.

  I take a bite of the bar to appease Rich. It’s hard and sticks to my teeth. But overall, it’s not that bad. Well, not revolting, in any case.

  Rich smiles and seems to relax at my first bite. I give him a look. “I didn’t think you’d care about what type of food I eat.”

  He shrugs. “I pay attention to those things.” He unwraps a bar and starts chewing it.

  “So?” I ask. “What did you figure out while you were gone?”

  Rich grunts. “Not a lot. I haven’t had much time yet. But I found a safe place for you to stay.”

  I perk an inquisitive eyebrow. He continues quickly, “I know you only agreed to stay today, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that it won’t be enough time. I wouldn’t feel right sending you back on your own, knowing you might be in danger because of me. So, look. It’s Thursday now. Give me tomorrow, and then the weekend, to sort things through. I don’t know if I can settle all my issues by then, but at least I hope I can convince the people who are after me that you’re not involved.” He pauses. “Please.”

  I look at him. His eyes are sincere. “Okay,” I agree. “You have until Monday.”

  Relief washes over his face like a tidal wave. He exhales a huge sigh. “Great. You don’t know how much that simplifies things, Penny.”

  “You mentioned a safe place for me?”

  “Yeah. It’s with a friend of mine, on the other side of the state. It’ll take us a few hours to drive there, but that way, I don’t have to worry about anybody finding you while I’m back here sorting things out.”

  “And I just wait there?”

  “That’s right. My first worry is getting you detangled from all this. Hopefully, by Monday, you’ll never need to deal with me again.”

  “You’re sweet,” I smile. I don’t know if it’s the comfort of a full belly, or the feeling of being looked after that makes me do what I do next. I lean over, and give Rich a kiss on the cheek. He blinks, surprised, then clears his throat and looks away.

  “Don’t do that,” he chides gently, “or I might start getting attached.”

  I laugh and knuckle him in the arm. “You? Playboy extraordinaire? The man who says he doesn’t do relationships? Come on.”

  Rich gives me a weak grin. “You don’t know me half as well as you might think.” He clears his
throat again, and the levity fades from his voice. “I think we should agree not to let things get personal between us. I know we’re going to be spending some time together, and I know that we… shared… something special last night. But, I don’t think you want to jump into my world right now. There’s too much trouble there as it is. I know you have your own things to deal with without being overwhelmed with any of my shit…” He trails off, then looks at me, his eyes pleading.

  “Right,” I nod. I feel a pang of regret. I’m starting to like Rich. The thought of not hearing from him again after Monday fills me with some sadness.

  But, I know it’s for the best. He’s having a tough time right now. And even though I want to help, I know I’d be next to useless.

  I hold out my hand for him to shake. He looks at it, puzzled, then looks back at me.

  “What?” I say. “It’s a handshake. To make a deal!”

  Rich barks a laugh. “I see.” He grips my hand and shakes it. “Deal,” he agrees.

  ***

  We’re back in Rich’s truck, driving toward his apartment again. He told me he wanted to pick up some cash he’d hidden in his bathroom to last us through the weekend. I didn’t have my wallet, so there was no danger of me using my credit card, but he said he didn’t want to use his own, either, on the drive to his friend’s. That way, we wouldn’t leave a trail.

  The precautions he’s taking are reasonable. But, they make me worry about just what kind of people Rich is in trouble with. If they can track cell phones, credit cards, and even have cops working for them… well, they definitely aren’t your average criminals. If their henchmen were the type to leave carved warnings on walls and break down front doors, it makes them even more dangerous.

  Suddenly, the rational part of my brain becomes a little happier about the deal I’d struck with Rich.

  “Hold on,” I say. “Do you think it’s safe for us to go back to your apartment again? I mean, isn’t that exactly where they’d expect to find you?”

  Rich nods slowly. “Well… yes and no. It’s daytime now, so there are going to be people around. I don’t think anybody’s going to try kidnapping me with an audience. Also, you remember the message they left? They want me to come back to my apartment and find it. Frighten me a bit. I think last night, if they’d found me inside, all they’d have done is rough me up some.” He shrugs. “They wouldn’t have hurt me too badly. They need me alive and somewhat lucid to come up with the money they think I still owe them.”

  “Do you?” I ask.

  Rich looks at me. “Do I what?”

  “Do you still owe them money? You don’t have to lie to me, Rich. I’m already here with you. But I want to know the truth.”

  Rich considers it for a moment. Then he shakes his head. “No. The debt was paid. Everything is accounted for.”

  “Okay,” I nod. “I believe you.”

  “The only other reason it might not be safe for us to go back,” Rich continues, “is if they know we’ve already been there. But in that case,” he laughs, “I don’t think they’d think me stupid enough to return again.”

  I grin back at him. “If only they knew the truth.”

  “If only,” Rich agrees. “But still, you’re probably right. It pays to be cautious. We’ll keep a lookout.”

  ***

  Less than a block away from the apartment, Rich curses softly. “Shit,” he says. “They’re here.”

  “What? Where?” I spin in my seat, trying to look everywhere at once. The street is full of people—students, mostly—and nobody stands out.

  “Don’t panic. It just means we can’t go back in. We’ll keep driving. We’ll be fine.” He shuffles through the center console and shoves a pair of dark aviator sunglasses at me. “Here. Put these on.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want them to recognize you.”

  “But they already have my ID—”

  “Just do it!”

  “Fine.” I take the glasses and settle them over my eyes. Everything becomes darker. “Now what?”

  “Now, I can point them out to you without worrying.” He nods casually ahead and to the right, on my side of the street. “See that parked car?”

  “The black one?”

  “Yeah. The black Lincoln. It’s theirs. But I can’t tell if there’s anybody inside…” He grunts. “The windows are tinted.”

  “What does it matter if they’re inside the car or not? They’re here, which means we can’t go into your apartment. Right?”

  “Right,” Rich agrees. “No point risking it. I would have loved to have that money for the trip, though. It just means we’ll need to be more frugal.”

  “Well, how much cash do we need?”

  “At a bare minimum? Just enough for gas. But I think I’ve got enough in my wallet for that.”

  We’re closing in on the parked car. I feel my eyes being tugged toward it. I look, trying to peer through the double layer of dark glass to see if there’s anyone inside. It’s hard to tell. Rich steers forward. As our car passes the Lincoln, time slows for me.

  I turn my head slowly to the right. At the same moment the driver’s side window of the black car rolls down. A stab of fear hits me right in the gut as a bald, skinny man in a beige suit turns his head to look at me. He doesn’t have the bulk to match either of the silhouettes I’d seen breaking down the door. His eyes seem to pierce right through the glasses and reach down to my very core. Danger emanates from him.

  I bristle and look away, heart racing.

  “Did you get a good look?” Rich asks.

  It takes me a moment to remember myself, then I turn on him in a fury. “Why did you do that?” I demand.

  “Do what?”

  “Slow down as we passed! The man in the car rolled his window down and looked right at me!”

  “Sorry. I wanted to see who it was.”

  “But now he’s seen me!” I twist back in my seat, my heart still pounding in my chest. “The car’s not following. Rich, they’re not following us.” I’m on the verge of hysteria. “Is that a good thing? Why aren’t they following us? Rich? Rich!”

  “Penny.” Rich reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Relax.” His hand moves up to lower the overhead visor. He taps the mirror on the flipside. “Look here.”

  I do. Relief floods over me when I see how much of my face the aviators hide. I can hardly recognize myself under the enormous lenses. I doubt even Abby would know it’s me if I show up in front of her wearing them.

  “Thanks,” I mumble. “Sorry for freaking out. I feel like a dork.” I look back, and see the black car still standing on the street. “Why aren’t they following us, though?”

  “I don’t think they know my truck,” Rich says. “I’ve driven it maybe twice in the past year. I prefer my own feet, and everything is close by, anyway, on campus.”

  “Oh. So you’re a student here too, then?” I can’t believe I don’t even know that about him.

  “Kind of.” Rich shrugs. “I was supposed to graduate a few years ago, but I took some time off. I have only a few credits left to complete. But I never seem to find the time.”

  “So being chased by mobsters is a regular occurrence for you, then?” I smile. “At least I’m glad I’m with a pro.”

  He gives me a level look. “That’s not funny.” But then he breaks into a wide grin, betraying the words.

  I laugh. It seems the only thing left to do in the situation. “So, what next?”

  “Next,” Rich says, “I get you somewhere safe.”

  ***

  Some time later, Rich’s Ford eases to a stop. I hear the engine turn off. I open my eyes groggily. I must have dozed off without realizing it as he drove.

  I look around, expecting to see his friend’s place outside… but no. We’re at some tiny, rural gas station. Tall evergreens surround us on all sides.

  I yawn and stretch my arms. “How long have I been out?”

  “Almost an hour and a half,” Rich answe
rs.

  “Are we close, then?”

  “About halfway there. Maybe less. This is the last gas station I know of on the way, though.”

  “Just how far from the reaches of civilization are you taking me, Rich?”

  He chuckles. “Far enough to keep you safe. It’s a small town, no more than five hundred people.”

  “Good. I was worried you’d leave me in the woods,” I joke, peering at the trees around us.

  He laughs again. “I’m not that cruel. I’m going to fill up and take a look inside. You want anything?”

  “What I want,” I say, taking off my seatbelt, “is to stretch my legs.” I put my hand on the handle to open the door when I hear a sharp intake of breath. I look back at Rich. There’s a tense expression on his face. “Is something wrong?”

  He blinks once… and then forces a smile. “No.” He shakes his head. “Of course not. Go ahead.”

  “Weirdo,” I mutter as I open the door and step outside. The fresh air hits me like an avalanche after the stuffy warmth of the car. I stretch my arms and breathe in deeply, loving the scent of old trees in the air. The air in California never seemed that bad, but I didn’t know how good a lungful of pure, unpolluted air felt until I moved north.

  I turn back to find Rich with the nozzle stuck into the car. He pauses. “Damn! I forgot. I have to pay first. Watch this for me, will you?”

  Without waiting for my reply, he rushes off into the building, leaving the car hooked up to the gas pump. “Watch this for me, will you,” I mimic under my breath. As if somebody’s going to run up and steal the hose!

  I lean against the side of his car and look around. A curving dirt road runs one way into the woods. On the other side of the gas station is the paved road I assume Rich used to get us here.