by Eve Gaal
Ron gently pulled his mobile out of his pocket. Snapping at it like a starved crocodile, The Fist clamped down on it, and tossed it against the wall where it broke into several pieces. “Why did you idiots come back here?” he asked Ron. “What do you people want?” He turned to glare at Tina, and then scoffed at Carl, who had his arms up defensively on both sides, like a boxer waiting for a fight. John was staring at his tennis shoes when The Fist approached him. “Well?” he asked, waiting for an answer that wasn't going to come. All of a sudden, Ron dashed through the door, like a madman from an asylum. He ran out of the dealership, past the parking lot and down the street.
“Shit,” the Fist said, wanting to follow Ron and wondering what happened to his partner. One quick shot from the gun hit the door. Through the window, they watched Ron turn a corner by the drug store. “Anyone else want to leave?” Fist asked, swinging his pistol in front of them. “I've shot morons in my life before and one or two more won't make any difference.” With that, he walked out and shut the door. Pulling an old shoelace from his pocket, he tied the doorknob to the office next door.
* * *
Chapter One-Hundred and Five
When Penny swerved into the gas station, Stephen drove in behind her and rolled down his window.
“Are we lost?” He asked with a grin.
“No,” Penny answered, managing a smile even though she had to run to the bathroom. “No,” she repeated, flailing her arms towards the building, “I just need to make a pit-stop,” she said, running from the car and pointing to a giant billboard. “See the sign over there that says Martin Automotive, only one mile on the left.”
Stephen nodded, tipping an imaginary hat. “I'll see you there.”
“Right behind you,” she shouted, opening the door to the mini-mart/gas-station.
A few minutes later, she was back on the road, feeling better, and empowered by all the things Stephen had talked to her about the previous evening. The time had come to be fearless. She needed to face the world head-on and begin enjoying life. What was she waiting for? What did she expect would happen? She had been patient with everyone and yet somehow it made her resentful. Today, she would turn over a new palm frond, regain her identity and start living life her way. No matter how independent she thought she was back in high school, Stephen was right about her mother making all the important decisions. Now, things were different and high school was ancient history. Her intentions needed to make an impression on her own life and those she loved. She needed to start her future today!
The more she thought about it, the more excited she became thinking about her own recipes for success. When she was a little girl, she couldn't wait for Christmas. She strung cranberries and popcorn with her mother and sat on Santa's lap every year until she was fourteen. Wrapping presents, baking gingerbread, serving eggnog and singing Christmas carols were all things she loved about the holidays. Her dad would lift her up to put the redheaded angel on the top of the tree. At a stop sign, Penny thought she saw a familiar looking man run across the road. She smiled, but whoever it was, didn't smile back. Must have been one of the reporters from the Bed and Breakfast, she decided.
Her mind teemed with possibilities about all the things she needed to do when she got home. It was time for her own traditions, but she had tons of catching up to do. Right now, she was out of touch with everything. She felt as if she had fallen off the earth into an imaginary volcano, but in a good way. The strange events and twisted lessons seemed to guide her into an understanding about what was actually important in life. The vacation from hell had apparently become educational; she decided, meditating over the recent events. No psychologist or fatherly man with white hair needed to tell her what had happened. All her happy Christmas memories ended right at the edge of her mother's gravesite in a bottomless black crater….
“Yes! That's it,” she said aloud. Her heart froze every Christmas. Ice formed on the inside of their California living room while she created more work for herself in order to avoid facing distant relatives or anything reeking of sparkly or happy holidays. Knowing her imagination had clouded her reality for years, she welcomed the fresh injection of the truth. Obviously, her imagination carried her through the year, but there was no denying she became an emotional ice machine in December.
That warmhearted man Stephen knew about art and about science because of his wife. He knew so many things that she didn't know, and yet the excruciating truth didn't hurt her feelings, because he knew how to communicate. He spoke to her as an adult, an artistic peer who didn't criticize or judge. Stephen offered soft suggestions for her traveling, wayward soul. She smiled thinking of Stephen and his wife Ilona, when she drove into the dealership and parked directly behind their white car.
Something seemed strange, Penny thought exiting the vehicle. After slamming the car door, she saw Stephen and Ilona tied together in the back seat with tape wrapped several times around their mouths.
Yanking open the door to the white sedan, she pulled the front seat forward, leaned in and asked, “Who did this?”
Ilona's horrified eyes look past her and Stephen nodded, indicating that someone stood behind her. Turning around, Penny saw a bald guy step off the curb.
“Hold on,” Penny whispered, “I'll fix this guy.” Closing the door to the white car, she approached the man. Penny held her head high and confidence oozed from her pores like sweat on a prizefighter's brow. “Why would you do this?” she yelled. She looked around for a weapon and saw a tire iron leaning against a wall. She picked it up and turned toward the man, “Are you nuts?” She stepped around Glenn's black sedan.
“You must be Penny,” he said, scratching his mustache and coming closer.
Darin must have told him, she figured. “Is Darin here?”
“Well, well,” he hesitated. “I thought you'd be taller,” he grumbled, staring at the tattoo on her shoulder.
“What?” she almost yelled, “I'm tall enough. Now, go get him,” she commanded, raising the tire iron above his bald, shiny head. What a weird place, she thought following him into the dealership. He turned around the minute she said, 'Now go get him.'
The sound of sirens filled the air. Inside, she followed him past empty offices, empty desks. They wandered down a corridor to a large office where Darin was having a meeting with a short ugly man in a leather jacket. The bald guy immediately sat down on the couch and before she walked in, he whispered, “She's here and she's one tough bitch.”
Penny entered and looked at Darin. “Hi, remember me?”
“Of course, I remember. What's with the tire iron?” He reached out his thick, muscular arm to shake her hand and noticed her tapping the iron into her tiny palm like Colonel Klink. Noting Penny's demeanor, he pulled his arm back, shrugged and said, “Let me finish this. I'm kind of in the middle of something important.”
The short little hairs on the back of the Fist's head perked up at her arrival. He could tell she smelled smoke from the way her chest heaved and she kept inhaling and biting her upper lip. Her eyes were moist and flashing with anger. He turned to stare her down, watching her frown, but when she tried to speak, he decided to cut her off.
“Darin,” Fist said, “We have to go. Look out there.” He pointed at a news camera van and an ambulance, both pulling into the drive. “Come on,” he said to his bald friend. “We'll get our money later. How about we trade back a cool blue truck for our payment?” A phony smile came over his uneven face as he warily glanced at Penny. Slinking towards the door, they almost ran into Glenn limping into Darin's office. “How did he get out?”
The bald one shrugged and said, “Beats me, boss.”
“Forget it, let's go. See you, Darin. Ah–nice to meet you Penny,” Fist said, before turning to look at Glenn, “How's it hanging?” The Fist thought his own joke was incredibly funny and he laughed like a rabid hyena before stepping through the door.
Glenn's face contorted with pain but he raised his hand and flipped him off. Penny no
ticed Glenn's bloody handprints on the doorjamb. 'How'd he get out?' Get out from where? Penny wanted to ask, but she could tell something seriously strange was going on at this dealership.
“Oh yeah, the suit-guy reminded me, don't use your head.” Fist said, still grinning—-still loitering by the door.
“Huh?” Darin asked.
“The can, the toilet. It's wired for….” He stopped in mid-sentence and looked at Penny still tapping the tire iron. For a petite woman, she sure looked tough, he thought. “Never mind, I'm outta here.”
Penny stood there, fearless, in her hiking boots, a determined look on her regal face. The office smelled disgusting and Darin was acting weird. Penny wondered what Tina saw in him but there was something else that bothered her and it was putrid and bizarre. More than a smell, it was something she couldn't put her finger on. A rat-like aura settled like a cloud with negative vibes onto her delicate shoulders. A dark, evil presence, with a leather jacket brushed by her, and passed into the hallway. Now flashing like busted streetlights, her eyes and her heart felt the presence of lurking danger. Had she really been Pele, this would be the time to erupt, she thought, as her eyes took in the separated piles of pink messages.
She rapped the tire iron loudly on Darin's desk and asked, “Will someone please tell me what's going on?” A guy with a suit jacket wrapped around his waist crumbled onto the couch like a rag doll.
“And who are you?” Darin asked the guy on the couch, ignoring Penny's question.
“Channel Two. I'm Glenn. I called an ambulance. Are they here yet?” Glenn answered in clipped, breathless sentences. A second later, Ron ran into the office.
Baffled, Penny looked at Glenn, holding his crotch with a blood-spattered rag. When Ron ran in, she thought she saw a ghost. It was the man who had crossed the street moments ago–the one who didn't return her smile. No wonder he looked familiar. “Wow, just when I thought my vacation couldn't get any wackier, I run into my manager,” she muttered to no one in particular. Hold it together Penny, she told herself. You can do anything, remember? This is really happening and you can handle it. The fire in her toes seemed to be crawling up her legs, burning her thighs and moving higher. It boiled like a cauldron in the pit of her stomach. Her cheeks were blazing.
“Hi, Penny, glad you're here, everyone's been looking for you. What's with the tire iron? You're making me nervous,” Ron exclaimed, trying to catch his breath.
Darin stood up and said, “I know you. The Globe, right?”
“The ambulance is here,” Ron replied, turning to Glenn, who sat up to look out the window.
“What about my cameraman?” Glenn shouted. “I need to make a report.” He slowly stood up making his way across the room to the mirror behind the door.
“He's here,” Ron said, “Blue van with yellow letters?”
“Right. Did anyone let those people out of the other office?” Glenn asked, now calming himself and getting ready for his television appearance. Spitting on his dirty, bloody fingers, he tried matting down a few flyaway hairs on the crown of his head. Determined to get a full report, he would rather have died than miss his lifetime opportunity to report from the inside of a major breaking news story.
“I think they're all fine,” Ron said to Glenn and Darin. “Everyone's waiting in the showroom, Darin.”
The first two medics came into Darin's office to assist Glenn with his minor injuries. A few minutes later, some plain-clothes officers came to talk to Darin. Penny grabbed Darin's scissors, but held onto the tire iron. Something very unusual was going on, and since she had enough of her own troubles with the law on Kauai, this seemed like an opportune time for getting out of here and heading for the airport.
Since everyone knew Darin, it seemed more like a movie set than a crime scene. Feeling out of place and invisible, she just wanted to leave. Penny walked up to Ron, “Hi Ron, you changed your hair?” Still out of breath, he swallowed and nodded. “I'm leaving for the airport and wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. See you in the office next week,” she said, turning to go. “Oh yeah, who is everyone? What's this about everyone looking for me?”
Pointing out the window, and far across the parking lot, Ron wanted her to see the guy with the leather jacket and Baldy being shoved into a police van.
“Those two fools look dangerous,” Penny said.
“Not anymore,” a plain-clothes policeman said, while gently prying the tire iron from Penny's grip. Knowing he'd take the scissors next, she palmed them in her other hand.
Amid Darin's serious looking chat with the detectives, Penny interrupted, holding up the scissors. “Darin, I need these.” They watched her run to the service department where she cut the ropes, ties and tape off Stephen and Dr. Okos.
* * *
Chapter One Hundred and Six
Cameramen were everywhere, stringing their lights and wires up and down the blood-smeared corridor. The sound of her heart beat loudly against her eardrums and she hurriedly worked her way over extension cords, almost tripping on the way to the service department.
Stephen and Ilona were kicking and making muffled noises in the back of the white car. Penny quickly opened the car door and snipped the ties that held their hands together. Slowly, she removed the tape wrapped around Stephen's head.
“Ouch,” Stephen grumbled. The tape pulled on his soft white hair.
“Penny, don't leave,” Ron's voice called from behind her.
Ignoring him, she handed Stephen the scissors so he could undo his wife.
“I have no idea what's going on, but I hope they caught the animals who did this,” she said, crawling out of the back seat and turning to Ron.
“What?” she asked her manager, as she wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her arm. “Look at this mess. This is a college professor and her husband, for goodness sake. This is so uncool. Why would anyone tie them up and torture them like this?” She looked at his Hawaiian shirt, his blisters and paused to take a deep breath. “Do you have any idea what's happening here?”
Stephen pulled his wife out of the back seat and climbed out of the car. “Penny, you're not only my muse, but my hero.” He smiled, rubbing his face, where the tape had pulled on his stubble. The afternoon sun had made it hot in the car, and his shirt and face were dripping with sweat.
“She's magnificent, Stephen,” Ilona intoned. She eyed Ron suspiciously wondering if he was going to pull out a gun or a knife. Her tight bun had loosened and fine hairs were sticking to her reddened cheeks.
Penny noticed Ilona's fingers digging into Stephens forearm and said, “Don't worry–he's my manager at the paper.”
“Penny, please come inside,” Ron implored. “I want to show you something in the showroom.” Cameramen from various stations were setting lights up in the parking lot.
“Forget it Ron, I'm not part of this crap. Stop scaring these nice people. I don't know what's going on and I certainly don't want to be involved in some strange publicity stunt for the dealership. Darin keeps trying to involve me in his advertising campaigns and wants me to come live here and work for him. Do you know about that?”
“No, I haven't heard about that one, but this is not a publicity stunt.” Ron looked over at Ilona and Stephen who were pulling their luggage out of the trunk of the white car. Ilona fanned herself with a sport-fishing brochure.
“What is it then? Who were those two thugs, the police hauled away, and why is that reporter bleeding?” She demanded. Ron detected a change in the normally sedate but chirpy artist.
Ilona interrupted them. “I heard you mentioning Darin, is he here? I need to give him back our keys and we also need to call a cab.”
“See Penny, even these people want to come inside to talk to Darin.” He had to get her to come inside before she left. Tina and John would flip out completely if they knew Penny was right here, and he didn't do anything to bring them together.
“Yes,” Ilona said, smiling mischievously and winking at Penny. “Let'
s go see Darin. I want to tell him that you are a real hero and you saved our lives right here on his property.” Gently, she nudged Penny toward the door. Stephen came up and gave her a hug.
“She's more than a hero, she's an angel,” he said, looking up at Ron. “I'm sorry, I'm Stephen Okos,” he said holding his hand out to Ron for a handshake.
Shaking hands, Ron said, “Parrish, Ron Parrish. Nice to meet you. I work with Penny,” he beamed proudly, wondering if these people were Darin's friends or relatives. “She is an angel, but we want her to stay at the Globe.” He looked at Penny. “I had no idea, Darin wanted you to stay here.”
“Darin.” Ilona repeated slowly, drawing his name out like saltwater taffy. “Can we go inside now?” She asked, holding a compact and powdering her face. The duct tape had left red marks on her cheeks, and had pulled off a tiny bit of skin from the tip of her nose. She unsuccessfully tucked a few stray hairs back into her bun.
Preferring goddess to angel, Penny had to head back home to salvage the few shopping hours she had before Christmas. She wanted to decorate the tree with her dad and hoped to spend some time selecting something special for John. “I really should head for the airport,”She said, pointing at the car she had parked behind Stephen's rental. “Ron, I'm so exhausted, I think I need a vacation from my vacation,” she added, laughing in the middle of a yawn.
“We understand,” Ilona said with a nod, “but can we at least buy you a soda before you go? Do they have a vending machine?”
