by C. L. Bevill
Yes. I’ll be near.
You always seem to be. Jane was sincere, trying to discern the other one’s motives.
There was another pause. The driver started the van.
Have you started to remember? the other one’s question was imperative.
I remember a man, whose face I can’t quite see. He’s very important to me. He saved me from something at a cost so dear it can’t be put into words.
There was great pain. Death was scratching at the door. It was so close I can almost remember—
Jane realized the important point immediately. You don’t remember either. You’re just like me.
No, his thought was heavy with burden, not just like you.
Chapter 16
No one dreams of going to where they will kill him.
– African proverb
Trying to understand someone who was more than reluctant to share information was no little amount of difficult. Jane wanted to scream at the other one in her mind. Give me more! Of all the people on this earth, I’m the one who can understand the most bizarre! Look at what’s happened, what’s happening now! But she had a very good idea that he would only give her what he could and nothing more.
Perhaps he’s as conflicted as I am. Jane sighed heavily, trying to dispel the vexation and underlying fear. The Hispanic girl shot her an odd look and turned to watch where they were going. The van headed into the Quarter and then bypassed it for the central business district. Traffic was running a little heavy. It took her a moment to figure out that it was Friday and everyone had places to go on a Friday morning in New Orleans.
“You know about this place?” the Hispanic girl whispered to Jane after a few minutes. Her accent was heavy, and the agitation on her face was palpable.
“The Barbeau Building?” Jane asked.
“Sí. You know about it?”
Jane looked at the driver. The radio was on, blaring country music from tinny speakers. A woman sang about how her boyfriend left her and how much she was crying into her pillow at night. The driver tapped his fingers along to the music. He watched the traffic and sang under his breath. He wasn’t paying attention to Jane or his other passengers.
It didn’t seem different from the other jobs Jane had gone on for Titus Perdue. He picked crews for specific jobs. He gave them instructions, or he gave the drivers instructions. The driver delivered them to the building and unloaded the necessary equipment. Jane had seen the mops and cleaning supplies in the back of the van when she’d climbed in, not whips and chains. Sometimes the driver stayed and supervised. More often, the driver returned to Titus to run other crews around.
“No. What’s the problem?” Jane asked the girl.
“They say people go in this building, never come back out,” the girl muttered. She clutched a medium-sized cross hanging from a gold chain around her neck. “That man, Señor Titus, he pick only young women to go in.” She looked at the driver to see if he was interested in what she was saying. He wasn’t. “Me? I got a family. They’d know if I went missing. But who would they tell? The policía don’t care about no migratorios.”
Okay, I didn’t want to hear this. “If Titus lost all his employees in some freaky building, he wouldn’t have any left,” Jane said in response. “Then he wouldn’t make money and get to go sailing on his big boat. It would be all bad-bad for everyone.” See. Don’t be silly. I’m paranoid, but the poor immigrant worker without papers shouldn’t be afraid. She swallowed. Hell yes, she should be afraid.
The third woman said, “We’ve all heard things about the Barbeau Building. They say don’t clean there after dark.”
Jane didn’t care if the building had a squadron of ghosts dancing the Hustle in concert to an antique seventies song. “I’m sure if we avoid dark hallways it’ll be fine,” she said. The words were the right ones, but the tone was neutral. She couldn’t even convince herself.
Get out of there as soon as you can, the other one thought to her. I can feel your apprehension soaking into my bones like liquid fear. I’m coming right now. I’m on my way.
Jane judged the driver. He was in his late thirties and a heavy smoker. He had a beer gut and didn’t look like he liked to move anywhere fast. She had gained some strength over the last week and a half. As soon as the van stopped, Jane would be sprinting for the street. She would fade into the nearest crowd, and Titus wouldn’t see her again. Maybe the two other women would see the clarity in her actions and follow suit.
Something is wrong. Jane didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was time to go. She would beg on a corner before she starved to death.
“They have people who watch you all the time,” the third woman murmured. “I know someone who cleaned there last month. Ain’t no one wants to go back. They have two men who watch all the time, like we goin’ to steal their toilet paper or something. They never let you onto the floors above four. The owners are— ” she paused and forked her fingers in the sign of the devil, “— who knows what?”
The van slowed, and the driver made a left into a narrow drive. Jane craned her neck and saw the tall building sitting in the middle of the property. It didn’t butt up against the street like most New Orleans properties did. Instead it sat back with a front courtyard, lined with dark pavers. It was six floors of black brick. The rows of windows on each floor were rounded in a typical construction detail. It made the exterior blend in with older buildings as if it had been built in the thirties toward the end of the Great Depression.
Somehow Jane knew the building wasn’t as old. The bricks weren’t crumbling. Their edges were straight and the corners finely cut. The doors were square, and the glass shone with a brilliant freshly polished hue. The courtyard in front was an elegant display of taste and isolated purity, as if it couldn’t be tainted by the stink of the other buildings.
They drove to one side, cutting down a narrow alley. The van took another left, following the road down an incline. There was a parking garage under the first floor in the back of the building.
Jane frowned.
The driver flashed an identification card to the security detail at the entrance to the parking garage. The guard pushed a button, and the heavy gate rolled to one side, allowing them admittance. Jane couldn’t help but notice that the remainder of the garage was completely framed with heavy iron fencing. There was only one way to drive in or out of the area. Her head slowly panned as she realized the gate was closing behind them. The fencing went from floor to ceiling. The gate was similar, sliding in from one side to open or close. She wasn’t going to be able to sprint anywhere. So much for that plan.
They can’t watch you all the time, the other one thought to her. Take a bathroom break and disappear.
The driver stopped the van nearing a small loading bay. He herded the women out, and all unloaded the equipment. He spoke his instructions in English, and Spanish for the benefit of the young Hispanic woman. “We’re cleaning the third floor. Bathrooms first. Then three kitchenettes. The offices get trash emptied and all rugs are vacuumed. Breaks at 10 and 2. Lunch is a half-hour in the cafeteria. Titus’s covered your lunch today. You’ll get a bonus if you’re done by 5 p.m.”
Two security guards appeared and nodded to the driver. Both men were in their late twenties and appeared bored.
Minutely Jane relaxed. If they were interested in her, they wouldn’t be relaxed.
Jane carried in a load, and then went up by the service elevator with the other two women and the two guards. The driver went back to the van, presumably to return to Perdue’s Cleaners to take another group of workers to another job.
The guards let the women out on the third floor and watched them get started. The other two women were used to the routine and quickly volunteered for whatever needed to be done. Jane started with one of the kitchenettes. Through the opening, she could see the guards by the elevator, chatting with each other while they kept an eye on the women. The Hispanic girl was working in a bathroom while the other woman worked
on a second kitchenette.
One of the guards laughed and turned to the elevator’s control panel. He locked it with a key card that was attached by a chain to his belt. Jane’s stomach plummeted. There wasn’t a way out. Her eyes found the stairwell entrance and found that it also required a key card. Security was an issue at this place, whatever it was.
No exits, the other one’s thoughts came to her. It wasn’t a question. It was merely confirming her suspicions.
I’d have to get too close to the guards to get one of their key cards, she thought back. Well, Jane had used her feminine wiles to cadge an invite to a party in the French Quarter. The would-be lawyer, Haley, was probably still thinking about her and her smashing of his friend’s cell phone. But she wasn’t willing to seduce a rent-a-cop for a key card.
Undoubtedly, things were off-kilter, but Jane wasn’t certain if it was all wrong. It wasn’t yet time to panic.
You can’t go back to Titus’s, came the other one’s thought. Imperative and demanding, it was an order.
They can’t watch me all the time, Jane reasoned. If I have to climb down from a third floor window I will.
The other one didn’t answer. Instead the response was a flurry of infuriated dissatisfaction, a storm cloud of rage because she wasn’t in a safe place.
Jane persisted in cleaning. Amazingly, she found that mindless activity cleared her mind and allowed her to consider scenarios. She was able to keep an eye on the guards at the same time. They weren’t really concerned with the three women, although they made certain of their location from time to time.
At ten minutes past ten, one guard called to the women and showed them to a break room on the fourth floor. There were cold drinks in the refrigerator and pre-packaged snacks. Jane took a banana from a bowl of fruit. The guards didn’t say much as they left the room. The door closed behind them, and Jane sat down in a kitchen chair. “This doesn’t seem that bad,” she said to the others. “None of the other places I’ve worked had free lunch or snacks.”
The young Hispanic girl shrugged. She kept a hand on her cross the entire time that she chewed halfheartedly on a bear claw. The third woman put her head on her arms as they rested on the table and closed her eyes. Nothing was actively after her, and she wasn’t concerned with what she couldn’t see.
Jane drank a Dr. Pepper while she thought about it. She stood up and went to the door. The guard opened it before her hand touched the knob.
Watching us somehow, she thought. Jane’s head almost turned back to see where the camera was but she controlled herself. “Need the bathroom,” she told the guard.
The guard indicated a door right next to the break room. It was a single room bathroom without a window. The door had a lock, but she already knew the guards could easily come inside if they wanted.
Jane used the facilities before washing her hands thoroughly. She didn’t need to go the extra mile, but she wanted the time to think.
Not in the back of her mind, but off to one side, she could sense the other one’s agitated frustration and did something she hadn’t done before. Calm down, she thought to him. I’m not hurt. No one is threatening me.
The doors are locked. No one answers, he sent back. I can’t get to you.
Calm down, she repeated, half to herself. Don’t break a door down. I’m with the other women. It will be all right.
How do you know?
Know what?
That it will be all right? His turbulent confliction saturated her flesh.
Jane didn’t answer. She didn’t know.
* * *
The remainder of the day went as it should have gone. Jane and the two other women cleaned the offices. She didn’t see anyone else but the two guards and the other women. For an office it was remarkably empty, exceptionally so for a Friday afternoon.
The other one didn’t speak to her, but Jane felt him throughout the day. Antsy, disturbed, worried. The feelings stuck in Jane’s gut, and she tried to remain serene in order to soothe the other one.
I guess I really am insane, she decided. I’m trying to calm a voice in my head.
It’s more than that, the other one thought immediately. Don’t be foolish. Just because someone said you shouldn’t experience something doesn’t mean it’s impossible. The impossible is always possible.
Jane wrung out a mop and smiled grimly. That’s incredibly poetic. Did you quote someone?
I don’t remember. There was a brief spurt of humor that came to Jane. It sounds like something I would tell my sis—
Jane stood up straight. “You remembered,” she said aloud. “You remembered something.”
I have a sister, the thought was slow and concise. I have a little sister.
Her hair was dyed blonde, Jane thought. The other one remembered, but more incredibly, she remembered, too. She wanted it to look like—
Like yours.
My hair isn’t blonde.
It used to be blonde.
Jane glanced at a nearby window. The day had faded away. The work on the floor was more time-consuming than she’d anticipated. It was well after 5 p.m. She looked around and found a clock on a wall. It was half past six. Even Titus would be getting nervous at the failure to return.
Over her shoulder she noticed the guards talking to each other. They directed her a quick look and their voices lowered.
That didn’t seem very good, she told herself. The other one agreed with a silent, It doesn’t.
“I’ve got to use the bathroom again,” Jane announced.
“Can’t you hold it?” one guard asked petulantly.
“No,” Jane replied, allowing a despondent wail to color her tone. “Gotta go. It’s not like I scheduled it.”
“You take her,” the taller guard said to the other one. His name tag said Carleton. The taller one’s tag said Rayburn.
Carleton motioned at Jane. Jane glanced at the other women. Both were gathering cleaning supplies to take back downstairs.
The guard used his key card on the elevator’s lock. The door opened, and Jane followed him in. He looked at her curiously as she deliberately shifted from foot to foot. “What?” she said to him. “You never had to go bad?”
Carleton shrugged. A moment later the elevator doors slid open on the fourth floor. She rushed to the bathroom with the guard trailing behind. Jane shut the door and locked it. She looked up as she fumbled with her pants. If they have cameras in the break room, why not completely shatter the law and put them in the bathroom?
There was an answering growl in her head.
Jane took her time. She wouldn’t have another opportunity. She washed her hands thoroughly again. When she opened the door, the guard was fiddling with his cell phone. It took her a few moments to understand he was playing some sort of game on it. He wasn’t focused on her, and he hadn’t heard the door open.
Jane’s eyes surveyed the area, seeking out a handy escape. More offices were on this floor, larger offices with doors left open. However, no one sat at the desks, and the area had an atmosphere of abandonment. The carpet looked as if it had been vacuumed and then left alone. There were a few footprints in the nap but no one walked this way recently.
Best of all, the elevator doors were still open. Did one need a key card to push the interior buttons? No, one did not.
Jane inched toward the doors. The guard was bent over his Droid. “Fuck,” he said. “How the hell do you get that pig? Birds in space, my ass.” She took another step. His head remained down, and he was jamming his fingers on the screen of the phone as if stabbing them harder would make the game accede to his demands. “Go. Go. Go,” he muttered.
Well, okay, if you insist, Jane thought and stepped into the elevator.
Carleton looked up, saw Jane in the elevator reaching for the control panel and looked back down at his Droid. His head snapped back up again as the doors started to shut. “Hey,” he said. “You can’t do that.”
Jane shrugged. Apparently, I can.
Dropping
the phone, he lunged forward, and his fingers caught the edge of the door, but his digits didn’t intrude far enough to trip the sensor that would prompt the door to re-open. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled as the doors shut all the way.
Jane pressed the first floor button. She tapped her foot as the elevator passed the third floor. Certainly, Carleton would be calling the other guard and alerting him. But he wouldn’t have had time to stop the elevator. The second floor lighted. The elevator began to slow.
I only have seconds to shake my tail feathers. If there wasn’t a guard waiting for her, there would be one coming. If she couldn’t get out of the building, she could find a phone and call the police and threaten the building with a bomb or something equally provoking to law enforcement. Better to be in jail than trapped in this building with guards who were evidently up to something.
The other one thought something to her. Someone just drove into the parking garage. Someone in a limo.
I’ll go out the front, Jane thought back. “Nobody puts baby in a corner.”
Now who’s quoting?
I would say me, but I can’t remember from what I’m quoting.
The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. Jane was out before they finished opening. She looked around. One direction led to the parking garage. The other way went toward the front of the building. She dashed that way. Behind her she heard, “Stop!”
A lumbering guard jumped in front of Jane and reached out toward her. She bent sideways and went under his arms. His fingertips brushed against her back, slid off her shirt, and clutched pure air. He grunted as she swept past. “Sorry,” she said as she poured on speed.
Passing an office on one side, Jane caught sight of a woman who was working on a computer. Her startled green eyes came up and caught Jane’s. Instead of continuing to be startled, the woman’s expression changed to wry amusement.
