Then the noise stopped.
I listened, willing the invader to go away, still constricting my breath for fear of being heard. I thought I heard shoes scraping on the cement. I stayed frozen on my bed, waiting and listening. Three minutes passed or maybe five. It seemed like an eternity. A car engine started and I heard a car pull away. It was so quiet I could hear the faint buzz of the station’s fluorescent lights.
Still, I waited, like a rabbit in its hole, too terrified to come out and make sure the hound had left for good. All the time I kept wondering, Where is Earl?
Finally, I got my courage up and crawled out of the sleeping compartment. I peeked out the camper window. All I could see were halos of light circling the station’s floodlights amid the dense fog.
I quietly slipped on a raincoat and thrust some shoes on my feet.
Gently I unlocked the door. The click as the lock opened sent an electric shock up my spine.
My heart thumping, I stepped outside. The damp air made everything look hazy.
“Earl?” I called out in a low voice. There wasn’t any answer.
As I crept toward the front of the station, I saw that something was holding the door to the men’s room open. A shoe?
I walked over and gingerly pushed on the door. Earl was sprawled on the tile floor, not moving, a bloody gash visible on the side of his head.
“Earl,” I called, struggling to keep my terror under control. “Oh, God, Earl! Can you hear me?”
I knelt and touched his neck. He was still warm. But he didn’t answer or move. I darted around the building and into the office to call 911.
“I need an ambulance right away.” I was close to hysteria. “At the Shell Station on El Camino and Burlingame Avenue. Hurry! Someone’s hurt.”
“Is this a police emergency or a medical emergency, ma’am?” The operator answered me in a calm voice.
“I—I d-don’t know.” I was stuttering. “Both. Earl is bleeding and I don’t know what happened to him. Please, you have to hurry.”
“I’m dispatching an emergency vehicle now to your location. They’ll be on the scene in five minutes,” she said. “Try to remain calm. Is the patient breathing?”
“I don’t know. He felt warm, but his head is bleeding.”
“Is he conscious?”
“N-no,” I stammered. “Please hurry. I’m scared.”
“It’s going to be okay. Try to stay calm, miss. What’s your name?”
“Ashley,” I said.
“It’s going to be all right, Ashley. Who is injured? Your boyfriend? Your brother?”
“A friend,” I said.
“How old is your friend?”
“Old,” I said. “I don’t know—about seventy.”
“Do you know what happened? Did he fall or could he have had a heart attack?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know.” I was gripping the phone receiver as if it somehow were holding me upright. “I think someone may have hit him.”
“Take it easy, Ashley. Try to stay calm. Can you check his breathing and see if his airway needs clearing?”
“How do I do that?” I said doubtfully, but before I could move, I heard the sound of a siren. I dropped the phone to dash outside. A fire-department rescue truck pulled up in front.
“He’s around here,” I motioned as two men in heavy black-and-yellow jackets jumped down from the truck. Laden with equipment, they rushed around the corner toward the men’s restroom. One of them went inside and crouched beside Earl.
“He’s breathing, but it’s shallow,” I heard him call to his partner, and I almost collapsed on the pavement from relief.
In the distance I heard a second siren, and within seconds a police car pulled up. Out of it jumped my old tormentor, Officer Strobel.
He looked at me, then walked over to talk in a low voice to the paramedics.
“Will he be all right?” I interrupted them. “Is he going to be okay?”
“They’re going to transport him to a hospital as soon as an ambulance gets here,” Strobel said. “Why don’t we get out of their way?”
His hand closed on my arm like a vise as he led me into the office. The cash drawer was hanging open. It was empty.
“What happened here, Ashley? Was there a robbery?”
“I don’t know,” I gasped. “I was looking for Earl and I found him in the men’s room, just lying there with his head bleeding. I don’t know if he fell or if someone hit him. I was afraid he was dead. He’s not going to die, is he?”
“They’re taking good care of him. But I need you to tell me who did this. What were you doing here at this hour? How do you know Earl?”
I started to cry, and Strobel half led, half pushed me into a chair.
“I need a handkerchief,” I mumbled. He rummaged through the desk and pulled out a box of tissues. As I wiped at my tears and blew my nose, my brain whirled, trying to come up with a credible story about why I was here. I didn’t want to tell Strobel that I slept in the camper if I could help it.
“All right, can you tell me what happened now?”
I nodded and began, just slightly bending the facts. “I stopped by, you know, to see Earl. I didn’t see him in the office when I pulled in, but I thought he was in the back or something. After I parked, I was walking past the men’s room and I saw him lying there. When I realized he was unconscious, I called 911.”
“What about the cash drawer?”
“I didn’t even notice it until now.”
“So you didn’t see anyone here? No cars were pulling out as you pulled in?”
“No, I didn’t see anything. No one was here.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“Earl. And the phone. Maybe the desk when I called.”
“The cash drawer?”
“No, I told you, I didn’t notice it was open.”
“Good, maybe we can get some prints off of it.”
I thought of the hand yanking on the camper’s door latch and then thrust it out of my mind. I wasn’t going to bring the camper to his attention, no matter what.
“What happened to your hand? Is that Earl’s blood?”
I looked down at my hand. It was bloody from the knife cut. I stared at it without answering.
“Tell me why you’re here, Ashley. This is an odd hour to make a social call. Why did you park your car in the back?”
“Earl’s a friend of mine,” I said. “I stop by sometimes to talk to him. He likes me to park back there, out of the way.”
“You and Earl are friends?”
“Yeah,” I retorted. “Why is that so hard to understand? He’s a nice old man. And you know very well that my mother’s boyfriend owns this gas station. I know everyone who works here.”
Suddenly, I thought of Phil.
“Oh, God, I better call Phil and tell him about this.”
“Yeah, do that. Tell him we need him to come down here,” he said. “I’ll find out how Earl is doing. What’s his last name?”
“Yankowski,” I said. “He lives with his daughter and her kids in San Mateo. I don’t know the address.”
Strobel nodded and went back to confer with the firemen. I dialed Phil’s number. Luckily, he answered right away, and I told him about Earl as well as the story I had concocted for Strobel. He said he’d be right down.
By the time Phil got there, the ambulance had already left with Earl in the back. I sat in the office, listening to Strobel question Phil about the amount of cash that might have been in the drawer. Finally, I interrupted them.
“Listen, can I go to the hospital? I’m worried about Earl.”
Phil stared at me as if I had suddenly grown a second head or third eye, but he didn’t say a word.
“All right, go ahead,” Strobel said. “Just leave me your address and phone number so I can get in touch if I have more questions.”
I gave him Gloria’s address and the number of my cell phone.
“I’d like a word with you, Ashley,”
Phil finally spoke up.
“I’ll come by here tomorrow, after I find out how Earl is doing,” I said, giving him a look that I hoped said, Keep your mouth shut.
As I turned to leave, Strobel said, “You know, it’s lucky you stopped by here tonight. He might have bled to death before someone found him.”
I shuddered and walked away.
• • •
At the hospital, no one would tell me anything because I stupidly admitted that I was a friend and not a relative. Some officious clerk kept asking me whether Earl had any insurance. As if I knew! She couldn’t seem to think about anything except whether they were going to get paid, never mind that someone’s life was in jeopardy. I told her so in a scornful voice, and we took turns glaring at each other. I grudgingly gave her Phil’s phone number but refused to stop badgering her about Earl’s condition.
I must have worn her down because she disappeared into the back and a nurse emerged to tell me that Earl was stable and I should go home.
Minutes later the insurance queen returned to her chair and began shooting hateful looks at me from behind her desk. Just to make it clear she wasn’t driving me away, I lingered in the waiting room, enjoying their hard little chairs and fluorescent lights for a few more minutes as I debated where to go.
Finally, I went back to my car and drove around aimlessly. It was almost two in the morning—too late to check into a motel. Anyway, without a credit card, no one would rent me a room.
Every muscle and joint in my body ached all of a sudden. I needed to lie down somewhere, anywhere. I drove through the dark, foggy streets and somehow ended up in front of Gloria’s house. I parked at the curb and stared at the darkened windows. No one stirred. I couldn’t wake them all up, and what would I say if I did? I gave up, slumped over on the front seat, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
• • •
I woke up to the banging and clanging sound of the garbage truck. Stiff and dazed, I sat up and looked at my watch. It was nearly seven. Soon the whole neighborhood would be peering out their windows and wondering whose car was parked outside. If Gloria spotted my car, she would come out to interrogate me. I didn’t feel any more prepared to answer questions today than I had last night. I quickly started my car and drove back to the gas station. Everything looked normal, and Phil’s truck wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Bolting inside the camper to grab some clothes and makeup, I was back out in seconds. Still, Reynaldo managed to waylay me as I was throwing stuff into the backseat of my car.
“Hey, Ash-lee, Phil is looking for you. He wants you to call him right away.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll call him.”
“We were robbed last night, while you were gone?” He made the last part sound like a question.
“Do you know how Earl is?” I asked.
“Phil talked to the hospital. Earl had a concussion and bruised ribs, but they let him go home. Maybe his guardian angel was watching over him last night.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said with real relief, feeling as if an immense weight had been lifted off my chest. I could breathe normally again. Maybe everything really would be all right. I moved into the driver’s seat. “I have to hurry or I’ll be late for work. Tell Phil I’ll call him later.”
I lied, of course. Saturday was my day off. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I didn’t want to talk to Phil yet. He would want me to move out, and I had to figure out how to persuade him to let me stay. As frightening as staying in the camper now seemed, being tossed out was even more terrifying. Surely I could get a better lock for the door or maybe even a heavy metal chain. Phil had to let me stay. Where else could I go?
Chapter Twenty-One
After a quick shower at the health club, I called Reynaldo to get Earl’s home address. I needed to see for myself that he was all right, and find out exactly what story he told the cops.
Earl’s place turned out to be a small frame duplex in the “less expensive” section of San Mateo. Still, the building was painted a friendly yellow and the yard was tidy. I knocked on the door and heard him call, “It’s open.”
As I opened the door, I saw him propped up on a tweed sofa watching a rerun of Law and Order. He was pale and had a bandage on his head and another on his chest. “Hey, you don’t look too bad,” I said. “Are you sure you didn’t fake an injury just to get a little time off?”
“Hello, baby doll. Not too bad for an old guy who just got his butt kicked, eh?” he retorted. His voice was more raspy than usual. “I’m feeling no pain thanks to the pills they’re giving me. Especially now that you’re here to talk to me.”
“I was worried about you,” I said, lightly touching the unbandaged side of his forehead and smoothing back his wiry gray hair. “Where’s your daughter?”
“I told her not to miss work. She’ll be back later. I expect Phil will stop by too.”
I sat down in the chair next to the sofa.
“So, what happened last night? That was the single most terrifying night of my life.”
“I was pretty terrified myself, with that punk kid waving a gun in my face. I didn’t know if it was loaded or not, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He helped himself to free gas and the money in the drawer, then tried to lock me in the bathroom. When my back was turned, he thumped me good with his pistol. I’d like a chance to thump him back.”
“He tried to open the camper door. Do you think he knew I was in there?”
“He did?” Earl thought that over for a moment.
“No, he couldn’t have known you were there. It was a slow night, not much money in the drawer, probably less than a hundred. He must have been after anything he could lay his hands on. He had a kind of wild-eyed look, like he was on drugs.”
“Who was it? Did you know him?”
“Nope,” Earl said, shaking his head for emphasis. “Never saw him before. The police already asked me all that and everything else under the sun. He must have come in off the freeway in the fog and probably took off the same way. I doubt he’ll be back.”
“I hope not. I never want to go through that again. What did you tell Strobel about me?”
“Don’t worry, I figured you wouldn’t want Teddy to know that you were staying in the camper. I told him you stopped by now and then to brighten an old man’s night.”
“And he believed you?”
“Seemed to. Why not? It’s the truth, more or less.”
Relieved, I sank back into the chair. “Now all I have to worry about is Phil. He wants to talk to me. I’m afraid he’s going to make me move out, and I’m not ready to leave yet.”
“You do need to move. Living at the station is dangerous. Of course, nobody gives a hill of beans for my opinion, but I’ve never understood why Phil let you stay there. I’ll hate to see you go, but you need to find somewhere safer to live.”
“I know, I know. But not yet. Would you talk to Phil for me? I know you can persuade him to let me stay just a little longer.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll talk to him. After all, you saved my life. Teddy said I might have bled to death if you hadn’t found me. These scalp wounds bleed something fierce.”
“You’re too tough to die,” I joked. “But what’s all this ‘Teddy’ stuff? Strobel’s a jerk.”
“Oh, Teddy stops by the station now and then. He’s a good guy who wants to make the world safe from evildoers, and that’s not a bad ambition for an officer of the law. I admit he’s a bit overeager at times and a stickler for going by the rules. Still, his heart is in the right place.”
“I find it hard to believe he has a heart.” I sniffed.
“Don’t be too hard on him. He sounded as if he admired you,” Earl teased me.
“Oh, please. Now I know you’re out of your head. They must have given you too much medication. That guy has never given me anything except a hard time.”
“Is that a fact? I think you might be missing something there.”
I just s
hook my head. We both fell silent for a moment, as the familiar sounds of screeching tires and slamming doors serenaded us from the television.
I stood up. “Well, I better get going. Do you need anything?”
“Naw, I’m fine. Just stay away from the camper until I get things fixed up with Phil. I’m expecting him to stop by any time now. I’ll talk to him.”
“I’ll make myself scarce for a day or two,” I said.
After I left Earl, I wasn’t sure where to go next. Finally, I went back to Gloria’s house.
As I pulled up to the curb, Stella leaped off the porch railing and dashed across the lawn toward my car. When I opened the door, she looked up at me and began yowling her welcome or complaints, I wasn’t sure which.
“Hello, Fat Cat,” I murmured as I lifted her in my arms. “How’s my beauty?” I stroked her silky fur and she meowed energetically, telling me all her problems. At least Stella hadn’t forgotten me.
“I missed you too,” I told her as I walked to the front door and rang the bell.
The door flew open and Gloria’s two demons stared at me from behind the screen door. Then the younger one, Matthew, darted away and I could hear him yelling, “It’s her. It’s her.”
Good grief, you’d think I was the Wicked Witch of the West.
“Hello,” I said politely to the older one—Daniel.
Gloria’s head appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen and then she walked toward me, her slippers slapping on the floor.
“Her name is Ashley and you know it,” she said. “Hi, Ashley. I see you’ve found Stella already.”
“She came running up to my car. She’s never done that before. I think she misses me.”
Gloria lifted her hand to smooth back her flyaway hair. “I’m sure she does. These two stinkers don’t understand that you need to be gentle with a cat. A tiger would be a better pet for them.”
“We want a tiger! We want a tiger!” Matthew started chanting at top volume. I tried not to wince.
“What brings you over today? Are you taking Stella with you?”
“I wish! No, I stopped by to...” I hesitated for a moment, on the verge of dumping all my problems in her lap, but then I just couldn’t do it. “To see what was happening and pick up my mail.”
My Lost and Found Life Page 16
