Johnson Junction
Page 4
“Good afternoon, Richard.” A man seated in one of the wing chairs rose and turned around. “I’ve brought Madeleine,” Evelyn said quietly.
Richard Waverly was one of the most striking men I had ever seen. He was tall, slender yet muscular, with rugged and handsome features. His hair was snow white yet full and wavy. He turned to look at the two of us and simply said “Good afternoon.” His voice was rich and full and commanding.
He walked to the desk. “Please have a seat. Could I get you anything?”
I sat in one of the chairs by the desk, feeling I was obeying an order. Evelyn remained standing. “I have to get back to the office, Richard.” The tone of her voice was so unlike anything I’d heard from her, I glanced to see if she was okay. As she returned my look her beautiful blue eyes seemed faded, a little lost. “Dear, I’ll be either in my office or my apartment. You can give me a call if you need me.” She glanced at her ex-husband and turned and left the room.
Waverly selected one of the crystal glasses from the credenza and poured amber liquid into it from a crystal decanter. “Neat, it’s so much better than watered down with ice. Would you like one?”
I had to clear my throat. “No sir, thank you though.”
“Well then, Madeleine – I believe Evelyn calls you Maddy? Maddy – let’s get to know each other a little better, what do you say?” He swirled the liquor in his glass.
I felt an unpleasant tingle begin to work its way through my limbs. “Yes, sir.”
He walked across the room to the door, called for Lupe, then spoke softly to her when she appeared. He closed the door behind him as she left and I heard the latch shut with a distinct click.
He returned and and sat on the edge of his desk. “Evelyn didn’t tell me that you were so pretty.”
I shifted in my seat and smiled, unsure.
“We don’t have too many pretty women apply for jobs around here,” he commented, as he took a sip from his glass. “Most of them are married and – so to speak – rode hard and put away wet.” He chuckled at his own wit.
I managed a choked laugh. “What did you want to see me about?”
“I know you’re a smart young woman, otherwise Evelyn wouldn’t have taken you under her wing like she has. I think one of the first things you should realize about Johnson Junction is that NOTHING escapes my attention.” He leaned toward me for emphasis, so close I could smell the liquor on his breath. “NOTHING.”
I felt my back cringe into the leather chair. “Yes sir, I am sure of that.”
“Your new friend Donna has worked for me quite a number of years. Did you know that?” He swallowed again from the glass.
“Not really,” I said.
“She and I have – an understanding.”
“Yes, sir.”
“She understands that I need to know everything that goes on around here, anyone who comes through here, and certainly any gossip or innuendo that might be spread.” He returned to the credenza to fill his glass. “Do you have an understanding of that as well?”
I felt a trickle of sweat collecting between my breasts. “Yes sir, I do believe I know exactly what you mean.”
He came back to my chair, set his glass down on the edge of the desk, and stood behind me. I stiffened as he placed his hands on my shoulders. “There are, indeed, several levels of understanding here at the Junction.” He began to gently massage my shoulders and neck. “One level of understanding refers to the fact that most of the men who work here are gay. They don’t conflict the women.” He stroked the sides and front of my throat and I felt my bra soaking up the trickle of sweat that was becoming a stream. “Another level of understanding is that there is absolutely no discussion of any of the ladies who work for me in the gift shop – I think you know the ones to whom I refer.”
“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.
“And yet, another level of understanding involves the fact that I am in absolute control of all matters pertaining to the Junction.” At this, he pressed two of his fingers into the front of my neck and I swallowed involuntarily.
“Stand up,” he commanded.
As I rose he came around my chair, and pushed me so that I sat down hard on his desk, narrowly missing his glass. He picked it up and drained it.
He faced me, and parted my legs so he could stand between them. I was wearing one of my new gifts from Evelyn – a silky red shirt that buttoned up the front – and a pair of black slacks. “Understanding,” he whispered on my face, “is paramount to the success of any organization.” He stroked the side of my face and my eyes followed his hand as he let it drift to the buttons of my blouse. I sucked in my breath.
“Is there anything you DON’T understand at this point?”
I actually understood him very well.
He deftly unbuttoned my blouse and parted it, reaching with a fluid motion and scooping my breasts from my bra. The pit of my stomach lurched as he fondled my nipples. He slid me toward himself and my crotch met with solid hardness. “Stand up.”
My mouth went dry.
I obeyed as he unfastened my pants and slid them over my hips, along with my panties. “Be a good girl, now, and step out.”
He lifted me back onto the desk and I closed my eyes as he unzipped. With a swift motion he entered me, filling me painfully. I braced my arms behind me on the desk as he grasped my legs and held them around his waist, thrusting into me with force I’d not felt in many years. I shut my eyes tightly as he pounded me, and as he came he grasped my thighs so hard I would have bruises for a week.
“Ahhh,” he moaned, “Understand THAT.”
I sat on the edge of the desk, eyes closed, as I heard him redress and leave the room. Tears clouded my eyes as I gathered my garments and put them on, snatching a linen napkin from the credenza to fold in my underwear and soak up his seed. My face felt flushed; I managed a few deep breaths and walked to the door. Looking out up and down the hallway, no one saw me as I limped to the front door.
As I walked the dirt ribbon road toward my room, my little haven, I understood the delivered message all too well. There are times in life when we have little choice. My current situation, by my own decisions and actions, had landed us at that exact moment in time. I needed a roof over my son’s head that Waverly provided. And would continue to provide, until we could move on.
8
The Junction van pulled into the small parking lot belonging to a couple of adjacent apartment buildings in town. A few old cars and a couple of ancient pickups dotted the lined spaces. Tony Lozano and the driver got out, and the driver came around and slid open the side door. He assisted two of the gift shop workers as they climbed down from their seats. Tony squinted as he watched them through the smoky haze from his cigarette. He shut the door behind them and crushed the butt beneath his boot.
The apartment complex consisted of twelve units. The adobe was faded and cracked, but gravel patches beside the structures were free of weeds and the sidewalks freshly swept. Each of the front entries was clean and neat, the little enclave an asset to its neighborhood. The residents were guests of Mr. Waverly.
Tony knocked on one of the downstairs doors and stood waiting with one of the pregnant ladies. The driver helped the other woman up the exterior steps and they too knocked on an upstairs door.
The downstairs door swung open and an elderly woman answered. She gasped and clasped her hands together as she cried, “Leticia! Gracias a Dios!” and pulled the young expectant mother into a gentle hug. She led her granddaughter to the sofa as the three of them went into the apartment. Tony closed the door.
The women sat in quiet greetings as Tony surveyed the tidy room. He sniffed, the aroma of home cooking heavy in the air. “Smells good, Abuela. Que es? Pork roast?”
“Si, Senor Tony.”
“Well, that’s nice.” He helped himself to the other chair in the room and folded his hands in his lap. “We came for a quick visit, Abuela. It won’t be long until you and Leticia will be able to leave.”
Tony smiled broadly. “Of course, Abuela. Just as I promised. You’ll have a nice, clean set of papers and enough money to go wherever you want. Ahora, now, con permiso, I need to go upstairs and check on Juanita. You’ll behave?”
“Naturalmente, Senor,” the grandmother answered, lowering her eyes in deference. “I see my Leticia once every dos semanas for the last nine months. I know what to do.”
Tony rose, nodded, and left by the front door. He climbed the steps to the apartment of Juanita and knocked. A teenaged boy answered. “Morning, Mr. Tony.” He opened the door for the lawyer. The van driver sat on a small sofa, watching television.
Tony went in and found Juanita Ojeda in the kitchen, preparing pinto beans for cooking. “Everything okay here, Juanita?” He placed his arm around her shoulders.
“Yes, Mr. Tony, okay.” She sighed, unsmiling, as she rinsed beans in a colander beneath the sink faucet.
“Bueno. Cristian looks fine today, don’t you think?” He looked at the young man standing behind them.
“Si, he is doing very well. He is getting good marks in the school, and I’m very proud of him.”
Tony released her and said, “Fine, I’m pleased too. I’ll give you about half an hour, then we need to head back.”
She nodded in compliance.
Tony stepped outside on the landing and pulled the door closed behind him, removing his cigarettes from a pocket and lighting up. He turned his attention to his cell phone, and pressed a favorite button. “Hola, Rafe. Que pasa?” He paused. “When do you think you can bring her up?” He listened to the response. “Sounds great. I’ll tell Waverly to expect you. Is she as hot as you said?” He smiled.
Rafael “Rafe” Trujillo sat facing a young couple in a booth. The truck stop was busy that morning and the air was heavily scented with bacon and fried potatoes. A waitress paused at their table with a carafe; “Fill up?” Rafe nodded and pushed his cup forward.
The young man looked at his sister and then at Rafe. “So, as soon as the baby is born, we get good papers? And dinero?” He reached under the table and clasped her hand.
“Yes, mucho dinero. Enough to get to wherever you want. You get a free apartment while she stays with us, and we can fix you up with some work too. The time will be gone before you know it.” Rafe sipped his coffee and then grabbed the sugar shaker. He tipped it toward his cup. “There’s no problems, easy work, easy money.”
The young man lowered his head sadly. “I understand. Estrella does too. All that you ask is that she give a part of herself away . . .” his voice trailed softly.
Rafe sighed and looked at them both sternly. “You must ask yourselves, if you have trouble with this idea, what is it that the two of you REALLY want? You need money, you need a new start, you want new lives. Is this not a wonderful way to get it all?” He picked a piece of bacon from his plate and munched. “Times are hard, yes?” He pointed his finger at the boy. “You better fucking believe it.” He reached across the table and gently touched a lock of the girl’s blonde hair. “I think I can say, too, you might be able to get a little bonus for this.” He let her hair slip between his fingers.
The brother looked at his sister, her classic face and endearing blue eyes. He said sadly, “Yes, Senor Rafe. She is worth so much more.”
“Okay then, do we have a deal?”
The girl nodded to her brother and then turned her face to the window, a tear sliding down her cheek.
“Deal.” The two men shook hands.
Rafe withdrew his cell from his shirt pocket. He pressed a button and waited.
“It’s done. Can you come by the truck stop before you head back?”
The van eased into a parking spot on the far side of the lot, away from the gas pumps. The driver waited in the van with the women while Tony got out and stood at the rear of the vehicle. He watched as Rafe and a young couple exited the front doors and headed his way. “Oy, que linda,” he murmured as he scrutinized the girl. “He’ll be pleased.”
Rafe brought the young man before Tony and introduced them. “Tony Lozano, this is Miguel – and this - is Estrella.”
Tony shook the boy’s hand very professionally. “I’m pleased to meet you both. Your English is good?”
“Yes, Senor. I understand most all, and so does my sister.”
“Great,” smiled Tony. “Well, here’s how it goes. Your sister will be leaving with us, and Rafe will take you over to the apartments. We have one that is just now empty – but it’s furnished, and we have stocked it with everything you should need. You’ll find it’s muy confortable, very comfortable. You will have a phone in the house for local calls only, and you have Rafe’s number if you need anything. Estrella will be coming to see you once every two weeks, once we have confirmed that she is with child. You will see her on this schedule until the baby is born, and then you and she will be able to leave when the papers we need are signed, and we bring you your new identification and traveling money. Do you understand and agree to all of these terms?”
The brother clutched his sister’s hand and then wrapped his arm around her waist. “Yes, Senor Lozano. We understand perfectamente.”
Tony smiled. “Great. Let’s get going.” He slid the side door open and as Estrella climbed in, his gaze lingered on her figure. “Rafe, you’re in charge of Miguel. Give me a call.”
Rafe put his hand on Miguel’s shoulder and they turned from the van. Estrella placed her palm on the window beside her seat as she watched her brother walk away.
9
Corazon de Maldonado, R.N. picked up her bottle of disinfectant spray and plucked several cleaning cloths from a small corrugated box. She wiped down the stainless steel work table in the center of the room and methodically turned her attention to the other flat surfaces in the station. She paused to adjust a free-standing oscillating fan in the corner of the room from Medium to Low, tossed the cloths into a stainless trash receptacle whose lid she triggered with her toe, and looked around the room with a satisfied expression. She walked over to the bassinette and tenderly smoothed the little blankets inside. As a final task she opened her supply cabinet and touched the neat groupings of items one by one, verifying her inventory. When she finished she went to the door and turned off the overhead lights on her way out.
She walked across the hall of the basement to the room adjacent. Auggie was sitting at a desk, working a small stack of papers beneath a desk lamp. The room was dark except for the light of his task.
“Doctor Auggie. Don’t you know that is bad for your eyes?” She flicked the switch by the door and bathed the room in brightness.
“Dammit, Cora.” He put down his pen and rubbed his face with both hands.
She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Ah, Doctor. Too much tequila again, I tell you. Shall I fetch something from the kitchen for you? Black coffee, maybe?” She laughed lightly and squeezed his arm.
“No, love. I’ve had five cups already.” He pushed himself away from the desk and rose from his chair. “How’s everything with you this morning?” He towered over her diminutive figure.
She stood her ground and shook her finger in his face. “Auggie, Auggie. One of these days your liver is going to go ka-bluie.”
He grasped her finger and held it against his chest. “Maybe, Cora love, but not today.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Everything ready? I think we can expect Leticia soon.”
She left him and walked around the delivery table, checking to see that his order and neatness were up to her standards. “Yes, I agree. I saw her yesterday. Wouldn’t surprise me to see her in here even tonight. Were those her papers you were working on?”
Auggie sighed deeply. “Yes. They’re finished, just waiting for the details.
”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and they watched as Richard Waverly entered the room. “Morning, Auggie, and dear Cora, good morning as well.”
“Good morning, Mr. W.,” said Cora.
“Ready, Richard,” Auggie returned brightly.
“Great.” Richard smiled broadly. “Auggie old man, don’t hit it too heavily for the next couple of nights. Need you on your toes.”
I was on my ten o’clock break at work, happy to be off my feet, sitting in a booth by the windows with a cup of coffee. The morning restaurant traffic had been brisk, a tourist bus pulling in for breakfast before eight. Evelyn had sent me out of the office to work the second register at the end of the cafeteria line, a task I’d quickly come to loathe. Corinne, the full time cashier, had been grateful for the extra help.
Patrons were filing slowly out of the restaurant and into the gift shop. As I sipped my brew, I heard a woman’s voice raised, coming from the beginning of the food line. There was a wood and glass partition separating the line from the row of tables behind it, and Corinne looked over at me with her eyebrows raised. I rose from my seat and went to see if there was a problem.
Hipolito, one of the gay Mexicans whose English was marginal at best, was trying to be of service to the woman who’d raised her voice. She was alone in the line and he was the only server working. He was trying to keep a smile on his face.
“I told you, Fried Eggs. Over Hard.”
He looked at me with a panicked expression; I could see he had placed a plate on the glass shelf beneath the warming lights, with what appeared to be two very flat and dry eggs and a couple of pieces of bacon on it. I rounded the corner and approached her. “Ma’am, is there something I could help you with?”