Out of Time (Nine Minutes #2)

by Beth Flynn

  “Let’s go, baby,” he said as he handed her a helmet.

  She jumped on the back of his motorcycle and they sped off.

  Chapter Ten

  1969

  It was a few weeks after the lemonade incident when Blue told Grizz, “There’s gonna be some business at the motel today. Can you find someone to take the kid out? Get him outta here for a while?”

  “What business?” Grizz frowned at him.

  “Slash” was all Blue said.

  Grizz nodded. He knew Slash had been sharing gang secrets with a woman he was seeing from a rival gang. Grizz planned on making an example out of him. He didn’t realize Blue was having him brought to the motel today. Blue went on to explain that he’d put the word out and they were expecting a big crowd and were going to put on a little show of what would happen to someone who defied the gang. Worse yet, someone who defied Grizz.

  “Didn’t know it was today. I’ll handle it,” he told Blue. “You can take the kid somewhere.”

  “No, if you don’t mind, I want to handle it myself, Grizz. If I’m going to earn the kind of respect you have, I need to show them I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty, or in this case, bloody.”

  Grizz thought about it for a minute. “They already respect you, Blue. But fine, I have business at the bar with Mavis. I’ll take him with me.”

  Blue nodded.

  “And don’t kill him,” Grizz added. “Just make him wish he was dead.”

  An hour later, Grizz and Grunt pulled up to The Red Crab on Grizz’s motorcycle. Grizz purposely took his bike so he didn’t have to answer a million questions. The few times he’d taken Grunt on outings it always felt like an official interrogation. The kid’s brain and mouth were non-stop. He was too smart for his own good.

  This would be the second time Grunt would meet Mavis. Grizz had taken Grunt with him once to Mavis’s house to pick up some paperwork. It was when Grunt first came to live at the motel. Mavis had been recovering from minor foot surgery and had been working from her home during that time. She’d stared at the little boy that day with horror. Grunt was still extremely underweight at the time and it was obvious he had been a mistreated child. Grizz quickly explained to her that the kid was Blue’s younger brother and had been abused at home. Blue stole him away from his family. Mavis had nodded with understanding. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t pry. She accepted what Grizz told her and never addressed it again. That’s why he liked her so much.

  The realization that he actually liked someone surprised him as he was brought back to the present by Grunt’s voice.

  “Is this the bar we came to the first night?”

  “I told you to never mention that night again,” Grizz said in a low voice.

  “I know that. I just wanted to see if I remembered right. Are we going in? Are we going to get to eat here? Do you know if there’s a pinball machine in there? How about a pool table?”

  Grizz didn’t answer him. It was going to be a long day.

  As they opened the door, their senses were attacked by the ferocious stench of stale cigarettes and a grease-laden grill. Grunt waved his hand in front of his face as if to chase away the smell.

  “It really stinks in here,” he said to no one in particular.

  “White Room” by Cream was blaring on the jukebox. As Grunt’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, they widened.

  “Hey, the girls in here aren’t wearing any shirts!” He elbowed Grizz. “Where are their shirts? Why aren’t they wearing shirts?”

  Grizz looked down at the boy, tried not to smile. “Is this your first time seeing tits?”

  Grunt didn’t answer, he just stared as he followed Grizz back to a small office. Mavis was sitting at a desk and smiled when Grizz walked in. She stood up and went to give Grunt a hug after she noticed him behind Grizz.

  “Well, hello, young man. You have certainly filled out some since I saw you last. And you got a haircut. It looks nice. You still going by Runt?”

  Grunt looked at Mavis shyly. “Everybody called me Runt at first. Then Grown-up Runt, but that was too long. So now it’s just Grunt. It’s my own special name. Everybody has a special name at the motel.” Before Mavis could comment, he added, “Did you know the girls out there aren’t wearing any shirts? You’re probably the only girl in here wearing a shirt. How come you’re wearing a shirt and they’re not?”

  Grizz looked at Mavis and said, “I’ll let you handle this one. I’ll be back in a minute. Kid, you hungry?”

  “Yeah. Can I get a hamburger? Wait, no, a cheeseburger and a soda. Oh! And French fries, too.”

  “Sure, I’ll be back in a little while with it. You stay here with Mavis until I come back.”

  “Okay, Grizz,” Grunt said.

  When Grunt turned back to look at Mavis, something nagged at her. She thought he seemed familiar, but she couldn’t grab hold of a memory. Maybe she was remembering the first time she saw him when she was working from home that day, and Grizz dropped in with him. He looked different now. Healthy and strong, even if he was short for his age. But when she gave it more thought, she remembered she’d had this same feeling the first time she had met him, too. She frowned, then decided to dismiss it. With all of the children at the school, it was very possible he looked similar to one of them, that was all.

  Giving him a kind look, she asked, “So, I take it this is the first time you’ve seen female breasts?”

  She knew it wasn’t any of her business, but she thought Grizz was wrong to not give any thought to the fact that this child was probably being exposed to things that were too mature for him. Maybe she could gently and tactfully explain some things to him.

  “They’re not breasts,” Grunt said matter-of-factly. “They’re tits.”

  Before Mavis could reply, something caught his attention in the office. “What is that? Is that some kind of game?” he asked, pointing to the top of one of the filing cabinets.

  Mavis turned around and saw he was pointing to her chess set. “That’s a game called chess,” she answered him. She was secretly glad their topic had turned from breasts to chess.

  “Whose game is it?” Grunt asked inquisitively as he walked over to the filing cabinet and stood on his tiptoes to get a better look.

  “It’s my game,” Mavis answered, smiling at the memories. “I played with my husband every night before he passed away. When I found out Grizz played, I brought it here so we could play occasionally. And thanks for asking. I need to remind him that it’s his move.”

  “Can I learn to play chess? Can you teach me to play it?”

  “Sure, I’ll teach you.”

  He sat down in a chair across from her desk and reached behind him. He whipped out a small notebook. Then he took a pen that was behind his ear and looked up at her. Mavis hadn’t noticed the pen until he retrieved it.

  “What have you got there?” she asked.

  “It’s my learning notebook. Okay, tell me the rules and I’ll write them down. I write everything in my learning notebook. That way, I remember to study it later.”

  Mavis smiled warmly. She liked this child. She really liked this child.

  Grizz returned ten minutes later with Grunt’s lunch order. Grunt was writing in his notebook. Mavis looked up and told Grizz before he could ask, “He’s writing down everything he thinks he needs to know about chess. Why don’t you take this set back with you and play with him? You don’t bring him here enough for me to play with him.”

  Grizz didn’t say anything, he just nodded. Maybe it would be a good idea to play chess with the kid. If he found something else to occupy him other than poker, Grizz wouldn’t have to worry about the guys getting pissed off that the kid was winning all their money. Yes, maybe chess would be a good distraction from poker.

  Mavis stood up and took the food from Grizz’s hands.

  “Grunt, honey, why don’t you sit over here in the corner and have a picnic on the floor? We’ll bring the chess set over and you can familiarize yo
urself with the pieces.”

  Grunt shoved his notebook in the back of his pants and put his pen behind his ear. He stood up and carefully lifted the chess set off the high filing cabinet and walked it over to the corner where Mavis had set up his picnic. She had even laid down a spare tablecloth to use as a blanket. He’d never had a picnic before.

  After settling him in, she went back to her desk. Grizz sat in the chair that Grunt had just deserted and they discussed business: tax issues, payroll, expenses. When they were finished, Mavis looked around Grizz to see if Grunt was still occupied. She wasn’t sure if Grizz would want Grunt to hear the other thing she wanted to discuss.

  In almost a whisper, she said, “I want to talk about Gwinny.” She nodded toward Grunt to let Grizz know that she was being considerate of the fact that “young ears” were in the room.

  Grizz turned around and stared at the boy. He looked like he was immersed in his new game. “It’s okay. What’s up?”

  “Summer is what’s up. School is almost out. I’m not sure how I can keep a watch on her for you when I won’t see her for a couple of months.”

  Mavis knew that Grizz hadn’t thought about summer, but he never had to in the past. Mavis purposely made it a point to accidentally run into Gwinny at the convenience store over the last couple of summers. She concocted a story that she lived close by, which she didn’t. It was actually a few miles out of her way to go there, but she really had become fond of the little girl and was concerned about her well-being. Truth be told, there was more than one child at Gwinny’s school that could have benefited from her watchful eye. She wondered if Grizz’s friend was watching down from heaven with a grateful sigh of relief that his daughter had some human guardian angels.

  Grizz scratched his chin and tugged absentmindedly on his long beard. Before he could reply, she added, “That convenience store. Why don’t I get a part time job there? Maybe that would help.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that, Mavis,” he said. “You’ve already gone above and beyond.”

  “Look,” she answered. “I don’t mind it, really. I hadn’t realized how lonely I was until you asked me to keep an eye on her. I mean, yeah, I’ve come to love the regulars here at the bar, but I’ve never had the chance to have a child in my life. Truthfully, I love all of the children at that school. Well, most of them,” she added with a knowing smile.

  “That’s a long time to be on your feet every day. At least here you get to sit. At the cafeteria, too. You have a chair at the register, right?”

  “Yes, and I can have a chair behind the register at the convenience store, too. I do have experience, so I can’t imagine the owners having a problem with me sitting behind the counter off and on. Really, I’d like to try it. But remember, we don’t even know if Mindy’s is hiring part-time.”

  “They’ll hire you,” Grizz added. “Convenience stores are always turning over employees.” Before Mavis could comment, Grizz asked, “Why now, Mavis? She seemed okay last summer without you having to take on a summer job to keep an eye on her.”

  “That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” she said quietly.

  “What? What is it?” Grizz sat up.

  “I know she’s only nine, but she’s a mature child, Grizz. I didn’t even notice until I heard that brat Curtis Armstrong say something.”

  “Say something about what?”

  Mavis looked at him and gestured toward her own chest. She nodded at him as if she expected him to understand what she was trying to say.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Boobies, Grizz. She looks like she’s starting to develop. Not a lot, but noticeable enough for that little shit, Curtis, to say something. I’ve heard him commenting to his friends. And she’s started wearing a sweatshirt. It’s ninety degrees outside and she’s wearing a sweatshirt. She’s trying to cover them up.”

  “Are you kidding me? She’s only nine. Isn’t that early?”

  “You’re asking me? I didn’t get mine until I was—um, actually, I still don’t have ‘em—but yeah. She might be young, but children develop at different ages. She’s what? A year younger than him?” she asked nodding over at Grunt, who still seemed involved in his food and the game. “And she’s definitely taller. I just think maybe it’s time for some training bras. I can’t see that ditzy mother of hers taking her to get any, either. I’ve seen that woman just a few times and I’m pretty certain she doesn’t even own a bra.”

  Grizz looked uncomfortable at the idea. “So what are you going to do? Wait until she comes in to buy her mom’s smokes and say, ‘Oh, by the way, Gwinny, I found these training bras and thought you might like them?’” He made a face. “And what the hell is a training bra?”

  “Stop being a smart ass. A training bra is just a little starter bra. I was thinking of going down to the thrift shop and picking up some used clothes that I know would fit her. I could toss some bras in with the clothes and then tell her my neighbor’s granddaughter left some of her things here while she was visiting, and my neighbor asked if I knew any little girls they might fit.”

  Grizz leaned back and sighed. This Gwinny thing was getting to him. He’d never once considered what he would do as she got older. He guessed he naively assumed that she would stay a sweet, little girl who needed someone to keep an eye on things. He never imagined he’d be dealing with bullies and bras. He dragged a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

  “Yeah,” he said finally, “get the job for the summer. Get the bras. I trust you to handle it and let me know if I’m needed.”

  He started to stand up to leave when she stopped him, a hand up.

  “And there’s another thing.”

  He sighed again and sat back down. “What? What else is there, Mavis?”

  She nodded at Grunt. “I think he might be a little young to be coming here. He already informed me that the girls had ‘tits,’ not ‘breasts.’ You think you could’ve at least started him out with something a little milder?”

  Grizz looked at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Maybe you could have told him they were boobies, or ninnies or something. You had to tell him they were tits?”

  “They are tits, and boobies is something a ten-year old would say.”

  “He is a ten-year old!”

  “Fine, okay,” He swallowed back a grin and stood up. “Grunt, time to go. Pack it up.”

  Grunt stood up and walked over to him and Mavis. He reached behind his back and whipped out his notebook. He took the pen from behind his ear and started writing.

  “What are you writing down now?” Grizz asked.

  “I’m taking notes to research something later.”

  “What do you need to research?”

  “I need to learn why Gwinny’s boobies need training.”

  Chapter Eleven

  2000

  Tommy hadn’t realized how quiet the house was until he heard the automatic icemaker on the refrigerator dump a load of ice into the bin. He inhaled deeply and could smell apple and cinnamon spice, but he didn’t know where it was coming from. It was one of those mystery scents Ginny had placed somewhere in their home.

  He knew she’d meant it when she said she wanted him out of the house.

  He also knew he wouldn’t be leaving.

  He stared at the heavy box on his desk and sighed. Memories continued to swirl, pressing down on him like a weight. It all suddenly felt like too much.

  The doorbell rang. He left the box on his desk and wandered to the front door. It wouldn’t be Ginny, not this soon. He opened the door to find a woman there, clutching some kind of notebook to her chest. Oh brother, not another reporter. He stiffened as the last few months with Leslie flashed through his mind. Even though she didn’t spend much time interviewing him—she mainly spoke with Ginny—Tommy decided early on that he didn’t care for reporters or journalists. The experience with Leslie had only cemented that. H
e would be nice to this woman, but firm. No interview.

  “I’m looking for Tommy or Ginny Dillon. I have something—”

  “Look, you seem like a nice lady. But we’re not doing interviews. I don’t want to be mean or rude to you, but please leave us alone.” He started to close the door but she appeared startled, holding up a hand.

  “I’m not a reporter! Please—I have something to give you.”

  He turned back and sized her up. She seemed familiar, but he didn’t know why. He was certain he’d never met her. She was a nice-looking woman—average height and just a little on the heavy side, with brown hair with blonde highlights, intelligent brown eyes, and a warm smile. He couldn’t guess her age. Before he could continue with his mental assessment, she spoke.

  “I’m Louise.” She cleared her throat. “Louise Bailey.”

  Tommy didn’t say anything. He shook his head.

  “I’m Rhonda Bailey’s daughter.”

  The name was familiar, but Tommy still couldn’t make the connection.

  She looked at him and smiled kindly. “You knew her as Chicky.”

  Chicky. Tommy’s mouth went slack. That was a name he hadn’t heard or thought about in years.

  “You’re Chicky’s daughter?” He found himself smiling now, picturing the no-nonsense voluptuous blonde with the cheerful eyes. Truthfully, it had been so long he wasn’t sure when he’d last laid eyes on the woman. “Come in. Tell me how she is. We haven’t heard anything about her in years. Last we did hear, she owned her own bar somewhere up in South Carolina.”

  He showed Louise into the living room and motioned toward the sofa. “Here, sit down. Can I get you a drink?”

  She smiled again, and he suddenly saw her mother in the crooked grin and warm eyes. “No, thank you. I’m not thirsty.”

  Tommy took a seat on the chair directly across from her. “I haven’t thought about Chicky in a long time. How is she?”

  “That’s why I’m here. Fulfilling her last wish, I guess you could say.”