CHAPTER FIVE
At the very most, five minutes passed by the time I woke up from my meaningless slumber. Word for word, I would tell the jury exactly what happened in chronological order. Telling the judge the unquestionable truth would be the key to being safe from imprisonment. How can someone refute truth? If all of the evidence was there, then how could I have been proven guilty?
To the right of my cell was the indoor gate that led to the police station. It was a colossal steel door without a knob, but rather, a huge horizontal bar that slid out of two sturdy plaques on both sides of the door. This could only be done after the plaques were unlocked with their corresponding keys.
A little past sunrise, I heard someone’s key jingling on the opposite side of the behemoth door. Clacking sounds followed by the screeching of steel entered my ears just before the door creaked open. All I saw was the silhouette of a person. When the lights were turned on, the identity of the person was still a mystery. A long, satin cloak covered the entire person with the exception of two eye slits and a breathing hole.
Once more, keys jangled before my cell was unlocked by the enigmatic person. I would’ve ran off and left town without hesitating if it wasn’t for the fact that I was eager to find out what this person wanted as well as who the person was. The figure made a gesture with its index finger that told me to exit my cell. I was led outside of the police station by the figure. We made our way down Main Street in the early morning silence. Across the Temperate River, we walked to Water Street, to the local bus stop by the Pine Grove Hospital.
“Are you going to take that cloak off?” No answer.
“Are you going to say anything?” I politely asked without getting a response.
A police car in the distant traffic was heading down the road toward us. Grasping my arm, the person yanked me behind a tree. From the corner of my eye, I was able to see the line of trees behind of the hospital parking lot. Behind the purposely configured trees was the sidewalk, then the road. The traffic light of the street on which the police car was driving turned yellow. Sighting the yellow light, a tuner car yielded and began to roll to the intersection while a muscle car boldly accelerated past the speed limit to beat out the light before it turned red. With no response of justice from the police car, I knew that the driver of the vehicle was Hollard. Harder and harder, I tried to run to the police car to whoop him, but the person gripped my arm forcefully and the delay let me come to my senses. Once the light turned green, Hollard drove out of sight toward the police station and we headed toward the bus stop again.
From the west, the bus approached us and the person let go of me to fumble through a pocket in the side of the cloak. I knew then that it was around 11:00 AM because the bus came through town at that time of the morning. “To Port Salmon” the marquee read. Newspapers flaunted as the bus halted at the sight of us.
Guided to take a seat by the cloaked person, I sat in the back where there wasn’t a window. I was completely aware that I was skipping time and was about to leave town. Sitting next to me, the person didn’t take off the concealing hood after paying the bus driver. Except for the bus’s humming and bumping and the chatter of a couple up front, the bus was quiet.
On the cushioned, foamy seats I couldn’t help but take a nap. At 1:00 PM, I was woken up by the person and was taken off the bus in downtown Port Salmon.
Buses coming from all different directions filled the spacious terminal. 1200 dollars and a note were given to me by the cloaked person. As I stared at the familiar and enticing money, I was shocked that I was holding the money that Hollard stole from me. Pleased but confused, I turned to say goodbye and give thanks to Betty Clements, but all I saw was the bustling city of Port Salmon. It was my new home. The note would probably confirm my guess that the person was Clements. I had to take care of the priority first, my new home.
From the terminal, I headed north through light crowds of workers and tourists until I broke free of the skyscrapers and hotels of downtown and entered Oldtown, a neighborhood that hugged the northern portion of downtown and was also referred to as old downtown. It had the city’s oldest building, its oldest road, and was the site of the old river tree. The river tree was where ten creeks branched off of the Sockeye River and ended abruptly after a couple hundred feet. This was what came to be known as the natural port salmon, or first port salmon. Salmon would flock into the creeks to spawn before trekking to Hampton Bay, the large saltwater entrance to the ocean close by. When the mangroves became emptied by an artificial extension to the bay, the creeks dried up too. The problem was, people found great used for the natural “slips”. To compensate, people made a twin settlement a few miles to the south. Unlike the northern village, which relied on floodwaters to fill the slips, the southern village took advantage of the Sockeye River’s depth and created an artificial port. Small boats could then have two-way traffic in the river, and the settlement flourished. When the newly founded Port Salmon expanded beyond its original confinement, the older town willfully let itself become annexed by the newer one. Since then, one of the creeks became part of an outdoor museum that portrayed the city’s history. Other than that creek, all of them were built on top of and became average neighborhoods.
Beyond that, I went through a part of the city that I had never been in previously, called Lenbell. It was a plain neighborhood that was almost entirely used for residential space. A mile or two past that and I entered the western portion of the Northgrid neighborhood. The Northgrid neighborhood was important in the fact that a lot of the city’s industrial corporations resided in the “downtown” portion of the neighborhood. Surrounding that was a perfect north-south-east-west grid consisting of streets. Since the rest of the city’s streets were irregular, that neighborhood was special in having that, hence the name Northgrid. Past this was the North Side neighborhood, which had a lot of shopping centers and was the last neighborhood before reaching the middle-sized northern suburbs. Rows and columns of apartments filled the neighborhood.
After an hour and a half of walking, I got to my new apartment which was part of a complex. Two red brick, six story apartments that faced the street made up the complex. My apartment was 5-B, but I didn’t have possession of the keys yet. I looked inside through the main door’s window. Each apartment rested comfortably inside the building, with a door leading to the staircase in the hallway and the elevator. A main door led from outside into the small indoor corridor, which was what I was looking through. Placing my hand on the door’s knob, I felt that it was locked. Four trees stood between the two apartments’ front balconies and the sidewalk. I stepped back to appreciate the bold appearance of the large buildings. Other apartments in the area were taller, but on the block, those two were the tallest.
Planning to wait until someone entered or exited the apartment, I decided to take a walk until it was time for people to come home after work. Modern style apartments and penthouses filled each block in the neighborhood. About a mile or two from the apartment was the nearest shopping center. In this shopping center were clothing stores, a convenient store, an appliance store, and a large retail store. An island center in the middle of the parking lot had a dollar store, a video game store and a closed down establishment. The edge of the shopping center was a buffet next to a fast-food joint. Since I wasn’t going to work at Habendeck’s anymore, I decided to apply for a job at the retail store. There was a furniture section within the store, so my experiences should’ve helped me when I applied for the job. Rush hour began, so I hastily made my way back to the apartment. My apartment faced toward the road to the east and my balcony had a nice view of the skyline five miles to the south. During my jog, the Sun started to make its way underneath the western horizon in its mid-latitude slant toward the southwest.
It was nearing dusk when the first car parked on the street in front of the apartment. Out of the black sedan came a short guy in black blazers and dark blue dress pants that snugged his legs. He was swishing in his pocket for his keys as he came
closer to me.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Hey,” he said with an exhausted tone in his voice, “are you the guy that’s going to live on the fifth floor?” he asked pointing to the apartment that was shrouded in darkness.
“Yeah, do you live here?”
“Right above you.”
“Do you know where the landlord is?” I questioned as we reached the main door. Blackness swallowed us as the Sun hid behind the planet. The lampposts were not activated yet, and thus, it was an accomplishment just to see in front of our faces.
“He should be here in ten minutes. He owns two apartments on the east side and a flat roof in Hillgrove. Excuse me.”
He found the correct key and unlocked the door. Inside, the apartment had white walls and a tiled floor colored grey. Small chandeliers lit up each staircase and each story. The guy took the initiative to run up the stairs, so I followed. At the fifth floor, he turned around to face me.
“Are you from a different province?”
“No,” I sighed, “I’ve lived here my whole life. I was born by Plainview, moved to the south side, moved back near Plainview, and now I’m here.”
“Really?” he asked with a revival in his voice, “Where’d you go to school at?”
“Lumpert. Why, did you go there too?”
“No, I went to Riverside South. Did you go to college here?”
“Uh, not to PSECU, I went to the north side college. How old are you?”
“I’m 41,” he faintly said, hinting toward the fact that he was probably embarrassed.
“Oh,” I said. There was no way we had seen each other at a basketball or baseball game. I continued, “I’m 33.”
Down the stairs, the echo of the main door closing caressed upon the walls in the building.
“Alright,” I said, “see you later…”
“Clark.”
“Travis. See you later.”
Sure enough, it was the landlord who entered the apartment. He was speaking to the maintenance man near the boiler room. Trying to be a polite and exceptional man, I didn’t even make the impression that I was waiting for their conversation to terminate. Unlike my life at Pine Grove, I wanted to make as many friends as possible. Luck was what got me that far, but I planned to know who to trust and who not to trust.
The maintenance man picked up the toolbox near his feet and walked past me.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
“Good,” he said before going out of the main door, leaving me and the landlord together in complete silence.
“I thought you weren’t coming for a while.”
“Well, I’m here. I’ll pay for this month’s rent. I just need the keys to my apartment.”
“Oh sure,” he assured me, “hold on for a second.”
“Nice weather.”
“Oh yeah,” he agreed with synthetic enthusiasm.
“That reminds me,” he said with actual emphasis, “I’m going to the beach tomorrow. Do you want to come?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Here,” he gave me the long awaited keys, “I got to go. Meet me down here at ten.”
“Alright, bye.”
I suspected that there was problem, for all of my furniture was back in Pine Grove. My logic was that Clements had all of it covered and that the note would offer some insight. I got the note and I started reading as I walked slowly up the staircase. It read:
Travis,
By now, I’ve transported you to Port Salmon and you’re somewhere on the north side. I know because I went to your Pine Grove apartment the night you were in in jail and gathered you’re pictures. You should get them in the mail along with a box with enough money for some furniture. The code is 902. There was no way an innocent person like you would’ve pulled off a stunt like that. The problem was that I had no idea that Benny was such a cruel man. I didn’t find out until just now that he did it. George Camden told me everything. I’m sorry about the day you were impounded. I thought that Benny hit you on the head because you attacked him. By now, Benny is doing time and everyone has forgotten about you with George, Benny, the Sergeant, and I as the exceptions. So it’s as if nothing changed in Pine Grove and you can start a new life.
Love,
Betty Clements
After reading, I got into my new apartment division. It was obviously empty but I had obtained the keys and I wasn’t going to be homeless. Without waiting, I went straight to the balcony to check the astonishing view. I spent most of that night staring at the patterned lights over the streets and at the lights of the city buildings that twinkled with the disturbance of the very city. Beyond the skyscrapers, I could see the 30-story hotel near Lumpert in the distance. Only the extremely bright celestial spheres were visible in the night sky. It was a moderately warm night and was perfect as far as I was concerned. In front of the balcony were a few suburbs, a small patch of forest, and then the ocean. A comfortable lawn chair was laid on the balcony. Oddly enough, it was present when I came to the balcony. Someone must have left it. Eventually, I went back inside through the glass door. From inside, I still saw the ocean and everything that was between me and the ocean. I didn’t want to show it, but I had an immature exuberance for the beach on the next day and I barely got any sleep that night.
Making Life Worth While Page 7
