The Safe House

by Kiki Swinson

  I looked up at the sky and saw how the sun was beginning to set. And, boy, was I happy, because I had to pee like a little kid that had just consumed a gallon of Kool-Aid. It was that bad.

  Fortunately for me, though, Mrs. Mabel decided to walk back out to her car. She got in the driver’s seat, placed her purse on the passenger-side seat, and then started up the ignition. “I want you to keep still and stay where you are,” she instructed me.

  “What’s wrong? Is everything all right?” I questioned her from the back seat.

  “Those same detectives are camped out on the other side of the street so they can see if anybody comes close to your apartment.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked her, even though I believed her already. I just needed her to confirm what I had just heard.

  “No, I am not kidding. I have to drive by them, so stay calm.”

  “Will they be able to see me in the back seat?”

  “No, but we can’t take any chances.”

  “So, where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you on a ten-minute ride so we can get you a wig and another set of clothing. That way, when we come back, you won’t have to stay in the car. You’ll be able to walk in my house with me,” she explained.

  I was partly relieved that Mrs. Mabel cared for my well-being more than I thought, but the other part of me was scared that her plan for me might not work. What would be the chances if the cops saw me walking into her apartment? Boy, that would be devastating.

  “Do you know how long they’ve been out here?”

  “It’s been a little over an hour. I saw another car drive by our building too. But they didn’t stay. They did stop alongside the other detectives’ car for a few minutes and then they sped off.”

  “Did you see which direction the other cop car went?”

  “They headed in the opposite direction of where you and I are going,” Mrs. Mabel said, and then she fell silent. I, on the other hand, became a nervous wreck. Every thought in my head began to spin around in circles. I couldn’t think straight at all. I almost told Mrs. Mabel to drop me off at the nearest police station. But when I thought about the possibility that my mother could still be alive, I decided against it. I figured I would be of more help if I stayed out on the street, instead of in jail. I was my mother’s only savior, so I knew I had to remain strong and figure this thing out.

  While I was still lying on the backseat floor, I heard Mrs. Mabel pulling into a shopping center parking lot. She told me that she would be right back. I lay on the floor of her car for about ten minutes, if that. As soon as she got back into the car, I heard her scrambling items around inside of a plastic bag. Couple of seconds later, she handed me a wig and a jacket. “Put both of them on. Now, I know it ain’t fashionable like the wigs that you young girls wear, but it’ll do what it is supposed to do,” she instructed me. A few minutes later, she pulled her car up to the side of the road and told me to get in the front seat. And I did just that. After I closed the passenger-side door, she sped off.

  I turned around and faced her. “How does it look?” I wondered aloud.

  “It looks perfect,” she replied, and then she smiled.

  “Now, when we get back to the apartment building, I want you to walk directly beside me and pretend like we’re having a conversation. Don’t look at anyone but me. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I assured her.

  As planned, Mrs. Mabel drove back to the apartment building. Immediately after she parked the car underneath our carport, she and I got out of the car and headed toward her apartment. Thankfully, we didn’t see those detectives sitting in their parked car across from our building. And even though they weren’t around when we came back, something in my gut told me that they were somewhere near. “Come on, we only got twenty yards left before we get to my apartment,” she coached me.

  It seemed like with each step I took, the closer we were out of the woods. I couldn’t help but look at my front door as I approached the building. From the outside, everything looked intact. The kind of look like no one lived there. And what’s crazy about it is, the apartment belonged to me. I lived there. Everything I owned was inside and I couldn’t get to it. Now, how messed up is that?

  “Here we are,” Mrs. Mabel said as we walked up to her front door. I stood beside her while she unlocked the door. “Come on in,” she continued after she walked through the entryway. I followed her inside. And when I stepped to the side, she closed the door behind me and locked it. I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn’t believe that I had made it inside of my neighbor’s apartment without being detected. It felt like a whole bunch of weight was lifted from my shoulders.

  “Can I use the bathroom?” I asked her immediately after she locked the door.

  “Sure, honey, it’s right there to your left,” she pointed out, and then she walked into another room in her apartment.

  It didn’t take me long to use the bathroom. After I washed my hands, I headed into the front area of Mrs. Mabel’s apartment. She was in the kitchen pouring a cup of hot water. She didn’t hesitate to ask me, “Want a cup of hot tea?”

  “No, I’m fine. Please let me thank you again, Mrs. Mabel. You are a lifesaver. I really appreciate everything you did for me today. You went over and beyond for me. And I can’t thank you enough,” I expressed, getting a little teary-eyed.

  “Why are you about to cry? Is everything all right?” she asked me while she added a tea bag to her coffee mug.

  “I’m not about to cry,” I lied while I wiped my glassy eyes with the back of my hand.

  “It sure looks like you’re about to cry, to me.” She handed me a paper napkin from the paper towel holder near the kitchen sink.

  “I’m just tired. Tired of everything I’ve got going on with my family. I wish I could go on a vacation and just forget about all the drama I have in my life,” I told her after I took the paper napkin from her.

  “Whatever you got going on, baby, you can always count on God to make everything right.”

  “I talk to God every now and again.”

  “What you need to do is talk to him every day. Three times a day if you have to.”

  “I know. I’ll get better at it,” I assured her.

  “Come on into the living room so we can sit down and watch some TV together. What kind of TV shows you like? And don’t be talking about the reality shows. I don’t watch that mess. Those people be airing all their business on TV. I know their parents are ashamed of them. I know I would be if my child was up there. I will cut their butts off and change my number.”

  Mrs. Mabel was an old soul—a woman with years of experience and wisdom. So to hear her talk about how the new generation of children is today gave me a warm feeling, because she spoke from the heart. Looking at her made me think about my grandmother. Lord knows what I would do if I could have her with me right now. Life with her would be really good.

  “I know this may shock you, but I like this show called Shark Tank. A person can learn so much by watching that show,” I said.

  “I watched it a couple of times. The episodes I saw were good. But I don’t know if it’s on right now.”

  “I’ll watch anything you wanna watch. Just as long as it is not the news. I’ve been watching the news channel for two days straight and I am so tired of seeing or hearing one bad thing after the next.”

  “If you don’t watch the news, then how are you going to keep up with what’s going on around the world? It’s important to stay informed, especially since I live alone,” she said.

  “That’s understandable,” I said. But on the flip side, I wasn’t interested in watching anything being broadcast from a news station. If Mrs. Mabel saw my face plastered across her television screen, along with the journalists reporting that I escaped federal custody and was a person of interest involved with Terrell’s disappearance, I knew she would change her mind about me. And how could I come back from that? And who could blame her? I would probably act the same
way. So, to prevent any of this from happening, I just prayed that my name didn’t get mentioned while we were watching TV.

  She and I agreed to watch the movie The Green Mile. When the movie started, she didn’t like it at all. But I talked her into giving the movie another ten minutes. She did and eventually began to like it. Unfortunately for her, she fell asleep on the couch before the movie ended. I started to wake her up, but she looked so peaceful that I left her alone.

  While she was asleep, I tried watching another movie, but I couldn’t give it my full attention. Every time I heard noise, loud or small, I found myself peeping through Mrs. Mabel’s window blinds. Nothing significant was going on outside. A few neighbors from the other building walked by to either go to their cars or take their trash to the nearby Dumpster.

  During my peep shows, I found myself watching my apartment too. I couldn’t see my entire apartment from the window I was looking through, but I was able to see my kitchen and living-room window. All the lights were off, of course, but somehow I was still able to make out a few things I had propped up near my windows.

  Sitting here and being able to watch my apartment made me homesick. I was also sick because I wasn’t aware of my mother’s state. I could only hope that she was still alive, despite my seeing her hand cut off and placed in a fucking treat box. I swear, if I found out who did that to her, I was going to fuck them up. And that’s my word.

  8

  BLINDSIDED

  Mrs. Mabel woke me up the next morning with the smell of bacon and eggs. I had fallen asleep on the couch so I could be close to the front door. I figured if I stayed on the sofa, I’d be able to hear all the movement coming from the other side of the front door.

  “Hungry?” she asked me after she noticed that my eyes were open.

  “Kind of,” I told her as I sat up on the couch.

  “Well, go on in the bathroom and freshen up. I’ve got clean wash towels on the vanity next to the bathroom sink. There’s a bottle of mouthwash underneath the sink,” she replied while she continued shuffling plates and forks around near the stove.

  “Okay, thank you,” I said, and then I headed in the bathroom. I peed, washed my face, and gargled a mouthful of mouthwash. As soon as I was done, I headed back into the kitchen with Mrs. Mabel. She had two plates of food on the table when I walked into the kitchen. “This food looks so good,” I commented as I approached the table.

  “Well, come and have a seat. We can’t let the food get cold,” she instructed me as she was taking a seat at the table herself. I took a seat next to hers. “Come on, bow your head so we can pray.”

  Upon Mrs. Mabel’s request, I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and then I let her take it away. Her prayer consisted of thanking God that she woke up this morning. She even thanked Him for keeping her with a sound mind. I said a quiet prayer. And my prayer was that God would allow me to look for my mother without getting hurt. I even asked God to cover me from the dirty cops, the dirty DEA agents, and the Malek family. Those guys didn’t play fair, so I would need to stay on my A game and try to stay alive as long as possible. The slightest slip and fall would definitely cause my demise. And I couldn’t have that.

  My prayer was simple and quick. Mrs. Mabel’s prayer was a few minutes longer than that. She ended it by thanking God for having me as company and she told Him to guide my steps. Her words were touching. I got filled up with emotions. And immediately after she said the word Amen, I thanked her.

  “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me. Thank our Lord and Savior. I’m just His vessel,” she explained as she picked up her fork.

  I picked up my fork too and started eating. After I put the first forkful of eggs in my mouth, it melted on my tongue. “Hmmm, Mrs. Mabel, your eggs are so good.”

  “Thank you, darling, but you haven’t tasted my bacon yet.”

  “I’m about to do so right now,” I assured her while I broke the bacon in half and stuffed the first half of it into my mouth. Just like the eggs, it also melted in my mouth. “I haven’t had eggs like this in a long time.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying them,” she said while she continued to eat. “Did you get a good night’s rest?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did.”

  “I heard you talking in your sleep a few times last night.”

  “I was told that I do that from time to time.”

  “You better stop it. Because one day, you might say something and the wrong person could be around to hear it.”

  “I know,” I agreed.

  But before she uttered another word, we heard a knock on the door. I went straight into panic mode. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. I placed my fork down on my plate of food and stopped chewing, thinking that it could be heard from the other side of the front door. “Are you expecting any company?” I whispered.

  “No,” she whispered back, and then she stood on her feet.

  “Please don’t let anyone know that I’m here,” I begged her, pressing my hands together like I was beginning to pray.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t,” she assured me, and walked away from the table.

  Instead of staying at the kitchen table, I hid myself in a small room in the kitchen that she used for storing her food. It was just big enough for me to fit in there.

  “Who is it?” I heard her yell to the person outside her front door.

  “I’m Agent Sims, and I’m with Detective Belle. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions,” I heard Sims say.

  I also heard when Mrs. Mabel opened her front door. That move scared the crap out of me. I felt that in any moment, Agent Sims and that local cop could walk into the house without giving Mrs. Mabel consent and find me hiding in this closet. Boy, would my life be over.

  “How you doing, ma’am?” I heard Sims say.

  “I’m doing well. Now, what can I help you with?” Mrs. Mabel got straight to the point.

  “Detective Belle and I are looking for the young lady that lives in this apartment next door to you. So we were wondering if you’ve seen her.”

  “No, I haven’t. And what are you guys doing in her apartment?” I heard Mrs. Mabel ask. She seemed alarmed by it.

  “Ma’am, it’s official police business,” Agent Sims said.

  “Police business, my foot. You just can’t go into her apartment like that,” Mrs. Mabel protested. I heard the anger and frustration in her voice and she was upset.

  “Listen, ma’am, it’s really important that we find her, because she may be in serious danger,” I heard Detective Belle say.

  “Wait a minute, why are you guys taking fingerprints and stuff? Who’s gonna clean up all that black dust on her door and in her apartment?”

  “Ma’am, wiping away fingerprint dust is the least of our worries. We need to find Misty before someone else does,” Agent Sims chimed in. “Here, take my card, and if you hear anything, please call me,” he continued.

  “I sure will. And when I talk to her, I will definitely let her know how you’re messing up her apartment,” Mrs. Mabel warned them.

  “Thank you for your time,” Detective Belle said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Agent Sims spoke up.

  After I heard her close her front door, I walked out of the food pantry and took a seat back at the kitchen table. She walked back into the kitchen and placed the business card down on the kitchen. “Did you hear what they said?” she wondered aloud after she sat back down in her chair.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “They said that your life may be in danger.”

  “They’re lying, Mrs. Mabel. They’re just saying that as a tactic to get you, and whoever else, to help them find me. And look at me! I’m here with you. So, how could I be in danger? They are full of lies.” I was trying to convince her.

  “You know, they’re messing up your apartment with all the black fingerprint powder?”

  “I heard.”

  “You know that stuff is really hard getting off.”

 
“I’m sure I’ll find a way,” I said nonchalantly, even though I was on pins and needles. I began to rack my brain, trying to figure out why they’re dusting my apartment for fingerprints. And then it hit me that they can’t be looking for anything else but Terrell’s fingerprints. This realization shot my blood pressure through the roof of Mrs. Mabel’s apartment. The thought of them using forensics gave me a ton of mixed emotions. I knew that before they left my place, they were going to find every piece of DNA they could find. And before I knew it, I was going to be on the FBI’s Most Wanted poster. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  Mrs. Mabel dug back into her food, but to save my life, I couldn’t lift the fork from my plate. I had literally lost my appetite. “You’re not gonna eat the rest of your food?” she wanted to know.

  “Yes, I’m gonna eat it,” I told her, but in reality, I wasn’t. My mind was too fixated on them motherfuckers that were looking for me. Why won’t everybody just leave me alone? I’m speaking of, Sanjay’s family, the homicide detectives, the DEA agents, and the people who have been ordered to kill me. And in the mix of things, I now found myself trying to cope with the death of my grandmother, my cousin, and maybe my mother. How much longer am I gonna have to go through this? I was a strong woman, but I still have weaknesses. So, if I’m given enough strength to go forward, then I will do that and see where it takes me.

  “Will you excuse me?” I asked her.

  “Sure, honey,” she replied.

  I stood up from my chair. “Is it all right if I look out of your living-room window?” I asked.

  “Sure. You go right ahead,” she insisted, and then she stood up behind me. “When you look out the window, look through the blinds this way,” she instructed me as she pointed at the side she wanted me to touch.