“Where am I, Grg?” she asked while he fed her.

  Grg sat in a chair at her bedside. He moved the forked beef ravioli to her mouth.

  “Below.”

  “I figured that,” she said, chewing. “But how did I get here?”

  “I cannot say. It is not my part.”

  Victoria gave him a sour expression. She wasn’t used to being denied the easiest of information.

  “You’re just a slave?” she asked. The condensation was clear in her voice.

  “No. I am a doctor.”

  “A doctor?” she almost laughed.

  Grg nodded and continued to feed her mouth slow and easy, making sure she chewed thoroughly to avoid choking.

  “How can you be a doctor?” she asked.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “You’re a...thing.”

  “Funny,” Grg said. “When I look at you, I think the same. But I try to give you the benefit of the doubt. I trust that somewhere in your skull you have a civilized brain filled with kindness like the rest of the humans I live with here. It’s hard to do with you but I try.”

  Victoria gasped.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m the most civilized person you’ll ever meet. Do you know who I am?”

  “I know who you are.”

  “I have been the number one music artist for the last ten years,” Victoria said as he shoved the food in her mouth. “I am worth two trillion dollars. Billions of people around the world love my art.”

  “But do they love you?”

  She flinched.

  “Of course they love me,” she said. “What kind of question is that? I told you what I’m worth. Doesn’t that sound like love? Haven’t you heart a word I said.”

  “Have you?”

  “What?”

  “Do they love you? Or do they love what you do for them?”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “No,” Grg said, placing the fork in the empty bowl. “It is not.”

  Grg, a bit tired, stood and brought the bowl to an empty part of the shelf. He returned to the bed with an open bottle of water and a straw.

  “Drink,” he said. “You seem dehydrated.”

  Victoria forced down the tainted water.

  “This food is making me sick,” she said. “Don’t you have real food?”

  “You talk in riddles.”

  “God, you should complain.”

  “If you want, I can bring in the food I eat.”

  “No, I don’t want to eat garbage and shit like some bottom-feeder.”

  Grg laughed through his mask again.

  “I eat seafood. Lots of fish and crustacean.”

  “Isn’t that polluted? Poisoned?”

  “Not to us.”

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I prefer fresh food.”

  Grg shrugged. When she finished drinking, he gathered the dishes on a plastic tray.

  “Grg, I know you are not the only one here. I hear voices through the wall,” she said. “When do I talk to someone in charge?”

  “When Campbell returns,” he said. “He’s expected sometime next week.”

  “Is Campbell the man who pushed me over the balcony?” she asked.

  “I do not know what you mean.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know what I mean?”

  Grg left the room and Victoria frustrated.

  Chapter 12

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Richard slammed his fists on the steering wheel of the sweeper and shifted it into park. The alarm of the BMW screamed, pitching in and out, and stung his ears. Thomas ran out of his parked cart and wobbled over to him, waving his arms, motioning Richard to pull out.

  Gathering his scrambled thoughts, Richard eased away from the BMW and brought the huge machine between the car and the cart. He shut off the engine and slumped out of the sweeper.

  Thomas stood by the damaged car. A two-foot scratch ran down a few feet of the car door. From what Thomas could see, it wasn’t dented. Even though Richard’s head was in another space, his reflexes were tops. The accident could have been worse.

  Richard stood next to his friend and mumbled curses to himself. Thomas patted his back.

  “I warned you,” he said. “You’re head is not on the job. It’s a simple job. One that you’re good at.”

  “Shut. Up. Thomas.”

  Seeing how upset Richard was, he crossed his arms and rolled back and forth on his feet.

  “You know, I was kidding about you being worried over that dead singer,” he said. “I hope you didn’t take it seriously.”

  Richard flinched at Thomas.

  “You think I care about the Channel woman?” he asked. “She is the farthest from my mind.”

  Which was hard to do since Victoria Channel’s death was all over the news. The media repeatedly broadcast her fans crying and committing suicide by jumping out of high windows. It was insane. But Richard was not one of them. He couldn’t wait for them to perform the funereal so the news could move onto the next big story, whatever it would be. Thankfully, no one cared if they recovered Channel’s body in the water below. It was probably eaten by sharks or sunk to the bottom. Maybe they would have another funereal when the gasses in her body bring it up to the surface. Richard hoped it never did.

  “Then it has to be the canceled meeting with RTL,” Thomas said. “You have definitely been acting weirder since you told me they blew you off.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s probably it.”

  “Listen, we can go back there today,” Thomas said. “We’ll hang out in the lobby until that woman brings someone down to talk to us. Hell, it should be easy. I can fall asleep in any chair. I’ll even lie on their floor. You think they want a fat man snoring in their office?”

  Richard couldn’t help but smile despite his mood. He believed Thomas would do just that for him.

  “I’ll think about it,” Richard said.

  “Where the hell is the owner of the car?” Thomas said, glancing around the empty street waking into dawn. “You figure he would be parked close by to hear the alarm.”

  “Fuck him,” Richard muttered. “He shouldn’t have been out here.”

  “True.” Thomas sighed. “I’ll call this into Riley so he can report it to the Traffic Department.”

  “Gonna have to work overtime,” Richard said.

  “Fine with me,” Thomas said, patting his back and walking back to his cart.

  Richard backed away from the car, hoping to give his ears a break from the annoying alarm. Nope. It still pierced his head.

  “Shut up,” Richard screamed.

  He checked to make sure no one was around. Thomas was in the cart making the report to Riley at the office and the streets were empty with the exception of a truck or two driving past to make a delivery. Richard ran up to the car and kicked the damage so hard that he dented the door.

  Richard and Thomas entered the Flavour Diner two hours late. Although the Traffic Department Officer was swift on arrival, they had to answer a bunch of questions for the report. Most of the questions favored Richard.

  “Are you taking narcotics? Legal or illegal?” the officer asked.

  “No,” Richard gasped, insulted.

  Thomas giggled a few feet away.

  “This guy?” he asked the officer. “Seriously? He’s a straight as they come.”

  The officer moved onto Richard’s psychology. Did he suffer from any conditions that he did not report to his supervisor? Or did he believe he was developing a mental condition and needs to be reviewed by a doctor?

  “No,” Richard sighed, hoping the questions would end soon. “I don’t believe I am.”

  “Then how do explain your actions today?” the officer asked.

  “I screwed up,” Richard said. “It could happen to anyone.”

  “No, it couldn’t,” the officer said. “But I’ll put that as your answer anyway.”

  To everyone’s relief, the questions ended. But not the tension. An older manicured man in a suit ran down the street towards them. He screamed about his car, his poor car. The alarm ran itself out when the Officer arrived. The driver wasn’t needed now. The tow truck would bring the car to the lot.

  “You guys can go finish your job,” the officer told them while approaching the driver crying at the damaged door. “I don’t need you anymore.”

  With the Officer’s back turned, Thomas and Richard flipped him the middle finger and returned to their vehicles.

  “Hey, boys,” Ronnie said at their table, hands in her uniform pocket. “Was wondering what happened to you.”

  “Had a little adventure,” Thomas said, catching his breath from walking so much. “You should have seen it. Richard was drag racing with the sweeper.”

  “Shut up,” Richard said, blushing. “I was not.”

  Ronnie smiled at Richard.

  “No?” she asked. “Then what were you doing with that big machine?”

  “Uh, cleaning the street?” he offered.

  Their eyes lingered together a moment. Richard wasn’t sure but he sensed something wrong with Ronnie. A sadness?

  “I’ll put your orders in,” she said, breaking her connection. “And bring your coffee.”

  She walked away and Thomas dipped his head to watch her ass move. Richard kicked him under the table. The large man yelped, causing everyone in the diner to notice them. Even Ronnie at the counter.

  “Would you stop doing that?” Richard said.

  “Why did you kick me?”

  “Really? You don’t know why?”

  “Hey! I tip her for it.”

  “She’s not a stripper.”

  “God, I wish. I hear they were popular in the old New York. Can you imagine if they had strip places here?”

  “No,” Richard said, spacing out the window.

  “You’re getting defensive about that woman,” Thomas said. “You’re attracted to her.”

  Richard shrugged. Maybe he was but there was nothing he could do about it. Amelia was still fresh in his mind, still sitting on the coffee table, still in front of this face when he slept on the couch. Add the news about his son being alive and shipped down to the wastelands below and no way was he ready for a romantic relationship. Not even a light friendship with a pretty face.

  “Whatever,” Richard said.

  Thomas shrugged and started on about the latest gossip in their department. Ronnie brought the coffees and placed them on the table. Richard noticed her hands shaking, making the cups rattle on the saucers. For a second, he thought she would spill them. She didn’t.

  When she brought the dishes covered with their eggs, hash, and toast, she wasn’t so lucky. It was like some invisible force tipped Richard’s dish from her hand. She jumped back, scared, causing some of the food to fall on his lap.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  Thomas, his meal undisturbed on his dish, laughed.

  “That was beautiful,” he said. “Perfect chaos.”

  Ronnie’s face broke into sorrow, her eyes teared. She told Richard again how sorry she was and rushed deeper into the diner. A busboy arrived and helped clean up the mess.

  Richard scooped as much food as he could onto the table and stood out of the booth. He brushed off the remnants that stuck to his clothes.

  “Why did she run off?” Thomas asked. “I want to see that again.”

  “Would you shut up,” Richard said. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”

  “Was she? What’s the big deal? They can make you another dish.”

  They could. But he sensed something else going.

  “I’ll be right back,” Richard said, heading to the restrooms.

  The manager caught Richard and apologized to him about the accident. Richard told him that it was no big deal and not to punish Ronnie for it. The manager said he wouldn’t and promised to rush out another meal.

  At the woman’s restroom door that was build close to the men’s room, Richard knocked and called Ronnie’s name.

  “Are you okay in there?” he asked.

  “Go away, Richard. Please. I’m very sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It was only food. I didn’t get hurt or anything. Thomas enjoyed it.”

  “Thomas is an ass sometimes,” she said through the door. “He’s always looking at mine.”

  Richard smiled and shook his head.

  “You’re right. On both counts,” he said. “I’m going to open the door. Is that okay?”

  After a moment, she said it was okay.

  Like the men’s room, the space was tight and only fit one toilet and a small sink with a mirror on top of it. Richard, not able to step inside with her, leaned against the open door, giving her space to be safe and comfortable with him. She gripped a wad of stiff paper towel. Her wet, swollen eyes glanced at him.

  “You’re having a bad day?” he asked.

  Ronnie nodded.

  “Me, too,” Richard said. “I damaged a car at work.”

  “Really? That sounds horrible. Will they fire you?”

  “Nah. Not with my record. Plus, in cases like this, the law punishes the owner of the car. They’re not supposed to be there.”

  Ronnie nodded and said, “Yeah.”

  “I couldn’t help to notice that you seemed...off. Did something happen?”

  “Yes. Something sort of happened.”

  “I know that we’re not friends or anything...”

  “We’re not?” she asked. “I consider you a friend. You’re the nicest customer I have.”

  “Oh, well. Yeah. You’re the nicest waitress I ever had. I mean...well.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, finally smiling.

  “Right. So, since we’re sort of friends, you can tell me what is bothering you. That is if you don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

  Ronnie blew her nose and nodded.

  “You know, you might understand since you went through that horrible event.”

  “Amelia’s death?”

  “No, the loss of your baby.”

  A sour feeling filled Richard’s stomach. The room tilted or was it his legs that were weakening.

  “Did...What do you mean?” he asked through a tight throat.

  “I received an email recently,” she whispered. “About... God, I can’t even say it.”

  “An email that told you your child was still alive?” Richard cautiously asked.

  Ronnie looked into his eyes and nodded her bewildered head.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  Chapter 13

  Richard Smith walked around the neighborhood and waited for Ronnie to finish her shift. She expected to leave by noon unless the lunch crowd got too wild or the next girl was late for her shift.

  “But you’ll wait for me, right?” she asked back at the women’s restroom.

  “Of course,” Richard said, squeezing her forearm in assurance.

  He realized it was the first time he touched her. There was nothing romantic about it. Only a small connection between two people who were experiencing the same earth-shattering news. Ronnie, with relief in her brown eyes, smiled and thanked him.

  With Richard’s thoughts spinning like a kaleidoscope, the walk flew by and he managed not to get lost or stray too far from the diner. He returned at noon and waited outside the glass doors. The lunch crowd filled almost all the seats and the counter and staff rushed to fill requests and orders. Ronnie was nowhere in sight. Perhaps she would leave on time.

  “Hey.”

  Richard jumped in surprise. Ronnie stood behind him and flashed a mischievous smile.

  “Where did you come from?” he asked. “Got some secret power you’re hiding.”

  “No, silly. I left through the back door in the kitchen. I hate leaving through the crowd. One time a customer tried to follow me home. Not good.”

  “That’s horrible,” he said. “It turned out okay?”

  “Yeah. I scared him off.”

  Ronnie opened her bag and showed him the bottom of a taser. Richard shivered and relived the charge that once invaded his body and mind the other day.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to get hit with that.”

  “Damn, straight.”

  “So, um, where do you want to go talk?” he asked.

  “Can we go to my place? My legs are killing me.”

  “Me in your place?”

  “Sure.”

  “But I’m a customer.”

  “Yeah. But you’re also a friend. I would never ask Thomas or anyone else from the diner back to my place.”

  “I promise not to do anything,” he said, holding up his palm.

  “I know. C’mon.”

  Ronnie led him downtown. They walked a few blocks on Sixth Ave that was busy with street stores, traffic, and pedestrians rushing to squeeze lunch in during their work break. When they turned on 29th Street, the world seemed to disappear with the residential building and trees that shook as if the day was windy.

  “I was wondering,” Richard said as they walked at a slow pace. “Will your husband mind that you’re bringing me home?”

  “I’m not married,” she said. “I thought you knew that.”

  “I thought so, too. But you had a child so I assumed.”

  “Oh, no. We separated after the...you know.”

  “Oh, yeah. I understand.”

  “You do?”

  “Well, not exactly. I never thought about divorce with Amelia after the birth. I wonder if she did. If she wanted to escape the world and her pain then I must have been a part of what was hurting her.”

  “Would you have given her a divorce if she asked for it? Assuming that your existence reminded her of the lost child.”

  “If it meant she would still be alive? Yes.”

 

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