Chapter Three is now available to read

Chapter Three

Finding Ms. Becky proved to be much harder than he had thought it would

be. The cell phone number she had listed belonged to the group home she was

staying in. The warden, because there was no way he was calling her Betty

White, had told him in a stern voice that her clients were not allowed to have the

phones for more than one trip out of the house, and they had to return them to

her or else. He didn’t ask what the “or else” constituted; no way did he want to

know. When he asked to leave a message, the warden said she was not her

secretary, so no; she would not take a message for Ms. Becky.

He drove there next. As he got close, he really wished he hadn’t. The

neighborhood was one that he would never be caught in after dark—maybe even

after the sun came up, either. The building had been a grade school at one time,

he guessed, and was now a halfway house for female ex-cons. He was given a

pager and told to wait in the main hall. If Morgan wanted to see him, she’d page

him and then someone would take him to her.

As he sat there waiting in the foyer, one tough-looking woman after another

passed him, eyeing him up and down appreciatively. Is my shirttail out or what?

he wondered. There was a full-length mirror in the hallway, so he surreptitiously

checked himself out.

He had always considered himself an okay-looking guy. He was tall, six-five

in his stocking feet. His hair was black, so black it had a blue sheen to it, and

straight as a poker, as his Dad used to say. He had a nice eight-pack that he

worked very hard to maintain with exercise and healthy eating. His eyes were

perhaps his best feature, he thought—light gray, almost a clear blue in the

sunlight. But right now, at this moment, he felt like a slab of meat hanging on a

rack somewhere.

As word got around that someone had a male visitor sitting in the entrance

hallway, more women found a reason to pass by and gawk at him. The women,

and he wasn’t always sure about that, came out in droves to stare at him. One

woman had even asked him to turn around so she could see his “nice ass.” He

felt really stupid, but did turn around for her, but it was mostly to have her stop

staring at his crouch. She hooted with laughter and made rude sucking noises to

her friends.

He took out his cell phone and called his mom again. If ever a guy needed

his mommy, it was now.

“Mom, it’s Nick, your son. Have you ever been down here where Ms. Becky

is staying?” He had kept his voice low—there wasn’t any sense in offending

anyone.

“No, why? I heard once it was a big place, but not much more. It’s sort of a
revolving door for most of them. They have to stay there until they have a
permanent place to live. Most of them end up back in the same situation as they
were when they got into trouble.”
“It’s in a questionable neighborhood. Actually, I would consider that to be an
understatement. It’s in a horrible part of t—”
Suddenly, he was interrupted by a loud voice. “Hey, ass boy!! Turn around;
let me see your stuff. I need a man, and you look like you can handle a woman
like me.” He looked around and saw a huge, voluptuous African–American
woman staring at him lasciviously.
“Uh, Mom—”
“Leave the building right now, Nick. Turn around and get out.” He decided
his mother’s advice was right on for a change. He got up and started to leave.
“Where you going? Come on back here. I want some lovin’ and you’re gonna
do it. I don’t wanna have to hurt you.” He glanced back once and saw that she
was lumbering toward him. He took another hasty step forward and felt
someone grab his arm. He was being jerked around before he could he could
blink.
“Whoa!”
“Nickolas, get out! Right now!”
He tried, he really did. The huge momma pressed herself against him and
tried to kiss him. As he was trying to extricate himself, he heard another voice,
one he was vaguely familiar with.
“Big Martha, you need to step away from that man. He’s here to see me.
Why, I have no idea, but I’m sure he’ll tell me. I don’t want to have to hurt you,
so step away.” Morgan Becky. He couldn’t see her around the woman who was
now groping his crouch.
“You? A little thing like you? Get real. I ain’t afraid of a little nothing like
you.” She banged his head against the wall as she spoke.
Nick was starting to get a headache again. Wham! Suddenly everything went
black. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Morgan. Of course not. You have to be able to get
there first, don’t you? Why you are so stubborn is beyond me.” Nick woke up to
the sound of his mother’s voice, then he heard her huff. He’d never heard his
mother huff at anyone but him and his brothers before and wondered at the
cause.
He opened his eyes, and looked around. He was obviously in a hospital
room, but why? Thinking hurt his head. He tried to move his hand up to touch
his forehead, but he ended up hitting himself in the head with the board attached
to his wrist with the IV in it.
“Mom? What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” He moved to sit up
straighter and got a stabbing pain in his right temple for his effort. He had to
take a couple of deep breaths and close his eyes before he moved again.
He heard another voice. “I hit you. It wasn’t on purpose. You sort of got used
as a human shield and your eye got in the way. The doc said you’d be okay in
the morning, only a little bruising.” He looked over and saw the ex-con, or
whatever she was. What’s her name again? Morgan. Her lip was swollen and her
jaw had a large bruise on it. He also noticed that she had a tear in her T-shirt. My
eye got in the way? Huh?
“Oh, Nicky. I told you to leave. Why the hell didn’t you listen to me? You
aren’t used to those kinds of women and she could have really hurt you.” His
mother didn’t sound very motherly at the moment, but pissed off.
“I’m in the hospital. I think someone did hurt me.” He turned to Morgan.
“Who did that to you? What did you call her? Big Martha?”
Instead of answering, Morgan pursed her lips, stood up, opened the curtain
that surrounded the bed, and walked away. ER. He was still in the emergency
room.
“She really didn’t mean to hurt you, you know. She told the police that she
was trying to rescue you from Big Martha, and when Martha pulled you in front
of her, she couldn’t stop her foot from connecting with your face. She won’t let
anyone look at her, but the woman who runs the place, Ms. White, said that she
took quite a beating from Martha’s crew before she rendered Martha
unconscious.”
She knocked Big Martha out? While she was outnumbered? He didn’t remember
that, or anything else, as a matter of fact, after Big Martha went after him.
“Did she say why she won’t let anyone look at her?” Things were starting to
come back now with alarming clarity. That big woman, presumably Big Martha,
had said she needed some loving. And he was going to give it to her. He
shuddered at that. He remembered Morgan’s voice and she had asked her to let
him go, that he’d come to see her. “She won’t say, stubborn girl. Why I’d like to tan both—”
Just then, the doctor walked in.
“Hello, Mr. Grant. How are you this fine morning? Quite a beating you took
there. Let’s have a look at those peepers, why don’t we? Ms. Parker, how are
you?” Dr. Emily Fraley took out her little flashlight and pointed it at his left eye.
The pain was immediate and sharp and he jerked back from it. She let him, and
then frowned down at him.
That couldn’t be good, he thought. “What? You frowned.” He rubbed his chest.
There was that annoyance again. He refused to call it a pain.
“I’m going to want to keep you overnight. I don’t like what I see in your
eyes. I think you might have a good-sized concussion.” She took his chart off the
end of his bed and made some notes.
How could I have any-sized concussion from a foot to the head? And how the hell did
she get her foot that far up? I’m six–five! And where the hell did the owner of that foot
go, anyway?
“Where did Ms. Becky go, Mom? She should have to stay too. She’s the one
who kicked me.” He believed in equal punishment for equal guilt.
“The young woman? Oh, that policeman, Officer Denty, is still talking to
her. She’s just down the hall, I think. Mr. Grant, is there someone who could
bring you some personal things? I’ll see where we can put you now.” Dr. Fraley
disappeared around the curtain, his mom close on her heels. He hoped Mom was
going to see to Morgan. The silly girl needed to be looked at too.