Forget About Me

Forget About Me

  By

  Marion Francis (Author)

  * * * * *

  Published By:

  Forget About Me

  Copyright © 2011 Marion Francis

  License Statement

  Chapter 1 – I’ve got to getaway

  It started raining harder as Heather ran up the stairs leading to her dumpy one bedroom motel room. She quickly pulled at the thin curtain sheet to cover the small window. It hanged half crooked like wet newspaper against the glass as she tried to cover up every inch. She peeked outside one last time to make sure she wasn’t being followed, and then sat on the edge of the hard bed.

  She stared at a damp brown crumpled paper bag that was propped up in a corner of a tattered green sofa. The cold steel of the handgun left an outline impression on the front of her stomach as she pulled it out and tossed it next to the bag.

  It’s been two days and eight hundred miles ago since she fled her hometown of Southfork Alabama. It’s a small town where people are born and never leave. But she wanted more and didn’t care what it cost.

  She got up from the bed then rushed to the bathroom and threw up after remembering what had happened. The bruises on her face reassured her that it was the right thing to do. She touched each swollen eye then wiped away the slow dropping tears. She could see her boyfriend’s flying fist coming at her again as she closed her eyes trying to clear every memory of him out of her mind.

  “Now you won’t hurt me any more you son of a bitch.” She murmured to herself as she stared at her face in the mirror.

  He had done this to her before, but she didn’t want to leave him. She felt that she brought it all on herself. Everything was her fault. Not making enough money at the Dairy Queen, refusing to have sex with him when he would come home shit face drunk or when she forgot to buy beer on the way home from work.

  “I fixed your sorry ass. You won’t be doing this shit to me or anyone else again.” She cursed at the foggy memory of his face behind hers in the mirror.

  She slowly walked over to the bed, pulled back the top sheet and blanket then curled up into a fetal position. “Not ever again…” she whispered, “Not every again to me or anyone else, I’ve seen to that…”

  She listened to the soft patter of the rain then peacefully dozed off to sleep.

  Chapter 2 ~ “But nobody knows I’m here…”

  The sound of the crackly thunder and the phone ringing in the background startled her as she sat straight up in the bed looking around frantically. The room is pitch black with darkness. The phone rang two more times then stopped. A few seconds later the red message light began to flash. Someone had left a message.

  “No one knows me in this town. Nobody could possibly know I’m here.” She reasoned with herself. Her eyes shifted to the handgun on the green sofa then to the brown crumpled bag as thunder crackled again with the strobe light effect of the lightening illuminating the darkness for a brief moment.

  She pulled out a fresh t-shirt from her duffle bag that she used as a pillow and put it on it. Slowly she walked over to the window to peek out again. The corner street light flickered on and off as a large wet dog ran across to the other side then into the darkness. Nothing else is moving. Nothing else out there is alive.

  She walked over to the nightstand and stared at the red flashing message light on the phone.

  “But nobody knows I’m here.” She tries to reassure herself again. “Definitely nobody from Southfork. Nobody there knows where this town is much less ventured out this far.”

  She slowly picked up the receiver. The humming tone of the phone waiting for her to press a button reminded her of the numerous times she threatened to call the cops on her boyfriend but never went through with it. Her finger hovered and trembled over the “Play Messages” button.

  ‘Just press it. It’s just probably the front desk calling for more money that’s all.’ Is the though that’s running through her mind.

  The tip of her finger glowed red in the darkness as she pressed the message button. A man’s voice began to speak.

  “Hello, this is the front desk, if you plan on staying another night, you’ll need to come down and pay. Thank you.” Beeeeep.

  ‘Just as I thought.’ She smiled to herself feeling safe again reaching for the brown paper bag pulling out a fifty dollar bill.

  Chapter 3 ~ “What the hell happened to you?”

  Sweet Home Alabama whaled in the background as Daryl limped in through the front door of the Black Dog. It’s the local bar he frequents and often gets kicked out of because of his well known temper when he gets drunk. The bar is lined with a few locals, long haul truck drivers, cute country girls, and his best friend Jake. He limps up to the bar and signals the bartender for a beer.

  “Holly shit Daryl! Who the hell kicked your ass?”

  “Shut the hell up Jake, it an’t none of your business what happened to me.”

  “I’m just sayin’ look at you. Shit, you look like you been worked over with a baseball bat. Your left arm is in a cast. Your heads half wrapped up like you’re gonna play a part in a mummy movie or somthin’.”

  “I said shut the hell up about my business Jake.”

  “Okay, okay. Shit, no need to get all uppity with me. I ain’t seen Heather around in while. They say she ain’t been at work over at the Dairy Queen the past couple of days. What the hell’s going on?”

  “Got damn it Jake, mind your own business. We just had a bit of a fallin’ out that’s all.”

  "Did she do this to you? Damn, she must have been pissed.”

  “That’s it! You want to step outside so I can give you what for?”

  “Calm the hell down. Here, have one of my whiskies.”

  “Shit, that bitch is gonna get what for when I find her. She’s probably stayin’ over at her sisters in Farmington.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Yep, and I think I’ll pay her a little visit tomorrow.”

  “Good luck with that. She ain’t gonna tell you shit much less where she is or if she is even stayin’ there.”

  “I’ll see about that. Will you drive me over there?”

  “Heck yeah, you’re my best friend. It’s nothin’ but a word brother. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

  “Hey Jenny, bring us another round.”

  Chapter 4 ~ Time to move on

  After listening to the message Heather looked at the digital clocks red numbers that displayed 6:12am. She hadn’t realized she had slept so long. But it was a much needed rest. She went to the bathroom carrying a white plastic bag filled with an assortment of makeup, deodorant, a tooth brush, a tube of Crest toothpaste, a bar of Dove soap, a Clairol hair coloring kit, and two Gillette triple blade razors.

  Her eyes are less noticeably puffy; the bruises are nearly cleared up. She applied the Auburn hair coloring kit, cut her hair short just above her shoulders. She smiled at her reflection as looked at her transformation into another identity. The cool refreshing sprinkles of water from the streaming shower relaxed her nerves and melted away the last of the bruises. After applying the makeup, you could hardly tell anything had happened two days ago.

  She gathered up her things, put them in her duffle bag, and took one last look at the room before closing the door behind her. She squint her eyes as she came out into the daylight, then walked down the stairs towards the registration desk.

  “Are you staying another day with us Miss Melinda Mellencamp?” asked the front desk clerk.

  “No, I thought I would be but now that the weather has cleared up, I think it’s safe to drive on the highway.”

  “Very well, I hope you come again. Have a nice day.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  She w
alked down to the corner and across the street to a Starbucks. She ordered a Grande latte, picked up a half folded New Orleans local newspaper and sat in one of the soft large brown leather chairs near the window so she could feel the warm sun rays.

  Just as she was about to take another sip of her coffee she saw what she was looking for. There it was on page B3 bottom right-hand corner. She smiled then whispered.

  “They don’t have a clue.”

  Chapter 5 - “Is Heather here?”

  Daryl and Jake drove up the bumpy dirt driveway towards Jenny's house. They passed a half hanging No Trespassing sign as they drove through a partially opened wooden gate. Two large black pit bulls with heavy chains began barking fearlessly at them as they strained their necks against the taught chains.

  “Got damn them some mean ass dogs!” shouted Jake jerking the stirring wheel.

  “Shut up and keep drivin' She knows your truck.”

  As they pulled up to the porch they could see Jenny standing out front with a loaded double barrel shotgun draped across her arm with a finger on the trigger.

  “Shit Daryl, she got a freakin' shotgun.”

  “She always has that got damn shotgun. Turn off the engine and come on.”

  They slowly walked up to the porch and looked up at Jenny.

  “That's far enough. What the hell do you two want.” she said through a plum of cigarette smoke squinting her eyes at them.

  “Now Jenny hold on, we ain't looking for no trouble.” said Daryl leaning on his cane.

  “Bullshit Daryl!”

  “I'm just lookin' for Heather that's all.”

  “Oh Yeah, and why do you think I would tell you shit if I did know?”

  “'Cause... you're her sister, why else?”

  “What the hell that's got to do with anything?” said Jenny taking another long draw on her cigarette.

  “Well I figured since her and I had a fallin' out and all, she would come over here to cool off. You know we always patch things up.”

  “Looks to me like you done got patched up.” she busted out laughing. “Hell, it looks like she kicked the shit out of your ass!” She busted out laughing again. Jake snickered.

  “Damn it Jenny, never you mind 'bout what happened to me, is she here or not?”

  A stone cold look came over Jenny's face. Her thumb cocked back the large hammers on both barrels of the shotgun. The dogs started barking again. She stared down at both of them then exhaled another large plum of smoke before speaking.

  “Now look you son of a bitch. I've looked the other way when she would come runnin' over here after you beat the shit out of her and for the life of me I don't know why she went runnin' back to your sorry ass. But you two got ten seconds get your yellow coward asses off my property before I commence to blowin' you two to hell where you belong!!!!”

  “Now Jenny...”

  “One, two, three...”

  “Shit Daryl, she ain't jackin' around, she's gonna shot us if we don't get the hell out of here!”

  “Four, five, six...” said Jenny as she continued to count down.

  “Jenny!” shouted Daryl

  “Seven, eight, nine, I ain't bullshitin' Daryl, get the hell off my property...”

  “Okay, okay. We're leavin'. Just tell her I come by and I'm sorry.”

  “Ten. Start steppin' damn it!!!”

  They both ran to the truck. At first the truck wouldn't start after two tries. Jenny started walking towards them pointing the shotgun at the windshield. It finally started. Jake put it into reverse, then quickly into drive and sped off nearly hitting the dogs as they approached the gate. They could hear the sound of a shotgun blast going off behind them.

  “Shit, she was gonna kill us Daryl.”

  “Well, we ain't dead. Let's go to the Black Dog. I need a drink.”

  Chapter 6 – Shine Money

  Daryl and Jake made their way back to town and headed straight for the Black Dog bar for drinks. Three men sitting in a far left dark corner of the bar watched them as they walked in.

  “Is that them boss?” whispered one of the big burly men sitting to the right side of their table.

  “Yep, that's them alright. Billy, you go stand over by the door and make sure they don't try and leave.”

  “You got it Mister Bowman.”

  “Nate, go fetch them two over here to me.”

  “Yes Sir Mister Bowman.”

  William P. Bowman owns the Black Dog bar and a few other businesses in town, but his real money maker is his moonshine business.

  “Mister Bowman wants to see you two now, move it.” Said Nate firmly grabbing each of them by their collars.

  “Shit!” grimaced Daryl.

  “What the hell he wants to see us for?” asked Jake with a puzzled and terrified look across is face staring at Daryl.

  “You're gonna find out in just a minute. Now keep steppin'.”

  Bowman pushed out two chairs with the heel of his boot in front of his table as they approached.

  “Have a seat boys and let’s have us a little talk about my money.”

  “What money?” asked Jake looking at Daryl then back to Bowman.

  “What money? Three days ago I gave Daryl here a case of shine for delivery to Boyd over in New Orleans. I haven't seen him until I was informed he was here yesterday. Judgin' by the way he looks, I think he got robbed or somethin'. Care to explain what the hell happened Daryl? I'm all ears.”

  “Now Mister Bowman, it ain't what it look like.”

  “Do tell Daryl.”

  “Well, you see it's like this, when I got back from New Orleans I came straight here looking for you to give you the money. I had a few drinks while I was waitin'. After waitin' about a couple of hours and you hadn't come, I went home.”

  “Go on, I'm still listenin'”

  “Well, when I got home somebody jumped me and took the money. As you can see they roughed me up pretty bad. Hell, I had to go to the hospital emergency to get patched up.”

  “I see. Well that's a real interestin' story. Now let me tell you what I think happened and do correct me if you think I'm wrong but I doubt if I am. You see, I think that girlfriend of yours finally had enough of you beatin' on her and she decided to kick your ass when you came home drunk. Am I correct so far?”

  “Yes sir, yes Sir Mister Bowman.” Said Daryl lowering his head, looking down at the floor.

  “And then, after she beat the ever livin' shit out of your sorry ass, she grabbed her things and the money bag. The money bag that you were supposes to bring to me, right?”

  “Yes Sir Mister Bowman.”

  “And now she's nowhere to be found. Most likely left your ass and got out of town, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, here's what you two are gonna do. You got one week to find her and my money and I mean all of my money. You hear me!” he said pounding his fist on the table.

  “Yes Sir Mister Bowman.”

  “I didn't hear you say anything Jake.” He said pointing a finger in his face.

  “Yes Sir Mister Bowman. One week.”

  “Good, now that we understand each other, don't make me have to come looking for you two boys. You do know what happens when people avoid me don't you.”

  “Gators?”

  “That's right, gators.”

  Chapter 7:- Verify your identity

  Heather folded the newspaper then tossed it into a tall trash can on her way out. It's a nice sunny day in New Orleans. Tourists are unloading from tour buses, street vendors are setting up their carts. The sounds of street musicians tuning their instruments began filling the air. The river walk across the street is lined with a mix of tourist, locals casting their fishing lines into the incoming tide sitting on plastic buckets, as kids with balloons in their hands walk along side their parents.

  Heather unfolds a local city bus route map then studies it for a few minutes. She looks up at the street sign then loops her arms through her backpack and picks up her du
ffel bag. She walks two blocks to a Cricket cell phone store and purchases a disposable pay-as-you-go cell phone. She scratched off the silver security coating over the activation code and enters it into the phone. A few seconds later she hears a voice recording.

  “Your phone is now activated with three-hundred minutes.”

  She reached inside the left pocket of her jeans and pulls out a folded slip of paper with a hand written phone number on it. She entered the number then began walking towards the bus stop.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  “Hello, please verify your identity with your given code word.” said a soft female voice.

  “Zydeco?”

  “Your identity has been verified. Take bus number fourteen to the corner of Canal and Royal Street. Go to the Monteleone Hotel and then to the small cafe inside and order two cups of French Chicory. Someone will meet you there.”

  “I understand” she whispered back while cautiously looking around. “Thank you so much, goodbye.”

  She could see bus number fourteen pulling up to the stop as she approached it. She slid the exact change into the meter and sat at the front of the bus behind the driver.

  “Welcome to New Orleans ya’ll. French Quarter, Bourbon Street coming up.” said the bus driver over the intercom as they pulled away.

  Chapter 8 – Welcome

  The bus pulled up to the corner of Canal and Royal Street. She stepped off the bus and stood looking around. Jazz and blues music poured out from the string of bars, cafes, and night clubs that lined the street. She looked at her map then started walking towards the end of the block. She has never been to New Orleans. She only read about it and seen TV commercials about the up coming Mardi Gras and all it’s parades.

  She looked both ways before crossing the street to the Monteleone Hotel. She went in and stood in the main foyer. It’s a beautiful hotel that first opened in 1886 and is part of the historic preservation district. The Le café is straight ahead and to the right.

  “May I be of assistance Madame?” asked a passing porter stopping in front of her.

  “The café?” she said softly

  “Yes, it’s this away, please follow me. Would you like for me to check you bags at the front desk?”

  “No thank you, I don’t know if I’m stayin’ or not yet.”

  “But of course, please this way to the café.”

  She looked all around at the rich lavish hotel as she followed the porter across the spotless marble floors. She has never stepped foot in such a fancy place filled with so many rich people and beautiful décor.