Freebee Friday!

Song I'm currently obsessed with: Too Close by Alex Clare. Thank you MSN Internet Explorer commercial.

--Me

Killer

(Catch up, here) 

I pound on the door of 5D, breathless, but will all the urgency in the world. "Ruthy! Ruthy open the door!"

Dear God, please let her be alive.


Nothin' but silence answers the door. The other men must have found her and got to her before I could. I'm hit at that moment with what I've been caryin' around my whole life: I'm a killer. And I've finally killed the person I love the most.


I hang my head, unable to wrap my mind around the fact that Ruthy's gone. Then my heart skips a beat. Our safe phrase. 


I knock one more time and say into the door seam, "Peanut butter monkeys." I wait. There's nothin'. Then, I hear the shufflin' footsteps of someone movin' behind the door. I step back. 


The brass knob turns and ever so slowly, the door creaks open. A wrinkled face slides into view. But I know who it is, and she's just as beautiful as when she sent me packin'.


"Ruthy, it's me—"


"I know who you are. What do you want?"


Well, I knew she wasn't goin' to be happy to see me. "I need your help."


"Figured as much. Had your old buddy come knocking on my door 'bout an hour ago. Didn't answer it, of course. But, I figured you'd be here sooner or later." She shuts the door. I hear the scrape of the chain lock being drawn back before she opens the door again. "Hurry up, I don't want anyone seeing you at my apartment."


When I step into the room, it's like I've gone and stepped back through time. It looks exactly as I remember. My eyes scan table surfaces. Then I spot it. Ruthy in a white dress, smiling up at a young man. There are others, framed faces of children. 


"You got married," I say. More of a statement than a question.


She looks down at my hand. Instinctively, my thumb runs across the gold wedding band I still wear on my finger. "You, too."


We both sort of nod at each other. 


"What do you need, Abel?"


"I think you know by now that they've found me." She nods but doesn't say nothin'. "I need your help to get away. I can't let them find me. I have to protect my family." I try not to let my words sound pleading, but it's hard with my level of desperation. 


"Why me? Why can't you go somewhere else?"


"Because it has to be you, you're the only one—"


Her hand reaches up and clutches at my forearm. "Hush!" she whispers. 


My heart skips a beat as I strain to hear what's alarmed her. Then it's there. The sound of thunder as feet come pounding up the stairs. 


They've found me. 


I level my breathing, putting my mind on one track—protecting Ruthy and getting' out of here. "There's at least two of them," I whisper.


"We'll be lucky if they haven't sent more." The footsteps stop outside her door. 


"I'm sorry about this. All I ever wanted was to keep you safe."


Her nails dig into my arm. I follow her gaze to the door. She didn't lock it. The knob turns and is thrust open, a burly figure tumbles through, followed by a smaller one. 


I push Ruthy behind me, prepared to fight for her life. I look up with the most feral sneer I can manage. 


"Grampy?" a familiar voice says.


"Junebug?" I say.


"Found him," Barrett says.

--Me

Junebug

(Catch up, here)

"Uh, June?" Barrett clears his throat. "Don't you think you should…slow down a little?"

I glare at the speedometer. It reads 55. "No," I growl, but I ease up on the gas.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"Bull. Tell me. Now."

"Barrett—"

"And it'd better be the truth. I'll know if you're lying."

I sigh. "Growing up, I thought Grampy cradled the moon and hung the stars. I wanted to be just like him. As I got older, I figured out he didn't like me as much as I liked him."

"That's not true—"

"Oh, yeah? Take my nickname: Junebug, after the beetle. He gave it to me."

"Cute."

I bark out a cynical laugh. "Have you ever encountered one?"

"Nooo," he draws out the word.

"They're large, and invasive, and always in your face. Obnoxious. Just. Like. Me."

"I'm sure he didn't—"

"I overheard him talking to a coworker once, when Grampy gave him my nickname, the guy laughed. 'Like the beetle" he asked. 'Exactly like the beetle,' Grampy said. I didn't know what it meant then, but I found out. I've been trying to prove my whole life I'm worth something. That I'm worth investing in." I swallow back the lump that's grown in my throat. I don't know why I've told Barrett any of this.

"I'd invest in you. What you did back there, that lets me know I'd get a pretty good ROI," he says softly.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes I do."

"My own grandfather doesn't even believe in me."

"That's not true."

I stare straight ahead. "He kept his life from us because he thought he was protecting us. He didn't want us to be a part of it. But did he ever ask if maybe we wanted to be a part of the organization?"

"What? You want to be working with people like that guy who attacked you back there?"

"Used to, yeah. And they're not all like that. Only when people threaten to mess things up. To expose them."

"That's ridiculous. How do you even know that?"

"Grampy was a member, remember?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't make sense. You said he kept it secret, and I doubt he had a training manual lying around. which means..."

"Which means nothing," I say.

He twists his body in my direction, eyes wide." You're a memb—"

"You say the words, you can't take them back. Please don't make that decision for me." There's a silence so loud in the car, it's pressing into my eardrums. I stop the car in front of a tall brick building. I check the address on the scrap of paper. "We're here."

So Sorry

Normally I do these posts the day before, but yesterday got away from me and I failed. So, the A 2 Z post will be up a little later this morning. :)

--Me

Innocence

(Catch up, here)

The sidewalk's cracked so it takes me a little longer to get to the building's door. If I'm not careful, I'll trip and fall and break a hip.

"I can help you!" a small voice shouts.

I swivel my head around, to see who's speakin', but no one's there. I grunt and lift my foot over an uneven edge in the cement. A small hand grips at my elbow.

"My name's Sammy."

"Eh?" I look down at a toe-headed boy walking next to me.

"I can help you to the door. Do you live here? I've never seen you here before. I'm Sammy, but the way."

I shrug my shoulder and try to dislodge this little leech from my arm, but his suckers are in deep.

"What do you want?" I growl. We've managed to get to the building's door but there's a problem. It's locked. I jerk on the handle.

"I helped plant these flowers and I painted the door."

I spare a glance at the bright pink peonies and the door did look like a fresh coat of blue had been slapped on it. How am I gonna to get inside? I don't have a key. I look at her name printed in bold black on a label next to a button. She sure as heck wouldn't let me in if I buzzed her.

"I can get the door for you!" He pulls out a key on a chain from around his neck. In a few seconds, he's openin' the door for me.

I smile to myself and pat him on the head as I pass. Ah, innocence. "One more thing…"

"Sammy."

"…Sammy. Do you know what apartment Ruth O'Donnell is in?"

Sammy scratches his head and sticks his tongue out the corner of his mouth. "The old lady that never comes out of her apartment 'cept to yell at the landlord?"

Sounds like Ruthy. I nod.

"5D."

"Thanks, kid." I pull myself up the stairs by the handrail. I don't see an elevator. This was going to be a long trek. I stop at the second floor landing, panting for air.

"Do you know her? I haven't seen you around before. Are you a grandpa, you look like a grandpa," Sammy asks.

I give him a curious look as I start to climb the next set of stairs.

"You look old."

"It's because I am, kid. Don't you need to go home or somethin'?"

"Nah, you're more interesting than going home. You look like you've had fun in life. What kinds of things did you do at my age?"

This kid's still following me? "Nothing that you should be doing. Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn't be hangin' out with me."

He doesn't seem to hear me. "You know, we usually get many strangers here. But today, we've had two already!"

I'm only half-way listening to him. "Oh yeah?" I rest at the landing on floor four. Only one more flight to go. Getting old is the pits.

"Yeah! You know what else is crazy?"

"What's that, kid?"

"The other guy wanted to see Ms. O'Donnell, too!"

It takes a second for what he says to register. Then my heart starts pumpin' blood as cold as ice through my veins. "Another man was here?"

"Uh-huh. And he looked mean."

I race up the last flight of stairs, and for those thirty steps, I'm a young man, running with the devil on his heels.

 

Just Read...

The Unbearable Book Club for Unsinkable Girls
by Julie Schumacher

Good summer read full of great characters. BR to come.

--Me