Now Wouldn't You Like to Know (2 page)

Morning arrived earlier than I was prepared for. The world around me was still engulfed in darkness. Tired still, I could have slept another four or five hours. But I had set the alarm for 6:00AM and that’s exactly when my sonic summons reverberated throughout my head. Whoever invented early rising could not have been a common working man or working woman. It just did not make sense to me to awaken before one’s body and mind was prepared to.  Synchronicity was what I was into.

With great discipline I peeled back the layers of covers on me and crawled out of my waterbed. My cousin and one of his lady friends, who had dropped by after we arrived home the night before, were still asleep so I kept my noise level to a minimum. Besides, it was Saturday and he did not have to get up for work. Unlike me, he had indulged in a couple of beers along with a few mixed drinks. No doubt, he would be out for a while. Passing his room I could hear him snoring lightly.

After a quick shower, I prepared myself breakfast. When I finally sat down, I ate a hefty serving of Wheat, Corn, and Rice Chex, with sliced bananas and raisins, all mixed together in a bowl of milk. Afterwards I popped a few vitamin pills and took my cellphone in hand and headed out to my Navigator. I was ready for my long trek north. I’d call Mike later in the day.

It was rather cool, even for a late September morning in Florida, so I threw on my jacket and climbed up into the Navigator. I turned the ignition key and waited a minute for the engine to warm up. In the meantime I turned on the local news to check the weather and traffic conditions. The forecast called for light rain in the morning hours then sunshine and 78
^O
weather. There were no reports of any accidents or slowdowns. Reaching over, I activated my GPS system, not to guide my way, but to queue me in on the speed limits I would encounter along the way.

After fastening my seatbelt I pulled out of the driveway and onto the asphalt road. Hopefully, I would be embarking on a peaceful, quiet, and uneventful drive up north. I wasn’t anticipating any car problems or traffic tie ups or accidents, at least none that involved me. And maybe, just maybe, major road construction along the way up would not impede my drive much. I loathed driving through endless miles of concrete barricades, uneven lanes, odd and abrupt curves, and construction site speed limit warning signs. Like die hearted truckers, I preferred fast speeds and long stretches of open road.

Two blocks later I pulled into a convenience store to top off my gas tank and to purchase a cup of cappuccino and some snacks. Returning to my vehicle I encountered a light rain. Starting up the engine, I activated my windshield wipers, then pulled off. I expected to be on I-4 inside of fifteen minutes.

For a Saturday morning traffic was light, which is exactly what I expected to encounter at 7:30AM. What I did not expect to see, some three blocks later, was the bombshell that was standing on the corner the day before. This time she was walking and totting luggage in both hands. Though she did not appear to be struggling, she looked weighed down as I drew closer to her. As if on cue, the light rain suddenly became a mild but cold downpour. My curiosity was piqued now.

Pulling alongside of her, I lowered my passenger side window and my head to get her attention. I offered a friendly wave.

“Good morning, can I give you a lift somewhere?” I asked. Though early morning, she was wearing dark shades, just like the day before.

Pausing in the rain she turned in my direction and gave me a thoughtful gaze. She did not say anything at first, but was obviously contemplating my offer. Though hesitant, it appeared, I understood why. I was a complete stranger to her. And a woman could never be too cautious. After a moment, she finally asked, “Are you going anywhere near the Greyhound Bus station?”

“I wasn’t but I will for you,” I answered putting the Navigator in park.

Stepping out of the vehicle I went around and assisted her with her luggage and helped her into the passenger side of my vehicle. I joined her seconds later after I grabbed a clean hand towel from my carryon bag and handed it to her to dry off.

“I really appreciate your kindness,” she said gazing over at me. “I was hoping to catch a cab but I could not find their phone number. I figured that if I walked a few blocks I would happen upon one eventually. Then it began to rain.”

“If I may ask, what brings you out so early in the morning and without a ride or fare?” I asked as I turned onto Orange Blossom Trail. “It’s obvious that your Greyhound bus is leaving pretty early.”

“Actually, my bus is not scheduled to leave until two this afternoon but I decided I’d better head out early to avoid a confrontation with a certain individual,” she said, obviously alluding to a not so great situation with someone she knew.

“Guy problems, huh?” I asked.

“My so-called fiancé,” she answered, taking off her shades and drying her face with the towel I had given her. For the first time I got a chance to look at her eyes, which were a rich almond brown color. Her sculptured face and soft features were a mixture of what was probably an African and European lineage. Her hair was a majestic crown of loose spiral curls down to her shoulders. The woman was a living and breathing goddess and in the flesh.

“You know, some men are not the same after you’ve gotten to know them for a while,” she said.

“That’s true. So, what is he like now?” I said turning down the radio.

“Let’s see. He’s possessive, verbally and physically abusive, unreasonable, arrogant, and a substance abuser. Overall, he’s a real sonavabitch, need I go on?”

“No need to, I get the picture,” I said. “I cannot help to think that this is a man you would go out and marry.”

“Well, he didn’t start out being an asshole.”

“Most of them don’t,” I added. “So, does he know that you’re leaving?”

“God, I hope not,” she answered, her voice soft, her eyes reflective.

“You think he’ll try to come after you?” I asked, looking over at her.

“He might, but I hope not,” she added with a wistful sigh.

“How long have you two known one another?”

“Far too long,” she said putting her sunglasses back on. “Actually, I’ve known him for about a year. We started dating two months after we met. But it just hasn’t worked out.”

“By the way, my name is Sheldon, Sheldon Pierce,” I said.

“My name is Diana Lynn Cannon,” she answered with a trace of a smile.

It was obvious Diana had a lot on her mind and appeared a little uneasy, not about me I don’t believe, but about her jacked up situation. There was a lot I wanted to ask her but by the same token, I did not want to pry too deep and open up any old wounds. I was curious to know what would bring a woman out this early in the morning, in threatening rain, while bogged down with luggage and without a sure ride. Her situation appeared desperate. And she looked emotionally fragile. I’d have to tread carefully. Real carefully.

“So, are you leaving your fiancé for good or is this a temporary move on your part?”

“This is for real and this is for good,” she assured me, her voice firm and her eyes resolute. “I’m getting as far away as I can from this madman.”

“Does this madman have a name?” I asked curiously.

“Jackass,” she said, then broke out in a light chuckle. “No, actually his name is Jack. He’s nothing in my eyes now. Nothing and nobody.”

“Jack,” I murmured, noticing the rain was letting up to the point I could reset the speed of my wiper blades.

“So, what’s your story?” she asked. “You seem to be going somewhere with all that luggage I see in the back.”

“You have a sharp eye,” I said acknowledging her astute observation skills. “I’m heading up to Philadelphia for a job interview. Somehow, I woke up in a fog a month ago and discovered that I was going to be unemployed.”

“Were you fired or let go?”

“Summarily laid off is what it seemed like.”

“Downsizing, huh?’

“That’s right. At least that’s what they told me.”

“So, what is it that you do for a living?”

“Computer repair and analysis, mainly on commercial systems.”

“Wow, the brainy type,” she smiled as she handed me the damp towel to take.

“Not really,” I replied, tossing the towel to the rear of the SUV.

“You seem personable, not like any of the brainy types I usually run into,” she said.

“Well, I appreciate that,” I said as I watched her fold her arms across her breasts, as if to hug herself. She appeared slightly chilled.

“I’m sorry,” I quipped, realizing my oversight. “You’re wet and are probably still cold. I’ll turn the vent off and warm you up with a little heat just to knock off the chill.”

“Oh, I’d appreciate that,” she said with a shudder.

“How’s this?” I asked while I played around with the temperature dial until I arrived at a setting I felt was comfortable enough for her.

“That’s just fine, Sheldon.”

“I usually keep it cool inside when I drive long distance so that I can stay awoke as well as alert.”

“I understand,” she added plainly.

There was a pause.

“Is everything all right?” I asked, noticing that she had become quiet and thoughtful.

“Look, I don’t want you to think that I make this a habit.”

“What’s that?” I asked, glancing over at her.

“I usually don’t get into cars with strangers, even the cute ones who drive Lincolns,” she said.

“And I don’t usually pick up strangers, even the pretty ones walking down the street,” I replied with a wide grin.

She chuckled then said, “Okay, you got me on that one.”

I shook my head after we paused for a red light.

“So, what’s on your mind?’ she asked.

“I just don’t understand how any man could treat an apparently nice woman as yourself so badly,” I answered. “I just don’t get it.”

“Some men feel threaten by a woman’s beauty, and her friends and associates, especially any male associates,” she said.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she insisted. “Some men are so jealous they cannot stand for their woman to be out of their sight for more than a few minutes.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“Worse than that, at times.”

“Surely this Jack guy has some redeeming values,” I added just to see what she’d say.

“He’s good looking and good at making up with me, but let me tell you, he can go straight to hell with that
‘Honey, I really didn’t mean what I did last night but I still love you’
act,” she said in a dismissive tone.

“Well, I am glad that you finally got around to seeing the light.”

“That’s two of us,” she tossed in. “I just hope that he doesn’t figure out where I’ve gone to.”

“Just where are you going, if I may ask?”

“To Brooklyn, New York,” she answered gazing out of the window momentarily. “I have a cousin who lives there. Jack doesn’t know about her, though. At least, I hope he doesn’t.”

“Are you originally from Brooklyn?” I asked.

“No, I was born in Maine,” she answered. “But I have plenty of family members in the Brooklyn area.”

“That’s a good thing,” I said as I turned my Navigator into the Greyhound Bus terminal parking lot.

“Yeah, it is,” she replied solemnly as she surveyed the area.

I saw a vacant parking space and headed towards it.

“Oh, my God!” she blurted out loudly, startling me.

“What?” I asked, in response to her alarming outburst.

“See that guy over there by the entrance meandering about?” she asked nervously. “That’s Jack. He’s obviously looking for me.”

“So that’s Jack,” I uttered as I guided my SUV away from the area. He was a young man in his late twenties who stood about five feet nine inches and weighed about 180 pounds. He was a dark complexioned Caucasian man who wore a crude cut. He looked more a Marine than a civilian. He was wearing black shoes, black slacks and a black top and a stylish looking brown leather jacket. He was stocky in built. He probably played football in high school or even in college. “He obviously woke up and discovered that you were gone,” I reasoned.

“I’m not sure how he found out that I had left. I mean, he was pretty ripped from a night of heavy drinking,” she began. “I actually thought that he would sleep way into the late morning hours. It would have been even better if I was at least a hundred miles down the road before he noticed that I was gone. Apparently something woke him up.”

“Probably a cellphone call.”

“You’re probably right, Sheldon.”

“So, what do you want to do?” I asked.

Diana’s eyes narrowed. She looked lost, just plain terrified.

“Look, if you want me to, I’ll escort you to the ticket counter.”

“No, I don’t want there to be a scene, and believe me there will be if he finds out that I am inside of this vehicle with you.”

“Look, I can handle myself. But I need to know what you want to do,” I said.

“I don’t know, Sheldon,” she murmured softly. “I really don’t know. If he sees me, he’ll force me to go back with him.”

After a moment I said, “Look, I have an idea if you care to hear it.”

“Sure, I’m opened for suggestions,” she said stooping low in her seat and looking about the area nervously.

“I have to make a stop in Jacksonville on the way up north,” I began. “Matter of fact, it’s one of two stops I have to make before I continue on up to Philadelphia. What I can do is drop you off at the Greyhound Bus Terminal in Jacksonville. You can purchase your ticket there and leave from there. Sounds like a plan?”

“Anything sounds like a plan to me right now,” she replied rubbing her eyes, eyes probably irritated from the rain she was drenched in before I picked her up. “But I’ll have to call the Jacksonville terminal on the way up to see what time the bus is scheduled to leave for New York.”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” I sighed aloud. We then took off.

Diana seemed surprised, yet appreciative, that I had gotten her out of that situation without Jack seeing her. Once we took the ramp onto I-4 she seemed to relax.

“Thanks Sheldon,” she said with a disarming smile.

I nodded in return, saying, “You’re welcomed.”