The ballroom was bustling. There were ladies in exotic and decadent gowns, swaying to and fro whilst being lead by handsome gentlemen. There were violins, and cellos, and various other string instruments playing rich, beautiful sounds that filled the air with visible spirit. H'orderves were served and wine was had, leading to laughs, and smiles, and pleasant conversation. I could feel a pull, guiding me, beckoning me down the hall. And so I followed, entering the room with the red, ornate sofa. Red velvet atop sturdy, solid gold that almost looked liquid against the light coming in from the window. I sat, and then the tiger came. The orange and black striped feline came to me and brushed its head up under my hand. I stroked its fur; a handmaiden came to put a crown upon my head. I was a queen, and I was ready. Ready for something. That is, until a voice woke me up.
“Hey. Get up.” I roused myself from my slumber, giving a groggy groan as I managed to sit upright.
“Mn. Where are we?”
“I told you I’d get you as far as the station. You’re going to have to get out, now.” Still in somewhat of a haze, I undid my seatbelt and glanced around, putting pieces together. I was in a truck. There were pink, fuzzy dice hanging in front of me, and everything smelled like microwavable gas station bean burritos. I sighed, instantly wanting to go back to the palace.
“Thanks again.” I opened the door, stepping outside as I gave a wave to the man in the denim jacket and the baseball cap. I stood outside of the station for a moment, weighing my options. I could take a bus home to mom, or I could head further West into California. Where Derek was from. I could feel my stomach lurch. Perhaps Mexico would be the better alternative. I looked into my purse to see how much money I had, and was relieved to find about three-hundred dollars. I knew that’d be enough to get me somewhere, and Greyhound tickets were fairly cheap as long as I wasn’t going too far. I decided to take some time to think about it. I went inside, got a soda and some potato chips from the vending machines, and sat on one of those cold, blue benches. I was still in my date dress, and was suddenly longing for the comfort of pants. I watched people come in, and people leave. I must have sat in silence for a good hour before I realized any time had passed. I thought about how mom must have felt with me gone all night, and I thought about those cold words I said to her. I wondered if perhaps she went back to Mister Alexander and hadn’t even noticed that I was really gone. About thirteen hours had passed; would she have noticed and sent someone looking? Highly doubtful, I thought. I was brought out of my deep, inward thinking when a man sat down next to me on my bench. He tilted his head to look at me, slowly, and I suddenly felt very nervous. I tried not to stare. He only had one eye.
“Been waiting around long?” He seemed to be trying to strike up conversation with me. Despite my anxiety, I indulged him cordially.
“Just a while. Trying to figure out where I’m headed.”
“You have a pretty face.” Awkward. The very essence of the word invaded my being and I could feel my skin crawl.
“...Thanks.”
“I just got out of prison. It’s really good to finally be out. It’s how I lost my eye. Got in a fight.” There he went, telling me his life story. Did I ask to hear it? Certainly not. The level of uncomfortableness I felt continued to grow. “What’s a girl with a pretty face doing here in the middle of Nevada all by herself, huh? What are you, like eighteen?” As much as I was flattered that he thought I was older, I was still incredibly uncomfortable. I thought about just getting up and walking away, but I considered the fact that he might have a concealed weapon. Since he was a convict and all. I looked over at him; he was tall, muscular, hispanic, and covered in tattoos. I could certainly believe his story.
“Just passing through. I was in Vegas for a little while and I’m just..., you know..., traveling around, and stuff...”
“Do you maybe want to go outside and pass the time? Maybe make out a little?” Man, what a scumbag.
“No..., thanks.”
“What’s the matter? Come on, just a little kiss or two, no funny business.”
“No, thank you.” I said it a lot firmer the second time.
“Alright, well. Some of my friends are outside and bored and I’m going to go hang out with them. Would you at least keep me company or something?” I shook my head, stood up, and walked out of the building. He didn’t try and stop me, but man, was I creeped out. I didn’t even want to get on a bus and risk ending up on the same one as him. I left the station, and walked.
Luckily, the station was in a small town, which functioned mostly as a stop for people passing through. There was a motel, a couple of gas stations, a few fast food joints, and a diner. I knew I was starving, but to add insult to injury, my stomach decided to rumble as loud as it possibly could. I walked down the road and to the diner, deciding that I was going to need some food in me before making any decisions.
“What can I get ya?” As I settled down into a booth, a waitress came over to take my order. She looked pretty friendly, and so did the menu. I took only a moment to glance it over; I didn’t need to wait even longer on food just to weigh my options. “Ice water, turkey club sandwich, french fries. And a slice of apple pie, please.” I handed her the menu and gave a sigh of relief. The water came quickly, and I gulped about half of the glass down in a second. For a moment, I rested my head down onto the table, sighing with a combination of both mental and physical exhaustion. The look on Derek’s face when he confronted me with the laptop flashed before my eyes, and I felt sick. Man, I really screwed that one up. Then I thought of the creepy ex-con, and was simply relieved for a change of scenery. They brought me food after about ten minutes, and I took my time eating. I pondered over things, savoring the delectable crunch of the bacon in my sandwich and the salt of my fries. I doused them with ketchup and felt no remorse. Diner ketchup always tasted better than store bought. Surely, it’s in the glass bottle.
When I was half-way through dessert, a man sat down at the other end of my booth. I tipped my head up and stared at him. He was tall, clad in a suit and sunglasses. Oh, no. He didn’t have to say anything. I knew he was one of them. Quiet seemed to sweep over the diner, the only audible sound made when I lowered my fork onto the pie plate. And then, the man sighed. “Shay Silph?” What was I supposed to do? Tell him I wasn’t Shay Silph? He wouldn’t have sat down at my table if he wasn’t one-hundred percent positive it was me.
“...Yeah?”
“I’m here to take you home. Your mother has requested your retrieval.” It was my turn to sigh, then. Mom had summoned the suits to come get me? Really? Of all people? I responded after a long, drawn-out pause.
“I’m ready to go home. May I use the restroom, first?” He nodded, slowly. I payed for my meal, got up, and made my way to the ladies room. But to my dismay, he followed me to the door. At least he didn’t come inside. I already had my daily dose of creepy. Once I was alone, I felt panic wash over me. There was a part of me that knew it would be foolish of me not to go home, but I didn’t want to go with him. I wanted to go on my own terms, when I was ready. The bathroom was small, and had a window on the far wall. In a frenzy, I whipped up a devious plan and tried to open it. At first, it wouldn’t bulge; but then, after a hard tug, I managed to slide it over, resulting in me losing my balance and falling on my rear. Man, that hurt. When I gathered myself and got off the floor, I saw the window has a screen on it. I looked in my purse, and realized I had nothing to cut it with. I got up and tried to pry it away with my fingers, but that got me nowhere.
“Are you almost finished in there?” I heard him yell.
“Just a minute!” I could feel sweat building along my knuckles. I looked at the floor, and an idea struck me. I took off one of my heels, and punched it up against the netting. It went through one of the small, grid-like squares, and I started to twist it to make a bigger hole. Then, as I tugged and pulled the shoe in different directions, the wiring began to snap in place and I could hear my freedom. I was so thankful for being so slender, in that moment. If I was ten pounds heavier, I would have never made it through. But I squeezed through the hole and fell with a tumble, regrettably, without my gorgeous shoe. I took off my other one and left it to the dust, making a run for it while trying to brush the dirt off of my dress. Fabulous and dirty? It was time to play the damsel-in-distress card.
Upon arriving at a nearby gas station, I hailed a young man who was filling up his car. I figured a man might be an easier target than a woman. “Sir!” He looked at me, alarmed and perplexed. “Sir, please. Some creepy guy chased me out of the diner and tried to attack me! I need to get out of here as quickly as possible!” Yeah, I lied. But hey, I was fleeing from someone. What choice did I have but to exaggerate a little?
“I’ll..., go inside and call the police! Stay here!”
“No!” I grabbed onto his arm. “Please, there’s no time!” He shook his head for a moment, then seeming as panicked as I was, and opened his passenger car door.
“Get in.” I did, swiftly. He got in the other side and we booked it, leaving the suit, wherever he was, in the dust. After a few minutes of silence, the man reached for his cell phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Please, don’t.”
“Why? A man attacked you? Was he a stranger or someone you knew?”
“He was just..., some guy, I don’t know.”
“Why are you out here alone, dressed like that? How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You are not seventeen.”
“Okay, okay. I’m fifteen. It’s a long story. Can you just give me a ride?”
“Are you a runaway? An orphan?”
“Geez, you ask a lot of questions. I just need to get away from the guy following me, alright?”
“Well where am I taking you? Where do you live?”
“Take me anywhere. Just away from here.”
“This is a long stretch of highway. I’ll take you to the nearest town or rest stop, and then I’m calling the authorities. I’m not going to be held responsible if someone’s looking for you and I withhold useful information.” I had to come up with a plan. I considered going back to Vegas on my own and without the help of suits. But for whatever reason, something stopped me. We drove, and drove, and drove some more. It was quiet for some time, until I decided to speak up.
“I want to be free.”
“Excuse me?”
“My mother lives in this..., crazy world, and she works for bad people. She’s not bad, herself, but I’m tired of being caught up in all of it. I want to live my own life. I want to go to California. Find a job somewhere, make a name for myself on my own, somehow.”
“You’re a little too young to be going out on your own.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty three. Your mother’s probably worried sick about you.”
“I know she is, but.”
“But nothing. You need to go home.”
“Haven’t you ever felt unbearably restricted? I’m not meant to be that way. I’m tired of everything constantly changing because of her. It’s not that I don’t like change, it’s just. I want to do it my terms for once. And I want to go to California.”
“Well I’m not driving you to California. Sorry.” His tone was cold, and harsh. All I could do was lean back into my seat and stare out my window. Of course he couldn’t understand. No one could, really. I knew I didn’t have it that bad; I just needed some space. Something. After a few hours had passed, we reached a small town. I knew we were close to the California border. If I could just find a way to slip out and make a run for it..., but then what? Could I walk the miles and miles it would take to get me to civilization? As we pulled up, my mind was made up for me. Because there, moving to stand in front of car, was the suit from the diner. As we slowed, he came around to the driver-side window and my ‘chauffeur’ rolled it down. “Can I help you?”
“You have something that belongs to us.” I grimaced, shaking my head and glaring at him. I don’t belong to you.
“Who are you? Were you the one antagonizing this girl?” Oooh, antagonizing. Look at him, with his big, stupid, fancy words. My growing frustrations were eating at me.
“Hand her over. We just want to get her back to her mother.”
“No!” I protested, shaking the driver’s arm. “Please, don’t make me go with him!” The suit, growing agitated, pulled a pistol from his jacket, and pointed it at the driver.
“Woah, man! Hey! Just take her, just take her!” What do you mean, just take her!? He leaned over, opening the passenger-side door and literally pushing me out of the car. I fell with a soft cry and landed in the dirt. Within moments, he had backed up and sped away hastefully. I didn’t stay down for long; I knew I didn’t have time to think. I got up and tried to run, but within seconds, he grabbed me. I screamed. Suddenly, I was back in Manhattan, trying to get away from a birthday gone wrong. I kicked, and flailed, and struggled. It got me nowhere. He was stronger than me, and I could only fight him for so long. He brought me to a black van, where I was greeted by another two suits. They brought out some rope, tying my hands behind my back and my ankles together, like I was a swine being taken to slaughter. It hurt.
“Cloe asked the boss for us not to harm you, and we won’t. We’ll even be so kind as to leave your mouth free. But the second you start screaming, or wailing, or crying, we’ll stuff it and make you a little more uncomfortable.” They shut the back of the van, and it was pitch-black. I couldn’t see anything, or hear anything. I couldn’t move. I felt like all of my senses were taken away from me. But I could still think; my mind was wide awake and filled with dread and despair. I wriggled against the ropes a little and gave a silent sob. How could mother go so far? No, this wasn’t her fault. It’s them. I could feel tears stinging at my eyes and gliding down my cheeks. I was so close.
Hours had passed. Eventually, my body gave out and I just slept. I don’t really know how long I was out. By the time I came to, I heard the faint murmur of muddled conversation from outside the van. Suddenly, there was a blinding light. It stung my eyes and made me cringe and groan. “We have a situation. Get her up and out.” I could hear distant sirens, and the hum of overhead helicopters. Everything was blurry; my eyes couldn’t focus, and I could hear a slight ringing in my ears. I don’t know how many of them grabbed me, or which ones. There were hands all over me; I felt the ropes give slack, and they got me up onto my feet. Suddenly, everything snapped into focus and I saw things clearly. We were across the street from the hotel, and there were cops everywhere. People were yelling outside, a crowd in masse huddled together in a panicked state. There were cameras, and reporters, and vans.
“Where’s mom? Is my mom okay? Let me go! What’s going on?”
“The casino’s getting robbed and we have a hostage situation. Everything’s going to be fine, but you need to come with us. If you struggle, we’re going to have to sedate you.”
“Sedate me?” I fell silent then, walking along with the suits as we hurried into the building across the street from the hotel. We went up in an elevator, and before long, we were up at the roof. “What about mom?”
“Miss Silph has been apprehended by the criminals.”
“My mom is a hostage?”
“She was a target. They know of her relations with Mister Alexander. It was a smart move on their behalf.”
“I don’t care if it was smart! That’s my mom you’re talking about!” The wind whipped down from above in a frenzy as a helicopter landed on the roof. This has to be a bad dream, I thought. But nothing ever was. It was severely real, and I continued to be strung along for the ride.
“We’re going to take you to a safe place. Please try and remain calm. We will retrieve your mother as soon as possible.” They sounded like robots. All of them. Like they had no souls. Who talks like that? Before long, I was in the helicopter. I was afraid at first, and then I remembered that I had fell from the top of the Stratosphere. If I could do that, I could do anything. Derek popped into my head, then. Was he also stuck in the hotel? I missed him. I remembered our kiss, and it made my stomach swim. I braced myself as we took off, trying to keep my brain as calm as relatively possible.
The trip was a short one. In what felt like minutes, we had landed on another building. I felt positively nauseous. Here I was, still in my date-dress, which was now filthy and torn in several places. My hair was a mess, and I looked like I had slept in a ditch. I was being lead around by the men in suits, had no idea where they were taking me; mom was trapped in some sort of casino heist situation. I felt like I was in one of the Die Hard movies or something. It was surreal. I didn’t think something like this could actually happen; this sort of thing was reserved for over-the-top fiction. We exited the helicopter and made our way to a stairwell. There were stairs, and stairs, and more stairs, and an elevator. We took the elevator down and I could hear the low drum of classical music playing; it did not cease when we exited. It looked like we were in Mister Alexander’s hotel; the architecture was very similar, and had that familiar feeling of grandeur. However, this felt less like Vegas and more like Europe. I was brought to a room and urged inside.
“Stay here until you are summoned.” And so I did. They left me there, alone in a spacious room. I could no longer hear the music, but I could hear the bathroom faucet dripping. This wasn’t a hotel room, so much as it was a bedroom. I felt like I was in a manor, or mansion. Had I somehow transported myself into my dream world? Was the music before simply in my mind, echoing from the ballroom? I sat and waited, until there was a knock on the door. Hesitantly, I opened it. There was a lady standing there, holding onto a garment bag.
“Miss, you have been requested to join the master for dinner. He has asked that you bathe and wear this.” She extended the plastic-covered bundle and handed it to me.
“What’s his name? The boss, your..., master? That’s a little formal, isn’t it? We don’t live in the medieval days. Or the..., you know. The Civil War days.”
“I am not at liberty to give out my master’s name. Please be ready to go shortly. I will come and escort you.” I thought about eating with the suit leader and visibly cringed after shutting the door. But I had to admit, I was famished, and could definitely use a shower. When I entered the bathroom, I was mildly disappointed. There was no shower, and only a claw foot tub. It was pretty, though.
“Man, this is old fashioned. I kind of love it.” I readied my bath: warm, not too hot. There was a sponge for me to use, and a bar of soap. I bathed myself the old fashioned way, wiping away all the dirt and grime of all my struggles. As relaxed as I felt, I was still so very worried about mother. But I knew that the suits always got what they wanted, and they wanted mom. They’d get her back. When I got out and dried off, I made my way back to the mainroom and unfurled my wrapped package. It was quite the piece of couture, that dress. Brilliant shades of grey and teal, with just the right amount of ripples and ruffles. I could tell it was one-of-a-kind, and very, very expensive. After managing to get that tricky zipper all the way up my back, I noticed a glimmer at the very corner of my eye. I dug through the garment bag, and saw a small, silver box. Upon opening it, I discovered a pair of earrings: sapphires, cut in a teardrop shape and affixed to more silver. Did mom always get goodies from her boss, like that? No wonder she loves what she does. I dried my hair with a towel and let it do its own thing without much tampering. It’s not like I had much of a choice. Without much of a wait, my escort had come to claim me.
Barefoot in my couture, I walked along the carpeted hallway. I wondered what kind of building this must be, to be so private and yet so lux. The classical music kicked in again almost immediately; I felt like I was outside the symphony, trying to listen it. But as large, double-doors were opened, I was front and center. I could hear the clear, crisp tones in the music. I turned my head to look at the maid, but she had vanished. I was all alone, now. I walked down each step one foot at a time, lowering myself down to the floor. There was a large dining table: much too large for just two people. At the far end of the room, a fireplace, lit and flickering. The flames were my dancers, intertwining and mixing and flickering brightly. And then, I heard a booming voice. His voice.
“There you are..., child. Please, come and sit.” I hadn’t even noticed him, sitting at the head of the table. “To my left.” He gestured to seat closest to him. I gulped and made my way over, trying to retain my own inner feeling of beauty in that lush environment. I sat quietly, folding my hands in my lap. The food had already been laid out: fruit, and salads, and a roasted boar. There were trifles, and sweets, and wine- all the proper makings of a feast. “I..., apologize, for all the commotion. I know this must be a difficult time, but let me assure you, Cloe will be just fine. We are..., diffusing the situation.” I was unsure of what to say, and for a moment, there was an awkward pause. “Please, eat. You must be hungry.” I couldn’t deny it. I knew that the moment I did, my stomach would growl and call me a liar. I reached for a green apple, biting into it with a crunch. “We did your mother a favor, bringing you back here. It would be..., unwise for you to run away from her. She loves you very much, and is only looking out for your interests.” I looked at him, still unable to make myself speak. I carved away at some meat, placing a fairly large slab onto my place and taking a few bites. “She does owe us a favor, now. No matter. Cloe..., always knows how to have a good time. She enjoys our..., benefits. Do you like the dress?” Finally, I got the courage to speak.
“Yes..., it’s pretty. Is it designer?”
“From Paris.”
"So mom get a lot of nice things, working for you?"
“She does. We like to spoil our Cloe; she’s the best, at what she does. Makes us a lot of money.”
“I see.” I took a few more bites, and took a drink. It was wine, which I was unaccustomed to drinking. A rich, deep pinot noir. It was bitter at first, and then somewhat smooth. I tried not to scrunch my face as I got used to it, I wanted to look like mom did when she drank: fancy and refined.
“You could..., be like her, one day. It’s a fabulous life, with all kinds of..., perks.”
“I don’t think I could. Do what she does, that is.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, maybe I could. But..., not with your..., ‘company,’ or whatever it is. I’m not comfortable with all the..., you know..., scheming, and killing, and...” He laughed. The man was laughing at me.
“The world is a cruel place, child.” My eyes transfixed themselves on the various rings adorning his tanned fingers. “And what we do is hardly all that cruel. We help people, and punish only those who have done wrong.”
“What about Mister Shaw’s wife, huh? What did she do?” I gave him a confrontational stare, but all he did was raise a brow and tilt his head with confusion.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I heard you guys that night, talking about how you got rid of her.” He gave another hearty laugh.
“You..., have a wild imagination, child. We relocated her. No killing. She’s in a nice home, with a new name, and a man who doesn’t mind her..., inabilities.” I froze. Was I really wrong about this the whole time? Could the suit leader be telling the truth? What about Buck? Was he really just an unhappy man, forced to do bad?”
“...You had him fix the races. That’s stealing.”
“We use that money to help out people in need. Do you really believe that all of those rich people need all that gambling money?”
“Well-...” He had a point. He did, and I hated it. “Your men were mean to me. They tied me up to get me here.”
“Ah, yes. I am sorry for that. But it was all for a good cause. We needed to reunite you and Cloe. Please, come for a moment.” He extended a leg and patted it. I was confused in all sorts of manner. Was what I made myself believe a lie? Were they really not so bad? What was he asking me to do? Defying all reason and logic, I made my way over to the man, standing in front of him. “Sit.” He patted the leg again with what appeared to be a friendly smile. I felt my skin pale, but if I had already made the effort to rise and come to him, there was no point in turning back now. I sat on his leg, his strong, sturdy leg, and fell silent. “Such a lovely young lady. Could I appreciate such a pretty dress, and be such a bad man?” His rough fingers touched my hair, sliding through a few strands. Before I had time to react, the doors swung open. And there, looking quite distraught, was my mother.
“Get away from her!” She yelled furiously, walking over to the table. I got up and retreated a few steps, just to feel mom yank on my arm moment’s later and pull me behind her. “You promised you’d keep your hands off of her!”
“Cloe, Cloe. I meant no harm to the girl. We got her back for you, safe and sound. I’m glad to see that the problem across the street has come to a close. Is Victor..., okay?”
“Victor’s fine. The police have the robbers in their custody.” She looked at me; I was touched by the sincere concern in her eyes. “Are you alright, honey?”
“Yeah. I’m fine, mom.”
“Don’t you ever run out on me like that again! I was so worried about you!” She embraced me, squeezing.
“I’m sorry, okay? I just needed some space. I was stressed out.”
“You owe me, Cloe.” The suit leader spoke again, his eyes fixed on me, gleaming. My mom had a strange look on her face, but then shook her head dismissively.
“I’m aware. Thank you for bringing her home.”
“Why don’t you two..., take a vacation, or something? Take a few weeks off.”
“You know, I think that’s exactly what we need right now.” As soon as mom said that, I couldn’t help but beam.
“Why don’t you go somewhere..., extravagant? Italy? Paris? Rome?”
“California!” I blurted it right out, and then tried to subdue myself a little. “I mean..., I’d like to go to California.”
“Why don’t we take a roadtrip, Shay? We can pass through California, if you want.”
“That sounds perfect!” I hugged her a little bit, emphasizing how much I wanted to do just that.
Arriving back at Victor Alexander’s hotel was like shifting through a warzone. Police still looming, caution tape everywhere. There was debris scattered from broken windows and things having been knocked over. I was surprised they even let us in, but Mister Alexander was intent on getting everything cleaned up and back to ‘normal’ as quickly as possible. There was a part of me that wanted to go see Derek. To tell him that I was sorry, that what I did was wrong. To tell him how worried I was, and how much I missed him; that I was going to California soon, and maybe we could spend time together. But there was a wrenching feeling in my gut, and I knew better. I knew that after what I did, there was no turning back. Should I really judge the suits, or mom? Was I really a better person? I still felt so lost: so confused about everything. How many twisted truths had I made myself believe? I thought about him. Sitting on his knee. The sick thing about it was..., I liked it. And I knew that deep down, I enjoyed my little phone interaction with Anthony. Maybe there was a small part of me that was empathetic with the way that mother felt.
When we got up into our room, mother collapsed onto her bed in her room and fell asleep immediately. I took a shower, turned the television on, and tried my best to clear my head. It wasn’t working. There was so much noise: so many questions, and what-ifs. But the fact that mother knew that I needed a vacation made me give a whole-body smile. As the early morning hours loomed, I opened up my laptop, hoping I might see you-know-who. But what I saw instead, was that he was no longer on my friend’s list at all. I knew, without even asking, that mother had cut my ties with him. And as much as there was a part of me that craved our dialogue, another part of me was oddly relieved. I was going to go on a roadtrip to California, and I had no ties. I could be whoever I wanted to be.
I had the dream again, that night. Except this time, I was sitting on a throne. An ornate throne of red and gold and silver. And everywhere, there was dancing. Dancing, and paintings, and brilliant tapestries on the wall. Works of art that were truly spectacular. The music pulsed, and danced- highs and lows to sweep the partygoers off their feet. A man came to me, in a fancy suit. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t see his face. It was a blur, as if I were trying to stare into a bright light. Despite everything, when we offered me his hand, I took it. I took it, and we danced. We danced until we couldn’t dance anymore.
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