Tuesday, October 29, 2013

TCB Part 28: Chapter 9: Saturday

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 27


Chapter 9: Saturday


For the second time, Charlotte woke in a strange place. It was dark, except for a flickering light at the other end of a long room. She was disoriented and her head throbbed with pain. She tried to remember where she was, focused on the light. It was an oil lamp. She was in the safehouse.
Her dreams had been strange last night. She had been running from something, or someone. It seemed that all of her friends were against her. They all wanted to see her caught. It was frightening to her to have so many people out to get her. She was no stranger to the occasional fight; in fact she enjoyed the occasional fight. But this was different. It was paranoia, and that was something she was not used to.
She thought back to the previous night. The heist ended without fanfare. She hobbled her way into the safehouse and the team immediately began to fight. It’s amazing what money and greed will do to a person. After they divided everything, the team went their separate ways. Except Charlotte had nowhere to go. She hadn’t had anywhere to go in a long time.
She sat against a wall in the abandoned subway station and pulled her knees up to her chest. She remembered where she’d come from. She remembered the orphanage that had been her only real home. She remembered the way the teachers had abused her and the other kids. She remembered escaping from her room in the middle of the night. She hopped the fence and just ran.
Her outlook on life had been different since then. She loved life, but was never afraid to lose it. There was nobody who cared for her, no family, no true friends. She’d found a group of people where she fit in, racing airbikes and taking risks. It felt great to put her life on the line every day for a thrill. As she got better at racing, she lost that thrill. She supposed that was why she accepted this job; it was a new thrill.
Now that she had money, she wasn’t sure where she would get her thrills. She could buy any machine she wanted. She could have the best airbike. She could even buy a wingsuit from old Dr. Monty. That reminded her that she’d left the wingsuit in the tunnel. She would have to do something about that. Eventually, someone would go snooping around that tunnel and find the suit. They might tie it to her.
She stood up and was instantly reminded of the crash from the prior day. Her back ached in several places. Her wrist was throbbing and swollen. It was probably broken. She stretched her arms into the air and the blood rushed from her head, leaving her dizzy and light headed. She leaned against the wall to regain her balance. She hopped onto the tracks and went to the boxcar. Her things were all still there. She grabbed a few handfuls of gold coins and shoved them in her pockets. Other things would have to wait.
She climbed the stairs to the surface of the city. Today was not as clear as the day before. Dark clouds were overhead and it smelled like rain. The rain would be a relief from the smog that sat thick in the valley. The streets in this part of town were abandoned as usual. As she walked toward the population center, she saw more and more people. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head to avoid attracting any attention.
She walked past a newsstand as she entered the fashion district. Plastered across the front of every paper was a bold-faced headline: LESTER TRAIN ROBBED! Her heart skipped a beat. Of course it would be in the news. It was the biggest theft in recent memory. She dug in her pocket for a coin, and realized that every coin she had was hundreds of times more than the price of the paper. She turned around and saw a clothing boutique and opted for a change of apparel.
 The looks she received upon entering the boutique were more than a little dirty. She could only imagine what they were thinking when she walked in. She soon found out what they were thinking when a polite saleswoman approached to tell her that they did not sell men’s clothing.
Charlotte laughed and pulled her hood back, “Lady, you don’t know how many times I’ve wanted men to see me as their equal. Yet it took walking into a dress shop to have it happen.”
She threw a couple of gold coins on the counter and asked what that would get her. The saleswoman nearly choked on her tongue, then apologized profusely. Half an hour later, Charlotte walked out of the store with a new dress and the latest fashion in ladies riding apparel. They were both completely impractical and totally uncomfortable. But for the first time, she would fit in.
She now had small change for the paper, and bought one on her way out of the shop. She crossed the street to the Hotel Paladium, where she again threw down a coin and asked for a room. Her first shower in days felt incredible. She scrubbed the dust and dirt and filth from her skin and hair. Looking in the mirror afterward, she realized that she looked like a battered wife.
She rang for service and had the hotel send her a makeup kit and a giant breakfast. The meal was more than satisfying. It was the first thing she’d eaten in a day. She was beginning to feel more human after a shower and a meal. She opened the paper to read about herself in the lead story. She was amazed at how many words the reporter wrote in order to say nothing. She learned from the story that they’d done a thorough job, and left not much evidence. She also learned that Montgomery Lester had hired a private investigator to get to the bottom of it.
After an hour of struggling with the kit, she had finally produced something that looked like a normal woman. She put on her new fancy dress and winked at herself in the mirror. “Charlotte Avalon, you’re quite a looker.”
Thinking about the news story again, she decided that she needed to move that suit as soon as possible. She wasn’t worried about the useless city cops finding it anytime soon, but if he’s got a PI on the job, it won’t take much to find that. She laced up a new pair of thick black boots. At the last minute, she decided to bring the dress bag along with her as well. She locked the door and headed out.
It was amazing how things change with just a little makeup and fabric. She had men opening doors for her, tipping their hats in the street. She suddenly felt like she was a part of the society that had left her by the wayside. It was unfair that the way she looked could have that effect, and yet it was really nice too. She smiled at everyone who passed.
As rain began to fall, she rushed to a steamer cab, arriving at the same time as a young man about her age. “After you, miss.”
Charlotte smiled, “Oh, thanks buddy. I mean, thank you sir.”
He smiled sheepishly as he shut the door behind her and hailed the next cab.
How odd, she thought. A guy who would stand in the rain a few extra seconds so she could get this cab. None of the guys at the track were polite like that. She was lucky if they’d let her borrow a hammer. She directed the cabby to drive her out of the city toward the spot where the tunnel was.
Once in the country, she asked the cab to wait for her. She borrowed an umbrella from the driver and stepped out into the morning drizzle. The dress made it hard to walk across the uneven surface, but she made it. Ducking into the tunnel, she found the suit. Memories of the previous day’s adventure flooded her mind.
She shoved the rocket suit into the ample dress bag and made her way back to the waiting cab. Safely inside, she asked to be taken back to the hotel. The driver, who had been silent to this point, spoke up. “You reckon this is where that robbery happened?”
“Robbery? Oh, the train thing? Well, I suppose it is. I hadn’t thought about it.” She was hoping that was nonchalant enough, but she wasn’t very good at this game.
“Yeah. I heard it was on that very rail line there. I wonder how they did it; pretty impressive bit of villainy that is.”
Charlotte had an urge to tell the cabby that it was her and tell him just how impressive it was. She wanted to take his praise and own it. Instead she had to internalize it, and pretend to be disinterested. “I suspect they were very clever villains.”
“You can say that again. What I wouldn’t give to meet them.” The cabby half turned his head to look back at Charlotte. “I mean, just to find out how they did it. I’d never do anything like that m’self.”
“Of course not.” Charlotte couldn’t muster a polite smile.
“Say, if you don’t mind my asking, what was it you came out here for?”
Charlotte thought about telling him it wasn’t his business and leaving it at that. But since he was so keyed in on the robbery, she didn’t think it wise to give him reason to suspect. “Oh, I work for the railroad. Tunnel maintenance. I forgot a dirty worksuit here this week and I wanted to get it laundered.” She held up the dress bag for him to see.
He nodded in the mirror. “You don’t look like a railworker, if you don’t mind my saying. Rail workers aren’t usually so pretty.”
That made Charlotte smile. “Most of my gentleman friends tell me that I clean up well on the weekends.” She winked at the cabby, who blushed and went back to his driving. She hoped that would be enough to keep his mind off the heist. For once, she wished she had Anabelle’s charms to disarm this simple cab driver.
When they arrived back at the hotel, she paid the driver and gave him a generous tip. “That’s to keep you out of trouble.” She winked again, though she was screaming inside at how out of character she was acting. She blamed it on the confounded dress.
The driver smiled back at her. “Say, if you’re not busy tonight. I get off at eight if you want to catch a bite or something.” His face turned bright red.
“Tonight’s not good. Maybe another time.” Charlotte patted his hand and got out of the car. She headed straight for her room. She tossed the wingsuit on the bed and collapsed into a chair. Who knew that being a lady could be so exhausting?

Part 29 >

No comments: