© 2012 Phylicia Joannis
Chuck sipped his coffee for what seemed the millionth time. He looked around the room, anxious and, oddly enough, bored. His coworkers were trying to make themselves comfortable in the lounge chairs. Several were texting, slouched in the lumpy chairs. Everyone seemed to be on edge. Being trapped inside for hours after work wasn’t anyone’s idea of fun.
“If we don’t get out of here soon I’m going to lose it,” one person grumbled as he rubbed his forehead.
“Why do they need us all to be here?” someone else asked, staring at their supervisor. She frowned as she replied.
“Because they think someone here assaulted the technician,” she responded. “They need to make sure whoever did this doesn’t run off.”
She eyed Chuck, who turned away. He put his coffee to his lips and tried to look normal, but his trembling hands were hard not to notice.
“You might want to go easy on the coffee, Chuck,” his supervisor stated tartly. “I’d hate for all that nervous energy to cause you to run off at the mouth again.”
Chuck turned towards his supervisor. “Excuse me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t know you threw me under the bus?”
Chuck looked around nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”
“Oh cut the crap, Chuck!” she spewed. “You told the detectives about our little,” she paused, then lowered her voice, “discussion from earlier. About the incident.”
“What did you want me to do?” Chuck hissed. He paused, then raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “You want me to lie to the police? Is that what you’re asking me to do?”
Several of his coworkers stopped and turned to listen. Chuck smiled to himself as his supervisor scowled and sat back in her chair, her mouth drawn in a tight line.
“Well?” Chuck gave her a smug look.
“We’ll continue this discussion later,” she stated quietly.
Chuck took another sip of his coffee, the trembling suddenly gone.
***
“No!” I shook my head and pulled away from the Congressman. “It’s been hard enough living my whole life knowing I was thrown away. At the very least, I could pretend that my mother did it with good reason. Like maybe she was a drug addict or mentally ill, or…or dying!”
The Congressman’s mouth parted, then closed. The Old Woman looked at me, then looked at the Congressman.
“What’s happened?” the Old Woman asked. I glared at the Congressman, waiting for him to explain himself.
The Congressman moaned and turned away, unable to face me. “Ray of Hope was the clinic I sent my mistress to seventeen years ago…to get an abortion. I paid for everything and gave her money to keep it quiet.” He glanced my way. “I’m so sorry.”
“So the rumors are true?” the Old Woman gasped. “You did have an affair?”
“More than that,” the Congressman looked at me.
The Old Woman looked at the Congressman, then at me.
“You had a daughter,” the Old Woman replied knowingly.
The Congressman nodded his head and fresh tears fell down his face.
My head began to swim.
“This can’t be happening,” I cried. “This can’t be possible!”
“It’s possible,” the Congressman choked. “I may be your father.”
My sadness turned to rage. “So you’re the reason why my life is so screwed up? I was left alone in the world because of you?”
“I thought the pain I caused died with my political career,” the Congressman frowned. “If I had known…”
“Save it,” I wiped my tears on my sleeve and stood to my feet.
“We have to get out of here,” I frowned. “There’s no way I’m dying in here with you.”
***
Penny descended the cold, cement steps leading to the downtown train and sipped the coffee in her hand. There was just over a spoonful of coffee left in the now wrinkled Starbucks cup, but she was trying to make it last.
She was surprised the trains were still running, what with all the holes mysteriously appearing in the ground. All uptown service past this station was suspended; only downtown trains were running. Her afternoon had been so surreal, what with the ground falling beneath her and Charles saving her life.
Charles.
He’d seemed so nice. A little rough around the edges, but deep down a nice guy. Why had he turned on her? Was he bipolar? If so, why was she always attracted to men with personality disorders? Why did her mother have to be right?
Penny stopped analyzing herself long enough to notice something crawling up from the subway floor. She tightened her grip on her coffee and watched as first one hand, then two, reached for the platform edge. Next came a scruffy, curly head and Penny reached into her purse for the pepper spray she immediately remembered leaving on the kitchen table. A suited, dirty man made his way onto the platform amid a few gasps from other straphangers.
“Don’t come any closer, dude,” Penny warned, shaking the hand in her purse dramatically, as if something deadly lay inside it. “Not with the day I’ve had.”
“You should hear about mine,” the Complainer ignored her ominous gesture and grabbed her coffee. He downed it and Penny cried out in protest.
“Have you lost your mind?” Penny exclaimed.
“Not at all,” the Complainer shrugged and tossed the empty cup onto the tracks. “Now miss, let me borrow your phone and I’ll buy you another cup. I have a ton of money to make.”
Penny held her hand over her nose as the Complainer stepped closer.
“Oh my God, you stink!” she exclaimed.
The Complainer rolled his eyes. “Did you not just see me claw my way out of the subway? It stands to reason I may stink. Now stop gawking and let’s get a move on. And hurry up with that phone.”
Without thinking Penny handed the stranger her cell phone and followed him back upstairs and out of the subway. He grimaced at the pink and white glitter all over the case before making his phone call.
She tried to listen in on the conversation, but he had his back to her. She caught bits and pieces, something about a cover up and a lawsuit.
The stranger finished his call and handed her back her cell phone.
“Why anyone would bedazzle their electronics is beyond me,” he muttered.
“A thank you would be sufficient,” Penny made a face. “What is it with you men today?”
The Complainer raised his eyebrows and walked away.
“Hey!” Penny called after him. “What about my coffee?”
The Complainer stopped and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. He sifted through the folds and shook his head.
“I don’t have any cash,” he stated apologetically. “If I see you again, I’ll buy you one.”
“No way,” Penny shook her head. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but if you think any place in this neighborhood is going to let you in smelling like that, you’re crazy. We can go to an ATM, I’ll buy you some clothes, and you’ll buy me my coffee.”
The Complainer frowned. “Give a complete stranger enough cash to buy me clothes so I can buy her coffee? Seriously?”
Penny narrowed her eyes. “You stole my coffee, hijacked my phone, and insulted my style. We’re practically besties.”
The Complainer thought it over. “How are your shopping skills? I don’t dress cheap.”
“You’re in good hands,” Penny smiled. They shook hands in agreement and the Complainer hailed a taxi. Penny pulled his arm down.
“I think it’s best we walk.”
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