Page 63 of Tony

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Tony went into work to watch the cameras for a couple of hours after one of his employees had a family emergency. Sherrie hated that he worked so hard, but since the company was his she knew he felt responsible for every aspect.

After cleaning the house, she settled onto the sofa and flipped through the TV channels. Finding nothing, she clicked it off tossing the remote onto the end table. Seeing Betina’s art pad lying next to it, she picked it up and began to flip through the pages again.

The faces on each page were so lifelike. Their expressions reached out to her as though she were sitting in front of the actual person instead of an impression on the page. Girls. Boys. Some adults. Some with smiles, sitting at school desks. Others with a strangely blank look on their faces. Some of the eyes seemed haunted.

Rubbing her hand on her forehead she stared, trying to have a subliminal message come through.What was it she said?“My life, my world is in these drawings. I need you to understand that.”Your world? What did you want me to understand?

Feelings of frustration poured over her as the secret meaning was lost. Near the back of the art pad were drawings of places…the grocery, the laundry. Several of them were of the inside of the buildings depicting people at work. A few others were the outside, the details of her drawings overwhelming. She could see every brick on the outsides and every item on the insides.

Nothing. I’m getting nothing other than she is an incredibly talented artist. Maybe that was all she meant? Maybe she just meant that art is her world?

Giving in to the frustration, she heard Tony’s truck pulling back into the driveway so she tossed the art pad back to the end table.

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Marcella left for work, kissing Betina goodbye before walking out of the door. Betina hated when her mother went in early leaving her in the house alone with Hernando. Throwing her books into her backpack, she tried to hurry in an effort to avoid him.

No such luck.

“Betina, sit down,” he ordered walking into the kitchen. “We need to go over your new assignments.”

New assignments?She did not like the sound of that, but his expression brooked no disobedience.Fourteen more months and I’ll be eighteen years old. Graduated. Out of this house. Out of his life. If I live that long.

“Are you listening,” he growled, grabbing her upper arm, pushing her into a chair.

“Yes,” she replied, knowing she would have a bruise the next day.What’s one more?

“Keep up with the kids at school, but I want you more in the field as well.”

“I…where?” she asked in confusion.

“Bus station, for one. After school, you don’t go to the grocery store anymore. I want you to go to the downtown bus station. Watch for the young ones. Girls. The ones that look lost. Or alone.” Chuckling, he said, “Especially the ones that look scared and try not to show it. They’ll be best.”

“Best for what?” she asked.

His gaze was steel as he stared at her across the table. “Your job isn’t to know a fuckin’ thing. Your job is to do what I order, when I order, and exactly how I order. You got that?”

Her chest heaving with hate, she kept her expression steady. “Yeah, I got that. But what do I say?”

“Same as always. See if they need food. Direct them to the store. Once there, I or someone else will take care of them.”

“What’s different? Won’t they work in one of your shops?” she asked, dangerously curious.

“You don’t tell ‘em shit. You just get their trust. Give ‘em the address. Offer ‘em food. Leave the rest to me.”

Almost shaking with hate, she sat stoically for a moment, desperately trying to find a way to escape. This home. This man. This life.

His chair scraped across the floor as he jerked himself to a stand. He leaned over, his face right in hers, and snarled, “Don’t even think it. I can see you trying to think of a way to not do this, but bitch, you want your mama safe? Then you do what I say, when I say it. You mess this up and not only will you go in a pimp’s stable of whores, but your mama will too. You got me?”

“Yeah, I got it,” she whispered, trying to still her erratic heartbeat.

“Good. See that you do. You start today.” With that, he moved into the other room, calling out behind him, “Have a good day at school.”

She heard him chuckling to himself, amused at his own joke. She hated him. This was her life. Her world.If it’s the last thing I do, I’m getting out.

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