Page 3 of Heart Me Up
I walked around to search for Mariposa and make sure she was okay. She didn’t love big groups of people, and Artie and Carlos had spooked her when they rushed out the door earlier. I found her under the torture couch, as Artie had named it. “Hey, girl,” I crooned. “I hope your daddy comes home soon. Then you won’t have to deal with these assholes anymore.”
When I returned to the kitchen, Mike and Amy had set up a buffet along the counter, and Artie and Carlos appeared to be debating something about the beer in the fridge.
Silvia hopped off her barstool and intercepted me. “Foster, can I speak to you about something?” She lifted a plastic grocery bag I hadn’t noticed earlier. “I need your help.” Everyone immediately shut up to listen.
“Of course, Silvia, anything you need,” I said.
She’d stopped smiling, and for once she looked her age. I walked over and put my arm around her shoulders in a half-hug, not wanting to squish whatever was in the bag. Her track suit was soft under my hand, but beneath the fabric her muscles, firm from hours of exercise videos, were tense.
I released her. “What’s going on?”
She took a deep breath. “I need you to talk to thesecabronesfor me.” My eyes went wide. Silvia rarely cursed. “I’m too angry to confront them myself without screaming or crying, and you’re more intimidating than I am anyway.”
She stuck her hand in the plastic bag and pulled out what appeared to be a ripped-open envelope containing a greeting card. She shoved it at me and stepped back, balling up the bag with sharp, jerky movements. The envelope was addressed to “The Family of Corrina Richards” at Silvia’s address. The sender was the Bark & Purr Pet Resort, with an address on Whitshire on the edge of town.
“What is this?” I asked her.
“Open it, you’ll see. My Corrina told me how awful they were to her there. She had to quit only a few days after she started. But this!” She pointed angrily at the envelope. “Whodoesthis?”
I pulled out the card, and a chill went down my spine. “Our Deepest Condolences on Your Loss,” was printed over a photo of some trees at the edge of a lake. What the fuck?
Inside was a similar pre-printed message, and a dozen or more people had added handwritten notes including, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” “Corrie was so sweet. We will miss her,” and “Such a tragedy. You are in our thoughts”.
I checked the envelope again. It was postmarked more than a month earlier. “When did you get this?” I asked Silvia. The others crowded around and Amy took the card from me to read it.
“I found it on Corrie’s dresser when I was cleaning her room. How could they do such a thing? It’s bad enough to bully a young girl, but to send something like this to an employee after she’d left? Is this supposed to be some kind of horrible prank, like they’re saying she’s dead to them? It’s evil, pure evil.” She stopped talking as if overcome. I stepped in to give her another hug.
“Let me make sure I understand. Corrie worked for these people, and they sent her this card after she quit?”
“Si. They forced her to quit; she told me how they bullied and harassed her from her first day. They got out of paying unemployment for her too. And now this!” Silvia threw her hands in the air.
The others muttered about who would send a condolence card to someone’s family when they weren’t even dead.
Artie asked, “What the heck is a pet resort?”
I ignored him and addressed Silvia. “Explain about the bullying.”
“Si.She came home crying every night. They kept getting on her about not doing everything perfectly before she’d been properly trained. She said they wouldn’t let her take breaks. She was miserable there.”
All of us were immediately angry on Corrie’s behalf.
“You’d think people who worked with pets would be nicer,” Mike commented.
But then I remembered we were talking about Corrie, who couldn’t be bothered to help Silvia clean the house she lived in for free. Would she really be a model employee? Would she be honest about her job if she didn’t enjoy it?
Sometimes just for fun I acted like a real detective and used deductive reasoning and shit.
“What did Corrie say about the card?” I asked.
“I haven’t talked to her; she’s been at her new job at the hair salon all day. I’m sure she was trying to spare me by hiding it. Foster, these awful people can’t be allowed to do this to anyone else. Would you please go there and make sure thosependejosunderstand the police are aware of what they did?”
She knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything official. Sending a condolence card was weird but not a prosecutable offense. Still, this was Silvia, who’d been the first to welcome me with open arms to the neighborhood. Who was devoutly Catholic but didn’t care I was gay. Who made heaps of food for all of us but only expected our company in return. There was never any question of whether I’d go.
“Of course. I’ll talk to them and see what I can find out. At the very least I'll hang my badge on my belt and frighten them a little. I’ll go tomorrow when I get off shift.”
Silvia nodded firmly. “Yes. You put the fear of God in them, Foster. Or at least the fear of the police. Get some justice for my Corrie, and make sure they don’t treat their other employees like this!” Her voice rose and her eyes flashed with righteous outrage.
Amy came over and patted her arm. “Silvia, Foster will get to the bottom of it. Don’t worry.” I wasn’t surprised she didn’t offer to go with me. Amy loved Silvia but she didn’t waste her time on fool’s errands.
