Sadie's Travels

When she finally looked over at me, and saw me staring at Mick's body, she came to me, kneeling to block my view of the body.

"Hey, we need to go."

I started shaking my head like a mad woman, not sure who this person kneeling before me, with the same intense, loving chestnut-brown eyes I'd come to adore, was anymore. She seized my chin, stopping my head from shaking frantically.

"Sadie, Caruso's guys hired him to kill us. That's why no one had seen any of them in Harlem."

I blinked, finally looking at her, trying to comprehend the words.

"But he taught me how to play Backgammon," I whispered, my brain once again struggling to catch up. "He slept on the floor, right beside the bed, for ten days..."

"Come with me," she ordered gently.

She took my hand and led me from the cabin to his car. She opened the trunk of his faded yellow car and indicated that I should look inside. There was a lot of junk, dirty cloths, a tire, tools...and then I noticed at least three more guns and an envelope. She removed the envelope and handed it to me. It was filled with money.

"That's half. He was supposed to get the other half when he returned without us."

I stared at the evidence before me, forcing myself to run my fingers over the cash in my hand, trying to make it real. It just didn't make sense. He'd been so sweet for ten long days...could he really have been hired to kill me? To kill Lin? Would he have gone through with it?

"How did you know?" I finally whispered.

"I still have a few friends on the inside of Caruso's network. Those contacts will dry up soon, but..." She seemed a little agitated, annoyed...angry. I wasn't sure if she was annoyed because I was wasting time asking questions or because they had gotten to someone she trusted.

I looked at her imploringly, still confused, "but he was one of yours. You sent him up here because you trusted him, right?"

She sighed, "yeah baby. But that's a lot of money. And the truth is no one was sure what was going to happen with me. A woman taking over for Caruso? It seemed unlikely. He probably thought I was dead anyway."

I stood there, staring at the money and guns in the trunk. Lin left my side to re-enter the cabin and I knew she was probably grabbing our things so we could head back to New York...but a part of me still couldn't wrap my mind around what had just happened. Lin had pulled a gun and shot someone a few feet away from me. Someone who I felt I'd come to know. Someone I'm come to trust, no matter how poor my judgment. If that could happen here, in this remote little getaway, far from the nightmare Harlem had become for me, then what was going to happen when we returned? How many more people would Lin have to kill? How many more people would try to kill her...or me? Wouldn't everything in my life change now? Wouldn't everyone I know be in danger? What kind of life was that? Always looking over my shoulder, always wondering when the next shoot out would begin, always wondering when someone I'd come to know would die right in front of me...

I wasn't sure when I'd decided to do it, but I was running through the woods moments later. Running along the same path Mick and I had walked to clear my head hours earlier. Running in the dark, tripping over tree roots and rocks, running...just running. I heard her, calling my name out into the dark over and over again...but still I ran.

*

I'm not sure how long it took me to find a road to follow. I walked along it in the dark, keeping my head down, ignoring the cars that passed me by and the cars that stopped, asking if I wanted a ride. Most of those inquiries were made by men and I just wasn't in the trusting mood. Besides, I wasn't hitchhiking...I just needed to walk. I needed to clear my head. I needed...some time. Time away from violence and murder and betrayal...time away from Lin.

I'd been walking along the same road for hours, the sun finally coming up, when another car pulled over in front of me. I'd planned to ignore it, as I'd ignored the others, but a woman with coffee colored skin stood from the vehicle. She was older, her entire head filled with gray hair, and she was short and rather plump. She reminded me of someone's grandmother. When I reached her car, she raised a brow.

"You shouldn' be hitchin', a pretty little thing like you."

I nodded, "I know ma'am, I'm not. Just walking."

She looked at me with a strange look on her face, "this back road doesn't really go nowhere, sweetie. I just know it cuz I make a trip up here every few months to see a friend."

I didn't respond, wondering how I could politely tell her to go away.

"Come on, let me drop you somewhere," she said finally.

I shook my head, "no thanks, ma'am."

"No arguin' now, get in. I can't leave you out here an call myself a Christian."

And with that she got back in her car and closed the door. I wasn't sure what to do. My feet were hurting and I was a little tired. She seemed nice enough...

I opened the passenger door and slid in, closing the door and locking it. "Thanks."

She nodded and started driving. After a few minutes of silence she looked over at me before asking, "so, what're ya runnin' from?"

I liked her accent. She wasn't from South Carolina, but her southern twang reminded me of my childhood before all the chaos started. I sighed.

"I'm not running...not exactly."

She chuckled, "coulda fooled me."

I didn't have a response to that, so I didn't say anything.

"Come on, we got a long drive before reachin' civilization," she urged again.

I don't know why, but I just sighed and started telling her everything. And I mean everything. About my childhood, about Mrs. Johnson's death, about Lin (except I didn't tell her Lin's name or mention that Lin was actually a woman)...about the drugs, the rape, the killing. I just talked and talked and talked until I was all talked out. She was a good listener, this stranger. She hardly interrupted me. And when I had finally run out of steam, she didn't say a word, just drove on for a while in silence.

"So now ya don't trust your man, is that it?" She asked eventually.

Was it that simple? I couldn't trust myself to know who Lin really was. The woman who pulled that gun and killed Mick was not the same woman that loved me so sweetly she made my blood boil...was she? I took a deep breath and exhaled...and then did it again. I think she was right. I felt like I didn't know anything anymore.

When I didn't say anything, she kept talking, "we all go through that ya know. We think we know somebody, then somethin' happens...and the veil is lifted. It's gone. And now ya have to either deal with who that person really is, or leave 'em."

Again, I didn't say a word, but I knew what she meant. Especially about the veil being lifted. It's the exact same way I'd felt when Betty had pieced everything together for me. It was probably a pretty good description of how I was feeling.

"Look, Sweetie. Sounds like your man had a lot going on...while trying to give ya a chance to get to know 'im. Probably didn't wanna tell ya too much, thinkin' it might run ya off. And now look what's happened...ya ran off."

She chuckled at the thought...and I wondered. Is that why Lin had kept so much from me? Trying to protect me? Trying not to scare me? If that was true, it would certainly make me re-think some things...

"To me it sounds like ya need some time to sort it out. So, I say take the time. Cuz if ya decide to go back, he's gonna need ya to be there for 'im, really be there. So...take as long as ya need. That's what I say."

She didn't say another word after that. And I thought it was so strange that I would wind up in this car with this woman. Strange. But my head hurt thinking about it. So I decided to I let the monotony of the road lull me to sleep instead.

***

Ms. Carol let me stay with her. She lived in Maryland. She got me a job waitressing and I paid her rent to live in her house. It was nice to just take a breath and live a simple life again. Ms. Carol had been married twice, widowed once and divorced once. And she had no kids. She did most of the cooking and cleaning, so all I had to do was go to work. She also loved going to the movies, so we went to see quite a few. And she loved to read, introducing me to quite a few authors I'd never heard of.

After about two months, I wasn't content to live a simple life in Maryland with Ms. Carol anymore, no matter how sweet she was. So I bought a one-way bus ticket to South Carolina, wrote her a note, left a little extra money on the kitchen counter, packed up my few belongings, and left.

I wouldn't say I went back "home" per se...it was more like I wanted to see where I'd lived when I too young to remember anything bad. The home my parents owned had been seized by the state years ago, but it was still empty and looked pretty run down. It was a lot smaller than I remembered, but I still had fond memories of running around the small lot, playing with my dad and some of the local kids. The feelings the place triggered within me were positive for the most part.

I didn't remember anyone who lived in the area and they didn't remember me considering no one said a word the few times I walked around. I decided to stay in South Carolina for a while, renting a room in a boarding house and, eventually, finding a waitressing job. But my sense of connection to the place no longer existed, so I left after only a month. From there I bought a ticket to Fayetteville, it didn't matter where I landed, and pretty much followed the same pattern. I found a room to rent, got a job, and stayed as long as I felt like staying until it was time to move on.

***

It took me a while to realize that I was buying bus tickets for cities closer and closer to New York. Even after I realized what I was doing, it still took me six more months to find my way back to Harlem. This time I didn't find a room to rent. I went straight to Mr. Mitchell's shop, realizing I'd missed him and his oddly detached ways. I was quite stunned to see the shop closed in the middle of the day. And when I peeked through the windows, it looked like it had been closed for a while. The thought saddened me.

I was tempted to go to my apartment, but realized, considering it had been a year, the landlord had probably rented it out and sold my stuff. That thought was even more depressing. I'm sure I must have realized it long before arriving in New York, but facing the reality of it was a different story. Besides, I had been sure Mr. Mitchell would let me camp out in the back room for a while. I was distraught to find that option was no longer available.

I had something to eat in a local diner, careful to select one I'd never frequented when I lived in the area so no one would recognize me. I noticed they had a 'help wanted' sign in the window and filed that away in my memory for future reference. But before I decided where I would sleep that night, or where I might get a job, I had to go see someone who lived in a North-Western direction from my old apartment building. Someone who I needed to see most desperately, but who, I worried, would not want to see me. So I finished my lunch and began to walk toward the brownstone I'd visited only once before.

This time when I stood outside of the large three-storied brick building, I wasn't worried about anyone recognizing me. I simply stared up at the steep set of stairs leading up to the front door, trying to find the nerve. There was no metallic green Cadillac parked on the street to distract me, just the thought of facing her, after all this time, and wondering what I would say. I stood there for quite some time before I forced myself to climb the steps and ring the doorbell. I waited, nervous, actually terrified, as I heard someone moving around and then opening the locks on the door.

But nothing could have prepared me for the face staring back at me. I recognized her, from the two times I'd seen her at the club with Lin. She was barefoot, dressed in a pair of white chinos and a red blouse, a cigarette dangling from her perfectly painted, perfectly pouty lips. It was the gorgeous, golden hued woman who'd worn that skin-tight gold lamé dress the last time I saw her. The mistress...Big Lou's mistress. I hadn't been prepared to deal with this situation, so I just stood there, staring at her like an idiot. After a few seconds, she finally sighed impatiently, removing the cigarette.

"Help you?" She asked tartly, her voice thick and sexy just like the rest of her.

Could she help me? Could she help me? Yes. She could tell me what she was doing answering Lin's door. She could tell me what she was doing with my Lin. Could she help me? The question seemed so simple...

"Uh..." I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to do next. Clearly Lin had moved on. I'd never thought about it. Never thought about her seeing someone else. But why wouldn't she? She was attractive, well-off, charming, sexy...any woman would be thrilled to be with her. Why had it never occurred to me? Why had I assumed she was as stuck on me as I was on her? I shook my head, trying to deal with the confusing, conflicting emotions churning within. Could she help me? Could she? No. She couldn't.

"Uh, I think I have the wrong building." I finally squeaked out, backing down the stairs slowly, trying not to stare at her any longer. I turned to make my way down the remaining steps when her voice stopped me.

"I know you?"

I hesitated. I could just leave. I didn't owe her an answer or anything else. But instead I turned to face her once again, not bothering to climb the stairs again.

"I don't think so."

"Actually, didn't I see you talking to Lin at the club a few times?" She asked, squinting her eyes a little.

I shrugged, not sure I was ready to hear something like 'well, Lin doesn't want to see you.' Or, 'she's moved on since you disappeared.' But that wasn't what she said next.

"If you're looking for him, he's not here."

I wasn't sure what to do with that information. Would she be back later? Should I come back or never return? I waited, not sure what to say.

"I mean, he doesn't live here anymore."

She filled in when she saw my confusion. Okay...more news I was expecting. So where was she?

"He let me have the place until I got on my feet. I imagine he didn't think I would be here this long," she laughed, her laughter tinkling in the air. God, was there anything that wasn't perfect about this woman?

"Uh..." There was my eloquent response once again. I swallowed, forcing myself to utter some other words, "do you know where I can find him?" I almost tripped over the last word, not used to referring to Lin as a male anymore.

"He moved into some rinky-dink three bedroom apartment over on 124^th and Lenox."

My heart skipped a beat. My old apartment? Lin had moved into my old apartment?

"Uh..." I certainly hadn't learned the art of conversation while I was away apparently.

She leaned against the doorjamb and smiled. It wasn't a sweet smile...it was a little unsettling actually.

"Oh, you probably thought Lin and I were—..." She laughed at the idea, shaking her head. "Nope. Lin's a sweetheart. Like I said, he let me stay here. But I could never be like 'that' with Lin."

I just stood there, silent. I wasn't sure where she was going with this or why she was talking to me about it.

She looked around conspiratorially and then returned her gaze to me. "I don't mess with freaks, you know what I mean? I mean, you know Lin's not really a dude, right? Just pretends to be one. It's sick if you ask me."

That made me raise a brow. Wow. Well, I guess I had less to worry about than I thought. I nodded, but didn't say a word to her. What do you say to someone who says that about the woman you love? So I just turned and started walking, heading back in the direction I'd come from.

It was odd to me that I could admit that I loved her so easily now. It'd taken months for me to get there. The longer I was away, the more I ached for her. At first I thought I just missed having sex with her, missed all those wonderful things she did to my body...but I soon realized it was more than that. It wasn't just her touch or her smell that I missed, it was everything about her. Her cool, calm, collected nature, her sharp awareness, the way she smiled, the way she looked out for me...everything. Everything. I'd come to realize that around the same time that I realized I was already making my way back to her, slowly but surely.

The walk back to my apartment building took less time for some reason. Perhaps because there was a skip in my step that wasn't there before? I believed that she wasn't dating anyone. I believed that she was waiting for me. I realized I could be wrong, but considering she'd moved into my old apartment, I was more confident than I been an hour or so ago. I hoped I wasn't wrong.

When I hurried up the steps to the lobby of my old building and opened the front door, I was more than a little surprised once again. There was a desk there now, with a phone and a newspaper on it. And there was a man sitting behind it. A very tall, very muscular, very black man.

"Can I help you ma'am?" He asked politely in a deep voice as he stood.

I raised a brow, "I-I didn't know they hired a doorman," I stuttered.

It was his turn to raise a brow and I looked down as he opened his suit jacket just a little, enough for me to see the gun tucked into a shoulder holster.

"I'm not a doorman, ma'am. Can I help you?"

I was dumbfounded. What the heck was going on here?

"Uh...I live here," I offered hesitantly.

He shook his head, "I've worked here for eight months ma'am and I know everyone who lives in this building. I don't know you."

I realized he was right. I guess I didn't live there technically, although I was pretty sure the apartment was still in my name.

"Well, I used to live in apartment 3H. About a year—"

"Are you Ms. Sadie, ma'am?" He interrupted.

Surprised, I nodded. He held up a finger, "one minute."

I watched as he dialed a phone number and had a muffled conversation with the person on the other end. A moment later, he hung up.

"Go on up, ma'am. Sorry for the wait."

Surprised again, I made my way to the elevator, turning back to see if he was watching me. He wasn't. He'd returned to his seat and was reading the newspaper. When I entered the elevator, the door closing behind me, the thought of him faded fast. I was on my way up to my apartment...and Lin would be there. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. God, I was so nervous. What if she was so angry she couldn't say a word to me? What if she was simply waiting to end things officially? What if...I took another deep breath and let it out. There was only one way I was going to find out what Lin was thinking, and that was to talk to her. When the doors opened on the third floor, I stepped from the elevator hesitantly.

There were more men, apparently waiting to enter the elevator as I exited. They all shocked me as they greeted me with "hello Ms. Sadie." The six of them in that elevator had to be a tight fit, but they squeezed in anyway. Odd, I thought. They knew me although I didn't recognize any of them. I watched the door close, but then realized I was stalling as I listened to the sounds of the elevator descending. I swallowed again and made my way to the apartment.

They had left the door open...and I was taken by surprise yet again. The walls had been painted a cool, soft grey. There was thick, wall-to-wall carpeting on the floor, a darker grey, and Lin's furniture was everywhere. Dark burgundies, greys, wooden frames...it was the same apartment, but it hardly looked the same. There were fancy lamps, glass end tables...for a moment I wondered if I was in the right place. But I had to be, right? I stepped inside and closed the door...and realized she'd been watching me.