Standing In The Crowd

After a half hour flight to LAX with a screaming infant, then another half hour flight with a sleepy, drugged infant (as another wise mother told me to do from the first flight) we arrived at Meadows Field Airport. By the time we got out of the tiny airport with our baggage in tow it was seven in the evening and I (and Torrie) was starving. I flagged down a taxi after a few tries.

“Where to?” asked a middle aged Hispanic man with really bad teeth.

“Cheap motel,” I shrugged, with a cart loaded with our suitcases, Shelby in a crate, and Torrie’s carrier/car-seat struggling to keep Torrie in my arms as she started waking up.

“Motel 6 down 99 alright?” he asked as I placed Torrie and her car-seat in the car.

“Sure,” I mumbled just hoping it wasn’t too far. I wasn’t sure how well the trunk would hold, it barely shut once everything was in it.

“How old is she?” he asked as I finally got in the car.

“Almost four months old,” I responded quickly and he shut up, taking the hint.

Within fifteen minutes we arrived at the Motel 6. It wasn’t as run down as I had expected. As I lifted the now screaming Torrie out of the car after paying the driver, I pulled all the bags from the back and put them on top of Shelby’s crate. I knew dogs weren’t allowed, but we didn’t really have anywhere else to go for the moment.

“Thanks,” I nodded to the cabbie.

“Take care,” he said sincerely before driving off.

I went to the office and got a room for three nights (optimistically hoping we could find a place by then). I dragged everything over to the room, finally let Shelby out of her crate, called Jennifer to tell her we’d arrived safely, fed Torrie, then decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed food.

I brought Shelby on her leash (figuring she could use a walk by then) and Torrie in her carrier in search of food. After a few minutes I spotted Jack in the Box and my mouth started watering instantly. All I could taste were the tacos. Ah, the glorious Yack in the Box tacos.

When we got there I tied Shelby up to a table outside and placed Torrie next to her since I needed to carry the tray and drink. I was waiting for my number to come up when I heard barking. I turned around and spotted Shelby baring her teeth at a man who was trying to get near Torrie. I ran outside.

“Shut up you stupid mutt,” he told Shelby, kicking her. She refused to back down. This man was not going near my daughter.

“Just what are you doing?” I asked, coming up behind him.

“Trying to get my daughter away from this dog,” he informed me.

“Oh really? Cause last I checked that was my daughter,” I said, trying to stay cool and ignore the fact I was shaking.

“Oh, my mistake,” he said simply, glaring at Shelby as he walked away.

Once he was well away from us, I rushed over to Torrie and held her, to remind myself she really was mine. Then I heard Shelby whimper.

“Oh, honey. Are you okay?” I asked, examining her face to find a bleeding gash. I still couldn’t believe quiet, shy Shelby had been the one to prevent my daughter from being kidnapped.

With Torrie still in my arms I went back in, grabbed my food, and ate as we all three walked over to the Safeway next to the Jack in the Box. I ignored the no animals sign in front of the store and brought Shelby in too. We walked towards the pharmacy department when a manager came over to us.

“There are no animals allowed in the building aside from service dogs,” he told us sternly.

“Look, he just saved my baby from being kidnapped and got a nasty gash from it. I’m not letting either of these two out of my sight. We just came to get stuff for her wound,” I explained truthfully.

He started to say something, then Shelby whimpered and he stopped.

“Let me take you to where the hydrogen peroxide and necessary supplies for stitches are,” he offered instead.

“Thank you,” I nodded gratefully.

***

After half an hour, a very patient Shelby was done. She looked worse off than she had before I’d taken the needle to her. At least I knew she was better off. I kissed her and gave her a bowl full of dry dog food I’d gotten from the grocery story. Torrie marveled quietly at us. I’d set her next to me on the bed.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” I told her, unable to think what would have happened if she had been abducted like the man had tried to. I may never have seen my baby again.

“I promise never to let that even possibly of that happen again. I can’t. You’re the only family I may ever have,” I told her.

I fell asleep on the bed, cuddling Torrie and Shelby, praying tomorrow wouldn’t be nearly as nerve racking.

***

I spent the entire next day calling various cheap places for rent in the area, but none allowed pets. After another meal of Yack in the Box tacos, I went through a different local newspaper and finally found three places that allowed animals. I set up appointments with each of them for the following day, wondering what exactly they’d think of a single teen mother with a four month old and an old guard dog. I sighed and figured not too much.

I went through my funds, the ones I’d acquired through my two nights working as an… escort to see what kind of an offer I could make, and how long I could stretch out the money.

Afterwards I felt oddly lonely and couldn’t stop thinking about Mike. It was the first time I’d really thought about him in a long time. I missed him. I almost wished I had told him about Torrie, but at the same time he would have stopped the whole band thing and he would be miserable, I just knew he would.

No, it’s better this way and you know it. Get over it. Move on already.

It was then I decided I was done with ‘what-ifs’ and it was time to let go. Mike was a part of my life I would never totally forget (how could I with Torrie?), but I had to stop dwelling on him.

***

The next day I left with Torrie (since I didn’t know anyone in town who could babysit) in a cab to the first of three places I would visit today.

“What can you tell me about the area?” I asked the cabbie after I explained to her I was looking at a place where we were headed.

“Eh, not the worst part of town, but definitely not the best. It’s right next to the worst part of town and a lot of times the worst side of town gets dragged over,” she said honestly.

“Would you live there?” I asked.

“Depending on how desperate I was, maybe,” she said, casting a look at Torrie.

We didn’t speak anymore til she told me what I owed her. I paid and got out of the car to see the address. It was a rundown apartment complex. Outside was a woman I’d talked to on the phone.

“Lillian?” I asked, walking over.

“Oh… Charlotte?” she asked, taken aback.

“Charlie, please,” I nodded.

“Who is this?” she asked, pointing at Torrie.

“My daughter Torrie,” I told her, she didn’t need to know my life story.

“I see. Well, I’ll take you inside so you can have a look,” she said quietly, unlocking the broken gate (I wasn’t sure why she bothered) and leading me into the complex.

“The rent does include utilities. As well as a parking spot, a trash bin as well as a recycle bin, and whatever furniture the previous owner cared to leave behind,” she told me as we walked to the apartment.

“Why did the last owner move out?” I asked, curious.

She hesitated, “He is in jail actually.”

“Oh, I nodded, taking in the location of the apartment. It was sandwiched between two other ones on the bottom floor. All I could think of was how noisy it was going to be between two walls and a ceiling of clamoring. I was getting a headache just thinking about it.

***

The second place was a house on the bad side of town my cabbie had warned me about directly next to a railroad track. The man who showed me around didn’t bother asking about Torrie, just accepted her presence.

By the end of the tour I knew I would never stay at that house even if it was my only option.

The third place was on the opposite side of town, not rich, but definitely not the worst (or bordering the worst) part of town. It was a little place for rent, about 2,500 square feet on a ¼ acre lot with a rundown filthy pool in the back and an elderly owner who told me she’d had her son at age 17 and said she was more than happy to give me the first month free (granted I would still have to pay the last month’s rent up front).

“That would be wonderful Mrs. Engleton,” I thanked her sincerely.

“Edna, please. And it’s Miss. I was a single mother myself and have been all my life,” she reminded me.

“We’ll take it, Edna. I’ll fix it up and take good care of it as soon as I have a job,” I promised.

“Sounds wonderful dear. We single mothers have to stick together you know,” she winked at me before she pulled out the paperwork for me to sign.

She did give me a funny look when I handed her the last month’s rent in cash, but she said nothing, just asked if she could hold Torrie.

“Of course. Feel free to,” I nodded, lifting Torrie out of her carrier.

“Now look at you. You know you’re lucky to have her for a mother. She’s taking good care of you. You’re happy, healthy, and one of the sweetest babies I’ve seen in a very long time,” she told Torrie. I just smiled, blushing a little.

“She keeps me in check more than anything,” I said truthfully. I would probably be the same old rebellious me if it hadn’t been for Torrie. I would be on the warpath still, heading for jail. I saw that now. 20/20 hindsight.