Instinctive nature

         Even as the bus pulled away from the curb, I knew my problems weren’t over.  I would have to start job hunting tomorrow.  It won’t be easy, because of the holidays, but Jamie depended on half of the rent, so it has to be done.  I sighed, blowing ice crystals onto the window and sat back in the seat, watching the covered city passed by.           

         Earlier that afternoon, Ashira and Edwina from the shoe department decided they wanted to chat and were amuse themselves over the purse display I had just finished building.  While changing purse displays on the wall, I over heard Ashira gasp, “Oh my! Hanna, you look awful in that dress.” She was playing with one of the bags and sneered at me as I dropped two bags. They plunked to the floor making Edwina squeal with delighted from the sound it made.  Ashira hushed her with a glare. 

         “What's wrong with it?” I asked snatching the purses from the floor and tossing one on the shelf.  Normally, I didn’t feel the need to talk to Ashira, but lately she had made a habit to talk behind my back if I choose to ignore her.  So to please her so I wasn’t the newest gossip in the store, I gave into her baiting.
         “Did you get it from Goodwill?”

         “No, did you get your shoes from Salvation Army?” I smiled back.  She frowned and picked up a purse from the display, flipped the pocket up and down. Her face twisted sourly when she noticed Edwina’s hand inching toward the purses to copy her. Swiftly, she reached out and slapped Edwina’s hand.  Satisfied by having a little control over someone, she turned her attention back to me.
         “Hanna? I thought it was a requirement to have a sense of style to work here. I don’t agree with your choice of style.”

          “Since when do I need your approval, Ashira?” I sighed and knelt down to put the last of the purses on a bottom shelf. Even though I had learned to take Ashira’s remarks and ignore them, it was still discouraging to discover that my clothing was still struggling to impress them with.  I had searched the mall over but couldn’t afford the dresses they felt was necessary to wear.  Though, I did find a dress that I had liked within my budget.  It was a mint color, which looks nice with my long reddish hair and green eyes.  It was on the clearance rack, though a reasonable price wasn’t something to argue with.  It came with an extra discount since the ribbon was missing around the waist and after rummaging though my closet for an hour, I had found a black belt and yellow cardigan that went perfect with it.  No, it might not be in the same price range as Ashira’s dresses, but it looked the same. 
         
          “I am your superior,” She said, offended by my remark, “What I say should matter to you…” Just as Ashira started ranting, Edwina became frantic that she didn’t have a purse and knocked over the display while trying to stretch around Ashira.  The bright pink bags tumbled to the floor in loud plops as the heels of the manager made their way to the bag department.

          “Miss Gail?” A loud and harsh voice said from behind me.  It appeared that Ms. Stankiewich, or what I like to call her, ‘Ms. Shanky-witch’, had been prowling the walkways like a vulture. “I see you have not done what I have told you to do.” She said pointing her manicured fingers toward the pile of purses. Edwina who was gapping in surprise, clutched at the purse, pretending to be invisible.
.          
          “Let me remind you that even though you’ve been working here for two years, it doesn’t mean that you have the liberty to do what you want. Would you like to keep your job?”  Her highly tweezed eye brows pulled together to form a perfect V.  She reminded me of a Disney villain who failed to make it in the movies; “V” for villains I thought smiling to myself until I realized she had orientated her self so that she was staring me down.  She reminded me vaguely of Cruella de Vil with her black and white outfits and hair. 

          “Yes, I would like to keep my job,” I mused, “I was just finishing putting the wall displays together.” Quickly, I grabbed a bag from the bottom shelf and lifted it as innocently as I could while looking up at her. “See?”

         “Well, ladies,” she continued with skepticism, “I am not paying for you to gab. She glared at me with great dislike, “Miss Gail, I see that the walls are done but I specifically told you to put the floor displays together first. Do what I told you to do from the beginning.” Peeved, she turned in her expensive heels and clicked away.

         My day didn’t get much better, I knew Ms. “Skanky-Witch” was just dying to find a reason to fire me and the opportunities kept pilling up.  After mopping the floor from muddy feet, I had to redo it when it started to snow again.  I had to pull gum out of the carpet that Edwina left behind in her surprise and Ms. “Skanky-Witch” picked up on her special shoes.  Then, I had to re-mop the floor again after a child couldn’t hold down his ice cream and vomited.  At six forty five I had to re-do the display for the fifth time since Ashira had ‘accidently’ knocked it down.  She was showing a customer how her pink pumps matched the purses perfectly, and the bags went tumbling to the floor.  Then after Ms. Skanky-witch scolded me for not putting up the display again, she decided that I had a problem with superiors and fired me on the spot.  Edwina was ever so delighted to get my locker.

         The bus lurched to a stop bring me back to reality.  I watched as a little woman with large snow boots tottered into the seat across from me and a man with a black coat lumbered up the stairs.  He was tall and intimidating.  He was wearing a black leather coat, a black hat and heavy work books.  He looked like a man who could break you in half with just a snarl.  He was scary, no, dangerous even to look at. Panic rose to my throat as he walked down the ally looking straight at me.  I couldn’t hold his gaze and looked down at my latte; his black eyes made my hair stand up.  He paused before taking the seat right behind me giving me the chance to move.  My fingers tightened around my purse and latte as I stood and staggered to sit behind the driver, giving me plenty of room to run out the door.  Are all men creeps?  I thought as the dark world zipped by.  It wasn’t the first time that I felt unsafe, and probably not the last either.  Just then, my phone vibrated in my purse.  Ignoring it, I scooted to the edge of the seat and watched the man out of the corner of my eye.

***

 


          Nothing looks good. I was waiting in line a coffee shop Dwayne decided to meet me after I had called telling him I was fired.  I crossed my arms and sighed.  I had already ruled out the stale pastries, and had moved on to debating the biscotti, when the door chimed bring with it a wintery breeze.  The air bit at my nose and blew my hair back as I watched a couple walk in holding hands. I wish Dwayne and I did that.  He didn’t believe in any form of public displays of affection.  Yet, it would be nice to feel any type of affection from Dwayne.  I listened as the young couple chatted excitedly about the holiday plans as their shopping bags cracked in their arms.  No doubt, gifts for each other, all ready wrapped just waiting to go under a tree somewhere.  It was hard to be overly excited.  Dwayne had told her that he didn’t like giving gifts either.  Basically, Dwayne didn’t like anything about relationships, except for what he wanted to do in the bedroom.  Yes, I was bitter, I had expected more out of a boyfriend, but I didn’t complain.  Christmas was days away and the cheer of the holidays was starting to become contagious.  If only I actually had something to look forward to.  I reached the front of the line and ordered a large decaf latte before joining Dwayne, who was in the middle of a phone conversation.

         "Are you positive that she…," he frowned as the person interrupted him.  He glanced at me and then moved the phone to the side so the other person couldn’t hear him, “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m almost done.  Then we can talk.”  He shook his head in response to the person on the phone. “No, I’m not.  I just want to be sure.”  I smiled and let my eyes wander to the menu.  I was starving but didn’t know what I wanted.  After the ice cream incident at work, I couldn’t choke down anything but chips for lunch. Pumpkin muffins? That sounded good. My stomach grumbled loudly, so I took a big gulp of coffee and just about spewed it everywhere.  Liquid fire seared down my throat as I started to cough franticly. 
“You will meet me afterwards?" he said, glaring at me and shaking his head telling me to be quiet. I’m sorry to interrupt, I thought sourly as I turned away to cough into my hand.  I saw a pile of napkins on the next table and got up to grab them but stopped when he grabbed me by the wrist.

         "We need to talk," he whispered intensely, "Where are you going?" 
“My throat! Napkins!” I croaked as I pointed with one hand at the next table while the other held my throat.  Quickly I grabbed the pile and sank back into my seat.          
"I wish there could be another way…” Dwayne said watching me with no concern, “Tonight?" He nodded, "I told you.  We’re finished.  Yes." He nodded again looking at the bubbles spinning in his cup, "In about five to ten minutes...Thank you."  He snapped the phone shut and frowned.
         "Is everything alright?”  My throat felt raw and hoarse.
         "It’s fine," he snapped. 
         “Wow! No, you definitely have a problem. What’s wrong?"
         "Nothing,” He said with great patience, “We need to talk, Hammy."
         "Clearly,” I sighed.  I hate it when he called me Hammy. I’m not a pig.  Not something you put on the table with a big apple in my mouth, “What did the person on the phone want?"
         “Nothing, just work. It's nothing...” he said quickly, not meeting my gaze, “Hammy? We’ve been dating for what, five months?" 
         "Two," I corrected, “Why?  What’s the matter?”

         "Nothing!” He said, slamming his fists on the table. I jumped in surprise at his out burst.  He didn’t normally loose his patience.  He was one of the calmest guys she knew. "Why can't you get that in your little brain?” He said pointing at her, “I told you, it was nothing."  The room had gone quiet as people watched him sit back in his chair and cross his arms.  “I just feel that our relationship isn’t going anywhere.” He gritted his teeth, “So, I think it's time that we,” he pointed at himself, “need to stop seeing each other’ and then at me, “and move on to other people."  He finished by pointing around the room.  I blinked in disbelief.  Not only did he just break up with me but he was insulting me in the process. 

         “Okay, Dwayne.  You don’t have to use primitive sign language to get your point across.  What is going on?  Did I do something wrong?”  I could feel the tears starting to spring to my eyes, which wasn’t too had to do since my throat was still stinging.  We stared at each other, me in shock and him in anger.  After the day I just went thru, all I wanted to do was cry. Why is he being like this?  I took a sip of the latté to try to distract my self but one traitorous tear slid down my cheek.   
         "I was hoping that we could end on good terms," he mumbled as his anger melted away.
         "End on good terms?  You call this ‘good terms’?" I said through the tears. He took a deep breath, "I can’t date you anymore…you're not..."
         “Not what?" I sniffed.
         "You’re not permanent, Hammy. We don’t have a future together, I’m sorry," he said reaching out to pat me on the arm.

         "What do you mean by that?" I coughed, anger suddenly appearing as quickly as the tears had, "We have a future together.  What are you saying?” My voice raised an octave higher as I tried to make sense of what he was saying, “Wait?  Not a long term girlfriend to you?  What’s going on, Dwayne?  Are you seeing someone else?"  He shook his head and looked down at the table.  "Then, are you gay?”
         “Hey," he yelled slamming his fist on the table again, "I was trying to be tactful here. We are over, there is no more us!” He huffed when he noticed people were watching again and leaned forward to whisper.  “We can still be friends if you want? But I would rather not have to deal with you crying about this."  I glared at him as hatred filled me.  How could I have been so stupid?  I was dating a jerk!  As hard as I could, I kicked him in the shin, hoping it would leave a mark for him to remember me later.
         "Holy crap, Hanna! What did you do that for?" He jumped back in his chair, almost spilling his coffee as he tried to get as far away from me as he could. 
         “Tactful? This is the tackiest thing you’ve done so far.  I don't know why I fooled myself into thinking you cared for me,” I gritted my teeth and stood up.  My throat still hurt and the tears were still running down my face but I had dignity.  I was strong.  He was not going to get away with insulting me today.

         "Hanny, really, knock it off.  It's not about you, it's me."  He said, putting his hands in front of him.  Pathetic, a cop out! Get some guts!
         "Oh, really," I slapped his hands away, anger steaming through my veins as my arms started to shake, "Yes, I see that now.  This is always been about you…what you need, what you want.  I hear you loud and clear.  You never cared about me.  You were just using me…like all the other women in your life; just lifeless shells to play around with!" I angrily tossed my coffee around hoping some would splash down on him. I didn’t care if people were watching.  They could stare all they wanted.  I was going to make him pay.
“You!” I pointed a finger in his face, “You… are not worth my anger... my attention… my time and yet…here I am wasting more time on you!" I shrieked, watching him jump like an idiot as the coffee spewed across the table. 

         "You are not worth wasting my coffee on..." I screamed, annoyed by his bouncing. I grabbed his coffee and dumped it on his head, "but clearly I feel no shame about wasting yours." Kicking out his chair, I ran towards the door as Dwayne sat sputtering swearwords from the coffee shop floor. 
         
         The phone vibrated again, pulling me from my retrieve.  Apparently he was not finished breaking up with me.  I pulled the phone out and saw two text messages but deleted them without reading them.  I was done.  I didn’t want to deal with anything else that day.  First Ashira, then Ms. ‘Shanky-Witch, and now Dwayne; anyone else want to beat me up today?  I looked over my shoulder again, aware that maybe someone did. He was still watching me. I threw my phone back into the purse as we rounded to corner to my stop, and noticed the mace.  Quickly I looked back again at the creepy man and saw he was standing. He's getting off at my stop!  Alarm ran threw me as I grabbed the mace and put my hand in my pocket. I stood up debating whether or not to get off when the man moved closer to me; so close, I could hear him breathing.  My body curved as the bus came to a halt, gravity pulling me towards the darkness.

***

 


         The cold breeze on my cheeks made me even more aware of the difference there was between the safe bus and the terrifying walk home. I pushed my legs down the steps and glanced back at the bus driver.  His face showed the same intense alarm my body was exhibiting but he didn’t say anything as the man followed me off the bus.

         I tightened my grip on the mace and pulled it out of my pocket, as I walked through someone’s yard, not waiting for the man to attack me. I gripped it in my cold fingers as I clutched my purse and now cold latte.  A glowing purple mist filled the night air, as people turned on their Christmas lights to light my way home.  The lights weren’t as comforting as I wanted them to be but at least it wasn’t pitched black.  I trudged down the sidewalk, listening over to the crunch of the ice, for the sounds of another set of foot steps; though, I couldn’t hear anything over my pounding heart. 

         Impatienly, I threw my head back to see if anyone was behind me and I noticed that he was there, silently stalking me.  I didn’t have far to go. I was very close to home, only a few houses down.  I listened again trying to pick up any sound as I pushed myself to go faster.  There!  I could hear the dull thud of his boots beating down on the side walk, and the sharp cracks of the ice under his weight.  He was running. His steps getting closer.  Panic coursed through me as I ran for it, throwing the cup of coffee behind me.  The liquid splattered to the ground as the cup landed with a hollow pop.  His was gaining on me; I could hear his breathing along with louder footsteps.  I’m almost there!  I just have to keep running!  I pushed myself as fast as I could go, sliding across the ice.  The ice was wet from the snow.  I'm almost there!  I can see the yard, the stairs, the door, all covered in snow.  I pushed myself to go faster but felt my boot slip from under me and I crashed to the ground, debris from my purse scattering across the sidewalk.

         I scraped my hands in the gravel and ice as I landed.  I could feel the warmth of blood on my palms and the sting of the cuts.  My fingers throbbed as I clawed at the ice, panic driving me to keep moving. He is going to get me! The mace had landed on the ground a foot from my fingers.  I crawled towards it, my knees scraping on the sidewalk, my dress ripping up the side.  I wrapped my shaking fingers around the little bottle and pushed my body up, trying to get my feet under me.  I got up just in time for him to shove me to the ground again, his hand clamping down on my arm and pulling it out of its socket.  I screamed but no one came.  I'm going to die!  I spun to face him and my shoulder sending shocks of pain to my chest.  I have to get away!  I have to survive!  I realized, miraculously, the mace was still in my hand and squeezed it in his face.  A jet of 

         “Ahhhhhh!” He screamed as I twisted my arm.  He didn’t let go but slackened enough for me to pull free and run for it.  I cut across the neighbor’s yard, knocking over trash cans as I went hoping to make enough noise for someone to come investigate.  I looked over my shoulder one last time before tripping up the stairs of the porch.  He was stumbbling around the trash cans, bent over coughing but had managed to somehow, open his bright red eyes.  I felt him watch me as I reached for the door knob, trying to open the door, realizing it was locked.  I shook the handle but it wouldn't budge.  My keys!  I spun around to see my purse lying on the ground, the keys sparkeling from the Christmas lights.  The man eyes followed my glance and he grinned menacingly. Franticily I slammed my frozen fist on the door, hoping someone was home. Just let me in!  As he took a step toward the stairs, the light overhead come on and the door opened behind me.  Jamie stood frowning with her winter coat on and a large black trash bag in her hand.  I shoved past her and slammed the door shut.

         “Hanna, did you forget your key again?” Jamie asked as I quickly turned the deadbolt and threw my back against it.  I looked at her and gulped as the terror tripled in my mind.  The keys were laying on the ground; keys to this very door.  I felt myself starting to hyperventilate as Jamie looked at me, confusion fleeting across her face.
         "Hanna!  What's wrong?"
         “S-s-st…”  I was breathing to fast for words to form.
         “What?”
         “Stalker!” I screamed as the wave of panic washed over me, He is going to kill me!  He had the keys to the house.  He is going to get me!
         “Travis!” Jamie yelled up the stairs, panic in her eyes, “Get down here!”

***