Page 5 of Vandal Unbound

An unknown number. Yeah, I barely have a minute for people I actually know and like. But in my drunken attempt to swipe it off, I answer it.

“Fuck,” I mutter, tugging it to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Can you help me?” My whole body goes still at the timid, shaky voice of a little girl. There’s a fear wrapped up in it that almost echoes my own.

“You got the wrong number, kid.” But I sit up anyway and put my drink down on the small table next to the bed.

There’s a small sob. “I couldn’t see the number good without my glasses. I want Annie.”

Hang up, V.

I even take the phone away from my ear, but then…

“Who’s Annie?”

“Momma’s friend. Is she there?”

I look around my empty room, somehow wishing I could pull the mystery woman out of my closet for her. Her breath catches, followed by another sob.

I know what it feels like to be that scared.

“She’s not. What’s your name, kid?”

“Elsie.” A loud hammering cracks through the line, and there is a raised male voice. I can’t hear what he’s shouting. She gasps. “He won’t go away.”

A woman’s voice, scared but furious, bursts through the line. “I said get away from my door or I’m calling the police.”

There’s the waver of tears inhervoice too. The sound of whatever violence is happening to the two of them makes my stomach heave. I’m not at all certain that I’m not gonna puke. I should get to the bathroom or something but can’t move as my world spins.

It must be something I’ve drunk. Or the volume of pills I’ve taken. It can’t be the sound of raised voices… can it?

Elsie sobs quietly. “What do we do?”

Hang up, Van.

I don’t know why I feel the need to remind myself that’s even an option.

I swing my legs off the bed before I have time to overthink why I’m considering doing this.

“Where are you right now?” I ask.

“In the kitchen,” she whispers.

I grab my keys off the desk and tuck my weapon down the back of my jeans. Getting in any vehicle in the state I’m in is a terrible idea. It’s illegal. I’m not cleared to drive. I get pulled over by the sheriff, and I’m going to jail for a while because I’m sure my breath would torch a breathalyzer right now.

Layer in being over every drug limit there is and that would be the nail in my coffin.

But also knowing I haven’t been out since that night nearly a month ago, since the club brought my motorcycle back here and fixed it up for me, is another good reason not to go. My blurred vision is fucked, I have chronic lack of depth perception, and my hands shake. But I still find myself saying, “Good girl. You stay there, or even better, go run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. What’s your address?”

She tells me enough of an address and description that I recognize the small apartment building about ten minutes away.

“My name’s Vandal. What’s your mom’s name?”

“Daisy.”

I think about how I’m going to be able to let Elsie know it’s me when I arrive. “What’s your favorite teddy or doll called?” I stumble out of my room and head toward the emergency exit.

“Sir Bearington Boo Boo Bear.”