Disappeared

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

There was a dull ache in her head and belly that throbbed with every beat of her heart. Sarah opened her eyes just enough so that she could see. She’d had more than enough experience in dealing with hangovers lately than to just open her eyes and risk bright light stabbing into them. But there was no bright light, only dimness that didn’t hurt her eyes at all. She propped herself up on her arms and looked around. She was in a small room that reminded her of a walk-in closet, except that there were no shelves to put things on or bars to hang things on or carpeting to walk on. The floor was hardwood. The walls looked like the same kind of hardwood. There were no windows, but there was a solid wooden door on the far wall. The only light came from a weak fluorescent curlicue in a ceiling socket. A pull string dangled down from it. She was lying on a sleeping bag. Her clothes and shoes were gone, but she was still wearing her bra and panties. She felt sick and weak. Her hair was a tangled mess that smelled as badly as the rest of her did. There was a plastic water bottle sitting on the floor near the sleeping bag, and it reminded her how thirsty she was. She picked it up, twisted open the cap, and drank deeply. The water was room temperature, but it was water, and that was all that mattered. She drank the bottle dry, recapped it, and set it aside. That done, she sat up on the sleeping bag and combed her hair back with her fingers, struggling with the snarls and tangles it had fallen into. She didn’t remember too much about what had gone on the night before. There had been lots of drinks, a couple of gropes from anonymous men hoping she was as drunk as she appeared to be, long, staggering walks from one cheap dive to another, and then heaving it all up in the alley. There had been a big man who beat up a small man, and a van, and…at that point her fogged-over and vague memories quit completely.

It probably wasn’t as important to remember where she’d been before as it was to find out where she was now. She remembered the big man. She recalled his size and strength and his deep, gravelly voice very clearly, even if she couldn’t picture his face at all. He had said something to her about Mack saying that he could give her what she needed. Had Mack decided to help her after all? Back in college he’d always been a nice guy. Everyone had said so, until she’d gotten sick of hearing it. He’d picked up a hard edge somewhere since she’d seen him last, but maybe underneath it all he was still the same nice guy she’d broken up with, and that was why he’d decided to help her after all. It had to be Mack who was responsible for all this, didn’t it? Otherwise why would that big man in the alleyway mention his name?

A brief wave of nausea washed through her and she groaned. She’d have to get something solid in her stomach soon. But to do that, she’d have to get out of this little room, and to do that she’d have to stand up first.

Standing up proved to be a strenuous exercise fraught with incredible dangers. She managed it only by using the wall for support and practically crawling up it. Once she was on her feet, she leaned against that helpful wall until her head stopped pounding and her stomach quit twisting itself into knots. Then she slowly made her way to the door at the far side of the room, using the wall all the while. She wondered what she would do if she found the door locked, but when she tried the old brass knob it turned easily. She pulled the door open and looked out. She saw a kitchen, small but well laid out, with a counter separating it from what looked like a living room beyond it. Weak sunlight was coming in through the windows, and she could see trees and an overcast gray sky. She listened, but she couldn’t hear anyone else in the place. Seeing the kitchen gave her hope that there might be food stashed away in the old refrigerator or one of the cabinets, but she was suddenly struck with the need to find a bathroom, and soon. She tottered unsteadily out of the little room to look for one. She found it at the end of a short hallway, past what looked like two bedrooms. When she came back out, she took a moment to look into each of the bedrooms. They were about the same size. The floors were hardwood, with some old oval carpets next to each of the beds. The walls were dark wood, with some framed prints hanging on the walls to break up the monotony with small splashes of color. The furniture in each bedroom was similar: A single bed, a dresser, a chest of drawers, a couple of plain wooden chairs. They were similar, but not identical, and nothing in either of the bedrooms matched anything else, as if someone had bought the furniture second-hand, and at different times. In one of the bedrooms, the bed was neatly made, and it seemed like that room hadn’t been occupied for a while. The bed in the other room wasn’t made up at all, and there was a small pile of clothing on one of the chairs. So there was somebody living here after all. Sarah thought about going into the room to get some idea who it might be, but she was still hungry and that could always wait until later.

There was a lot of canned food in the cupboards, plus some dry cereal in boxes and a container of instant oatmeal. All of the labels were generic brands. She went to the refrigerator next, hoping to find something that wouldn’t require cooking. It was a massive old appliance, squat and white. When she opened it, she saw that it had a small freezer compartment up at the top, and wire shelving. There was a half-gallon of low-fat milk, half empty, some lunchmeat in clear plastic containers, what looked like leftovers in more clear plastic containers, and several rows of yogurt containers. She picked one out and shut the refrigerator. She needed to get something on her stomach, and this was probably bland enough not to upset it. She found the tableware in a drawer and noticed that the knives, forks and spoons didn’t all match each other either and all seemed to be cheaply made. Well, a spoon was a spoon, and she certainly wasn’t going to eat with her fingers.

There were thin peach slices mixed in with the creamy yogurt. As she ate, Sarah walked slowly around the kitchen and living room area. The place looked solidly and plainly built. She peered through each window as she passed it, but didn’t see any other houses, or even any other buildings, only pine trees. The kitchen had a small wooden table with four matching chairs, but the living room was as eclectically furnished as the rest of this place, with a long couch, a couple of armchairs, a heavy, battered wooden coffee table marked with old water rings, and a pair of mismatched bookshelves stocked with old and worn paperbacks. She was about to take a closer look at the titles when the door to the outside swung open and a woman came in. She was only a couple of inches taller than Sarah. Her dark hair was wet, and she wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, cutoff jeans and flip-flops. There was a damp light blue towel slung over her shoulder. She froze for a moment when she saw Sarah standing there, and then she frowned. She had a face more attractive than pretty, with a squarish jaw, a wide mouth, expressive dark eyes just the slightest bit too close together and heavy dark brows.

“What the f**k do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as she slammed the door shut behind her.

“What?” Sarah asked. “I woke up here, and I was hungry. Isn’t this Mack’s place?”

“Yes, it’s Mack’s place all right,” the woman nodded as she went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to check on the contents. “This is Mack’s house, and it’s full of Mack’s furniture and appliances and books and rugs. But the food here is mine. I bought it. I don’t appreciate you helping yourself. You should have asked first.” She shut the refrigerator and turned to glare at Sarah, folding her arms.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. She looked down at the empty cup, then back up at the woman.

”I didn’t know.”

The other woman seemed to relent a little. “Next time, ask first,” she said gruffly.

“I will,” Sarah nodded. “But…I’m confused. This is Mack’s place, right? So what are you doing here? Are the two of you…” she let her words trail off. It would have been silly of her to expect Mack to remain celibate, but she couldn’t believe that he would send her to the same place as his girlfriend.

“No, we’re not,” the woman replied curtly. “Not that it’s any of your f*****g business. We’re friends, is all. I needed a place to stay for a while, and he said I could stay here.”

“Where are we?” Sarah asked.

“Out in the ass end of nowhere, right up the road from no place,” the woman snapped. She didn’t seem at all happy that Sarah was here. “You want some coffee? You could probably use some, from the looks of you.”

Sarah looked down at herself. “Uh…what happened to my clothes?” she asked. She felt embarrassed, more from the doughy shape of her body than the fact that all she had on were her ill-fitting bra and panties.

“They need to be laundered,” the woman replied as she stalked into the kitchen. She didn’t offer anything more, and Sarah suddenly felt angry.

“And my shoes?” Sarah persisted.

“You lost one of them somewhere, and you’d puked on the other,” the woman replied.

“Look,” Sarah said as she followed the woman into the kitchen. “I didn’t ask to be brought here. I don’t even know how I got here, or where here is. If you’ve got a problem with it, why don’t you take it up with Mack?”

The woman had her back to Sarah as she filled and started the old coffeemaker sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator. She didn’t reply until the coffee started to brew, and then she turned to face Sarah. She looked angry.

“Yeah, I got a problem with it, you nasty little b***h,” she spat. “I know who you are, and what you are, and what you did to Mack. I know you went to him for help, like you hadn’t f****d him over at all, and I know that he gave you help. Personally, I think he should have kicked you out and left you to live or die on your own. After what you did, that’s how I’d have handled it. But Mack’s got a thing for stray cats, I guess, so here you are. I don’t really have anything to say about it, and I’ll have to put up with it if Mack asks me to, but I sure as s**t don’t have to like it, or even pretend that I like you.”

Sarah listened, stunned and open-mouthed, to the woman’s tirade. It was clear that Mack had told her quite a bit about his past. She couldn’t blame the woman for feeling the way she did, but it was going to be very difficult staying here with her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I was a total b***h to Mack. It was wrong. It was worse than wrong; it was probably the worst mistake I ever made in my life. I’d take it all back if I could, but I can’t.”

“Words,” the woman sniffed as she waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t waste them on me. I’m not listening.”

Sarah’s anger flared. “Well, who the f**k are you, and what the f**k are you doing here?” she demanded. “Didn’t you just say that you had to go to Mack for help too?”

The woman advanced on Sarah, dark eyes blazing. She was only an inch or two taller, but Sarah shrank back from her fearfully.

“No, I didn’t, you b***h,” the woman hissed. “I didn’t ask Mack for anything! He knew I needed some help, and he offered it.”

“Sorry!” Sarah held up her hands as if to ward off a blow. “I didn’t know! Geez, would you let up on me a little? I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, or who you are.”

“You can call me Belinda,” the woman said. She turned away and went back to the coffee maker. “I already know your name. Just stay out of my way and you should be okay.”