Not Far Enough

I sat down next to the elderly man on the subway as it lurched forward, headed for home, as I do every day after work. Today is Monday, which means Mr. Yates is on too. He has always wanted to tell me about his late wife, about how they met, and why he rides this train every Monday at the same time and sits in the same seat. He never told me before because he wanted to wait for today.

“It was 1957,” he started, “September 23rd; I had just turned 19 a month before. I sat down on this train and just as the doors started to close a short, blonde-haired girl, about 17, slid through just in the nick of time; I didn’t think she was going to make it on,” he stopped and looked down at his hands with a smirk on his face. “Molly was the love of my life as soon as I set eyes on her. The train started off with a bit of a jerk, and Molly fell right onto my lap; that girl stood up so fast, I thought she got whiplash! She was very apologetic, but I offered her the seat next to mine,” He looked over at me and winked, “of course, she took it.”

“Do you think she felt the same about you? When she saw you, I mean?” I countered.

“Oh,” he focused on my light brown eyes and smiled, “she absolutely did; I could see it written all over her when she sat down next to me. Molly started to blush almost immediately when I asked her how her day was going; she could see that I was genuinely interested. We went straight past both of our stops because we were talking for so long.”

I watched Mr. Yates as I continued to listen to his story. I knew he and Molly had gotten married a year or so after they met, but weren’t able to have children, so they volunteered at the local YMCA to, in a way, supplement for what they couldn’t have. He had told me a couple of other stories about their life together over the past three months that I’ve been in New York and riding this subway, but I only typically only saw him on Monday’s.

“Tell me more about you, sweetheart, why did you move here?” Mr. Yates asked when he noticed that I had started to drift off, thinking and feeling someone’s eyes on me.

“Well, without getting into all of the details, I just needed to get away from Nevada,” I looked down and mumbled, “I needed to get away from someone.”

“Did he hurt you?” Mr. Yates stared at me intently.

I wasn’t sure if he had heard that last part or not; he did. I had kind of wanted him to hear it, but in another way, I didn’t want to elaborate about what happened back home.

My apartment is the next stop so I try to keep my response as short as I can with very little explanation, “Yes, but he can’t find me here,” at least, I hope not. “I got out and I’m on my way to being okay now. I just have to keep my head up and hope he doesn’t find me.”

Mr. Yates looks at me with sorrow and worry in his eyes, “I truly hope he does not either, Becca. Get home safe.”

I stand and nod my head, “You too, Henry.” I smiled and exited the subway.

~

I turned the corner of my street and looked back to see the subway speed off down the tracks. Henry’s stop is next, as he told me several times before that his stop is right after mine. I kept walking down the sidewalk in the darkness, with only one flickering streetlight giving me enough light to fumble my keys to find the one to my apartment.

Approaching the main door to my building, which is always unlocked, I felt like I was still being watched; just like I felt on the subway. I took a peek over my shoulder but couldn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary, per se. It was just a few people walking up and down the street looking for their next place to sleep; there were a lot of homeless people on this side of town.

“Finally,” I whispered to myself, flipping to the right key. I had already made it inside the building and up the stairs to my door. The corridor was empty, though the feeling in my stomach was unsettling. I slid the key into the lock and start to turn it when I hear a loud thud behind me. I jumped and turned around to find nothing there; it must have been someone in their apartment.

I hurried through my door and immediately locked it behind me. I threw my keys on the table and went straight for the fridge for a beer. As I took a swig and rounded the corner to the living room to flip the TV on, I saw it, laying right on top of my run-down coffee table. A single black rose.

He had found me.

As I turned around to run for my cell phone, there he stood. I dropped the bottle of beer that was in my hand and gasped at the sight of his tall figure standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“Hey, sugar,” Trey remarks with a wink.

I grimace. “How did you know where I was?”

“Well, it only took me three long, long months, baby.”

“Not long enough,” I counter.

“Listen,” Trey says with anger in his voice. “It has been a long time without you, baby. It feels like I’ve been all over this country looking for you, and here you finally are, Rebecca.”

I can’t believe this is happening. I spent my entire savings to move to a place that I never thought he’d look for me, yet here he is.

“Just please get out, Trey. I never asked for this!”

“You didn’t have to. I wanted to give you everything, but then you betrayed me and left. You came here, the state I hate the most. You know what happened to me when I was here,” Trey looked kind of hurt, but the anger overshadowed everything else.

“I came here because I didn’t want you to find me,” I said, scared.

“Well,” Trey shook his head, “I found you and I’ll continue to find you, so that’s enough running because I’m tired of following you around all over New York.”

He’s the one that’s been watching me; I knew it. I try to defend myself by picking up a shard of glass from the broken beer bottle at my feet. I hold a piece toward him, “just leave me alone Trey. Get out!”

Trey laughs and all I see is darkness.

~

I wake up to find myself duck taped down to one of my two kitchen chairs; Trey sitting opposite me in the other chair, smiling.

“What gives you the audacity to threaten me with a piece of glass smaller than the size of my hand? It wouldn’t even make me bleed, baby.” Trey brushes my hair away, wrapping it behind my ear and slaps me right across the face.

The stinging sensation is harsh. I squeeze my eyes shut and prepare for another blow, but there isn’t one, so I open my eyes and look up at Trey pacing the room as my tears fall. He’s tall, has brown hair and bright blue eyes; when I met him for the first time seven months ago, I thought that it was love at first sight for us too, just like with Henry and Molly. For a while it was really good, but then Trey started acting different. Possessive. Scary. That’s when he decided to hit me for the first time and tie me up. Fortunately, I was able to get away from him, file a restraining order, and run to New York. The last place I knew he would go.

I continue to cry, “please just let me go, Trey. Please!”

“Uh, no, not happening. I have big plans for you and I, Becca. I had them before, but you seemed to think you could leave me instead,” Trey stood and picked up the knife sitting on the table next to us.

I shouted, “Please, Trey, no! Please don’t!” Was he about to cut me? Am I going to die?

Just as he started to move towards me, my apartment door busted open. Behind it stood two large men with “Yates Empire” written on the top left of their dark gray t-shirts. Trey jolted upright and stumbled backwards causing him to fall onto the ground. I turned around to see Trey lying on the kitchen floor looking like a scared little puppy with his tail tucked between his legs and the knife lying away from him. He must have dropped it. Walking into the kitchen, the blonde-haired man flipped out a knife from his pocket and cut me loose from the chair, allowing the black haired one to walk straight to Trey, knocking him out cold.

“Get her out of here, Caleb,” the dark-haired man stood, turning to us.

Caleb nodded and grabbed my arm, leading me out of the apartment building. As we got out onto the street, there stood Mr. Yates.

“Hen…” I stammered, crying, “Mr. Yates, what’s going on?” I questioned, as Caleb released his grip on me.

“I’ve been keeping a closer eye on you as of late, Rebecca. Something wasn’t sitting right, and I could see it on you here recently, as well. So, after getting off the subway, I called a couple of my men and drove over here. We waited to make sure things were okay, then just as we were about to leave, we heard you screaming. I know the other people here don’t care about what’s going on around them; most of the time they are so strung out on drugs, they don’t even notice anything.”

“Who are you?” I questioned him.

“In due time, sweetheart. Right now, I just want to get you out of here. This part of town isn’t good enough for you,” Mr. Yates waved his arm toward two black Cadillacs sitting across the street.

“What about…” I hear a gun shot and jump, looking up towards my apartment’s window.

“He can’t hurt you anymore. Come now dear,” Mr. Yates smiles and I walk with him to his vehicle, as Caleb goes back toward my apartment.