Page 3 of Grease's Guide

The noise is loud. A big bang that seems to bounce off the walls as soon as I walk through the door. Because of the quiet and private life I’ve lived, I haven't had a panic attack in the last couple of years, but this one noise… This loud bang brings the past all back.

“Lyra, I told you it wasn't smart to report it. You know who his father is, right?” my best friend and fellow teacher, Cara, says, helping me throw clothes into a bag as fast as possible.

“I knew he was the kingpin, but Cara, I couldn't stand by when he was coming in with more bruises, more black eyes, more broken bones.” I seethe at the turn my life has taken in the past three days.

“I get that, and I don't blame you, I just. I can't believe this is happening. It's like an old movie, fake and unrealistic. What am I supposed to tell people when they ask where you went? Oh, she's just running from the mob?”

“You tell them nothing. From this point on, you barely knew me. Never bring up my name again. Just… stay safe.” Withthose parting words, I grab the backpack, squeeze her as tightly as possible into a hug, and rush out of the house. As I reach my car, I look back at her. “Leave the house as quickly as you can. Don't ever come back. I won't be. If you can, just please…” I pause at the first falter in my voice at the biggest favor I'm about to ask for.

“I’ll watch over your Mama, Lyra. I promise nothing will happen to her on my watch.”

At her words, I nod, sucking back the tears in my eyes, and fall into the driver's seat of my car. I back out of my driveway and head out of town, not knowing where I'm going, just knowing I can no longer stay here if I want to live. I don't regret it, though.

Yes, I knew the leader of the Irish Mafia in the area was the father abusing my third-grade student. Did that stop me from turning him in? Reporting him over and over? Even as the threats rolled in? Hell no. I couldn't sit by and watch that scared little boy flinch at another sound. It killed something inside me every time.

I shake off those feelings now. After the attack in my office barely two hours ago, an attack I barely escaped, I knew my time was up. They had come to silence me for good. I was going to die.

I know I have to leave, and I wipe the tears off my cheek as I see the Exiting Mississippi sign. As I pass it, though, I hear a screech of tires before loud banging. I’m being freaking shot at. What the hell? How will I escape this time?

“Fuck! Becky? Answer me, Dammit!” I hear as I feel a soft tap on my cheek.

“Please, come back. Please come back to me.” The tortured voice is so familiar, so devastated. I want to reach out and touch him to reassure him, but the darkness is hard to shake. It's clawing at my throat, wanting to pull me back to that time.

“Fuck this! I’m taking you to Grim. I don't care if he knocks you the fuck out. Anything is better than watching you in this pain. Fuck! Becky! Tootsie, please.” I crinkle my brows.

Tootsie? Why is that so familiar? There's a niggle in my brain. Tootsie? Toots? That's it, Toots! Only one person calls me Toots, but they’ve never spoken the word Tootsie before. Never with the soft caress, the almost loving touch of those words on his lips. And right now, he sounds just that… loving.

That snaps me out of the darkness. I gasp, taking a deep breath as I look at my surroundings. I hadn't even realized Grease had picked me up, but now we are marching fast down the halls toward Grim’s medical room.

“Wait, wait, wait. Put me down, Grease,” I say sternly, pushing on his chest and kicking my legs. I absolutely refuse to acknowledge the hard chest just underneath my palms.

“Put you down? Are you crazy? You were almost catatonic! You're getting checked out,” he declares.

“Put. Me. Down,” I state in the strongest voice I can muster. I know he is struggling with giving me what he wants to take care of me, but also not wanting to force me. Finally, my consent wins out. He clenches his jaw, but slowly lowers me to the ground.

“Thank you so much for your concern, but I just need some rest. I was given the rest of the day off, and frankly, I want to go home and sleep,” I tell him, not meeting his eye.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I don't give him a chance to respond. I walk away quickly and make my exit.

Yeah, don't stay in one place too long, don't make any personal connections… don't fall in love. I’ve failed on every account. I just hope it doesn't cost me my life.

Chapter Three

Tizzy (Becky's Mom)

At this exact same moment… in a Mama’s southern kitchen not too far away:

“Sing it louder, June! Back her up, Johnny!” I yell out into the kitchen as I belt out Ring of Fire.

I shake and shimmy, stirring a pot of homemade sausage gravy, then bending and shaking my tush as I look in the oven, checking my buttermilk biscuits.

“Rise and shine, babies. Mamas gettin’ hunnnngry!”

It’s just getting to the good part when I hear a knock at the door.

“Don't do this to me, lord! I need to finish my dancing before I lose the rhythm.” Yes, I am in a kitchen by myself. Yes, I might be talking to myself, but who else am I supposed to converse with? I've been so lonely since my daughter left town a few years back.

“Oh, what if that's her coming back home?” Even as I get my hopes up, I know it's a lost cause. She left town for a very good reason, one that's kept her away for so long that I feel like I'm dying inside. Even as I make my way to the door, I know it ain't her. No baby girl of mine is going to knock on my door. Mama’sdoor is always open for her. I check through the peephole and see two men with dark, slicked-back hair, but not in that oily way. No, these guys are fineeee!!!

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