Page 30 of Pieces of Ash
The man on the other side of the phone gasps. Whoever he is, he knows who I am.
“Gus. Gus, wake up. Wake up, babe. It’s Ashley. Ashley’s on the phone!”
“Wh-what? Ash? Where?”
“Here. Here she is.”
A moment later, my Gus is speaking to me. “Ash? Lil’ Ash? You there, honey?”
“I’m at the Charlotte ferry stop,” I say. “Come and get me?”
“You’re…? Wait! You’re here? Oh, my god! Yes! Stay there, honey! Stay there. I’m on my way!” Gus’s voice is far away when he says, “Talk to her for a minute. I gotta get dressed.”
“Ash? Ash, it’s Jock, Gus’s partner. He’s on his way.”
I’ll be there. I’ll be there for you.
For the third or fourth time tonight, tears prick my eyes. “I have to go.”
“Stay put. We’re coming. We’ll be there in a few minutes. And Ashley? You’re welcome here.”
I clench my jaw to hold in a grateful sob, nodding my head even though he can’t see it. I pull the phone from my cheek and press the End button. Before I can delete the phone call, the ticket seller plucks it from my fingers.
“All set? Boyfriend on his way?”
“Y-yeah,” I manage with a small sniffle. “Thank you.”
“Want me to wait with ya?”
I look around the empty parking lot, quiet except for the buzz of bugs dive-bombing the ticket booth’s light and the footstepsapproaching us as the captain and crew of the small ferry pass by.
“Night, Maude.”
“Night, boys. See ya tomorrow.”
“’Nother day in paradise,” one of them jokes, his eyes lingering on me for an extra second as he walks by, heading for a group of four cars in the corner of the lot.
“N-no,” I whisper, feeling uncertain about my surroundings, but also knowing instinctively that I need to be as inconspicuous as possible during my travels. At this point, I’ve drawn the attention of the woman next to me on the train, the conductor, the taxi driver, the ferry crew, and the ticket seller. I’m not doing a very good job of flying below the radar.
“No, thank you, ma’am,” I say, pulling on the brim of my hat again. “He’s on his way. I’ll be okay.”
She exhales a puff of smoke and clears her throat. “Sure. Take care of yourself, now.”
“Thank you for letting me use your phone.”
She turns and heads toward the last remaining car in the corner of the parking lot, then suddenly stops in her tracks and pivots around, the gravel squishing under her white canvas tennis shoes.
“Tigín! Tig!”
My heart drops, and my stomach flip-flops. For a second, I’m grateful I haven’t eaten anything since lunch, or it might have gurgled up and splashed onto her tennies.
Stay calm, Ashley. Stay calm.
I look up at the woman. “Huh?”
“That’s who ya look like!” she exclaims, taking a step toward me as she scans my face. “Spitting image.”
I furrow my brow like I have no idea what she’s talking about. “I don’t?—”
