Page 26 of And Still Her Voice
Later, I took my place at the piano. There were already a few patrons seated at tables waiting to be entertained.
Livid, Dilbert’s nostrils flared like a racehorse. “Where’ve you been?”
“None of your business. You don’t own me.”
I stood my ground as he walked up and slammed the keyboard cover, just missing my fingers. The customers hushed. He glared at me as I opened the lid to play. As he stormed off, I knew I’d have to face the consequences.
After the last call, all of the other workers finished their clean-up and said goodbye. DeeDee hung up her apron and approached me. “I’m headed over to a party on the next block. Don’t stay here by yourself. Join me.”
“As soon as I’m done, I’m out of here.”
I finished the last song just as Dilbert approached and grabbed my tip jar.
“No. You can’t do that!” I yelled.
He laughed. “This is my place. I can do whatever I want, and whoever I want.”
“Let us go!” Grandma yelled as he grabbed my wrist, twisting it around my back, throwing me face first into the piano. Withmy free arm, I reached into my boot and whipped out my knife, slashing him in the leg.
“What the fuck!” He tried to grab my knife.
We struggled. My backside created a strange cacophony on the piano and then finally he backed away with a limp.
“Psycho bitch. You’re fired,” he yelled, massaging his leg. “Get out!”
I held the knife as I backed away and turned to take the creaky stairs two at a time.
“Anna, no! Let’s get out of here!”
Of course, I should’ve run away when I had the chance, but I wasn’t thinking straight and I couldn’t leave without my guitar. As I gathered the few items I owned, I heard footsteps on the stairs. My heart pounded.
“Oh, Anna, he’s coming!” she screamed in brown, the taste of bile.
Bursting into the room, he held a gun. I held up my knife, David to Goliath. Panicking, with my free hand, I grabbed the back of a chair putting it in between us, like a lion tamer. He jerked the chair out of my hand and soon nothing stood in his way. I backed up and fell onto the small bed.
“That’s right,” he said.
“If you get any closer, I’ll cut off your balls!”
He laughed. “Drop the knife or I’ll shoot!”
I sat up and, as if I were surrendering to him, I dropped my knife. But when he inched closer, I pulled my legs in toward my chest and then, pumped full of adrenaline, I catapulted them straight into his gut. He went flying backward, tripping over the chair, hitting the ground with a thud and releasing the gun that landed across the room. We both scrambled to get it, but he reached it before I could, my hand over his grasping tightly. As he pulled, I couldn’t hang on to it and let go. His hand snapped back, the gun flashing the instant before any sound. I gasped,suppressing a scream. He went limp in front of me, blood seeping from a hole in his neck. I scooted away, looking toward the door to make sure no one was coming. He lay there, not breathing, eyes stuck open, right hand still gripping his gun. I wanted to check his pulse to make sure he was dead, but I obviously couldn’t press on his neck like I’d seen them do in the movies. As I reached over to move the gun in order to check the pulse on his right wrist, Grandma shouted. “He’s dead! Don’t touch anything! Darling, it will look like suicide. No one will ever know.”
Oh my God! I gathered my things, careful not to step in the blood seeping into the floorboards. “Don’t forget your tip, darling.” I squatted down, rummaged through his pockets and then stepped over his body to leave. I remembered the lyrics to “I Want to Be Evil,”but I forgot all about grabbing my Bowie knife. Just before exiting the room, I reached into my pocket to pull out a packet of matches,Steinway Caféengraved in gold, craving the smell of sulfur.
I struck the match and inhaled, remembering how Dad first shot the rattlesnake, then as overkill, he took out his knife and chopped off the head and tail. He lobbed the head into the bushes, and then tossed me the rattle. “For your musical pleasure, Phoebe.”
CHAPTER 11
Asphalt & Patchouli
The fog shrouded the streetlamps, wrapping around them like a damp gray scarf. I stopped underneath to hug myself and then rubbed my chicken-skinned arms to get warm. “Darling, you mustn’t stop now.” My heart raced faster than my feet could carry me and as I looked up the street, I felt a migraine coming head-on. Twin flames of fear and guilt seared into my brain. And because I had two different consciousnesses, the fires doubled in size, blue, white, red, and yellow, even though Grandma didn’t seem worried.
“It was self-defense, darling,” she said.
Shards of glass zigzagged across my eyes. My period would be here soon with the debilitating cramps. I hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as times when everything went black. I needed to hurry and find a place to crash before I doubled over like a heap of trash.
I trembled at the thought of Dilbert Moss and hoped he wouldn’t be discovered until at least the morning. DeeDee would probably be out all night again. So far, I didn’t see anyone following me.
