539

I could never have expected what came out.

“Don’t call the police.”

She said it with quiet calm, her head still rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, its dizzying, steady beat unnerving me even further. I couldn’t tell in the darkness, but she looked about nineteen, a few years younger than me, but not a kid anymore. Her hair, when clean, would have been blonde, and her eyes… nope. Still couldn’t bear to look into her eyes. 

Dumfounded by this sudden incredulous command, I gasped, “Why the freaking heck not? Holy crap, look at you!” My face flamed with red, and I felt the sudden, unmistakably anti-heroic feeling rising in my stomach that my dinner did not want to stay nicely settled in my intestine. I laughed, disbelieving, and said aloud, “Twenty minutes ago I was sitting in a movie theater laughing with friends and eating an ice cream cone.” Now suddenly I found myself rescuing a mangled, beaten and filthy rat of a girl out of a dumpster in a dark alley. And she didn’t want me to call the police. “Well, what do you want me to do then? Come on, you need to get to a hospital or something.”

“No, please don’t. I’m doing this for you. Take me anywhere but a hospital.”

To my horror I felt the sudden need to cry. I choked and sputtered, fumbling with my phone and trying to figure out the quickest route to a mental hospital. No service. Well thanks a lot, Google, you’re no help.

“Okay. Where do you live?”

“In California.”

“What?!” Another bomb dropped. “Well where do you want me to take you then, if your house is a plane ride away, and you won’t go to a hospital or to the cops?”

She said nothing, still shaking her head back and forth, back and forth. Her eyes darted wildly around scanning the streets.

“Look, it’s better for us both if you just leave me here. Thanks. I mean, thanks for getting me out of there, but I’m okay here.”

Okay. Now, I’m no hero. If I hadn’t realized this before that moment, I would have certainly realized it then. My knees were knocking, my hands shaking, and I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I had absolutely given up trying to keep my mind from thinking about what was in that dumpster. Every thought and action had been about as cowardly as possible, but this was something else entirely. To abandon that forlorn looking little creature in that dark place, barely breathing and without first hearing her story? Impossible.

“I’m not leaving you here.” I said flatly. “What’s your name?”

“It’s better if you don’t know that too.”

Exasperated, I said, “Well then make one up.”

“Mary.”

“Okay, come on Mary, we’re going back to my place. The car’s around the corner.” Meekly, she followed me down the still deserted street, though I suspect it was only because she didn’t have the energy to protest anymore. I couldn’t believe her attitude. I told myself firmly that her experience had surely clouded her judgment considerably. At the time that was the only explanation that made any sense.