7 minute read
BLUE by Malcolm Glass
BLUE by Malcolm Glass
As she started down the back stairs, she heard Tony coming in the front door. Scuttling down the old wooden steps as quietly and quickly as she could, she cringed at the thought of his searing voice: “Bitch! I need to straighten you out!”
She ran down the alley with the sound of his raging, the sight of his twisted, drunken face hounding her. Focusing on the cars on Markham Street where the alley ended, she ran through puddles, past soggy plastic bags and tin cans. Behind her, the splash and smack of running footsteps made her heart leap. She kept going without looking back, her mouth dry, her pulse pounding. As she headed up the sidewalk of the busy street, she bumped a man’s arm.
“Hey, watch it,” he yelled.
“Sorry,” she said over her shoulder. She stumbled, caught herself and stopped to look back. No one was running after her. She took a deep breath.
A taxi slid up beside her.
“Thank God,” she whispered.
“Need a ride?”
“Yes.” She glanced down the sidewalk. No sight of Tony.
The cab driver got out and opened the door for her. “Thank you,” she said as she slid into the back seat.
“At your service.” He slipped behind the wheel, and they pulled out into the traffic. She had made it. At least for the moment.
“Where to?” he asked.
“Seven hundred Ninth Street.”
“Sure. Get you there in no time.”
They moved out into the traffic.
Leaning back against the worn seat of the cab, she hugged her canvas travel bag and took in some slow breaths. She looked out the window at the people wandering in and out of cafes and bars, brushed back the strands of hair fallen across her face, and sighed.
“You all right, Ma'am?”
“I'm okay.” She tried to smile, but tears filled the corners of her eyes, and she stared at the dark spots they made on the dusty, tan cloth of the bag. Slowly she breathed in, and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve.
“Just out of breath for a minute there,” she said.
The cab lurched and clattered in the thick traffic. He caught her eyes in the rear view mirror. “You’re going to be fine, Miss.” He smiled.
His voice, his eyes seemed so gentle, concerned. I am going to be fine, she thought, and she almost said that, but somehow sensed she didn’t need to. She hadn’t known a man’s kindness in so long. When she had broken her arm in a fall from the tire swing in the front yard, her father had gingerly picked her up and carried her into the house. She would never forget his eyes in that moment, filled with pain, her pain.
He cleared his throat. “Miss, I don’t mean to pry, but you look . . . well, as they say in the old movies, kind of blue.”
She laughed nervously. “I am Blue.”
“I thought maybe.”
“No. I am Blue. That's my name.”
“No stuff.”
“My mom was a hippie, single. The moment I was born, she said, ‘Blue’.”
“Out of the blue, huh?”
“That’s right.” She laughed.
“Like Spirit talking through her,” he said.
“Sort of. She heard this voice in her head.”
“That’s what I mean.”
“Actually, it was his voice.”
“His?”
“Yeah, the strange man who sat beside her through the whole delivery, holding her hand. You know, supporting her, by saying things like, ‘Come on, Brenda, you can do this.’” Blue pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “No one else saw him.”
He gave a thumbs-up. “He was her guardian.”
Blue folded her arms on her bag. “At the moment I popped out, the man said, “Call her ‘Blue’.” They stopped for a red light, and people blurred by in a rush. “Excuse me, did you say, ‘guardian’?”
“I did.” He slowed to let a jay-walker run across the street. “It was probably Gabriel. He’s the guardian angel of children . . . and childbirth.”
“I’ll have to tell her.” Blue looked out the window. Thirteenth flashed by. He had meant it when he said, 'in no time.' He didn't seem to be speeding, but they had hit all the lights and had almost reached their destination. She didn't want this to end.
“Listen,” Blue said.
“I'm listening.”
“What is your name?”
“Frederick.”
“Frederick, I want to know more about angels. You seem to know about them.”
“You could say that. I’ve known a few.” He laughed.
Blue looked hard in the mirror. He seemed to be making a joke, but he sounded serious, too. She scooted up on the seat until she was close to the Plexiglas barrier. “I'm running away,” she said.
He caught her eyes in the mirror and nodded.
“From a mean boyfriend,” she said. “Very mean.”
“Yes,” he said.
“I'm staying with a friend. No one knows.”
Blue dug in her bag, pulled out a notepad and pen, and scribbled. “I want you to have my number, my friend's number. I'd like to talk with you more. About angels. And things like that.”
“I'd be happy to.”
“Promise?” she said.
“Promise.”
They turned onto Ninth. Frederick slowed, then pulled to a stop and turned on the flashers. He went around to her side, took her hand, and helped her out of the car.
He was much taller than she expected. Slim, clean-cut, in black corduroy jeans and an olive Henley shirt, he was strikingly handsome. His thick ebony hair set off his luminous blue eyes.
Blue handed him the piece of paper with Denise’s number. “Keep it safe.”
“Don't worry.” He pulled out his wallet and tucked the paper inside. “I’ll be in
touch.” He held up his wallet, then put it in his pocket. “Right now, let’s get you safe inside.”
At the door, she unzipped a side pocket of her bag, pulled out a key, and let them into the foyer.
“Thank you, Frederick. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
He didn’t move. Neither of them spoke. Blue felt like she was in high school again. Frederick had walked her to the door, and now they stood facing each other, in an awkward moment, as though he was waiting for a goodnight kiss. For a moment she had the impulse to take his hand, pull him to her, and look up, waiting – like in the old movies.
“Let’s be sure your friend is here,” he said, nodding to the panel of buttons.
“Yes, of course.” She pressed five-twelve.
“You there, hon?” Denise’s voice crackled through the speaker.
“I’m here. I’m okay.”
“Thank God. Come on up.” The button blinked, buzzed, and the door lock clicked. Blue pulled the door open, held it.
“Frederick, how can I ever thank you? You’ve been an angel.”
“It’s what I do best,” he said. “You’re safe now, Blue. And we’ve got your back.”
And he slipped out the door.
