Pastor Water's Daughter: Chapters 1 & 2 (Spring Restoration)

 

Chapter One

I

I always miss my father. He taught me almost everything I know. Every day, his words of wisdom reverberate in mind, and they have continued to come true in most of the events that have shaped my life.

“Human beings are not fools,” he often told me. “Nobody chooses the devil, son; the devil chooses you,” he would declare.

Fatalistic as this might sound, it came true in my life in a most weird and amazing way. Yes! The devil chose me. The devil chose me the day I became an active member of St. Teresa’s Episcopal Church, a popular church attended by the black community in Middle River neighborhood in those days. By saying this, I do not really mean that he came to me frontally and picked me up. No! The way I see it, he waited until I had given in to the request of Reverend Waters, who was in charge of the Parish at the time, to pick up his beautiful daughter from the airport. 

Brittany, the pastor’s daughter, was young and very beautiful. The fact that I was also young and single at the time was, perhaps, why the devil knew that I was ripe for the taking. All he had to do was to throw such an enticing proposal my way, and the rest fitted in perfectly.

It started one afternoon in the month of June, 1975. Since there was nothing important to do in my office, I dozed off.  Soon the telephone bell brought me awake with a start.

I reluctantly picked up the receiver.

“Yes, Candace?”

“It’s Reverend Waters on the line,” Jane said.

I was surprised.

“Reverend Waters? Did he mention why he’s calling me?” I asked.

“No, he didn’t. But he said it’s important.”

By now I was fully awake.

“Okay, put him through,” I said, and sat forward, rubbing my eyes.

For five years I had been the News Editor at the Essex office of the Middle River Times, a small metropolitan newspaper owned by Reverend Waters and his late brother, Kamal Waters.   Before coming to Middle River, I was freelancing for the branch office of this newspaper house in Trenton, New Jersey. In the 1970s Middle River was a small, sleepy town on the east side of Baltimore. It was a place where everybody knew everybody else.  One bad thing though was that gossip travelled faster than the speed of light in this small town. On the positive side, all you needed to get a decent job in the town was a good recommendation letter. I was one of the lucky ones because Reverend Waters did not have to think twice before recommending me as the News Editor of Middle River Times. Who would be a better candidate than his parishioner who was also the Editor of the church’s weekly bulletin?

A recommendation by Reverend Waters was a guarantee for almost anything in Middle River. He was a rich and well-connected African American. He even played chess with the Mayor of Baltimore City. To have Reverend Waters call you on the phone was like having the Mayor ask you out to dinner in the county clubhouse.

With the receiver on my ear, I heard his rich, relaxed voice clearly.

“Harry?” He called out.

“Yes, Reverend Waters. What can I do for you today?”

Still holding the receiver on my ear, I wondered why he was calling me. It had to be something important. I just hoped I was not in trouble. I could not imagine Reverend Waters calling me unless something going on at the parish house or at Middle River Times had displeased him. However, I was surprised when he told me why he was calling me.

“Look Harry,” he said, “You don’t have to do this. Please, let me know if you can handle this. I will be going to Paris tomorrow for a conference and vacation, and I shall be away for seven months. My daughter, Brittany, will be arriving at BWI Airport on the twelve-thirty plane. She will not take summer classes at the Rutgers University in New Jersey. So she will spend her holiday at our house at Victory Villa. Maybe she can get a part-time job too. I want you to meet her and take her to the parish house, and then to our house at Victory Villa. The parish secretary will give you more details. Can you do that for me?”

I heaved a sigh of relief. I knew he had been married two times but he was somehow secretive about his daughter. 

“Sure, I will,” I replied.

“Like I said, she’ll be staying at our house in Victory Villa,” he continued. “I will tell her to call you if she wants anything. Please don’t give her any money. She’s getting one hundred dollars every two weeks from me and that’s a generous allowance for a girl her age. I’ve already told her to get a vacation job and if she could do that, she wouldn’t need much money anyway. But, to be on a safer side, I want someone I can trust to be around in case she gets ill or something, you know.”

“No problem Reverend Waters. I will pick her up from the airport, and I will be around in case she needs anything,” I replied.

“Thanks a lot Harry.” There was a pause, and then he said, “How’s life treating you so far? You’re enjoying your job?”

I believe he was just trying to be nice. Otherwise, he did not sound that interested in my welfare.

I said everything was okay at my end.

There was another long pause.

“I heard good things about you Harry,” he said abruptly. “Shabray was talking to me about you last night. He has a high opinion of you Harry. He’s thinking of giving you a bump, you know. He could put you in charge of the new operation in Trenton City.”

I drew in a long, slow breadth. Wow! This is good news- the best in the last twelve months! I had been arching to hear this type of news because it means higher pay and good bank balance.

“I will certainly be honored if I’m favored with the position.”

“I will talk to him Harry” he said, “Shabray will listen to me.”

“Thanks a lot in advance Reverend Waters,” I said.

“You are welcome son. I have high hopes for you.  Now, let me leave you alone so you can do your job. I will talk to you later.”

I waited until a click on my ear told me he had hung up. Then I gently replaced the receiver.

I stared at the opposite wall while  thinking that it would be great to be in charge of the Middle River Times office in Trenton City after being  the News Editor in Middle River for five years. Not that I disliked Middle River, but I knew that I would neither get an increase in pay nor a chance for promotion so long as I was holding this current position.  As far as I was concerned, if I was going to get somewhere I would only get there in Trenton, New Jersey.

I decided to go into Candace’s office, after a few minutes brooding got me nowhere. Candace Lateef was a twenty-two year old second generation immigrant from Nigeria. She was dark, sexy and beautiful. She had been my secretary since I started this job at Middle River.  She was very effective as a secretary and sometimes I felt surprised that a girl of her age and looks could be so smart. She was typing on her electric typewriter when I came into her office. And she stopped and looked inquiringly at me.

I told her about Reverend Water’s daughter.

“Isn’t that something?” I said.  “’Her Majesty’, the pastor’s daughter, needs my attention and advice! I didn’t know I will also be a chaperone at Middle River Times!”

“You never know,” Candace said in a cool voice. “She may be beautiful. Most African-American girls are very sexy anyway. Consider this:  suppose she ends up liking you and you fall in love with her…? Hmmm!  I don’t have to tell you that you would be in a very happy position if you marry her. Reverend Waters is a power broker in this town. He can pull a lot of strings both here and at the City Hall.”

I believed her. As far as the world knew, Reverend Reginald Waters, the pastor-in-charge of St. Teresa’s Episcopal Church and the president of the East Coast Association of Black Pastors (ECABP), was a good guy, a saint. As the president of ECABP, the Reverend was a powerful man in Baltimore area, which included Middle River, and in Trenton – two cities that had very large population of African-Americans at the time. The politicians in these cities courted him, because an endorsement from him would assure them of a large number of black votes, and even endear them to the local press.  These were all they needed to win elections in the two cities. So the politicians worshipped him as if he were a royalty. An endorsement from him would automatically wash away their past sins, and make them darlings of the black population. They saw him as the Niagara Fall of black votes to which they would put their cups to have the much-desired taste of victory. Frankly, I don’t blame them: Keeping Reverend Waters happy was the most reliable political insurance policy they could ever have.

“You, Africans!” I said. “You are always thinking of marriage. You are all the same. Of course I don’t doubt she will be beautiful, coming from the Reverend’s stock. But I’m sure of one thing though: he wouldn’t want me for a son-in-law. A man like him will obviously have bigger ideas for his daughter than me.”

“Wait till you see her before jumping to conclusion,” She said, smiling at me.

Candace was right. Brittany Waters was beautiful. She was dark in complexion, like her father. She had a soft face with rounded cheek bones, and proportionally slim nose. Her body contour could drive any man crazy. But, for a daughter of a rich man like Reverend Waters, her dressing did not impress me at all. She wore horn-rimmed glasses, washed-out blue jeans, a yellow T-shirt and flat-heeled shoes. She looked just like any serious-minded college student, more like a bookworm.

I met her at BWI airport and took her to the parish house, and then to their house at Victory Villa as I was instructed. Of course, I said the usual polite things one could say to a stranger who happened to be the daughter of his benefactor, and she answered politely as well. I was as bored as a louse by the time I had got her to their house at Victory Villa, and l could not wait to get away from her.  As I was instructed, I gave her my telephone number and told her to call me if she needed anything. Then I left.  I was convinced that she would not call me since she did not look like somebody who would need my help or advice anyway.

When I got to the office, I told Candace to send a telegram to Reverend Waters to inform him that his daughter had arrived safely. At that point, I felt that I had fulfilled the first part of my promise to the Reverend. So I put Brittany’s issues aside so as to concentrate on a couple of local news stories that broke out, mostly about crimes and political issues. In fact, I completely forgot about her.

Two weeks passed and Candace told me it was both important and good to call her and find out if she was doing okay. I guessed I had no choice, so I called her but got her voice mail. I left a message for her, reminding her to call me if she needed anything. When I did not get any response from her, I called her again two days later. I did not know if she was just pretending, but she sounded surprised when she came on the line.  While I was feeling guilty that I was not looking out for her as I thought I should, she seemed to have forgotten about me completely. I did not find it funny. But what do I care? Anyway, she told me she was okay, and that she was getting along fine, and thanked me. I cut the conversation short since her voice suggested that she did not feel comfortable about my inquiries. Before I hung up I did tell her again that I would always be available if there was anything I could do for her.

For the next two weeks, I heard no more of her. I was not too worried because I was swamped by work at the office. And since I was planning for a vacation myself in a few weeks’ time, my plan was to get everything ready for Phorbus Taylor who was coming out from Trenton, New Jersey, to take my place while l was away.  My plan for the vacation was to spend a week in Atlantic City, and then go to Las Vegas for two weeks. I was really looking forward to this vacation; it would be the first long vacation I would be having in almost three years. The strange thing about this vacation was that I would be alone. This might be funny, but I was a loner. Besides, if I travelled with a companion, I would not have the freedom to change my mind on where to stay and how long I would stay, and such issues.

The third week after I had spoken to Brittany, I had a call from Marcus Evans, a good friend of mine who worked for East County Times. He asked me to come with him to a party being thrown by the city councilman, McCutchen Smith, to celebrate his re-election to the Baltimore City Council. Councilman McCutchen was once a nightclub bouncer and a local boxer. Later on, he earned his Law degree and had been in politics since then. Only in America, huh!

Well, I liked parties, especially this one in which many politicians and the crème de la crème of Baltimore society would be attending. And I knew that there would be plenty of food and drinks, and so it should be gracious and fun. I told Marcus I would pick him up around nine o’clock.

McCutchen Smith had a big house in Federal Hill. When we got there, the whole compound, including the alley, was so packed with exotic cars such as Mercedes, Chrysler, Cadillac and BMWs that my 1970 Pontiac Grand Am flinched as I drove it into the last of the parking spaces. “How these politicians live!” I wondered.

The party was good, and being a journalist, I knew a lot of people there. Most of them were politicians, as I thought. And there were plenty of food and liquor circulating. Around eleven o’clock, that night, I decided it was time for me to go to the patio to be alone and to cool off. When I got there, I saw that a girl was there alone; resting her hands on the railing while she stared up at the moon. She was wearing a very provocative red dress, which showed the outline of her figures. “Well, looks like I would not be alone after all,” I thought to myself. I went and stood beside her, and stared up the moon too.

“What do you think?”  I said. “Nicer than all the noise inside, huh?”

“Sure. And serene too,” she said. And since she did not turn to look at me, I sneaked a look at her. What I saw was not bad at all. She was ravishing with sparkling eyes that can make even a monk rethink his vocation.

“I know Paul and I know Barnabas,” I said jokingly, smiling at the same time. “How come I don’t know you? I thought I know everyone in Baltimore City”.

“I’m sure you know me Harry,” she said, turning her head to look at me. “I haven’t changed that much, have I?” she added, smiling.

I stared at her, surprised that she knew my name and amazed at why she said that.

“Forgive me sweetheart, but I still don’t recognize you,” I said, thinking she was the loveliest lady I had seen in this party, and how young and good she will be in bed. I must confess - I was a little drunk by then.

She laughed, and said: “I am Brittany Waters, and I believe we’ve met before.”

I was dumbstruck. Brittany Waters of all people! I wanted to tell her right there how surprised I was to see her at the party, how beautiful and desirable she was, how I felt a sudden thumping on my pulse and a tight feeling across my chest as soon as she turned to look at me, and things like that, but I didn’t do that. I had other ideas; and I was convinced that it would be a big mistake to say the obvious anyway.

Since Reverend Waters wanted me to watch out for her, I spent almost an hour with her out on the patio.  And since I was not expecting to see her at this elite party, this unexpected meeting did throw me off balance. In any case, we discussed general issues, being careful enough to keep our conversation at an impersonal plane. I was sharply aware that she was my benefactor’s daughter but I was attracted to her the way a moth is attracted to a bright light. I tried very hard to keep my eyes off her but I just could not. “Is she really the same Brittany I had met at the airport?” I was carried away by my thoughts, but I came to a start when she asked, “Where’s your car?”

“I left it at the garage,” I replied. “Why?”

“I wanted to ask for a favor,” she said. “Will you take me home?”

I was disappointed. I thought we were having fun.

“Come on, Brittany,” I said. “We just got here. The party is just starting to warm up and I was about to ask you to dance with me.”

I stared at her. There was a look of surprise in her eyes.

“I am really tired and sleepy,” she yawned. “Don’t bother. It’s not fair to drag you away. You go ahead and enjoy yourself. I’ll call a cab.”

“Now don’t get mad” I said. “It’ll be a pleasure to take you home. Come on, let’s go.”

She shrugged, and then smiled.

“What type of car do you drive?”

“It’s a red 1970 Pontiac Grand Am,” I said. “Don’t worry; I will walk you to my car. Let me thank my host and we will leave pronto.”

I went back into the big house which by then was packed with people and looked for Mr. McCutchen. When I could not find him, I decided that he would understand if I let my thanks drift until the next morning. We walked out of the house into the garage. I opened the door for her and then got in beside her.

I drove away down to Pratt Street. Since it was already past twelve midnight, the usual heavy traffic had thinned down a little. So it took me only around twenty-five minutes to reach her house at Victory Villa. When I pulled up in front of the house and stopped the car, she got out and said, “Do you mind coming with me? It feels lonely in there and I will appreciate it so much if you can keep me company for a while.”

I was not comfortable with the idea. She was the daughter of my benefactor after all and, in the 70s, people were more conservative than they are today. Being seen hanging out in the night with a young woman who was not your wife was enough to set the gossip mill rolling. Besides, this was my employer’s daughter- and a pastor’s daughter at that.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“Sure. Now that I know you better, I believe we have a lot to talk about.”

I shrugged and turned the engine off. We went in together. Believe me it never crossed my mind that she would ask me in. And as I felt uneasy about going into their house at that time of the night, I kept wondering what Reverend Waters would think if someone told him I had been seen entering his house with his daughter at twelve fifty in the night. Again, mind you, this was in the 1970s, when people were more conservative about relationships.  I thought about my job. A word from Reverend Waters and I would be out of my job for good. Fooling around with his daughter is a dangerous gamble. It could be as dangerous as fooling around with an angry pit bull.

We entered their huge lounge which was decorated with bowls of flowers and lit by shaded lamps. She went over to a big drinks-cabinet which was stocked with assorted liquor.

“Brandy or champagne” she asked.

I started sweating.

“I think this is a bad idea Brittany,” I said. “I just can’t stay and I believe you will understand why.”

She turned and stared at me, her eyebrows lifting.

“Why? Are you scared of my dad?”

“Yes and no,” I replied. “It’s not proper for me to stay here alone with you.”

“Come on,” she said. “We are adults and I don’t see anything wrong with our being alone.”

“I think you miss the point. What will other people say? That’s the issue here”

“Well, what other people? Nobody saw us.”

She was right. However, I still felt nervous.

“You know your neighbors could see me leaving. The walls have ears and eyes…”

She started laughing. “Just sit down for Christ’s sake and stop acting like a middle school kid.”

She got me there. If I knew then that I was walking on a mine field, I would have simply walked out. If I had done that I would have been the happiest man in the world. But I didn’t. My usual cautious judgment was swamped by the reckless, irresponsible streak in me. Instead of leaving the house, I stupidly sat down on the couch and took the glass of Champagne she gave me.

I must confess: I had kicked around Middle River for five years and I had not led an entirely celibate life. I had my big moments with a couple of ladies in the neighborhood and they were actually good and lively. But as I sat with Brittany in the lounge, I could not help thinking that this was something special, even though I was nervous.

“So how’s life at the college?” I asked.

She regarded me with a half-smile.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

I nodded.

“It’s boring,” she said. “I’ve actually dropped out. But don’t tell my father.”

“He will eventually find out anyway.”

“Why would he bother? He’s too busy with his latest wife to bother about me.”

I could not help noticing the bitterness in her voice.

“You know that’s not true,” I said. “Your father loves you. He’s so concerned about your wellbeing that he asked me to watch out for you. Can’t you see that?”

I knew that trying to convince her was like selling pork to a vegetarian.

“Oh, please!” she snapped.  “Tell you the truth the only thing he’s concerned about is that new wife of his. Instead of being in the way, I decided to enroll into college so that I would live in the hostel. And he jumped at the idea because I knew he felt that I was actually in the way. Tell you what, that woman is nothing but a fortune hunter. I can tell you that. Otherwise, how can you explain why a club girl of my age would marry a sixty-two-year old man- a pastor for that matter? See what I mean?”

This is too much information- personal information, and by telling me this, she was making me an accessory. If Reverend Water found out that she had dropped out from college, and that I knew but did not tell him, the hammer might come down on me.

“Now you are scaring me Brittany,”   I said.

“I’m really not trying to scare you Harry,” she paused. “I’m just telling you the story of my life. I don’t tell that to everyone. I guess I like you.”

“You are just being young and innocent,” I said.

“I’m not that young” she said. “I’m twenty-one. My mother died when I was twelve years. My father had been alone since then. He really loved my mother, and I think her death brought us very close. Now this girl came along with the charms of her youth and everything changed. I’m as unwelcome to her as an outbreak of Ebola fever. But the thing that worries me though is that she married him for his money.”

“If you asked me, that shouldn’t make you drop out of college,” I said. “As a matter of fact, it should be a source of motivation for you to pursue a career. Come to think of it, you trusted me so much by telling me all these. What’s to stop me from sending a telegram to your father, telling him what has been going on?”

“I know you won’t do that. I’ve talked to Marcus Evans about you. He said you can be trusted. If I don’t trust you, you wouldn’t be sitting here talking to me this very moment.”

I laughed, and then said, “So why am I here then?”

She stared at me and I stared at her. The expression in her eyes actually lit a flame of desire on my loin. Now, I have dated a lot of women in my life. So I knew what that expression meant: she was inviting me to go ahead and make love to her.

“I’ve already told you that I like you,” she said. “I’m tired of dating young college kids. They are so immature and so stupid and direct. I asked Marcus to bring you to the party, and we are here now, aren’t we?”

I was definitely turned on by then. But I did know that this could be risky. I owed my job and my reputation in this small town to Reverend Waters. But at that point I did not care anymore. I knew that all I had to do was to get up and take her in my arms. I expected no opposition from her. I hesitated for a second, and then did just that. With her in my arms, I slid my tongue into her mouth. She responded wildly, grounding her pelvis against my mine. We kissed, rubbing each other and grinding our hips together.

I felt her fingers working furiously to unfasten my belt and then the button on my pants. I could feel her slip her hand down my underwear. I gasped when she pulled my manhood through the opening of my boxers and rubbed the head against her crotch.

“Don’t worry about my dress,” she said breathlessly. “Just take off my pants and let’s make love.”

And we made love.

After we were done, we both slipped down the floor and I let her lie on top of me.  I started stroking her hair.

“I will be leaving soon sweetie,” I said. “I have some work to do before going to my office tomorrow.”

“But you can’t go now. I need you around”

“I will like to stay sweetheart,” I replied, kissing her. “But you know, news is time-sensitive. I know you will understand.”

She looked disappointed.

“All right, if that’s the way you feel” she said, putting her dress back. I got dressed too and she walked me to the door.

“Maybe we can have a dinner one night or go to a movie,” I said.

“That would be excellent,” she said.

At that point, I kissed her good night and left the house.

 

 

II

I wished that my encounter with Brittany ended like that but, unfortunately it didn’t. I was only afraid of one thing: sooner or later a relationship between a man like me and a girl like Brittany could become complicated. The more I tried to put her out of my mind the more I failed. She was like a drug in my system. Even though at the back of my mind I knew I was inviting trouble, but then every trouble seemed unreal because I was hooked. So I kept thinking to myself – “who cares”?

While at my office the next day she was constantly on my mind. Of course I did not tell Candace that I had met Brittany at the party. But for some reason I caught her looking at me several times with a puzzled, inquiring expression. “Am I this transparent to her?” I wondered.

By late afternoon of that day I became very restless. I found I was not concentrating on my job because I had gotten Brittany so much on my mind. When I returned to my apartment after work that day, I called her but there was no answer. I waited for about an hour and called again. This time I heard the receiver lifted and she said, “Hello?”

“Hi Brittany!” I said.  “This is Harry. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well Harry,” she replied. “What about you?”

“I’m actually feeling lonely,” I replied. “Would you mind coming out with me tomorrow night? We might have dinner at the Idle Hour restaurant”

“That sounds good,” she said. “But I cannot manage tomorrow. I have another engagement tomorrow.”

I was surprised. This was someone I made love to just the previous night. I should have said it was too bad and hung up but I did not. She was always on my mind.

“So which other day are you free?”

“What about Saturday night? I’m free on Saturday.”

That was like four days ahead, but I did not really care.

“So it’s a deal?”

“Sure it is,” she said. “However, I’d rather not go to the Idle Hour in Victory Villa. Isn’t there another one in Baltimore City?”

That brought me to a sudden alert. She was definitely thinking about the danger of our being seen together. And frankly I did not blame her. Like I said before, Victory Villa was a very small hamlet where everybody knew everybody else. So gossip travelled fast.

“Sure. There’s one in Fells Point. We will go to that one,” I said.

“Perfect,” she said. “That would be lovely”

“I will pick you up by eight-thirty?”

“Sure,” she replied.

After making this appointment with Brittany, life didn’t mean much to me until that Saturday evening. And Candace, hmmm! She was definitely worried about me. By then, I had worked with her for five years and during that timeframe I had never snapped at her. But, this time, I was short-tempered with her. With Brittany on my mind, concentration was a challenge and I could not work up any enthusiasm for the job at hand.

Our dinner was not bad at all. I cannot say I remember what we ate because all I wanted to do was to look at Brittany. She was so sexy. I was hoping she would invite me into her house again when I took her home- to hell with Reverend Waters- but she didn’t. I had thought we could use the dinner to consolidate a new relationship but, in fact, it made things worse. I just could not understand the sudden lack of interest in me. I promised myself that I would give her one more trial and, if it did not work, I would take her off my mind. So, four days later, I called her again.

“I’m really busy Harry” she said. When I suggested we should go to the Bengies Drive-In movie theater together. “I can’t make it this time, and I am sorry” was her reply.

“No problem Brittany,” I said, disappointed. “In any case, I will be taking a four-week vacation next week. So I will see you again when I get back.”

“You are going away for four weeks?”

She sounded interested.

“Yes,” I replied. “I will be going down to Atlantic City and from there to Las Vegas”

“So, who’s the lucky girl you are going with?”

“Actually I am going alone. I have…”

“Oh Harry, there’s someone at the door” she suddenly said. “I will call you back later” and she hung up. She never called. I waited for two days. On the third day, she rang my number just as I was about to call her.

“Please forgive me Harry,” she said as soon as I came on the line. “I’ve been meaning to call you but I haven’t had the chance until today. Are you busy right now?”

I looked at my watch. It was forty-five minutes past midnight, and I was about to call it a night.

“Do you mean right now?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Not really. I was about to retire for the night.”

“Will you mind coming to my house? I will understand if you can’t make it.”

This was an opportunity I had been waiting for, so I did not hesitate at all.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

Brittany was one girl that I just could not understand. One minute she would be crazy about me and the next minute she would not stand me. To make sure no one saw me, I sneaked into the house like a thief. I found her in the lounge, sorting through a stack of cassettes. She was looking sexier than the last time I saw her, and she knew it.

“So you are here, huh?” she said, putting the cassettes aside and smiling at me.

“Well, ‘Her Majesty’ called and here I am,” I said. “But Brittany, you know we shouldn’t be doing this in your house. This is the way to start real trouble.”

“You need to relax Harry,” she replied.

“I am trying to,” I said. “It will be better if we were in my house or somewhere else.  I mean it would be better and more respectable that way. I have to think of my job. You may not know it but your father is powerful in this town. I got my full-time job through his recommendation. He trusted me and I am not showing him the right respect and appreciation by fooling around with you in his own house. He would see to it that I never got another newspaper job in this town if he ever found out.”

She looked surprised.

“But are you really fooling around with me? Is that what you call being around me?”

“I’m sure you know what I mean Brittany,” I said.

“My father will not find out Harry. Why should he anyway?”

“Listen Brittany,” I patiently explained. “People could me coming here or leaving, they could tell him about it.”

“Then the solution is simple,” she laughed. “Just be careful so you won’t be seen.”

“Oh Brittany…”
“Oh stop it Harry,” she said. “And you know what? I’m getting tired of your complaints. You are not really romantic, I can see that. The other men I dated only thought about me, not their jobs.”

“Well, you win.”

So I sat down while she went to the cabinet to get some drinks.

“So what are you having this time?’’ she asked.

“Champagne I guess,” I said.

Now I was alone with her again, I started to wonder why she had asked me to come at such a late hour. With my job hanging in the balance, I felt I should not have come that night.

“Oh Harry, before I forget: would you look at this video camera and show me how to use it? I bought it today. I mean, I’m very good with video cameras, but this one is a little different.”

She waved to where the video camera was on the couch. I picked the camera up. It was a Bell and Howell 8mm Reflex Zoom Cine Camera with a case and power grip. This was a very expensive video camera in those days. This particular one could cost a fortune.  It suddenly occurred to me that, for somebody getting only one hundred dollars every two weeks, she was certainly living beyond her allowance. 

“This video camera obviously cost a fortune,” I said, “but it looks good.”

“I like good things. So can you show me how it works? I also bought ten cartons of films for the camera,” she said, pointing to where the cartons of films stood on her couch.

“That’s quite a lot.” I said. “You ain’t gonna use all of them in Middle River, are you?”

She didn’t say anything.

After she handed me the drink, I explained to her how to use the camera to record events and pictures. Then she said, “I’m going to use it to keep a record of my stay in Atlantic City.”

“Atlantic City?” I was puzzled. “Are you going to Atlantic City, too?”

She smiled. “You think you are the only one who takes vacation.”

“I’m certainly not, I can see” I said, looking more confused.

“I have rented a vacation house at the Boardwalk. I will stay there for two weeks.”

“Has someone left you a fortune or what?” I asked

“I wish,” she said. “Why?”

“I know it’s not my business but for a college girl your age to rent a vacation house at the Boardwalk for two weeks, I am baffled. That ‘ll be very expensive.”

She shrugged. “Dad gives me generous allowance.”

What she did not know was that her father told me exactly how much he was giving her. So I knew she was living well beyond the allowance Reverend Waters was giving her. He told me in confidence that he was giving her one hundred dollars every two weeks. But a vacation house in the boardwalk will cost more than one hundred dollars a week. To me, that was too much for a college girl of her age.

“Well, if he does, I guess you shouldn’t worry then,” I said. “So when are you leaving?”

“The same time as you are going there.” She came over and sat on my lap. “And I am going alone, just like you.”

She looked at me. When I looked into her eyes, there was no doubt in my mind that she was not telling me this without a reason. The invitation in her eyes was irresistible. Before I knew what I was doing, we started making love again.

For the next thirty minutes we lay exhausted on the floor. Then she said, “Look, Harry, I’m not a baby anymore, so I know how you feel about me. The good thing is that I feel the same way about you too, regardless of what had happened between us a week ago. Let’s go to Atlantic City together. I will arrange everything. Now that I know how you feel about dad and your job, I promise you I will cover our tracks very well. I rented the vacation house near the Boardwalk using the names Mr. and Mrs. Reed.  You will be Mr. Graham Reed, a college professor on vacation. No one will recognize us down there. I think it will be exciting to spend a week together- just you and me- don’t you think so?”

“Sounds nice,” I said. “But we just can’t do it. Why the rush?”

I must confess, deep inside me, I was thinking that there was no reason why we should not do it. It was actually what I would like to do. I was just afraid and concerned that a young girl of her age could make this kind of move. And I was worried about Reverend Waters too. He would be very disappointed with me. The other church members would start avoiding me like poison. All my friends in this little town would ostracize me. Oh Madonna!

“You worry too much sweetheart,” she said. “I told you, I got this.  All we have to do is to be very careful. First, I will go down there using one of dad’s cars. You will join me the next day by train. I am sure you will like the vacation house. I mean, who wouldn’t?  The place is called South New York Avenue. It’s basically in the Boardwalk, very lovely and faces the ocean and we don’t have to worry about people recognizing us since the nearest house to it is at least a quarter of a mile away. Please write down this address just in case. That’s the house’s address. Apart from the village maid that will be our house-help while we are there, we will have the ocean to ourselves! Isn’t that good? I can bet my life you will love it!”

I brought out my pen and jotted the address down on my pocket diary. She also fetched a large-scale map that was lying on her couch where the vacation house was- where it was marked on the map. It was pretty isolated, and from the terrace you could see the ocean. I admit; it was gorgeous.

“Sure I will Brittany,” I said. “Any normal man will jump at the idea. My only concern is this: what happens to us after this escapade?”

She laughed.

“I know what you are thinking about, Harry,” she said. “Sure- I care about you. But I’m not in love with you yet so I won’t expect you to marry me after this. So you have nothing to worry about. This has been my fantasy for a long time: staying alone with a man I can trust in a place where nobody knows us.  One thing I’m sure of is that I want to be alone with you for two weeks.”

“Are you sure about this, Brittany?”

She kissed my mouth.

“Look Harry,” she said. “There’s nothing else to talk about this matter. I already told you I’ve planned it most carefully. I also promise you that there will be no strings attached to it. So the ball is now in your court. If you want to spend two weeks with me, fine; if you don’t, fine. I will be at the train station on the 20^th and if you are not there waiting for me to pick you up, I’ll understand.”

“Come on Brittany…”

“Please Harry. Let’s forget about it for the moment. I want you to make love to me again. You will either be on the train station or you won’t.”

So I made love to her, knowing that I would be at the train station in Atlantic City.

When I left her house later, I could not help thinking again that she was definitely living beyond her means. Reverend Waters told me he was giving her one hundred dollars every two weeks. And from the way he said it, I was sure he did not want her to receive more than that. Knowing the price of vacation houses in a place like Atlantic City, the one she showed me must really have cost a fortune. So where else is she getting her money? “ Hmmm! The rich- how the rich live!” I mused.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

I

From my personal experience with women, I have come to conclude that a relationship with a woman like Brittany is like food in a microwave oven: it can turn from lukewarm to scalding hot in a matter of a few days. That was how I felt then. The following days I busied myself preparing for my trip to Atlantic City. But I was facing a little problem- even though I had a lot to do before leaving for Atlantic City; I was having great difficulty concentrating on what I was doing. Sometimes, I even felt nervous each time I remembered that I would be spending two weeks alone with this exciting girl. Who knows, she might decide to come with me to Las Vegas after that. I felt like a young boy looking forward to his first date. The sane voice on my mind kept telling me that I was crazy to go ahead with this plan. But like most men, I was hooked:  Brittany’s beauty really got me going. She told me she was careful when she was making the plan. Nobody will recognize us there, she had said. And to tell you the truth, I believed her. She was offering me herself and I would be a fool if I did not grab this chance. What about Reverend Waters? Again, who cares? After all he, too, was having a time of his life in Paris. He would not know what Brittany and I were doing down here.  Paris was almost 3,800 miles from Atlantic City. I did not know anyone who could see that far.

Before leaving for my vacation, I had to smoothen the ground for Phorbus Taylor who would take over the office in my absence. He was a sound newspaper man- I guess I can give him that. I had worked alongside him way back in 1971, when I was freelancing for this newspaper house. While he was very good in gathering news stories for publication, I don’t think he had much talent for anything else. You may call me a jealous man if you like, but I thought he was too good looking and too well- dressed for my liking. And I did not think he liked me either. But we must be professional with each other. So I decided to give him a big welcome when he arrived. I suggested we should have a dinner together after we had spent a couple of hours in the office going over future writing projects.

“That will be great Harry,” he said. “I will like to know what this sleepy town has to offer. I must warn you though, I eat a lot and I may burn a hole in your pocket.”

          I took him to Idle Hour-  one of the best restaurants in Middle River at the time, and gave him two large Clubhouse Grille sandwiches made up of warm ham, thick-cut turkey breast, melted cheddar and jack cheese with bacon, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and a drizzle of their signature honey barbeque sauce on toasted Tuscan bread. From the expression on his face, I was convinced that he enjoyed the meal.

          After we had eaten and gotten on to the third jug of coffee, he became very friendly and talkative at the same time.

“You know Harry,” he said, “I envy you sometimes. Everybody in this firm likes you. You are in Shabray’s good book. He seems to like every story you publish here. Now, this is off the record: you didn’t hear this from me, okay? In a couple of months, he’s going to give you a bump. His plan is for me to replace you here and you will be in charge of our new office in Trenton.

“Are you sure about this,” I said, staring at him. “I know you are just cracking jokes.”

“No, I’m not. It doesn’t make any sense to joke about something like that.”

          Actually I was surprised and excited to hear this good news from him, but I tried very hard not to show it. To be in charge of our operation in Trenton City was the top of my ambition because it meant a fat salary. Besides, being in that position could catapult me into almost a celebrity status. It was also a plum job of all the jobs on the Trenton Tribune, the holding company of Middle River Times at the time.

“If you don’t believe me now, you will in a couple of weeks when it will be official,” Phorbus told me. “If I were you, I will buy a bottle of champagne for Reverend Waters. He gave you a very strong recommendation, and Shabray swallowed it hook, line and sinker. To him any word from that Reverend is gospel truth. You don’t know how lucky you are my good friend.”

“If what you are telling me now is true, then I am definitely the luckiest man in the world,” I replied.

“I know you are very much attached to Middle River,” he said. “I mean, it seems to be a nice place. Will you mind moving to Trenton City?”

“For a job like that, I won’t mind moving,” I replied. “I will eventually get used to living in the city, you know.”

He shrugged.

“That kind of job is not for me- too much responsibility,” he said. “You go ahead and take it Harry. I will be good at Middle River Times.”

“I’m sure you will have a good time here.”

He sank lower in his chair, and then said, “May I ask you a personal question?”

I nodded.

“Yes, sure,” I said.

“How are you managing with Brittany?”

I was surprised he asked me that question. He was the last person I expected to ask me about her.

“Who?”

“Brittany Waters. I learnt you are her ‘chaperone’, right or wrong?”

The red light on my mind went up. Like I said earlier, I worked alongside Phorbus way back in 1971 and I knew he had a nose for scandal. If he got the faintest suspicion that Brittany and I had something going on, I would be in serious trouble because he would work at it until he got the full story. So I must be very careful here, I thought to myself.

“Well,” I said, “I was her ‘chaperone’ just for one day. That’s all. I’ve scarcely seen her since then.  Reverend Waters asked me to pick her up from BWI Airport and take her to their house at Victory Villa. She might be studying or doing some part-time job, I believe.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“She’s doing what?”

“Doing some part-time job, or studying,” I said. “Why are you surprised?”

“Brittany doing some part-time job and studying?” He leaned forward, stared at me in disbelief, and then burst out laughing aloud. The people in the restaurant turned around to stare at us. I felt a little bit embarrassed.

“What?” I said.

When he got over laughing, he waved an apologetic hand probably because he saw I was not at all amused. He made an effort to control himself and then said, “Sorry Harry. If you knew Brittany the way I do, you would do the same yourself. Brittany working…” He broke off and started laughing again.

I was mad this time.

“Look my good friend,” I said. “I think it will be fair to both of us if you can tell me what everybody but I seem to know about this girl. This is really not funny.”

“It is actually funny Harry,” he said. “Just wait till I finish my story. Frankly, I’m surprised that she hasn’t taken you in too. As a matter of fact, it seems that the only guy who knows her family connections with this company and who isn’t on to her yet is you. You must really be a strong-willed person if you haven’t got her tapped yet.”

“Can you be more specific because I’m not really following this,” I said.

“Well, obviously you haven’t seen much of her,” he said. “Because I can bet that she will definitely fall for a big, hunky man like you. She always falls for your type. Don’t tell me she showed up at the BWI airport in her usual horn-rimmed glasses, washed out blue jeans, a T-shirt and flat-heeled shoes?”

“Listen Phorbus, either you give me her story or you change the subject,” I said. “There’s no point in keeping me hanging here.”

He grinned, and said, “You are really luckier than I thought possible, or simply unlucky, depending on how you see it. Everybody in Trenton knows about Brittany, especially since she is Reverend Waters daughter. Reverend Waters, as you know, is also well connected to the powers-that-be in Trenton, and he practically owns and controls this company after his brother’s death. Anyway, Brittany was notorious in Trenton. When rumors had it that she was heading for Middle River and the Reverend wanted you to keep an eye on her, we all thought that sooner or later she will get you hooked unto her. I tell you Harry, Brittany will make a play at anything in trousers so long as he has your physique, believe me. So you mean she hasn’t made even a pass at you? I’m really surprised!”

I started to sweat.

“This is really interesting news for me,” I said.

“Harry, Brittany’s mission in life is money and this makes her a menace to men,” he began. “And that’s the part I couldn’t understand because her father is a millionaire with high level political connections. I mean he can get her any high-level job if she wants. As you know, she has everything that can make a man’s head spin: she has good looks; seductive come-on eyes and a shape that can make even a priest misbehave. But the trouble she can get a guy into? Oh Madonna! To tell you the truth, minus Reverend Waters’ strong connection with the press, she would have been in the headlines of every newspaper in Trenton, at least once a week. It seems that, for some reasons, most newspaper chiefs in the city feel that they owe something to Reverend Waters. She escapes publicity because no newspaper in the city wants to upset the old man. And I’m not exaggerating.”

“Wow!” I said. “This information is too much to process. Let’s take it one after the other.”

“Isn’t it…?” he continued. “Do you know that she was cleared out of Trenton and sent down here because she was involved in Aquiles Gomez’s murder?”

By then, I was really alarmed by what I was hearing. Almost everybody in America knew Aquiles Gomez. He had been a notorious mobster in Trenton. He was wealthy, very powerful and had at one time been a hired killer. That Brittany was affiliated with this gangster who was hooked up with the Union and vice rackets was really bad news to me.

“She was involved in Aquiles’ murder? Are you sure about this?”

“I’m so sure that I can bet on it,” he said. “The word in the street is that she was his girl. Rumor had it he was knocked off in her apartment in Trenton.”

I sat very still, staring at him in disbelief.

According to newspaper reports, Aquiles was brutally murdered in a two-room apartment he was using as his love nest. The police could not trace the woman he was visiting who mysteriously disappeared. They could not trace his killer either. It was generally thought that it was Vito Roselli, a rival Italian gangster, who gave the order to slay Aquiles. Vito himself had been deported to Italy on drug trafficking charges.

“You seem to be well-informed about this,” I said. “Who’s your source?”

“Groppelli broke the news to us. And we all believed him because he always knows what he talks about. I do not think that he could be wrong this time. One thing I can tell you is that Brittany was always going around with Aquiles. She left for here soon after he was killed. Groppelli interviewed the janitor of the apartment block in which Aquiles was strangled. It was this janitor who gave him a pretty good description of the lady in this case. And the description he provided was a carbon copy of Brittany. Luckily for Reverend Waters, our people were able to close the janitor’s mouth before the police got to him, which explained why this part of the story never came out.”

“You guys did a pretty good job of it I can see,” I said.

“Well, looks like you don’t have any bad story to tell me about her while she has been here,” he said disappointingly. “You know what that tells me? She has finally had a scare and is at last behaving herself. Now this is between you and me: I thought I might have a try at her myself when I heard I was going to take your place here. She is really seductive. As you were told to look after her, I was hoping that you will make the journey smooth for me since by now she would have been more than old friends with you, you know. See how disappointed I am?”

I grinned.

“You really have a low opinion of me,” I said. “Do you really imagine I will be fooling around with Reverend Waters’ daughter? Come on! He’s my benefactor for Christ’s sake!”

He looked at me and said, “Why not? She’s worth fooling around with, just like every other sexy girl. And the good thing about her is that she’s so smart with this kind of things that she takes good care her dad never found out. See? That girl has been messing around with men since she was fifteen, and her old man has never found out. Tell you the truth; if you haven’t seen her without her signature horn-rimmed glasses, washed out blue jeans, a yellow T-shirt and flat-heeled shoes, you haven’t seen anything. She is really terrific when she dresses up. And I won’t lie to you: I’m not going to stop her if she ever makes a play at me like she does to other men.”

With great difficulty, I was able to get him off the subject of Brittany so that we could talk business. Finally, we decided it was time to take him back to his hotel after we had spent another hour talking. He thanked me for entertaining him and told me he would be in the office the following morning to tie up the loose ends.

“Now if you don’t mind my saying this again, Harry,” he began as we were parting, “you are one of the luckiest guys I know. Being in charge of our Trenton Office is about the best job in this business. I know some guys who would give up their wives to have it. It’s not for the likes of me though- it’s too much hard work. But for you- if you can let a sexy girl like Brittany slip through your fingers- then you are level-headed enough to hold down the Trenton City office.”

I told him that we should wait and see.

“Thanks for the meal again, Harry. I guess we will call it a day then” he said.

“Sure,” I replied.

We got into my car and drove through the congested traffic until I reached his hotel. When I drove into the hotel parking lot, we shook hands and he patted me on the back. And I drove off, heading home.  During my drive home I did some hard thinking. I will be honest here: Phorbus really shocked me with these new pieces of information about Brittany. And I knew he wasn’t lying. Groppelli was a well-respected reporter who was always accurate in any story he had to tell. So Brittany had been mixed up with Aquiles Gomez. Now who else was she mixed up with in Middle River? I knew that for people like her, once they acquired that taste for dangerous racketeers in a city like Trenton, it was only natural that they would continue to cultivate the taste somewhere else. This probably explained her high style of living. I would not be surprised if some moneybag was financing her in Middle River.

          As I was getting ready to retire for the night, my mind was urging me to forget about getting on that train to Atlantic City. I kept wondering lf if I really wanted to mix up with a girl like Brittany. If I really wanted that Trenton Office position, and I was very sure Phorbus would not have broken the news unless he was certain of the facts, then the best thing for me would be to avoid taking the slightest risk that would jeopardize that job or opportunity. Being in charge of our Trenton office was the plum job in the newspaper world. I knew very well that I would not only lose the job, but would also be out of the game for good if Reverend Waters found out that his daughter and I had become lovers.

“God forbid!” I said aloud as I turned off the light. “She can go to Atlantic City by herself. I will call her tomorrow and tell her I changed my mind. I will go to Las Vegas instead. She can find another sucker, not me!”

          Of course I did not stick to my decision because two days later I was on the train from Middle River to Atlantic City. Even though I was thinking that I was a fool and crazy in the head, I still felt that the train was not moving fast enough.

 

II

As one who like to make assurance doubly sure, I made a last call at the office the next  morning to see if there were any personal letters for me before catching the train to Atlantic City. Phorbus was out, but I found Candace sorting through a stack of mails.

          Sitting on the edge of her desk, I asked, “Anything for me Candace?”

“No,” she said, “You don’t have any personal letters and I believe Phorbus can handle all these. You told me you wanted to leave early. If that’s still in your plan, shouldn’t you be on your way?”

“I have plenty of time,” I said, looking at my wrist watch.

Since my train to Atlantic City would leave by noon, I was convinced that it was not necessary to be in haste. In any case, I often forgot things each time I was in a hurry, so why bother?

I had told Candace I was going to Las Vegas and, l had quite some trouble preventing her from booking a seat for me on the Baltimore’s Penn Station- Las Vegas line.

As we sat there talking, the office phone rang and she picked up the receiver.

“Middle River Times, Candace Lateef. May I know who’s speaking with me?” Candace said. “Mrs. who? Will you hold on a moment? Let me find out if he’s in.” She looked at me, frowning and I could see that she is definitely puzzled. “A Mrs. Reed is asking for you.”

I almost told Candace that I did not want to speak to her since I did not recall knowing who she was when the slightly familiar sounding name suddenly set off an alarm bell in my mind. Mrs. Graham Reed- the same name Brittany had said she used when renting the vacation house in Atlantic City. I could not believe she was calling my office.

” Is she this reckless?” I muttered under my breath.

To avoid raising any suspicion from Candace and also to hide my anger, I reached forward and took the receiver from her hand. I made sure I turned my back to Candace so she could not watch my face. Then I said, “Hello. Who am I speaking with?”

“Hello Harry,” I was right- it was Brittany all right. “Sorry to surprise you like this. I know you won’t like me to call your office, but I tried your apartment and I could only get your voicemail.”

Remember, this was in the 1970s, when there were no cell phones, the internet or emails. People communicated using landlines, letters and telegrams. That was why she could only reach me with my house phone or my office phone.

Anyway, if Candace were not there, I would have told her that she was crazy to have called me there. And because Candace would wonder what it was all about if I hung up angrily, I decided to stay calm and talk to her.

“So, what do you need?” I said.

“Is there someone in your office?”

“Yes.”

          At that very moment, the office door jerked open and Phorbus Taylor breezed in.

“Jesus Christ! You still here?” he exclaimed when he saw me. “I would be on my way to Las Vegas by now if I were you.”

I waved him to silence and said into the mouthpiece, “So what can I do for you?”

“Nothing really,” she said, “Just wanted to make sure you are coming as we planned.”

“Sure, I will,” I replied.

“I can’t wait to see you sweetie! I’m sure you will like it down here…”

Knowing that Phorbus might be listening, I felt that the best way to prevent her low clear voice from reaching him was to end the conversation.

“Sure. Goodbye for now” I said and hung up.

I was right: Phorbus was staring inquisitively at me.

“That was pretty abrupt,” he said. “I could have bet my life that you don’t treat your lady callers like that”.

I was aware that Candace was also staring at me, puzzled, and as I moved away from the desk, I tried as much as I could not to show them how rattled I was. In the effort to hide my confusion, I smiled to him and said, “I guess I’ll be on my way to Las Vegas now. I just stopped by to see if there were any personal mails for me.”

“Take it easy brother,” Phorbus said. “I know you are not up to some form of mischief even though your facial expression says otherwise. Or are you?”

“Aw, common, Phorbus!” I said, trying to restrain the snap in my voice. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Relax my friend,” he said. “Your vacation starts today. Don’t spoil it by getting sour. I was only kidding.” And when I did not say anything, he went on, “Are you taking your car with you?”

“No” I replied, “I will use the train.”

“You shouldn’t take this kind of vacation alone,” he said, looking slyly at me. “If I were you, I should go with a sexy lady to keep me warm when it rains.”

“Unfortunately I will be travelling alone. You are really something Phorbus!” I said, going over to Candace.

“A guy has needs, you know that,” he said.

“Look after this crazy guy,” I said to Candace. “Make sure he stays on the line, and don’t work too hard yourself. I will see you soon.”

“Enjoy yourself, Harry,” she said. “We will be fine. So don’t worry about us.”

She wasn’t looking happy and that worried me.

“I believe you will.”

I turned to Phorbus and said, “So long and you be a good boy now, ok?”

“I promise to stay out of trouble” he replied.

I left them and going down the elevator to the street level, I called a cab. I told the driver to take me to my apartment. There I collected my luggage and took another cab to Penn Station in downtown Baltimore City.

At the station, I bought a ticket to Atlantic City, checked that the train was not in yet, and went to the newspaper stand where I bought the Baltimore Sun. All the time I was at the train station, I was keeping my eyes open for any familiar face. I just did not want anybody I knew to see me. As a newspaperman, I had many friends in the Baltimore region. So there was a high chance that someone known to me might appear at any moment. And if that happened, tales might get back to Phorbus and Candace that instead of catching a morning train to Las Vegas, I was seen boarding a noon train to Atlantic City. That might raise suspicions, and it was the last thing I wished to happen at that point.

As I had a few minutes to wait before my train showed up, I sat down at one of the benches at the station, away in a corner, and read the newspaper. I made sure I sheltered my face behind its open pages. Those few minutes of waiting were really fidgety ones for me. Eventually my train showed up and I managed to get a seat and settled down once more behind my newspaper. So far I had not run into anyone I knew, which was not bad.

I began to relax as soon as the train moved out of the station. So far all was going well, even though I kept thinking that a girl like Brittany who fooled around with a man like Aquiles Gomez just could not be my type.

 

III

My train arrived at Atlantic City Rail Terminal about ten minutes late. It took me another five minutes to work my way past the barrier and out into the station approach where a line of cabs waited to be hired because the train was pretty crowded. I thought that Brittany would already be waiting somewhere around the corner for me. But as I stood in the sunshine holding my bag there was no sign of her. I put down my bag, waved away an eager cab driver who wanted to conduct me to his cab, and lit a cigarette.

From the way Brittany sounded on the phone, I was surprised she was not there to meet me. I leaned against the station wall and waited, thinking that since my train was late, she might have gone to look at the shops to pass time. Soon the crowd pouring out of the station slowly disappeared. Some of them hired cabs, some walked away while some were met by friends. I began to get impatient when, after perhaps twenty minutes had passed, there was still no sign of Brittany and I was the only one left.

She mighty be sitting in one of the restaurants around this area, I thought. I took my bag to the left luggage office, where I dumped it. Since I was relieved of its weight, I wondered down the street looking for Brittany. I checked a car park around the corner but could not see any car that could be Brittany’s. I went into one of the restaurants in that area, sat down at a table and ordered a tuna sandwich and ice tea. From my table I could see all the cars and people that approached or left the station.

I looked at my watch. The time was almost four-thirty. I finished my sandwich, drank my iced tea, and then, bored with waiting; I asked the waiter if I could use their telephone. Using the telephone directory at the restaurant, I called the number of the vacation house in South New York Avenue. The phone rang but no one answered.

It was a complete disappointment.

My mind told me that Brittany might have forgotten the arrival time of my train and perhaps had only just left the vacation house to pick me up at the station. All I needed to do was to exercise some patience and wait for her. So I sat down again and waited. But the more time I spent waiting the more irritated and uneasy I became.  After waiting for about forty minutes, I decided to walk towards the vacation house in the hope that I would meet her as she drove down. From the address and explanations she gave me about the location of the house, I believed it should be a few miles down the road from where l was. Besides, there was no chance of missing her since there was only one road to the house. So, without much qualm I set off on the long walk towards the vacation house.

At that time, there were very few houses in the neighborhood closest to the Boardwalk. After walking for about two miles along this road, I arrived at a side road that would take me off the main road and down the road to South New York Avenue where the vacation house was located. Soon I arrived at the vacation house at around six-thirty, and there was still no sign of Brittany.

The vacation house was as lovely and exciting as Brittany said it was. It was a two-story building. However, since my one thought then was to find Brittany, I was not in the mood to appreciate its beauty. One thing I did notice was that the vacation house stood on its own grounds with no other house within sight. Behind the house was the ocean. I pushed open the wooden gates and walked up the broad drive, bordered on either side by beautiful flowers. Following the drive I came up to a fancy tarmac on which stood Brittany’s Mercedes convertible. I noticed that the ground around the building itself was made with reinforced concrete. Anyway, I heaved a sigh of relief. At least I did not miss her while coming up the road, I thought, as soon as I saw her car.

The front door of the vacation house was ajar so I pushed it open.

“Brittany! I’m home!”

The silence that greeted me had a depressing effect on me. I walked gently into a large hall with marbled floor. I wished I had brought my bag with me.

“Brittany! Where are you?”

Again, there was silence.

To be fair, the vacation house was really modern and nice. If Brittany had been there to greet me, I would have been thrilled with it because it was an ideal place for a vacation. It was well furnished and had a large lounge with a dining-room alcove, a kitchen and a big patio that overlooked the ocean. I decided to go upstairs to look for her, even though my mind kept telling me that she might not be there. But where else could she be? As no answer came to my repeated calls for her, I became more worried as I climbed the stairs. I went all the way to the second floor.

I did not see her in the first rooms I entered on getting upstairs. I decided I was not going to sit around in the house in the hope that she would turn up. I might as well go back to the train station to at least get my bag.  I was convinced that I could not have missed her on the walk down there from the train station. There was a chance she had gone for a walk along the path that led upwards to the top of the small hill that rose above the vacation house. She definitely must have forgotten the arrival time of my train. The best thing to do was to leave a note in case she was somewhere around the neighborhood and I had somehow missed her. The worst that could happen was that she would see the note and rush to the train station to pick me up.

I scribbled a brief note on some headed notepaper I found in one of the drawers in the room upstairs. I left the note on the table and decided to look out of the window. I discovered that there was another vacation house built on the hill face. I could not understand why anyone would decide to build a vacation house in such an inaccessible place. From the way the house looked, I came to the conclusion that the only practical way of reaching it was by the ocean.

As I was about to go downstairs I saw something that got me more confused: lying by the entrance door of the room was Brittany’s Cine Camera case. I could not believe I missed it when I entered the room.  I, however, recognized it immediately and, for a long moment, I stared at it. I had no doubt on my mind that it was hers for when I picked it up, I noticed her initials on the cover flap in gold. I became concerned when I discovered that the case was empty.

Holding the case in my hand, I rushed back to the window. Brittany must be somewhere around here! On getting to the window I looked down the ground. That was when I discovered that the backyard of the building was also constructed and designed with fancy rocks, forming a very beautiful but hard surface.  As I looked down hard my heart skipped a bit as I saw the body of a woman lying sprawled on the rocky, hard ground. She was motionless. “Did she fall down from the window or what?” I pondered as I kept looking at her motionless body, transfixed and my heart thudding. Blood was showing all over her face.

I found it unnecessary to make wild guesses: the dead woman down there was no other person than Brittany Waters. Oh my God!

 

 

From Pastor Water’s Daughter by Joseph Ejike Ojih. Copyright © 2018 by Joseph Ejike Ojih.  The complete story is now available on Amazon.com