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  HAVEN on the RIVERWALK, a short small town suspenseful love story

  By Eileen Cruz Coleman

  Copyright © 2016 by Eileen Cruz Coleman

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Eileen Cruz Coleman.

  The bus comes to a stop in front of a small convenience store. Some of the passengers are just waking up from a nap, some are talking and laughing eagerly wanting to step outside and stretch their legs, while others still have their faces in their books, magazines or phones.

  One passenger, Maggie, sits very still staring out the window not sure whether or not to get off the bus or hide under her seat.

  The driver stands at the front of the bus holding a microphone. "Okay, folks, we'll be here for two hours. That gives you enough time to have lunch and get some shopping done. Or, feel free to stay on the bus if you want." He plops down in his seat and lets out a thunderous yawn. "I'm going to take a nap, but wake me, if you need me."

  Passengers surface and one by one leap off the bus. Maggie doesn't move. She tucks her hair behind her ears and pulls the baseball cap she's wearing further down on her forehead. It's a New York Yankees hat, used to belong to her brother. He's gone now, has been gone for six months. The hat is the only thing she has that belonged to him. Everything else died with him in the fire.

  She sinks into her seat and closes her eyes. She's decided not to get off. Two hours will pass quickly and soon they will be back on their way to Raleigh, North Carolina, which is where she's headed. A new life is waiting for her there. New York is no longer her home.

  Someone touches her on the shoulder, startling her. She sits up and adjusts her hat so she can see who it is that has frightened her.

  "I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to scare you," the bus driver says. He's a tall, heavy-set man with a thick southern accent and a bushy beard.

  "It's okay," Maggie says. But, it's not okay. It's only okay because Maggie has gotten used to always saying everything is okay. When her father insulted her and then apologized, she'd say, it's okay. When he hit her across the face and then apologized, she'd say, it's okay. When her mother apologized for letting him do those things to her, she'd say, it's okay. And when her neighbors, policemen, and firemen, told her how sorry they were that her brother had died in the fire, she said, it's okay.

  But, none of it was okay. Maggie is far from being okay.

  "I only woke you because I'm moving the bus a little further up the street, and I didn't want you to think we were leaving without the other passengers."

  "Is something wrong?" she asks.

  He tugs at his beard. "No. The bus in front of me pulled off and I'm going to move up to make room for other busses that may be coming in soon. This little town is popular in the summer. Lots of busses stop here on their way south or up north."

  It occurs to Maggie that she doesn't know where they are. Since boarding the bus in New York early that morning, she's blanked out all her surroundings, focusing instead on making sure she makes it to Raleigh. In Raleigh she'll be safe from him. She’ll be safe from Jacob, the man she married in haste after the fire because she was desperate and all alone with no place to go.

  He doesn't know where she's going. Right now, he’s almost certainly knocked on all of their neighbors' doors asking if they have seen her, demanding to let him search their homes in case they've hidden her in their basements or attics. He's furious, ready to let out his frustration on anyone who even dares look his way. Jacob is a big, muscular man, who is used to always getting his way. No one ever tells him no and no one ever goes against his will. Maggie is sure that not even his own mother ever told him no for fear he might harm her.

  Maggie got away from him without notice and that must have sent more fury up his spine, making him stronger and aggressive like a bear whose prey has managed to escape.

  She got him drunk and caressed him, said sweet things to him in his ear, helped him to bed, undressed him, kissed him, and let him believe she loved him and they were okay. And because of all of those things, he will hurt her more than he ever has if he finds her.

  "Where are we?" she asks the driver.

  He gawks at her so deeply she thinks his eyes are going to pierce her skin. "Solomon's Island, Maryland.”

  She knows what he’s looking at. It’s there for everyone to see. The mark Jacob left on her two nights ago when she told him she wanted to get a job. He didn’t think she should get one and when she insisted, a first-time sign of bravery on her part, he wacked her hard on the face. That same night, as she crawled into bed next to him, his breath on her neck, she decided she’d not spend another day telling him, it’s okay, when all she wanted to do was cry, scream and curse God for giving her the life she had.

  Maggie had known girls in high school whose boyfriends mistreated them and she never understood how those beautiful and smart girls could let those insecure, dreadful boys do that to them. But, then again, Maggie never stood up to her father. She never fought back. She was just like those girls, except worse, because she also had a mother who never defended her.

  So Maggie walked the earth thinking she was worthless and undeserving until one day, on her way home from her job as a cashier at the local supermarket, she raised her eyes to the sky and saw a pink balloon that someone had let go. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She watched the balloon go higher and higher until it disappeared behind the clouds.

  The balloon was free. It had escaped, and it was going to be okay. Maggie squeezed out only one tear that day. It was for her father because that was the day she decided he had to die.

  "I've never heard of Solomon’s," she says. And why would she have ever heard of this tiny town? She was born and raised on a farm in upstate New York and until now had never been out of the state. She's nineteen years old. For a long time, she was afraid of her own reflection, of her own shadow, of her own self. But, now, she's running away. She's running from Jacob and she's running from the truth she wishes she could make disappear.

  She's to blame for the fire that killed her brother. He shouldn’t have been in the house. She checked his room. She checked the entire house before she did what she did. He wasn’t supposed to be there. Only her father was supposed to be home.

  "Not many people have. You should get out and take a walk on the Riverwalk. Maybe go into one of the stores," the bus driver says.

  She glances out the window. It's a warm June day. Kids are playing on a playground in front of an ice cream place on the Riverwalk. Dogs and their owners stroll along, carefree. Couples hold hands, babies toddle, and birds dive into the water. Across the street from the Riverwalk, there is a small white church, shops and restaurants and happier people and children. She resolves to pretend, if only for a short moment, to be one of those happy people.

  "I'll get off for a few minutes," she says.

  "Good. Are you okay? Did someone do that,” he points to her face, “to you?”

  Touching her left cheek, she says, “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Let me know if you are not,” he says.

  “I will.”

  But, of course, she won’t let him know. Because if she does,
he may want to call the police and then Jacob will find out where she is. By now, he must have reported her missing.

  “If you see of any of the other folks from the bus, let them know I moved up a little. I don't want them thinking I left."

  Maggie won't recognize any of her fellow passengers, but she smiles and says, "Okay."

  "We're leaving," he glances at his phone, "in about an hour and a half."

  "I'll be back way before then."

  Maggie begrudgingly steps off the bus. She doesn't know where to go or what to do, but she starts walking nonetheless. She keeps her head slightly down as she walks. There is very little chance she will see anyone she knows here, but she doesn't want to take any chances.

  Up ahead, a sign that reads, Holly's Place, catches her attention. The sign is red with white letters and has a muffin painted on one corner. She walks toward it, thinking that maybe she'll buy a muffin and a cup of coffee and go back to the bus. Then, she remembers she doesn't have a lot of money with her and she should probably not spend it so casually on a muffin.

  In the last few months, she's lost a lot of weight. After her brother died and she married Jacob and he started hurting her, she kind of stopped eating. It’s not that she wasn’t hungry; it’s that she stopped caring about whether she lived or died.

  The street is lined with small houses turned into shops and directly across from them is the Riverwalk. It’s a beautiful town, perfect setting for a movie. Maggie wonders what the people who live here are like. So far, she has only seen smiling faces.

  She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong anywhere where people are happy and the sun is shining and children are running and laughing. She turns around and starts going back to the bus.

  A few seconds into her lonely stroll back, a screaming boy on a runaway bike is coming right at her.

  "Whoa, slow down, hit the brakes!" says a guy, running after the boy.

  Before Maggie can get out of the way, the boy slams into her. The bike falls to the ground; the boy with it. He immediately starts crying. Maggie is unhurt, but a bit shaken.

  The guy reaches for the boy and stands him up. "You’re a bold little man."

  Sniffling, the boy says, "You didn't fix it. My bike is not fixed!"

  "You don't know how to ride a bike yet," says a woman, presumably his mom.

  Maggie dusts herself off, pulls down her cap and starts walking away.

  "Hey, wait a minute," the guy says to her.

  She stops, but doesn't turn around.

  "Are you hurt?" he says to her.

  She turns to look at him. He's tall, dark black hair, blue eyes and olive skin.

  "I'm sorry about that. He got a used bike for his birthday and the handle bars were loose and his mom brought it in to be fixed. And well, he just jumped onto the bike and took off. Guess he was done waiting!"

  Maggie wishes he would have just let her keep walking. "I'm fine."

  "Good," he gives a quick glance at the busses on the street, "I don't think I've ever seen you before."

  "My bus stopped here."

  "Where are you headed?"

  She doesn't want to tell him where she's going. It's none of his business and he shouldn't have asked. "I need to get back."

  "Will you let me buy you a cup of coffee or something, seeing as how one of my customers hit you with his bike," he extends his hand to her, "my name is Dustin."

  She shuffles her feet and sighs deeply. "My name is Helen," she says, shaking his hand.

  "Well, okay, nice to meet you, Helen. How about it? Will you let me buy you a cup of coffee? Holly's Place makes the best coffee and muffins. I'll throw in a muffin, too."

  She smiles and examines his face. He looks kind.

  Her stomach growls, which angers her since not even ten minutes ago she had convinced herself she wasn't hungry and now, she could scarf down five muffins if someone put them in front of her.

  She scours Dustin’s face again for any signs he might be a serial killer hiding in a tiny riverside town. Her stomach rumbles even louder and she feels utterly betrayed by her own body. She can’t pass up the chance to eat something, not when someone else is paying. She needs to save what little money she has.

  When she gets to Raleigh, she’ll find a job doing whatever she can get, but right now, she’s jobless and broke and if someone offers her a free meal, she’ll take it. She doesn’t think Dustin is bad, but of course, her instincts aren’t always right. Nonetheless, she’ll take a chance.

  "The bus will be leaving soon. I only have a short amount of time," she says.

  "Great!" he says.

  They walk to Holly’s Place. He asks her where she’s from and where she’s headed and she tells him she’s from Vermont and she’s headed to Florida to visit her sister. Her response only brings more questions such as where in Florida does her sister live because he has a brother who lives in Orlando and oh wouldn’t you know it he has a friend who lives in Vermont. At this, Maggie determines not to engage any further. She goes silent the rest of the way. He doesn’t say another word.

  When they get to Holly's Place, he holds the door open for her. The aroma of fresh baked goods makes Maggie hungrier and all she can concentrate on is when she’ll be able to chomp down on a muffin, which only makes her sad because this is what her life has become. She has run away from her husband and is in a tiny town in the southern part of Maryland with a complete stranger who has offered her a small free meal consisting of a pastry and a cup of coffee. And she can’t wait to devour said meal.

  She notices a dog curled up in a corner by a small round table. No one is sitting at the table. The dog looks up at her in a way that makes her think he wants her to sit at the table with him.

  "I'll find us somewhere to sit," she says, realizing that there are few people in the place and lots of open tables.

  Dustin scans the room. "I hope you don't have too hard of a time finding a table."

  At this, she smiles. It’s been a long time since she’s really smiled. With Jacob, all of her smiles were fake, and meant to keep him from harming her. If he told her to go put on something sexy because he wanted her to parade in front of him while he ate his dinner, she’d smile and off she’d go to do what he said. If he hated the dinner she made him and asked her to cook him something else and hurry up about it, she’d smile and do as he said. And when he slapped her because he thought she looked at him in a weird way, she’d quickly throw on a smile so he wouldn’t hurt her again.

  She doesn’t think she ever offered him an honest smile, one straight from the heart, and if she ever did, it wasn’t meant for him. She was most likely thinking of the balloon that escaped into the sky and never looked back.

  "Okay, you go find us a table and I'll get us a couple of coffees and some muffins. What kind of muffin do you want?"

  "Any kind is fine."

  "How about blueberry? Holly makes amazing blueberry muffins."

  "Sounds great."

  Jacob never asked her what she wanted. He only ever told her what she wanted.

  She watches Dustin walk to the counter; the walk of a person who isn’t carrying guilt and bitterness on his shoulders, the walk of a person who isn’t bearing a poisoned soul. Maggie can’t be sure of this, of course, but she does know how a man who has injured others walks. And Dustin doesn’t walk like Jacob.

  Maggie sits at the table next to the dog. He looks up at her, lets out a sigh and puts his head back down. She wonders if maybe he didn’t want her to join him after all.

  A mother and her small son walk through the door. The boy darts to the counter yelling, “Chocolate milk! Chocolate milk!”

  His mom trails behind him. Her shoulders are slumped and she’s dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt. “Stop screaming or else!” she screams at him.

  The boy ignores her and hollers even louder. The dog barks, obviously annoyed with the screeching sounds coming from such a small human.

  “Hey, I don’t think so, Bobby. You eith
er stop yelling or not only will you not get any chocolate milk, you will never be allowed to come into my store again,” a woman behind the counter says.

  “I’m so sorry, Holly,” the boy’s mom says. She takes her son’s hand. “He’s wired today. He didn’t have a nap this afternoon. I think he’s overtired.”

  Dustin, like her, is quietly observing the scene.

  Holly frowns and bites her lower lip. She clearly doesn’t care why the boy is screaming just that he needs to stop it or out he goes.

  The boy starts jumping up and down. “Chocolate milk! Chocolate milk! I want chocolate milk!”

  Holly comes around from behind the counter, bends forward to meet the boy’s eyes and says, “Bobby, you’re a sweet kid most days, but I can’t have you acting like you’ve lost your little four-year -old mind in my store, disturbing others. I love you, and you can come back tomorrow, provided you behave, but today, you won’t be getting chocolate milk here.”

  A blonde-haired Bobby looks up at Holly like he can’t believe what his pointy-elf-like ears are hearing, like he’s going to fling himself on the floor and throw a tantrum of epic proportions until he gets his chocolate milk.

  His mom scoops him up. “Calm down.” Then she looks at Holly. “All right, you made yourself clear, we’re leaving.”

  “Make sure to come back tomorrow when he’s had his nap and isn’t over tired,” Holly says.

  “Yeah, wish me good luck,” the mom says. She proceeds to leave and in her arms is a kicking and squirming little boy who didn’t get any chocolate milk and who also hit Maggie with his bike a few minutes earlier.

  Maggie decides right then and there never to have any children.

  Dustin returns with two huge blueberry muffins and two cups of coffee. He sets everything on the table and says, “He’s a handful. Cute, but man, not an easy kid to love!”

  Her eyes widen as she stares at the muffins and she hopes he doesn’t notice how eager she is to inhale them.

  “You didn’t say how you like your coffee,” he says.

  “Black is fine.”