Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo by Ronda Pauley

shouldn’t take
long,” the driver said. He seemed to like the challenge.
                The thrust of the taxi
threw Tina back in the seat. The safety of it was like a cocoon. This time she stayed
low and didn’t try to watch where she was going.
    What would her
father think if he saw her fleeing this blue mini-van? Would he think she was
afraid of everything? She knew that was true. Tina also knew she needed more
help than her father could give her. He seemed more distant to her after her rescue--smiling,
but hollow, not quite accepting what had happened to her or what she had done.
He also seemed to resent what she had put him through, the change of identity,
relocation, new job. All of it. She couldn’t change any of that. 
    This taxi driver
provided her a safety net, if only for a few minutes. They soon pulled up at
her apartment.
    “Did we lose them?”
she asked.
    “They’re nowhere
around.”
    “Please don’t let
anyone know about me,” she said as she looked around for the blue mini-van.
    She reached up to
pay the driver again.
    “No charge,” the
driver said. “That was fun. I was driving past here anyway.”
    Tina laughed.
    “Well, that was
very nice of you!” she said and put the money away. Then she closed the door. “Thanks!”
    “Now you take
care,” said the driver, and he drove off.
    Tina started to go
into the apartment and then decided, since it was still fairly early in the
day, to do what she had set out to do. Before she started, she listened
intently. There wasn’t much traffic. Mature shrubbery in this area could
provide a cover if she needed it.
    She quickly tried
to memorize her route and began walking, trying hard not to look scared. She
thought of Miss Shoe who had looked so self-assured even in the face of danger.
That’s how Tina wanted to be. She raised her head.
    After only two and
a half blocks Tina found the corner where they had parked. Her destination was
just two doors down. Tina kept on walking. What she saw was a yellow, two-story
brick building.
    When she stopped
in front of the house, she double-checked the address. This didn’t look like a
place of business and she wondered why Miss Shoe would send her here, but Miss
Shoe had put her life on the line to free her. This had to be a safe house.
There was a tiny nameplate by the door. Yes!
    Tina took a deep
breath and was about to go up to the building when she heard the same car
approaching and could hear the same loud voices of the argument. She ran to a
bush, one near the side of the house next door, and there she waited, hidden
from view of the street.
    She huddled there
and thought about ways to change her looks, starting with changing her hair
color. Maybe cut it. Not too short. The tattoo on her neck stood out like the
neon sign at that nasty cantina.
    Tina listened
intently as the blue mini-van slowed and then went on by. She waited for its
return, knowing it would. She stayed hidden. It seemed like a long wait, and
her stomach was already growling, as if it could digest itself.
    From where she
hid, she could see the front of the building. So close, but the walk up to it
seemed so hard to do. What would she say? Now she wished she’d waited until her
father could be with her. The trauma of the past two months had given her an
everpresent fear of every shadow, touch, sound, car, and of every person.  She
huddled under the shrub and cried.
    A car horn sounded
and reminded Tina of the Mariachi band that would play on the weekends and the
awful, groping, dirty men. She had to leave. She had to get back to the safety
of the apartment, with or without food.

 
FIFTEEN
     
    A slight touch brushed
Abbi’s arm. She opened her eyes. When she did, she felt refreshed and looked to
see if anyone was there. No one. Again. This kind of experience happened frequently
when her parents were gone, but more than usual recently. Abbi had given up
trying to know how it worked. It needed no scientific explanation. The