Cemetery Girl

“I guess they stopped when they heard me come into the room. Then they came out, and they were walking side by side. He kept his arm around her, like they were a couple, but when I looked close, I saw it was a real tight grip. His arm was around her waist, like he didn’t want to let her go.”

“Or like he was afraid she would run,” Liann said.

“Yeah,” Tracy said. “Like that. He held his head real close to hers, real close, like he was whispering something to her. . or kissing her.”

I swallowed and waited for more.

“She was on my side, the girl. It was just lucky that way. I put my hand out, real slow and gentle, and I touched her arm. I didn’t think he’d see me, but I wanted her to know I was there if she needed something or wanted to say something. The girl turned to me. She looked right at me. Her face still looked blank and all zom-bielike, but her eyes showed something else. Fear, I guess. Emotion. Like she wanted to say something to me. She really wanted to, I could tell. And the girl actually started to-she opened her mouth and looked right at me, and I thought she was going to ask me for help. And I would have done it, too, right there. I would have.”

“What did she say?” I asked, my voice getting louder.

“Nothing,” Tracy said. “Right when her mouth opened, the guy saw me there, and he must have seen my hand on her arm, because he jerked her away, pulled her right back to him the way you pull a dog on a leash, you know? He didn’t say anything to me. He didn’t have to. He just stared at me as they walked away, his eyes telling me to stay back, to butt out, to mind my own business.” Tracy seemed to have forgotten her cigarette. Its ash was growing and tipping toward the floor. “I wish I’d done something or said something. I think about it all the time.”

Her last words sounded scripted, almost insincere, but Liann reached over and gave Tracy’s hand a squeeze.

“You’re doing something now,” Liann said. “This is how you can help that girl.”

Tracy looked at me. “I saw that picture in the paper last night, and I called Liann right away.” She looked over at Liann and smiled. “I do trust her. I got busted once-”

“That’s not important, Tracy,” Liann said.

Tracy shrugged. “Whatever, right? It all came together. I want to see this man stopped. I want to see him punished.”

Her voice took on an edge that wasn’t there before, one that sounded personal. She stabbed the dying cigarette into the ashtray as if to punctuate her point. She looked away from me then, her hand near her mouth.

The crowd in the Fantasy Club picked up. Businessmen in ties sat at tables side by side with truckers and farmworkers. True democracy. There was a stirring behind the curtain on the stage, and somebody clapped. It looked like the show was about to begin.

“We need to tell the police,” I said.

Tracy’s head whipped around toward me.

“No,” she said, the same edge in her voice. She turned to Liann. “You said I didn’t have to.”

Liann gave me a quick glance, letting me know I was crossing some boundary. She leaned in toward Tracy and adopted the motherly pose again, speaking to the young woman in a gentle, comforting tone of voice.

“You said you wanted to help,” Liann said to her. “And this is the way to help. This is the way to make a difference. The only way to find this guy is to call the police. I’ll watch out for you and make sure they don’t bullshit you.”

But Tracy shook her head. She pushed back from the table and grabbed her gym bag.

“You didn’t say anything about the police, Liann. You told me no cops. You know that’s how it has to be. You know that. I trusted you.”

She stood up, a swirl of motion, and not even Liann calling her name slowed her down as she walked away. So I stood up and said her name, louder than I’d intended apparently. Tracy stopped and so did a lot of other people. They were all looking at me, their heads half cocked, their mouths partly open. Some of them smirked, and others nudged their friends as if to say, Here’s the show! Watch this guy get all crazy over a fucking stripper.

“Tracy, wait. Wait!”

She stopped in her tracks, her back to me. She didn’t turn around, didn’t encourage me, but she appeared to be waiting. Listening.

My audience listened as well.

“This is my daughter,” I said. “Like you said, you’d want someone to help your little girl if she needed it.”

Someone let out a long, sarcastic “Awwwww,” and someone else shouted, “Show us your tits!”

Tracy still didn’t move.

“Please, Tracy. You’re our only lead here.”

I couldn’t see her face. I couldn’t read what she was thinking or if my words were sinking in at all.

“I don’t like the police,” she said, her voice small and childlike.

“Liann’s right,” I said. “They have to be involved. They can help us.”

Tracy didn’t say anything else, but her head moved ever so slightly. A quick nod with her eyes squeezed shut. It looked like surrender.

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”

Chapter Seven