Cain sat back and thought about those first few months of freedom. She had hitchhiked across the country, putting as much space between her and Georgia as she could, finally stopping at the Pacific Ocean, which she didn’t even know was called that. She didn’t even know how many states there were. She didn’t know what California was. It had taken her years to build up even a semblance of basic knowledge.
I had to teach myself to drive a car, take medicine, and read something other than picture books, though the librarians over the years had helped me a lot with that. I had to learn how to write my name in something other than block letters. To add and subtract. Hell, what was a credit card? Or a rent payment? Or an email? Or a smartphone? Or a computer and the internet? Or a million other things that everyone else took for granted but I never could?
She leaned her head into the steering wheel. You’ve overcome so much, El. Think about that.
She drove home to get ready to go to work. She would sleep later, after her forklift gig. She would bag working out and being a cheap chauffeur today.
She didn’t like people looking for her. She didn’t want to be found. Only bad things could happen from that.
And haven’t enough bad things already happened to me?
Well, apparently not.
CHAPTER
13
SON OF A BITCH!
Cain had returned to her home to find that the padlock she used had been removed and another put in its place. And her clothes, books, and other possessions had been tossed on the ground right outside her residential pod. That included her beer and what little food she had up there and that was now rotted and also torn up by animals. Tacked on the wall next to the lock was an official-looking notice proclaiming that any trespassers would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
Still in there, under the floorboard, was all her cash, her stash of pot, and her Glock.
“Assholes,” the voice said.
She turned to see the elderly man walking up to her. He was too thin, too shaky, and he looked ready to drop dead at her feet. He was also her neighbor and a good, kind person.
“What in the hell happened, Saul?” she asked.
“They came last night, El. Tossed all my stuff out along with me. Ruined my only good pair’a pants, and all my bottles of Ensure are for shit. And that cost a pretty penny. Assholes.” He spat on the ground.
“Who are they?”
“Said they were hired by the folks that just bought this place. Some people on the West Coast, they said. Plan to turn it into ‘luxury condos’ or some such.”
“But my rent’s paid through the end of the month.”
“So’s mine. I told them fellers that. They told me it wasn’t their problem. I could go to court and sue.”
“Right, like we can afford to hire lawyers. But I still got stuff in there.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, El. They threw my ass out last night around midnight. Scared the shit outta me. Just cut my lock clean in two. They done it to everybody here. Had the cops with ’em, just in case.”
“Cops! But how can they evict people if they’ve paid their rent? I thought there were laws.”
“Hell, laws are for the rich folks. You think anybody gives a shit about us? And when I tried to argue the point one of them said the rent money we ‘supposedly’ paid wasn’t. That we were illegally squatting.”
“That’s bullshit. What else did these guys tell you?”
“Told me if I come back they’d toss me in the can.”
“But you are back.”