Twenty Minutes

Tonight had been the night from hell. Two deaths in one night. The first patient, a very kindly man, almost 80 years old, who spoke to her every night she was on duty. He always had a nice word, a bit of advice...and peppermint candy. She always smiled when she thought of him. The second death was a woman no one would miss. A nasty woman, close to 90, who never said a nice word to anyone. She even hated the wonderfully friendly dog that visited with the elderly every week.

Still, two deaths in the nursing home meant hours of paperwork. That's the reason she was leaving more than an hour after her shift ended. And waiting for the bus in Center City Philadelphia, alone, at 12:30am was never a good idea. She wasn't even sure the bus was still running, she simply "hoped" it was.

Robbie glanced at her watch, grimacing as she caught her reflection in the large pane glass window of a closed clothing store. She wasn't vain, but she was far too cute to be out here alone on this relatively deserted street. She smiled at the thought, wishing she actually felt that way about herself. The truth is she certainly generated her fair share of attention. She was the color of rich honey, a warm, silky brown that caught one's eye. Add to that her dark brown eyes, large and bright, sculpted cheekbones, full lips, and a dark mane of hair which she currently wore in a ponytail, and she really wasn't hard on the eyes. Besides, she rationalized, any woman would be stupid not to worry about being out here alone this late at night, right? No matter how she looked.

And even though she wore emerald green scrubs tonight, the outfit didn't hide her figure. The full, high breasts, small waist and well rounded hips was quite a package, albeit a small package since she stood only 5 feet 3 inches. She wasn't "full-figured," sliding her frame comfortably into a size 10 (or a 12 if she was honest), but she certainly had all the right curves in all the right places.

She glanced at her watch again. Only one minute had passed and she wished the bus would arrive already. She had a little cash in her wallet and she would be more than willing to grab a cab if she spotted one, but there was no luck with that either. She sighed and forced herself not to glance at her watch again.

At the same moment she breathed a sigh of relief, noticing the bus turn the corner on its way to her, she also spotted a figure walking in her direction. She quickly assessed it was a male. He wore a dark hooded sweatshirt and tattered jeans. She wasn't sure of his race, but he moved like a young person, someone in his late teens. The skateboard he carried helped with the assessment of his age. Robbie could feel her stomach tighten as he moved closer, the bus was still two blocks away. She was much too preoccupied with the figure approaching to realize the bus was dark and not stopping for passengers. So when it breezed past her just before the male reached her side, she could feel her heart sink.

She closed her eyes for a moment, regrouping. She was panicking for no reason. This guy probably just left work and was simply waiting for the bus to get home, right? She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and stepped into the street to look for the bus again. When she returned to the sidewalk, her companion was standing less than a foot away from her. They stood in silence for a moment.

"Hey ma, you got something you can spare to help me get on the bus?"

She was used to people asking her for help in the city considering the current economic recession. She finally glanced at him. He was white or Hispanic. Definitely not black. He didn't have an accent, but that didn't tell her much about his background. Young, slim build and not bad looking actually.

"Sorry, no." She replied, keeping it short and simple.

She went back to watching for the bus and although every vibe told her she was in trouble, she ignored the warnings, rationalizing yet again that she was just buying into whatever prevalent stereotypes there were regarding young males in the city.

Later she would admit that she wasn't completely shocked when he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her backwards. Her heart hitched and fear climbed up her spine, leaving a cold chill in its place. She had her keys in her hand, the pointy edge between her fingers as she'd been taught by friends. She balled her hand into a fist as he continued to drag her backwards into the dark space between two buildings. He pushed her, face first, against the cool brick, pressing himself against her back, and grabbed her knapsack. She breathed in deeply as he rummaged through it and she prayed silently that it was all he wanted. She heard him discard the knapsack when he found what he was looking for.

"Ten dollars. That's fucking it? What kind of fucking doctor are you?"

"I'm a nurse." She wasn't sure why she corrected him, what did it matter after all? "It's all I have. Sorry."

She heard him swear softly and step away from her. She took that moment to turn around quickly and swipe at his face, the pointy end of her key protruding from her fist. He was quicker, however, and stepped back to avoid the worst of her strike. His movement gave her some space and she tried to run from the dark ally, hoping that since he had her wallet he would not follow. That hope was dashed almost immediately when she felt him tighten his fist around the dark locks of her hair and yank her backwards once again. She fell and felt the cement scrape her thighs and elbows. She'd pissed him off and now she was more scared than she'd been a few moments earlier. What had she been thinking?

"Bitch, are you fucking crazy?"

His fist slamming into her face felt like nothing she'd experienced ever before. There was an explosion of pain in her brain that simply and utterly stunned her. She stopped breathing for a moment, then forced herself to remember how. It was in those few moments that she realized she was still on the ground, lying on her back...and he was now kneeling between her thighs.

"You wanna act like a bitch, you gonna get fucked like one."

He was tugging at the draw string on her scrub pants and she felt panic swell in her once more. She started clawing and crying, screaming and kicking. He was stronger, faster...determined. She felt her pants yanked down, below her hips, the cold concrete digging into her sensitive flesh. She continued to bite, kick, and scream, fighting to protect herself.

Then suddenly, shockingly, he was gone. She opened her eyes, scrambling back as she pulled at her pants. She felt her back against the wall, her entire body trembling with horror. She quickly wiped at the tears blinding her, trying to assess the situation. She saw a larger figure, far larger than the young male, standing between her and her attacker.

"You got what you wanted, fuck off."

The young male hesitated but then grabbed his discarded skateboard and ran off, her wallet in his hand. Her brain processed the need to cancel her credit cards, although they were pretty much maxed out anyway. Her scrubs were ruined, she could see holes where her skin had been scraped. She'd have to replace the scrubs...

She figured the absurd thoughts running through her mind were the result of shock or panic, considering she still sat on the ground, her back against the wall, her body trembling violently. She wasn't sure what to do next, so she decided to watch the large figure, hoping for a clue.

"Yea, a woman was attacked. She's on Walnut at the bus stop on 8th. Nevermind my name."

She watched the figure snap a cell phone shut. She still wasn't sure if her rescuer was male or female. The figure was tall and...large. Not muscular, but big-boned, broadly built...large. Dressed in a green tank top and fatigue bottoms, the bottom of the pants tucked into black boots. The figure knelt in front of her.

"Hey, you okay? I called the cops."

The voice registered. Female, although deep and throaty. Like someone who smoked two packs a day. The face was somewhat flat and colored a beautiful bronze. The eyes were slanted, almost like an Asian person's, and oddly enough, gray. A dark, smoky gray. The eyebrows were dark, thick and unruly, pretty much like the woman's short afro, the nose was crooked, the lips lush and thick. The woman reached out and shook her shoulder.

"Hey, say something so I can go."

"Y-You're leaving before they come?"

"I can't wait. I got work."

"But it's one in the morning."

The woman raised a brow, "yeah, and?"

Robbie shook her head, realizing how invasive and rude she was being. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I think I'm shook up."

The woman didn't respond, standing and holding out a hand. Robbie took it, the soft flesh of her palm brushing intimately against the rough, calloused hand belonging to the woman. The woman pulled her to her feet easily.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I didn't even see anyone else around. Thank you. I think he was going to—...Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I gotta go."

The woman turned and began to walk away before Robbie could find her voice.

"Please." It was a pitiful plea, weak and pathetic to her own ears, but she couldn't help herself. She saw the woman pause before turning back to face her.

"I'm gonna be late."

"Please. I can't stay here alone. Please. I'm sorry to ask, but...please."

An uncomfortable silence passed between them and Robbie held her breath, hoping. Finally the woman walked back to her side, once again flipping open her cell phone.

"Hey, it's Shy. Tell Adam I'm gonna be later. Yea, I know, can't help it."

Shy ended the call and leaned back against the bricks beside Robbie.

"You get me fired and I'm gonna have to sue you."

Robbie smiled. It was a lame attempt at a joke, but she appreciated the effort.

"I'm really sorry. And thanks again. I don't know what I was thinking, I just—"

"They tell you to fight back, but it's just stupid. It just pisses them off. He mighta left after he had your wallet if you hadn't tried to stab him with your keys."

Robbie sighed, "yea, you're probably right. I don't—"

She fell silent, the woman's words slowly registering.

"You watched him mug me?" She asked softly, her tone failing to reflect the building anger.

"Well, you seemed to be okay until you tried to hit him. I was just gonna mind my business and keep going."

Robbie gasped, "are you kidding? You were gonna let him assault me and just go about your business?" Her voice was tight, she could hear both the fear and anger in it.

"Look, I'm no fucking cop. Not my job to serve and protect."

Robbie pushed away from the wall and turned to face the woman squarely, ignoring the fact that the woman towered over her by 6 or 7 inches.

"You asshole! How can you say that? I could never witness a crime and just keep going!"

"Hey, don't get all hysterical. I did save your ass."

"God, what an asshole you are! Where's your sense of social responsibility? Where's your humanity?!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs, her voice reverberating off the windows of the dark, silent buildings, but she didn't care. She was appalled, she was enraged...she was shaking like a leaf and ashamed that she was berating the woman who had just saved her.

She dropped to her knees suddenly and the dam burst, the tears flowing freely, her breathing shallow. She felt light headed, nauseous, her heart racing, her vision blurred. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she didn't feel well.

The woman reached down to bend her over with little effort.

"Breathe through your nose, slow. No, slow. That's it...good. Again...that's it. One more time...good...okay? You okay?"
"I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. Thank you, thank you so much—"

"Yeah, you said that already."

She heard the sirens from a police car as it approached and the woman stood.

"I gotta go."

"Wait—"

But she was already walking away. Robbie bent over again, taking a few more deep breaths as the police car pulled to a stop in front of her.

***

"Hey Shy, finally made it?"

She nodded in the direction of her manager. She had no problems with the guy. He left her alone and that's what she craved. She maneuvered the boxes she was assigned to unpack closer to the shelf and set about restocking. She didn't mind working at the local upscale grocery store as a stocker. It allowed her to work at night and work alone. It was also one of the only jobs available to her after she was released from prison. And it paid enough for her to manage her rent and her mother's nursing home bills. Well, that was a bill that she didn't have to worry about anymore after tonight.

She wondered if she should have called out tonight. Was she supposed to feel grief? Depression? Fear that she was officially alone at the age of 37? She didn't feel any of those things. She didn't feel much of anything. Her mother had been a nasty, cold-hearted woman. A woman who demanded that Shy kiss her feet simply because she'd given birth to her. Perhaps Shy would have been more grateful if the demand had not always been followed by regrets about a missed abortion opportunity. Instead, her relationship with her mother had led her to runaway enough times that she'd been sent to a juvenile detention facility for it. It was in juvie that she'd met up with Terese. Once she was released at 18, she and Terese set about creating havoc in Philadelphia with their gang banging until she wound up in prison for 5 to 10. Armed robbery. After that stint, she realized she didn't want to spend her life in and out of prison. She decided to get her shit together.

And although she didn't care for the woman that gave birth to her, the woman who hadn't sent her a letter or a dime while she was inside, she'd felt it was her duty to pay for the woman's care during her old age since her mother had no one else. Her mother was an only child and her parents had died years ago. And Shy's father? Well, he'd disappeared before Shy was even born. Her mother had no friends and no money. Who else was going to do it?

But instead of feeling the sadness she was sure typically accompanied the death of a parent, she felt relieved that she no longer had to pay for the nursing home. It wasn't one of the best, but it had still been expensive. And when they'd called to ask her about "arrangements" for her mother, she'd asked them about the cheapest way to dispose of the body. She opted for cremation and told them she didn't want the ashes.

It was pretty much the way she dealt with the end of every relationship. Her last lover? She'd given her $500 and told her to fuck off. That had been two years ago. Rosalyn hadn't been a bad person, just a greedy, manipulative, lying, cheating self-centered bitch...like her mother. In fact, most of her lovers reminded her of her mother. She'd decided some time ago it was better to be alone than to deal with anyone else like that. She wasn't sure why she hadn't stuck with that decision for Rosalyn. Better to be alone than to find your woman fucking some other asshole in your bed.

She discarded the box she'd just emptied and pulled the next one closer. She didn't mind this tedious work. When she went home in the morning, she left the job behind. She could sleep, eat a couple of hot dogs or a bowl of cereal and basically do whatever she wanted. Lately, that hadn't been anything more than sleep and drink bottle after bottle of cheap scotch. But even that beat spending time with anyone else.

The image of the attractive, feisty damsel-in-distress appeared in her mind for a moment, but she cast it aside. She had no space or time in her life for anyone right now. She just wanted to wallow in...whatever the fuck she wallowed in day after day.

***

Robbie was snuggled beneath a thick comforter in her bed a few hours later, the phone's receiver cradled in the crook of her neck. She'd been on the phone with her friend Janet since she arrived home after wasting time with the police. She couldn't identify the person who had assaulted her, she hadn't mentioned the woman that helped her, and since the man had only stolen ten dollars, it was hardly a pressing case for the cops.

"Robbie? You still there?"

"Yea, sorry, just a little flighty still."

"Uh, I think you're entitled. Are you going to call the social worker they gave you a card for?"

Robbie sighed, "I don't know J, maybe. Nothing happened."

"Bullshit Robbie. Something pretty horrible happened and you need to talk about it."

Robbie agreed silently, but she didn't feel like putting it into words right now. Instead, she glanced at the clock and winced.

"It's 8am J, I have to get some sleep or I'll be fried for work this evening."

"You're still going in? Are you kidding me? You need to take a couple of days off."

"Nah, I need to keep busy or I'll go nuts. Oh, and I better cancel my bank card and my Visa."

"Yea, and try to get some sleep. Call me later."

"Okay, and thanks for keeping me company."

"No prob. Bye."

She disconnected the call and stared up at the ceiling. She probably should talk to someone, she was pretty badly shaken up. She'd opted not to call her sister or her mother, they would just worry and considering they lived in Chicago, what was the point? She sighed and stood, rummaging through a desk drawer filled with old bills. She located her bank statement and credit card bill, placing the calls to cancel the cards and order new ones. Luckily, there were no odd charges made to her bank card. Guess there was one advantage to being attacked in the middle of the night, she thought.

She lay down again, but was afraid to close her eyes. She saw her attacker when she did, felt his hands on her, yanking her pants down, pushing her legs apart...she shook her head and decided she would skip sleep for now. She had plenty of errands to run and maybe that would exhaust her enough to sleep for a few hours before her shift started.

She stood under the hot spray of the shower for a long time. It was her third shower, but it didn't wash the feeling of his hands away. She scrubbed and scrubbed, then toweled off and dressed in sweats. Yeah, she needed to get out and keep busy. That was much better than lying around and dwelling on what had happened.

*

She had no choice but to re-tell the story over and over again once she arrived at work, mostly because of the bruise on her cheek. After the fourth time, it was almost as if it had happened to someone else and she was just passing on some gossip. Once things died down a bit and she started handing out her meds, she felt better. It was nice to have so many people concerned about her, but it was also exhausting having to relive the experience each and every time. She sighed, collecting the meds for the next room and entering with a brisk knock before she realized it was Miss Paula's room. The bitter old woman who had died the night before. She was about to leave when she noticed someone gathering Paula's personal effects and shoving them into a large garbage bag. The person's back was to her.

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

When the person turned, Robbie's breath caught in her chest. It washer. From the night before. The person who had rescued her. She dropped the small plastic cup in her hand, the pills spilling to the floor. The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment before Robbie collected herself.

"What areyoudoing here?"

The woman raised a brow, "what areyoudoing here?"

Robbie thought it was pretty obvious, given the navy blue scrubs she wore. "I work here. Your turn."

"My mother died yesterday, I'm tossing her shit."

Robbie knelt to pick up the cup and pills, shoving them into one of her pockets. The woman had turned her back to her again and continued shoving stuff into the garbage bag. Robbie wracked her brain for the woman's name, but it escaped her.