Dear Diary

Sept. 9

Dear Diary,

What a surprise! Guess who showed up at Trivia tonight? Mark Moore, remember him from High School? No, I didn’t either, at first. I remembered his good looks! But not where I had seen him or his name. Believe it or not, HE recognized ME first! He came over and introduced himself, and even remembered we were in French class together! As I wrote yesterday, I have been a little down since I saw Alex with Marilyn last week. You’d think he’d have the courtesy to dump me first, but no! Still, it gave me a chance to dump him. No question, I will go back to Trivia Night tomorrow, and I will be sure and dress up a little.

Oct. 3

Dear Diary,

I do not know what is wrong with that Hannah Smith. We were pretty good friends in high school, though I haven’t seen her much since then. It was nice of her to invite me to be on her trivia team last month, but as soon as Mark and I started dating, she got really negative. She thought he was “just dreamy” in high school, but tonight she told me he was a jerk and sort gave me the cold shoulder. Mark and I are going to find a different trivia team.

Oct. 4

Dear Diary,

There are a lot of trivia bars, but they were all waiting room only! Can you imagine! It was ok, because we just went to Mark’s apartment and played virtual trivia for a couple of hours. We lost, but we didn’t care, because he tried to talk me into strip trivia! Of course you can imagine what that led to! I barely had time to run home and shower before work the next day. He really is dreamy, especially in bed!

Oct. 24

Dear Diary,

Now that I am seeing Mark almost every night, he asked me if I’d like him to begin picking me up from work. We usually can’t get together until nine or after, because of his job, but my bean counters sneak out early a lot, so I can usually get off by five at the latest. Mark works for SmartShipping, one word, with one S all twirling around. They ship “valuables” he said. Jewelry, paintings, even antique furniture. His crew goes early to pack while he eats, then he drives over and picks up the items and takes them to the shipping office and checks them in. Another guy comes with us after we do the pickup, usually Sol Rodriguez. Mark says Sol is supposed to be in the truck whenever he drives, but Sol is a little older, and he wants to go home and eat with his kids and wife, so it’s usually just me and Mark for the pickup, which suits us just fine!

Nov. 3

Dear Diary,

Today I went out to Mikey’s Malts for lunch. They have fantastic chocolate malts, and I don’t feel too bad getting one because their salads are pretty good, and the calories balance off. But who should I see! That Hannah Smith, asking where I was playing Trivia now! I managed to drop Mark’s name into the conversation pretty quick, and she got all serious. I tried not to be rude at her stories about Mark, after all, he IS my boyfriend now, which I pointed out. I just told her he had changed since high school, and he wasn’t like that anymore. She obviously didn’t believe me. I intend to avoid her from now on.

Nov. 12

Dear Diary,

Sol has quit working with Mark, he says he doesn’t know why, but there is some kind of partner rotation now, and we usually have to go pick them up before we get the package. Kind of irritating, because naturally we have been having a little romance in his truck, but no more! Not with all those guys staring at me!

Nov. 26

Dear Diary,

Now that Thanksgiving is over, I am back to my usual routine. I went to my mom’s, and I invited Mark, but he had to go to his mom’s, I guess. And thank goodness we are back to the truck and his apartment!

Nov. 29

Dear Diary,

Mark says this is the Christmas rush now: lots of small packages, jewelry and even cash, he thinks. And we do drop offs as well as pickups. They found him a regular partner, Bennie Brown, everybody calls him Brownie, but Mark quickly talked him into just staying home and getting paid. Thank goodness. The guy has terrible BO and a three day beard! So glad we can be alone in the truck again. Especially on the days I don’t spend the night with him. I NEED to have some romance in the truck!

Dec. 5

Dear Diary,

Of course, the problem with having no one but Mark from the company is there are supposed to be two guys on the truck. I don’t count, because I don’t work for SmartShipping. Two guys are supposed to sign off on everything, Mark said. I asked him how that works when there is only him, and he didn’t answer, but when he went in to pick up packages I looked at the sign-off sheet. The two signatures are different, and Mark’s is always the same, but Brownie’s looks different every delivery. I think Mark, or one of the other guys, is probably signing Brownie’s name.

Dec. 7

Dear Diary,

Last night Mark asked me to start doing the driving. It makes it a lot easier for him to go in and help the other guys. I thought someone from the company was supposed to stay in the truck, but he said it was ok. If anybody asked he’d say Brownie was in the truck. I am nervous about what to do if the company makes a check, but Mark says that never happens. Still, he said I should never play the radio or answer any phone calls. I think he’s signing those sheets, but he won’t talk about it, and he gets mad if I bring it up, so I don’t mention it, especially when the other guys get in. They used to talk and joke, but they can get pretty crude, and Mark told them to shut up. I was glad, but it is kind of creepy to drive around in the dark, crowded in with a bunch of sweaty guys who just piled a lot of boxes in the back and never speak. In the dark! Sometimes the guys just hold the small boxes and nudge or wink at each other, but they never talk to me.

Dec. 14

Dear Diary,

Tonight in the truck it was kind of rough. The other guys who had been riding with us had gone ahead to pack. I thought maybe Mark would want to have some truck romance, but we had to pick up Sol, and Brownie, too. They began talking about the drop, but Mark yelled at them and they stopped. We went to a new place, a posh apartment house on the East Side. They told me to drive around to the back of the building, where there was a ramp set up for loading. I found it and parked, and the guys all jumped out. I knew something was wrong when they all pulled ski masks on, and I tried to stop Mark, but he just brushed my hand off his arm and said to wait. And be quiet. They ran in, never turned lights on, and ran out with small boxes. I took everybody to the company headquarters, and they told me to drive around back, then they all got out. Mark told me to drive the truck to his apartment and get a cab home, because he would be late. He gave me a few bills to pay for the cab. I wasn’t very happy about it, but he was rushing around, didn’t have time for me. I’m beginning to think being with him may not be such a good idea.

Dec. 15

Dear Diary,

Wow, I was right. What a terrible night. I drove to the same apartment building as yesterday. The guys went in the back door. They didn’t turn the lights on, but they wore their ski masks and had flashlights. I’m pretty sure some of them had guns, too. They had things in their hands, anyhow. What else would they have? Maybe knives?

I just waited, my hands tapping the wheel. It was so hot I rolled down the window, but it was electric and I had to turn on the truck to work it. When I turned the truck back off, I could hear a lot of noise. A man screamed and another voice yelled “Shut up!” Some doors banged and people yelled, then a window smashed. By this time I was sweating and having trouble breathing. Lights came on upstairs. Someone called, was it Mark? “Get out of here!” The back door opened and more lights came on. On the porch I could see two guys punching each other. Some of the guys, not all, jumped into the back of the truck. Mark opened my door and pushed me hard toward passenger seat. “Move over, dammit!” He started the car and hightailed it out of there. He must have been going over seventy, running red lights, dodging other cars, and running over the sidewalk whenever he turned. Sirens sounded behind us.

We were going the wrong way, away from headquarters. I asked where we were going, but he didn’t answer. He drove down towards the docks and slowed down, but at the last minute he bypassed them and headed up the old highway, toward the bay. Suddenly he slammed on the brakes and turned the car off. He gave me a hard look and jumped out, running around back and opening the roll-up door. He screamed “Get out. Move faster. I’m driving away. And if you aren’t out I swear I’ll shoot you and let your body fall out the back.” I was shivering. I opened my side door and slid out, slamming the door behind me. I rolled into the bushes. Mark got back in the truck and began screaming my name, but I just laid there, still as I could be. He drove the truck backward and forward a couple of times, then floored the accelerator and drove off.

I stayed still, hoping the other guys wouldn’t notice me. After some arguing, hollering, and fighting, one of them shot a gun into the air. The rest got silent and he told them all to go home and forget this night ever happened. “If I hear one peep from anyone about this night I’ll come after you. Now go. I don’t ever want to see or hear from any of you ever again.”

I tried to hold my sobs in, and the wind and the sea sounds must have covered them up. The guy with the gun was Brownie, I recognized his voice. He watched the others walk away, then came to the brush near me and peed, but didn’t turn his flashlight on. Thank goodness, because I was no more than ten feet from him.

I didn’t dare call a friend or a taxi or catch a bus, even if there had been one out there. I wasn’t completely lost, but I guessed I was about ten miles from my apartment, and at least five from any part of town. Nothing but this one road going through the wetlands, surrounded by water and swamp grass.

I had walked about three hours, taking one break to sit on the ground for a few minutes, when I saw some streetlights. My watch said only 12:15, but I felt like I had been walking for days. When I came to Broad Street I knew where I was. And the busses run until 1:00 a.m. here. I almost cried when I realized I had left my purse in Mark’s truck. But I had on the same jeans I wore yesterday. Had I used all the cash he gave me yesterday for the taxi or was there enough left for a bus? I searched my pockets frantically, and really did cry when I found the bills. I walked until I found a bus stop with a seat but no roof or walls and sat down to wait. It was only about twenty minutes, but I had to scream to scare off a drunk who tried to bother me. The bus was almost empty and I put in a five since I didn’t have correct change. I got out two blocks from my apartment, went to the side door and used my buried set of keys. They were behind a Christmas fern Alex had given me last year.

I took a hot bath and put on a warm and virginal nightgown. I never want to see those clothes again, or those men, and especially Mark Moore. Maybe Hannah was right. Maybe I should have forgiven Alex. I only hope the police don’t find my purse in that truck or wherever it is. Now I am sitting in my bed shivering.