Thelma’s POV
8:00 am, the next day…
I looked into my small bag, hoping I would find some change but found NOTHING. Though my credit card was still there. So I had hope of going home even without my car.
I had prepared to leave the hospital. The pain had almost stopped completely now. I was feeling a whole lot better. Though the hospital still oozed with disinfectants on the air. It was a lot worse when I came out from the special room assigned to me. The sight of doctors and nurses rushing through the emergencies, the cries of babies in the theater, the signs of worries embellished on the faces of some people sitting in the waiting room, the cleaners mopping the floor without even raising their heads, and finally followed by the smell of different medicines. I hate meds. It made the place feel a whole lot worse.
I saw the nurse that treated me. She was behind a counter down the large hall. She gestured with her hands for me to come closer. I did. “You are set to leave?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I am.”
“Nice. Is your father coming to pick you?” she asked.
I hesitated for a while. “I don’t know.”
She nodded. “Okay, do I need to assist you in any way? Food? Transport?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“O-kay,” she said. She brought out a business card from her breast pocket. “Would you be so kind to give me a call if there is anything you notice in your body that you aren’t quite comfortable with? I promise to help.”
I stared at the white card she had brought out. “Okay. I will.” I took the card. I was hungry and angry at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to exchange long sentences. There were only two choices that I think I could take: visit the nearest restaurant, find something to eat and then go home and pack my bags and then f u c k out of the house.
“Bye,” she said.
I left the building and came out to the front which led me to the parking lot. I was lucky, the hospital was on the third floor of a thirteen-storey building apartment. When I inquired about the elevator from the security men, I was told it was under maintenance and would be repaired shortly. I wasn’t in a situation to wait. Besides nobody knew how long the ‘shortly’ would take. Moreover, I was so hungry that I needed to eat just anything. I climbed down the stairs and walked down the street. It didn’t take me long until I saw, “Have you had your Pizza today” written on an electric banner across the street. I crossed immediately. I still wore my skimpy top and my short blue jeans skirt- good for night parties, but not for a street restaurant. As I entered, many eyes were on me. I looked around for a minute, ignoring their faces. I went over to a chair and made myself comfortable. It was still morning and the shop’s AC was still blaring, watering my body with chilly sensation. The waitress came over and I stated my demands. She brought me pizza and yoghurt- not chilled in this case. I rushed down the pizza with a feral type of craving. I didn’t bother to check if anybody was watching. I digested it with the yoghurt. Sweat dripped down slowly from my face but was ragged up quickly by the cold weather. It appeared I had finished the food in a matter of minutes. I signaled the waitress and she came. I gave her my credit card so she could debit her money. She went back to the counter and brought the small POS machine with her. She took my card, jammed it in the machine, and frowned right then after.
“I am afraid ma’am,” she said, then looked at me, her eyes arched. “You have zero balance in this account.”
“What?” I asked her, shocked. “Did you check it properly?”
“I did.”
“Please, do check again,” I told her, more like begged her.
She looked at me for a while and bit her lips. She jammed in the card again but the small white paper came out. “Unsuccessful transaction,” she said. “Do you have another card with you? You are free to pay with cash.”
Someone else waved at the waitress. She looked over to the table. “I am coming,” she murmured to me. She hurried away.
My heart began to pump- faster, my fingers shook uncontrollably. I looked around me and I no longer see people’s faces. No. What I saw was a shame. Shame. A young girl like me, enthrallingly dressed, had no money to settle her bills. That was so shameful. I was thinking of what to do. An evil thought pumped up from nowhere.
Run, Thelma, run.
Running would be good. Yeah. At least, it would save me the shame that I would face. Or wouldn’t it? At least, if I sneak out, if I am lucky, I will never pay my debt. But then again, this rational part of my brain reminded me that I had already called for the waitress’s attention so in this case, it means even if I run without paying my bills, she would notice. I will be dammed too by the CCTV camera that was scattered around the hall in every corner. Shame, again. I was caged. Trapped. Lost. I checked to see if I had my phone, luckily, it was still there. I began to check who I would call for help. But again, I remembered I had no friend. The only friend I had managed to have was no more. Then, the image of my father popped up as a mental picture in my head. Jeez. How was I supposed to call him when he was the person that put me in this situation!?
Pride goes before fall, Thelma. Pride. Pride. Jeez. I cursed through my breath. He was like a tiny thread I was holding onto. He seemed like to be a solution or probably one of the only solutions I had. I inhaled deeply and exhaled thereafter. I pressed the DIAL option and waited for him to pick it up. I sat tight, phone ringing, my heart beating faster than usual. I waited and waited but he didn’t pick up the call.
I looked over to the waitress again. I tried to use my abilities. It was something that comes easily and in handy too. It wasn’t a difficult thing to do. All the tools you need if you want to hear a conversation between people more than 10 meters away are not something very hard to find. The answer is just there: a deep concentration.
I listened over to the conversation she was having with the customer that had called her. It appeared she was rounding up already. The only thing I didn’t have was time. I didn’t bother to call my father again because it would be fruitless. There was one last option I had and I didn’t believe I was about to take that alternative. But at that point, I had few or no options.
I quickly dialed Mr. Rudolph’s number. I almost froze to death when I took this hard decision. I waited for the phone to ring. I thought he wouldn’t pick up too but to my greatest surprise, he picked at once. “Huh,” he said. “Thelma?” I could almost draw a mental picture of him laughing feebly at me.
“I need your help,” I said.
He snorted. “You need what?”
“Your help.”
“And what makes you think that you are going to get it?” he asked.
“Nothing actually,” I told him. “You are the last person who I could run to.”
He laughed, more loudly this time. “You are funny, Thelma,” he said. “I never knew you were a good comedian.”
“Me too.”
He laughed again.
“Please listen to me-”
“No, you listen to me, Thelma. Do I look like your father to you?” he asked. “Any day that you need help, you call your father for it and not me. Besides, I thought you had everything you needed as a girl child? You are a billionaire’s daughter, isn’t it?” I could almost sense jealousy in his voice. “Only call my number on important business proposals and not some inconsequential personal requests. I am a very busy man. Have a wonderful day.” He hung up.
Holy cow! Why had I just done it? Why in the world did I even call him in the first place? I chewed on my lips and pressed hard my fingers on my face. I was lost of options. I was just about to put my phone inside my bag and walk straight to the waitress and tell her that I didn’t have money with me when I luckily saw the card the nurse gave me in the hospital. I allowed a rush of happiness to sip into my pounding heart. I felt relieved. I dialed the number quickly and she picked up at once.
“Hello,” she said.
I introduced myself to her without wasting time much of my time- which in this case, wasn’t on my side. I stated down my predicament to her in a rapid but orderly manner leaving out the part that includes my father. I didn’t allow her to make any transfer to my account because it could be blocked too. She told me that I should hang on. There was a sense of relief I felt. When I hung up, I saw the waitress coming toward my table. But I had already gained confidence and I didn’t shake this time.
“Hi, ehm-” I stammered. “Someone is coming to pay for my bills. You’ve got to chill, I will pay soon.” I tried to force a smile on my face.
‘You don’t need to worry” she said and smiled.
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because the gentleman over there had already paid for your bills.” She shifted her head back to a corner of the room.
I looked over but I didn’t see anyone. “I do not see any gentleman there.”
She turned and looked over. “I think he is already on his way out,” she said. “He is the one on the red shirt.”
“What?” I breathed. Who could that be? The person who had paid for my bills must have known that I needed it. But the question, how did he know? I was tense. I stood up immediately and hurried after him. Immediately I opened the door, I saw a man, tall, blonde hair, broad shoulders entering inside a red pickup truck. I tried to see his face but he didn’t turn around for me to see. I decided to call for his attention.
“Hey, you,” I shouted, ” who are you?”
He stopped in his tracks for a while. He ignored me and entered the vehicle. He fired the engine of the big pickup truck and it roared then he drove off. I wondered who he was? I was confused. Could it be that someone was stalking me? This was more than a mere coincidence, I thought. I stood outside the pizza shop staring vaguely, thinking. I heard a horn honking but I didn’t pay attention.
“Thelma,” someone called me, voice loud. “Over here.”
I looked over and I saw the nurse. She was in a white old saloon car. I walked up to her. “Have you settled the bills?” she asked me, still sitting inside the vehicle.
“Yes, someone did. Can you take me home?”
“Of course, yes.” She smiled. “Hop in.”
I crossed over to the other side and opened the door. “Let’s go.”