“Thank God, ” the dentist said as he stared up at the fast-approaching Jayhawk. “We’ve been found! And it’s a good thing because it doesn’t look to me as if we’re moving at all–the crab pot is right here next to the bateau and it would be farther away from us by now if we were moving. ”
“I can’t believe the nerve of them to so blatantly fish in the crab sanctuary, ” the Coast Guard engineer said, shaking his head.
The pilot steadied the helicopter into a low hover that whipped up a whirlpool of water around the bateau. The two stranded men lowered their heads and covered their eyes, their clothing flapping like a scarecrow in a hurricane as the rescue basket was lowered.
Cruz Morales also needed to be rescued and was becoming desperate. Maybe he should turn himself in to the authorities. At least he could get out of the chilly morning and eat a hot meal. He was exhausted from walking around Richmond’s West End, having wisely decided to ditch his car since all the police in Virginia and the military seemed to be looking for him. On top of everything else, he worried that he was going to be blamed for the 7-Eleven robbery and murder he had witnessed late last night.
Cruz had never committed a violent crime, but as he wandered around the University of Richmond campus pretending to be a student, he began to plot and think thoughts that alarmed him. All he had to do was find someone he could overpower–a woman, especially one who didn’t look athletic or assertive–and he could scare her into giving him money and the keys to her car. Then Cruz would flee, ditch that car (as soon as possible), and then steal another one so he could get back to New York. Or better yet, he reasoned as he approached a small squat brick building in a wooded area near a lake in the heart of the campus, he could abandon the car at the Amtrak station and take the train home.
A sign in front of the brick building said BAPTIST CAMPUS MINISTRY. Because Cruz couldn’t read English beyond a second-grade level, he made the mistake of assuming that Baptist was close enough to Baptista to suggest that maybe someone inside spoke Spanish. He ran his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his teeth with his coat sleeve, trying to tidy himself up a bit, and his heart picked up speed. He opened the front door at the very moment Barbie Fogg was walking a female student to the waiting area, where there was a coffee table piled with magazines and an abundance of silk plants that Barbie had picked up for a song at neighborhood yard sales.
“I can only imagine, ” Barbie was sympathizing with the student, who had acne. “I’ve always had dry skin, so blemishes have never been a problem, but I can certainly understand how you feel. Just give my doctor a try and I just know he can help. ”
“I sure hope so, Mrs. Fogg. Like I said, it’s all I think about, and I’m so down on myself. ”
Neither woman paid any attention to Cruz, who quickly sat on a sofa and absorbed himself in a magazine he could not comprehend.
“My mother used to always say that soap does the trick. You dab Ivory soap on the problem areas and it helps dry them out, ” Barbie went on, patting the young lady’s shoulder. “I’ve never tried it because it would not be helpful in my case. Maybe a peel would do the trick. ”
“A peel?”
“My doctor does chemical peels. Ask him about it. ”
“I sure will. Thank you so much, Mrs. Fogg. It helps just to, you know, talk to somebody. ”
“I’m the world’s biggest believer in girlfriends talking, ” Barbie agreed with feeling. “And don’t you worry about none of these college boys asking you out. One of these days you’ll find your prince and live happily ever after–with beautiful skin!”
Barbie felt a heaviness settle over her as she said words that rang hollow in her soul. That girl was never going to have beautiful skin. Already it was pitted and dented with angry red and purple scars and would certainly require laser surgery if there was ever a hope of undoing years of damage. As for living happily ever after, Barbie didn’t know of anyone who could honestly make such a claim. Life with Lennie was flat and disconnected, and Barbie couldn’t wait for a moment of quiet this morning so she could write another letter to her NASCAR lover.