scratch and then his hand shot forward and opened.
Melissa jolted.
Sign language.
The driver looked glanced at her. Melissa glared down at her coffee while she tried to decide what to do.
Her cell phone was in the Caddy. Her purse was in the Caddy. She had spent the weekend at her sister’s house. Eva had lost her hearing when she was five-years-old. Melissa learned sign language alongside her sister all those years ago. Sometimes, when not using sign often, she failed to remember certain things. But after a whole weekend of it, she was right back in and honed on the acronym H.O.L.M.E.. She recited it to herself while the kid poured coffee for the two men from the van.
Hand shape. Orientation. Location. Movement. Facial Expression.
For the last seventy-two hours she had been signing. Then a blind man walked into the coffee shop and did the sign for a word that scared her.
Kill.
No, it couldn’t be.
She looked in time to see him brush his cheek with his index finger twice.
The sign for woman.
Then he held his palm up, aimed at his face. He twisted it around to face outward and moved it away slowly.
The sign for attitude.
What’s he saying? Kill the woman if she gives you any attitude?
“Can I help you?”
Melissa felt like she had nerves made of confetti. She lifted off her chair and was settling back down in pieces.
“I’m sorry … I meant no disrespect with my gawking.”
“It’s okay,” the driver of the van said. “Not many people see a blind man in these parts.” He leaned closer and placed a hand beside his mouth in the gesture that he was going to whisper. “Gawk all you want. He can’t tell.”
The driver stood back up to his full height, smiled wide and turned around to face the kid behind the counter who was placing two coffees down.
The clock above the kid’s head now said three minutes to midnight.
When the driver reached out to grab both cups, his jacket lifted and something reflected the light off his belt area. Melissa saw what was there and audibly gasped.
The butt of a large gun rested just under his jacket.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stop looking at them. Mind your own fucking business, Melissa.
They were going to rob the place. She was sure of it. They would kill anyone who gave them attitude. And only she knew this because she knew sign language.
How do I get out of here? How do I get the woman and the kid to safety?
The boy behind the counter was looking at her again. Melissa put on a bold face. “Where’s the woman who got me the coffee earlier? Or do I just pay you? And I need directions to Harper’s Grove.”
Half his mouth moved up and to the right in some kind of stupid smirk. “She checked out. She has left for the evening.”
Melissa looked away, gripping her warm coffee cup with both hands.
Everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be okay. I have to leave. That’s what I have to do.
The blind man and his driver edged past her and sat at the first table by the door. The boy had run around to make sure the table was clean and they were comfortable.
“Okay, you’re set then?” she heard the boy say behind her.
No one responded. They must’ve nodded. With her back to them she had no idea what they were up to.
Melissa stood, made sure there was enough money to cover her beverage and turned for the door. The boy stood beside it.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m leaving now.”
“I don’t think so,” he said.
Her stomach dropped further. “Pardon me? What did you say?” She was surprised her voice didn’t shake.
He cracked a smile. “I can’t let you leave at this hour, in that darkness.” He half-turned and gestured with his arm toward the window. “Without giving you proper directions to Harper’s Grove, now could I? My boss told me that every customer needs to leave satisfied. How else is
Melissa jolted.
Sign language.
The driver looked glanced at her. Melissa glared down at her coffee while she tried to decide what to do.
Her cell phone was in the Caddy. Her purse was in the Caddy. She had spent the weekend at her sister’s house. Eva had lost her hearing when she was five-years-old. Melissa learned sign language alongside her sister all those years ago. Sometimes, when not using sign often, she failed to remember certain things. But after a whole weekend of it, she was right back in and honed on the acronym H.O.L.M.E.. She recited it to herself while the kid poured coffee for the two men from the van.
Hand shape. Orientation. Location. Movement. Facial Expression.
For the last seventy-two hours she had been signing. Then a blind man walked into the coffee shop and did the sign for a word that scared her.
Kill.
No, it couldn’t be.
She looked in time to see him brush his cheek with his index finger twice.
The sign for woman.
Then he held his palm up, aimed at his face. He twisted it around to face outward and moved it away slowly.
The sign for attitude.
What’s he saying? Kill the woman if she gives you any attitude?
“Can I help you?”
Melissa felt like she had nerves made of confetti. She lifted off her chair and was settling back down in pieces.
“I’m sorry … I meant no disrespect with my gawking.”
“It’s okay,” the driver of the van said. “Not many people see a blind man in these parts.” He leaned closer and placed a hand beside his mouth in the gesture that he was going to whisper. “Gawk all you want. He can’t tell.”
The driver stood back up to his full height, smiled wide and turned around to face the kid behind the counter who was placing two coffees down.
The clock above the kid’s head now said three minutes to midnight.
When the driver reached out to grab both cups, his jacket lifted and something reflected the light off his belt area. Melissa saw what was there and audibly gasped.
The butt of a large gun rested just under his jacket.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stop looking at them. Mind your own fucking business, Melissa.
They were going to rob the place. She was sure of it. They would kill anyone who gave them attitude. And only she knew this because she knew sign language.
How do I get out of here? How do I get the woman and the kid to safety?
The boy behind the counter was looking at her again. Melissa put on a bold face. “Where’s the woman who got me the coffee earlier? Or do I just pay you? And I need directions to Harper’s Grove.”
Half his mouth moved up and to the right in some kind of stupid smirk. “She checked out. She has left for the evening.”
Melissa looked away, gripping her warm coffee cup with both hands.
Everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be okay. I have to leave. That’s what I have to do.
The blind man and his driver edged past her and sat at the first table by the door. The boy had run around to make sure the table was clean and they were comfortable.
“Okay, you’re set then?” she heard the boy say behind her.
No one responded. They must’ve nodded. With her back to them she had no idea what they were up to.
Melissa stood, made sure there was enough money to cover her beverage and turned for the door. The boy stood beside it.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m leaving now.”
“I don’t think so,” he said.
Her stomach dropped further. “Pardon me? What did you say?” She was surprised her voice didn’t shake.
He cracked a smile. “I can’t let you leave at this hour, in that darkness.” He half-turned and gestured with his arm toward the window. “Without giving you proper directions to Harper’s Grove, now could I? My boss told me that every customer needs to leave satisfied. How else is
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