Tales of the City 08 - Mary Ann in Autumn

bag didn’t stir.
    “I met you down by the freeway last week. I gave you some money.”
    “There’s nobody there,” said Otto.
    “You don’t know.”
    “If she’s sleeping, then I wouldn’t disturb her.”
    Shawna moved closer. “Leia?”
    “Don’t, Shawna.”
    She was reaching for the garbage bag when it flew back of its own accord, fanning a rotten-sweet stench into her nostrils. The person whose home she’d just invaded sprang up like a crazed jack-in-the-box, making Shawna yelp. It wasn’t Leia, though; it was a pockmarked Hispanic guy in a stocking cap.
    “Shit. I’m so sorry. I was looking for Leia.”
    He propped himself up on one elbow. “What you want with her?”
    “Just to help.”
    “She’s down the alley. I’m saving her place.”
    Shawna shuddered to think that this wilted cardboard coffin required “saving” for anyone, but she knew the guy was telling the truth. She had just spotted Leia’s YOUR MAMA WOULD GIVE A DAMN sign in the weeds behind the box.
    “Which alley?” asked Otto, stepping forward.
    The man pointed across the street. “Over there next to the blue beer sign. But don’t go down there.”
    “Why not?”
    “Just don’t.” The man lay down again, pulling the plastic bag over himself.
    Shawna turned to Otto. “We have to.”
    “No, we don’t.”
    “Well, I am.” She strode across the lot, stepped over the concrete-block wall, then turned back to Otto. She realized she’d put this peace-loving guy in a terrible spot, and, most of all, she didn’t want it to look like she was testing his loyalty. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’ll be careful. I just wanna look.”
    She crossed the street and walked half a block to the mouth of the alley. She could hear Otto’s footsteps behind her—or what she assumed were his footsteps—but she didn’t look back for fear of engaging him again. This was her craziness, not his.
    The alley was barely ten feet wide and lit only by a window in the neighboring residence hotel. Even from out on the sidewalk it stank of piss. Someone halfway down the alley was sitting on the ground under a blanket, rocking rhythmically back and forth. In the far distance another figure, this one only in silhouette, was pressed against a wall with odd formality, like someone about to be executed. His stillness was mesmerizing; it took Shawna a while to notice that someone was kneeling in front of him.
    “She’s got a trick,” whispered Otto, slipping his arm around her waist.
    “Jesus!” She jumped more than she would have liked.
    “That’s good. Your reflexes still work. C’mon.”
    “Wait.”
    “I mean it, Shawna. No more of this. I’m manning up here.”
    She turned to him with a crooked smile. “Really?”
    “If you wanna get killed over a blow job in an alley—”
    “Shhhh.” She took his arm to silence him. “We’re leaving, okay? We can wait for her back at the box.”
    “We’re not waiting anywhere. We’re heading straight back to—”
    The end of that thought was amputated by a scream from the alley.
    “Fuck,” murmured Shawna, swiveling to look down the murky passageway. The silhouetted figures at the end had now become a single writhing mass. The person under the blanket was yelling “shut up” repeatedly, like a mantra, still rocking back and forth.
    Then came another scream, even more horrible than the first, prompting Otto to sprint down the alley toward the sound. “Wait,” yelled Shawna. “Be careful.”
    I dragged the poor guy here , and now he’s going to be killed.
    She headed into the alley, though more cautiously than Otto had. “We’re calling the police!” she yelled. “Leave her alone!” She hoped this wouldn’t further inflame the situation, but it was all she could think to do. Then she heard the abrasive clatter of an overturning garbage can and watched as a man bolted into the street at the other end of the alley. To her abject horror, her boyfriend was running after him. “Otto, don’t!”
    For one eerie moment Leia was nowhere to be found. Then Shawna rolled away the garbage can and saw the figure lying in the shadows. She knelt next to it and listened for signs of life, taking the woman’s hand in hers.
    “Leia?”
    A guttural groan.
    “Are you all right?”
    “Who the fuck are you?”
    “Never mind. Just a friend. Can you sit up?” She slid her hand under Leia’s back only to hit something syrupy and warm and yank it away again.
    “Owww,” screamed