Change in Plans Read online

  She looks over to Dyton who is frowning at her. He tugs on the brim of his newsboy cap to show her he’s not happy. She smiles letting him know it was worth the wait. She walks over to his tent and buys an apple. The merchant smiles as she walks around the tent to the back side. Then an argument breaks out. Dyton’s voice sounds through the market, loud enough to get every onlooker’s attention.

  “That was my apple! I was going to buy that one, all of these other ones are bruised! Didn’t you see me reaching for it, why did you give it to her!?” The merchant, a small weasel-like man, frantically offers him another apple, but he grabs it from the man and throws it. The apple goes flying up over the tent and rolls down the side where Tita jumps to catch it. She then walks up to a table, two away from the one Dyton’s at. As the merchant at her table and all of the people around stare at Dyton, she starts to stuff her bag. The merchant at her table glances at her, so she stops and looks in the general direction of Dyton. She then mutters something to a stranger with an annoyed look. He turns back to the scene, and she continues her looting.

  She walks away from the market and glances back at Dyton. The merchant has given him five apples and a pouch of flour, anything to get him to stop yelling as it might attract some police. “Thank you!” he yells at the merchant. Then to the crowd that he’d gathered, “What are you all waiting for?!” he yells. He takes a bite out of an apple and stares at them all. “Now if you all don’t mind, I’ll be on my way,” and he walks away.

  Tita walks over to an alley, leading into the open streets of New York. She passes dead horses, running soldiers, and groups of school boys playing games in the alleys. That’s where Dyton should be, she thinks, whereas, she should be working. Tita had just turned 17; and, at her age in 1944, she should be working as a seamstress or a waitress, thinking about clothes, fashion, and boys. The only boy she could think about was an 11-year-old named Dyton. When she thought about him, she was thinking about keeping him well fed, and hoping World War II ended before he wanted to run off to war.

  After watching her father die from war, Dyton would never join the military as long as she was alive. And even if she wasn’t, she would find a way to keep him out. Somehow.

  Tita glances in at one of the shop windows and looks at her reflection. Her brown hair is tucked into her cap; her face is fairly clean with only a few smudges. She wears a pair of stained brown slacks and an olive green shirt that’s in need of washing and ironing. Tita glances around at the other girls that walk by her in their pretty dresses and clean jackets. She looks back down at her cloths, the mud-stained boots that her slacks are tucked into, the brown jacket, and gloves with holes in them.

  She’s still better dressed than some of the orphans she knows.

  Dyton joined up with Tita during her observation of her appearance without her knowing. “Hey,” he says nudging her with his elbow. “You okay?” he asks concerned.

  Tita looks down at him. He’s about a foot shorter than she is; but he won’t be for long, since he’s been going through a growth spurt.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Although, I think you need to be checked out; you started to sound a little crazy there at the end.” She smiles, as he blushes.

  “Thought it would be a good touch,” he says shyly.

  “Oh, it was. You did a mighty fine job Dyton. Look what I got,” she says, handing him the pouch.

  “Wow. Good job,” he says.

  “Couldn’t have done it without your brilliant acting skills,” she says, draping her arm around his shoulders.

  Tita and Dyton keep walking down the street until they hit their safe haven, an abandoned shoe factory.

  They walk down an alley to the end, and to the left is a door chained shut with a large bolt lock. The first time they had come here they wasted a good hour trying to break the lock before noticing a small air vent big enough for them to fit through.

  Inside the warehouse it was old and dingy, all that you’d expect from an abandoned shoe factory. There was the main room which had a giant loft that went up to three floors. You could see the open side of the second and third stories from the entrance. Offices and storerooms made up the second and third floors, and the rest was the actual factory. The loft was cluttered with newspapers and deformed shoes that were pushed up against the side of the walls, so it seemed relatively clean. There were a couple of old beds in the basement that Tita and Dyton had hauled up to the loft to call their own.

  Covering the entire east wall were rows of rusty lockers.

  About a year ago, when they first discovered the place, Tita had pried open a couple of lockers with a stray crowbar. They were empty then, but one was now filled to the top with scavenged food.

  Another locker held extra clothes and the little money they had, $12.73. They’d been saving up for the lucky day when they could buy their way out of New York and go somewhere safer.

  Tita opens up the food locker and stuffs in the supplies they had scavenged that day, and then tosses an apple to Dyton who devours it greedily.

  “Take a breath Dyton, geez,” she says, grinning as she starts to take off her boots.

  “Oh, I forgot to show you, here,” says Tita, as she throws him the ruby necklace. He catches it as he lies down on his bed while gnawing on the apple core.

  “Wow that’s nice. Looks expensive; how much you think we can get for it?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure, at least $20.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah, you know Dyton, I was thinking that maybe we should get out of New York. I could get a job, and then everything would be different.”

  He thinks over the idea and throws the necklace back. “I guess that would be a good idea; where were you thinking?” he asks.

  “I was kinda thinking D.C.,” says Tita, as she stashes the necklace into her back pocket and leans against a support beam.

  “Washington. Why D.C.?” he asks, looking up at her.“Good a place as any, right? Besides, things are a lot cheaper there and we could start fresh, live a real life,” she says.

  He nods and thinks about it for a moment. “I guess. But why D.C. of all places?” he asks.

  Tita purses her lips, she knew she would need to tell him someday, or at least part of what had happened that day. He knew their parents were dead, he just didn’t know what their mother had told Tita about their parents or about their grandfather. That was part of the reason why they came to America in the first place, to meet up with him, but then she changed her mind.

  Tita looks down, she should tell him about her locket, about their grandfather, about the letter; but, after finding out who their parents really were, did she really want Dyton to know that? So Tita had come up with the decision to just forget about her past. If she went and saw her grandfather, she would just be making her parents’ mistakes hers. But she didn’t know everything, the letter left quite a few unanswered questions. Even so, she still wasn’t going to go see her grandfather. Her decision was final.

  “Just because D.C. would be better than New York, and I’m kind of getting sick of this place,” she lies.

  “Yeah I guess so, I mean it would be nice for a change of scenery,” he says, looking up at the rust covered ceiling.

  “Exactly.”

  Tita still can’t help having some curiosity about the people who killed her parents. How that man, Ace, had so mercilessly shot her mother and then promised to kill them next. But then there was that kid, why hadn’t he pointed her out? What was the point in letting her live? Too bad it will always be a mystery, thinks Tita.

  “Alright, D.C. would be nice; but, one problem, how do we get there, we’re broke?” Dyton says.

  “I know how to find some quick cash,” says Tita

  “Where?” Dyton asks.

  Tita holds up the necklace.

  3

  “I want to come in,” says Dyton.

>   The two of them wait in an alley outside the jewelry store with the ruby necklace safely stored in Tita’s front pocket.

  “No, you wait out here. No offense, but people associate young boys with trouble, so you, stay,” says Tita, as she begins to walk to the front of the building.

  “I’m not a dog,” he says, but he stays put.

  Tita walks to the front of the store and pushes through the glass door and a bell sounds in the back.

  She takes in the room with one sweeping glance. Cases of various rings cover the right side of the room, necklaces and bracelets cover the front, and earrings, to the left, and also a police officer. He leans against the necklace case talking to the store clerk which is where she needs to be. An old geezer stands looking at earrings and comparing prices.

  Why did there have to be a police officer? Thieves and the authorities don’t mix very well; and yet, here was one right when she needed to make a deal. Tita walks up to the counter and looks at the merchandise. The clerk stops his conversation with the officer and walks over to her.

  “Hello miss. What can I do for you? Are you looking to buy anything specific?” he asks. The clerk is a tall thin man with thick rimmed glasses that look like they’ll fall off his nose at any given moment, and no hair; whether by choice or the hard reality of life.

  “Actually, I was hoping that I might be able to sell an item,” says Tita.

  The clerk frowns.

  “I’m sorry miss but we’re no longer buying.”

  “Oh, well, you see my little brother, he, he’s very sick.” Tita waits for a few tears and, when they come, she lays them on thick. “He has polio and we can’t pay the doctor anymore so my mother said to bring this.” Tita takes out the necklace and shows the clerk. The clerk takes it in his hand and examines it.

  “It’s my mother’s, she said that I should be able to get some money for it.” Tita takes it back and clutches it to her chest. “Please,” she says letting her voice crack. The clerk thinks it over, how can he not help a girl whose brother has polio?

  “Let me talk to my boss, I’m sure he’ll make an exception,” he says.

  “Oh, thank you,” she says, as she wipes a few tears off her cheek as he walks into a back room. She hears footsteps to her right and looks up. The officer walks over to her and leans on the case.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your brother,” he says. He’s a bulky man, maybe 240-250 pounds; he seems in his early thirties, brown hair, and pale cold blue eyes. But all that seems to vanish when her eyes land on his gun strapped to his hip.

  “Name’s Chive, Jake Chive,” he says as he extends a hand. She lightly touches her hand to his, and then takes it back quickly. “And yours?”

  “Amanda,” she says and leans to the left to see if the clerk is almost done.

  “That’s a very pretty necklace,” he says, as he peers closer.

  “Thank you, it was my mother’s,” she says tersely.

  “Was your mother’s? I thought you said she told you to sell it?” he asks. “Actually, that looks very familiar,” he says, as he looks closer.

  Tita starts to rub her locket trying to calm her racing heart. He doesn’t know that you stole it, how could he? Besides I stole it from a black market; if something was stolen, no merchant in his right mind would tell an officer.

  “It is my mother’s; it just won’t be any more if I do sell it.” Tita lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, when the clerk returns.

  “Good news, the boss said I could give you $20 for it,” he says with a smile.

  “Really? Oh good.” She tries to put on a smile and keep up her act.

  “Well once I told him your situation, he understood. So here you go.” The clerk gives her a $20 bill and she hands over the necklace and takes the money.

  “Thank you,” she says quickly, and starts to walk out of the store.

  “Wait a minute, I do know that necklace. That’s the one that Rob said was stolen from his tent,” says the officer.

  Tita starts to run for the door. She then falls as she runs into the other woman in the store; the woman lands on top of her with a shrill scream, as the two of them fall to the floor.

  Tita starts to struggle trying to get the woman off of her and make a run for it. He knows! He knows I stole it! She frantically thinks as she starts to get up but then is pushed back down. Officer Chive puts a restraining hand on her shoulder and holds her down.

  “I knew I had seen that necklace somewhere. Rob had filed a report.” I can’t go to jail. I just can’t; what would happen to Dyton, who would take care of him? She starts to struggle against him trying to get free. The officer looks up at the clerk still behind the counter, “James, call for a squad.” The clerk quickly nods, his eyes wide, and dashes into a back room. With sudden energy Tita lashes out, a fist connects with his jaw and he tumbles backward. She stumbles onto her feet and runs past the fallen officer and enraged woman.

  She runs out of the store and into Dyton. He has a startled look on his face, “I heard screaming, what happened?” he asks.

  “Not now.” She grabs his arm and starts running down the alley to the next street.

  “Stop! Stop, you thief!” They both quickly glance back to see the officer pursuing them.

  “Come on!” she yells, as she pulls Dyton faster. They burst out into the other street and she looks left and right, trying to get her bearings. The police station is just two blocks away; more police will be there any second.

  “Hold it right there!” the officer yells as he catches up; in the distance sirens blare to life. Tita quickly pulls him to the right and dashes down the street. She pushes her way through crowds of people, making sure to hold onto Dyton at the same time. When she pushes past an old man, she sees police cars up ahead coming straight for them.

  “Go back, Dyton, go back.” She pushes against him and pushes her way back toward the lone officer.

  “Wait, what, why?” Dyton pulls back on her hand. “No we need to go this way, toward the warehouse.” Suddenly, Dyton’s hand slips out of hers as people push in on them.

  “Wait, Dyton!” She tries pushing her way back out, but is then thrown to the ground; she looks up to see Jake Chive standing over her.

  “Stay down, you’re under arrest sweetheart.” He tries to catch his breath as he searches over the crowd probably looking for Dyton. The side of his face is swollen and red, the makings of a bruise. He looks back down at her and catches her glance. He grins.

  “Assaulting a police officer is a felony. I’m taking you in; turn over.” She complies, and lays face first on the ground and feels a boot planted on her back. The sound of sirens start to amplify, she doesn’t have much time. When she hears the sound of handcuffs clinking together she knows her time has come. She waits for the pressure on her back to let off a bit; when it does, she rolls over and grabs his foot. She hooks her foot around his other leg and pulls it out from under him; he lets out a startled gasp as he falls hard on his back.

  She stumbles back onto her feet and pushes through a staring crowd. When she sees an alley that goes through to the next street she takes it. She stops when she’s half way through and looks back. She needs to find Dyton; sure they’ve been separated before, but they had planned it. More than likely he would head for the warehouse; but, what if he stayed behind and was looking for her? The officer could recognize him and arrest him, then what?

  A hand suddenly locks on her shoulder; she whirls around and raises a fist intending to punch, but doesn’t.

  “Wait!” A cringing Dyton has his hands covering his face.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Tita lowers her fist as he lowers his hands that cover his face. She pulls him into a hug and holds him there for a good minute. She only reluctantly lets go when he pulls free from her grasp.

  “Next time you just follow m
e,” she says, as she glares at him.

  “Well, hopefully, there won’t be a next time; but, yes, I will just follow you. Now what the heck happened?”

  4

  “How much have you told him about the mission?” asks Michael. Isaac looks up from the papers in his hand.

  “You mean the baby Brother?” he asks exasperated. Michael nods nervously, he knows he’s not supposed to ask questions when it concerns Isaac’s brother.

  “Only what he needs to know. We told him that these two can help him find the man who killed our father, which was incentive enough.” Isaac glances back down at the papers; he sighs and sets them on his desk and gets up from his chair to straighten his jacket.

  “Let us see him off,” he mutters and walks out of his office. Michael walks behind him as Isaac makes his way through the building. People stop what they are doing when he walks by and stand at attention. Once he passes, they continue unpacking the boxes that clutter each room. Their relocation to New York was impromptu, to say the least, but it had to be done.

  Two men stand guard at the double doors that lead to the outside driveway. When he gets within five feet, they each open a door. An automobile is waiting, as bags are loaded into the trunk by three other men.

  “Isaac!” His brother comes running up to him excitedly. “We’re almost ready to head out,” he says, as he glances around and then pulls Isaac to the side. “I know the plan and all; but once this is complete, you’re sure everything will go back to the way it was?” he asks worriedly.

  “All in due time Brother. You just need to find the assets and convince them to take you along. You know what all is planned for this so just go along with any surprises, alright?” Isaac pats him on his shoulder reassuringly.

  “Yeah, sure. But, what surprises? I know what I’m supposed to tell them and how I’m supposed to convince them, but what else is there?” he asks, now even more unsettled than before.