Bennie shifted in the backseat as the cab turned onto her street. They pulled up in front of her house, and the cabbie finally closed his cell phone. He’d yammered away the entire ride to the city, but she’d been too preoccupied to care. She couldn’t wait to take a quick shower, change out of her absurd get-up, and go find Alice.
“I’ll run inside and get my money,” she said. They’d agreed on a fare of $300, and she had the cash in her jewelry box.
“Don’t know how you people live here, on top of each other.” The cabbie braked, and the engine shuddered into silence.
She got out of the cab and went to her neighbors, the Mackeys, to get her extra keys. She didn’t know how she’d explain to them her cuts, bruises, or tarty outfit, but no matter. She walked up their stoop, rang the bell with her splinted finger, and waited, but no answer. She rang again, but still no answer. Maybe Mary had already picked up the keys, anyway.
She climbed down the steps, went to her own house, and tried the front door. Bear knew her step, and she waited for him to start barking, but he didn’t. That must mean that Mary had taken him to work with her, so she went back to the cab, where the driver was getting out of the front seat.
“Miss, is there a problem?” he asked, worried.
“I need to call my office to get my keys. Can I use your phone?”
“I ran out of battery when we hit the city.”
“Wait here. I have another idea.” Bennie went down the street and to an alley that ran behind the row houses on the block, including hers. She knew she had an old window to the basement, and she could bust it to get in. The alley was narrow, flanked on either side by back fences, and the cobblestones that made up its floor dipped in the middle, collecting rainwater and moss.
She walked to her own fence, a brick affair that contained her patio. She jumped up and tried to reach the top with her left hand, but she fell back, wincing in pain. Her right hand hurt, and her flip-flops had almost no purchase. She tried again, jumping higher, and made it the third time, flopping over the wide ledge. She was catching her breath when she heard someone shouting.
“Hey, you!” A woman’s voice echoed across the backyards. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m calling the cops!”
“Wait, no!” Bennie raised her head, but the motion threw her off-balance, sending her falling off the wall. She landed on the cobblestones, pain arcing through her skull. Her hand throbbed, and for a minute she thought it couldn’t get any worse, until the cabbie was standing over her, his hands on his hips.
“You’re trying to beat me out of the fare! You think I’m dumb ’cause I’m country?”
“No, wait,” Bennie started to say, getting up, and the cabbie yanked her to her feet by her arm.
“I want my fare! This took up my whole day!”
“Wait, listen, I have to get into my house. There’s a window-”
“Hell, no! You’re not gettin’ away with this!” The cabbie tugged her through the alley, to the sound of nearby sirens.
“Listen, I’m a lawyer, and we can straighten this all out.”
“A lawyer? What a load of bullcrap! Is that why you dressed like that?”
“I’m telling you, you’ll get your money.” Bennie looked down the street as a Philadelphia police cruiser shot toward them, its siren blaring and its lights flashing red. The cruiser cut the siren, and two uniformed officers emerged and hustled over. One was heavy and one was thin, and she flashed on Officers Villarreal and Dayne.
“Officers,” Bennie began, “I live here, and as soon as I get in my house, I can pay this driver.”
“Bullcrap!” the cabbie interjected. “She doesn’t live here. She’s not anything she says she is. I picked her up at the police station, and she’s trying to beat me out of the fare. You ever hear of a lawyer wears sequins?”
“Both of you, relax.” The heavy cop raised his hand, then turned to Bennie. “You say you live here?”
“Yes.”
“Which house is yours?”
“That one, 2133.” Bennie pointed with her good hand. “If I can get in the back window, I can get his money.”
“I understand.” The cop nodded. “Let’s see some ID, Miss.”
“I don’t have any, on me.” Bennie considered telling him the story, but tabled it for now. “Look, if I had to, I could go to my law office, get the keys, come back, and let myself in. Maybe I should do that, instead.”
The cabbie scoffed. “Don’t let her out of your sight, Officer! She’s a liar, plain and simple. If I told you what else I think she is, I wouldn’t be the gentleman I am. She owes me three hundred dollars!”
“Three hundred?” The cop’s eyes widened under the bill of his cap. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. Let’s go downtown, folks.”