Finding Jeena by Miralee Ferrell

Author:Miralee Ferrell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kregel Digital Editions

Three hours later, dusk crept up, and Jeena’s resolve weakened. She sat on a bench near the street. Maybe she could hop a bus, ride it as far as it would take her, and hope for the best. She scowled, disgusted at herself. She was an intelligent woman, but no one could tell it these past few days. Hunger and fatigue did strange things to a person’s mind. Working at a fast-food joint sounded good right now—at least they might offer meals with the job.

Could she really handle spending another night outside? What if the man who’d stolen her suitcase hadn’t been a wino? What if Charles had sent him, hoping to get even with her for testifying against him? Maybe the bum had been sent to hurt her but lost his nerve and taken the bag instead. She shivered and rubbed her arms, chilled at the thought. Charles was capable of that, but could exhaustion be driving her imagination? She wasn’t certain what was real anymore.

She unzipped her bag, pulled out a heavy woolen sweater, and slipped it over her head. Another night in the park might be free, but the danger and isolation of last night didn’t increase its appeal. She had to get out of here and find a safe place to sleep, if only for one night. She didn’t have to make a commitment. If the shelter let her stay tonight, she’d get her bearings and start over tomorrow. One good thing about the shelter: Charles wouldn’t think of looking there.

The phone booth she’d used earlier seemed miles away. She jogged the entire way, hefting her bags and struggling to balance her load. By the time she reached it, her breath came in ragged gasps. Relax. Don’t panic. She threw her suitcase and duffel bag inside, slamming the door behind. She peered back the way she’d come and drew a ragged breath. No one appeared to be following.

Another thought slammed into her tired brain, right after she dropped her money into the slot. Tammy. Maybe just one more night? She started to dial, then hung up the phone, hearing the jingle of the quarters fall into the coin return. Her friend would be horrified at how far she’d fallen. She didn’t want anyone she knew to see her. At the shelter, she’d be anonymous. Maybe she’d get lucky, and that woman who had helped her when she donated the clothes would answer the phone. What was her name? Rachel, that was it. Funny how that had stuck in her mind.

She fished out the change and squinted at the number on the card in the dim overhead light of the booth. The tight enclosure stank. Someone must have gotten sick in it recently. Disgusting. She shivered to think what the bottoms of her bags looked and smelled like.

Ringing sounded in the receiver pressed against her ear, and she felt a moment of fear. What in the world would she say? She almost hung up. Almost, but not quite.

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