Chapter 6

Stepping on the sidewalk, Victoria took a deep breath of fresh, southern air. This was her first day outside since the ice storm had hit Tabor Ridge. Smiling, she lifted her arms upward, stretching them as far as they could go. She didn’t mind that the cold air burned her nose or that it stung her eyes. Happiness made her light on her feet. Feeling hope for the first time in weeks, she was glad to finally be out of her efficiency. Since arriving, she had spent the last few days watching TV, reading books, watching the ice storm from her window, and devising a plan to locate her father. According to her mother’s notes, this small town was his birthplace.

Walking along the idyllic street outside her motel, she felt warm vibes from the picturesque town. She stopped in front of a building, which emanated wonderful smells. Looking up, she saw it was some sort of eatery named McGrady’s. An eatery usually had a lot of people. People who may have knew her father.

Shading her eyes from the sun, she peered through the glass and saw a bar with several patrons and a spacious dining area with customers filling several tables. Music was playing and the place seemed to hum with energy. Gathering courage, she walked in, determined to find out if anyone knew or remembered Samuel T. Duma, Afterward, she would find the nearest grocery store and buy a local tabloid newspaper.

She quietly closed the door behind her and turned around to silence. Gulping, she looked around and met stares from the now unsmiling patronsShe quickly sidled up to the bar and slid onto the first empty stool she saw. Picking up a menu with sweaty palms, she examined its contents, aware of the curious stares pointed at her back.

“What can I get ya?”

Opening her mouth to say she needed a few more minutes, she peered over the menu and the words stuck in her throat. The menacing glare of the bartender made her say the first thing that came to mind.

“I’ll have a hamburger all the way with fries and a Pepsi.”

With a grunt the bartender snatched the menu out of her hands and walked away.

What was that all about?

Turning her head slightly, she gave a sigh of relief. The restaurant had become lively again. The customers were once again laughing, talking, and eating. Sitting quietly, she listened to the hum of conversations around her while discreetly scanning the crowd for a friendly face. Deciding no-one had the open, welcoming countenance she sought, she turned back around just as a waitress placed her food in

front of her.

“Anything else, honey?”

Encouraged by the waitress’s warm tone, she decided to go for it. Maybe she was imagining all those hostile stares.

“Do you know a man by the name of Samuel T. Duma?”

“Samuel T. Who?” came the confused response?

“Samuel T. Duma,” Victoria repeated. “I heard he’s from this area?”

Her question was met with a skeptical look.

“Ain’t no one like that ever been around here.” The waitress turned around as if looking for someone.

“Hold on, let me ask Pierre.”

Victoria watched in horror as the waitress went to the bartender with the murderous glare and pointed in her direction. She heard the waitress say “Looking for some dude with a weird name.” Her horror grew as she watched the waitress walk over to several more people loudly asking the same question while pointing in her direction: “You guys heard of a Samuel T. Duka?”

Embarrassed beyond belief, she quickly turned her attention back to her food and took a bite of the sloppy burger, trying to appear oblivious to the scene.

She was almost done forcing it down when the waitress returned.

“Honey, I done asked everybody, and nobody here knows no Samuel Duka.”

“Samuel T. Duma.”

“Who you say again?”

Shaking her head in frustration, she mumbled “Nevermind” and stood up, searching for a 20-dollar bill to pay for the food. Finding it, she handed it to the waitress and exited the restaurant as quickly as her legs could take her, not even waiting for her change. 

Barely refraining from slamming McGrady’s door, Victoria decided to head to the corner store she had noticed earlier. After being stared at like a space cadet, she was actually looking forward to going in the corner store down the street and picking up the tabloid papers. She wanted to read about the strange stories of the area. By strange she meant vampire sightings, UFO sightings, or any instances of unusual

occurrences. Picking her way down the ice-slicked sidewalk, Victoria carefully watched her steps. All she needed to top today was to slip and end up in the hospital. Crossing the street, she headed for Uncle Ray’s Corner Store. A bell tinkled as she entered. The store was definitely southern. It seemed Uncle Ray’s sold

everything and anything he could cram into his small store. She searched for a newspaper display, scanning over the five rows of junk food, can sodas, and pickled pork products before landing on the magazine and newspaper stand by the small soda fountain. Walking toward it, she scanned the contents on the shelves. Reaching the magazines and newspapers, she picked one up and started skimming it.

“Rattlesnake Man Spotted Near Tabor River,” sounded promising so she tucked it beneath the her arm under the watchful eye of the scruffy old man behind the soda fountain, who was watching her as if she were a pink-haired, prison tattooed punk, not a normal woman. Ignoring his beady stare, she continued to scan the newspapers for interesting articles.

“Three-year-old Talks to Wolves,” appeared out of the ordinary, so she added that to the first. While paying for her papers, she studied the old man and, after meeting his baleful stare, decided against asking him if he knew of her father.

After collecting the newspapers, she let the door slam behind her. To hell with politeness. What had started out as a promising day was deteriorating into a terrible she let her shades drop from the top of her head to her eye and started the trek back to her efficiency room.

Crossing the street, she entered the lobby and slid into the empty elevator before the doors shut. Exhaling, she rested against the cool elevator wall. She hoped she’d find out something, anything, soon. This trip was playing havoc with her small savings. Saving money had become a priority when her mother became terminally ill. Denying herself basic pleasures and necessary items like a car, new clothes, nights out-all for the quest to find her father and avenge her mother, had become a way of life for her. But avenge her, how? If her father was as she suspected, a supernatural being, what in the world was she going to do? There were several possibilities. One being exposing him to the world-but that may make the world look at her more closely, and she could possibly become a science experiment for some “mysterious government agency.” Or she could con him into forming a relationship with her, get money from him, then leave him without a word. But that wouldn’t make him suffer enough. If he could leave her mother without a thought, would he even be interested in forming a relationship with her? A daughter he didn’t even know about by a woman he’d abandoned without a second thought.

Victoria looked up as the elevator slowed and stopped. An older couple walked in. She watched the man press the fourth floor button. Sighing, she went back to her thoughts. The most satisfying plot she had in mind was to find a way to destroy him; either by killing him or destroying something or someone he held dear. The problem with that plan was her stomach got queasy just thinking about actually killing someone. Her mother lying deathlike in a hospital bed, frail and connected to IV’s, flashed in her mind. Her mother vomiting and wasting away throughout the long, torturous year. Shaking her head, Victoria took a deep breath, dispelling the painful memories. Her resolve strengthened. She would accomplish something even if it damned her soul. But first she had to find him. She’d figure the rest out later.

The elevator stopped, and she waited for the elderly couple to exit first. Counting to ten for patience, she slowly followed them out, then headed to her room. Opening the door, she stopped as a thought struck her. Her tattoo hadn’t burned since she’d entered North Carolina, and she hadn’t got another funny feeling since either. What was she missing?

Entering her apartment, she switched on the lights. Glancing around, her mood dipped further. While her small efficiency had everything she needed, it wasn’t home. A tiny kitchenette equipped with a stove, fridge and sink a bathroom, a bed, and an old, chipped brown dial console TV. She’d even splurged an extra twenty dollars a week for a room with a phone and a view of something besides the back of the next

building. She ran her fingers against the cool window glass as more depressing thoughts attacked. Maybe the search for Daddy Dearest was to find another sense of family, instead of revenge and retribution. A breakthrough had to come from somewhere soon. This past year, the quest to find her father, gain revenge for her mother, and find exactly who, or what, she was had become her whole life. Sighing, she stepped away from the window. Something had to come through. She had nothing else.

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