Open, Charlie

Chapter Two ~ Chicago

Three days later, Charlie stepped off the train to the platform in Chicago and hurried out of the drizzling rain into the station building. She had been traveling non-stop, first class and third, always jumping on the first available train, wending her way across America, and she was exhausted. She needed to rest at least for a day, bathe, and change clothing. Grime and sweat permeated her dress and seemed to penetrate her skin as well. The sooty stains made her crimson pelisse look mottled, diseased, and everything had started to stink. She needed to shop for some new clothes but she didn't feel far enough from Aaron yet to relax her guard.

He was a powerful crime lord and had eyes and ears in every major city, or at least he had said so, and she had no reason to doubt him. She needed to hide from his spies. He was definitely looking for her by now, had been looking almost from the moment of her escape.

She made her way to the schedule wall beside the ticket booths, but the lines of text in the schedules blurred before her eyes. She swayed and had to lean on the wall to keep to her feet. Her body was betraying her. She shook her head and blinked rapidly to restore her vision, but the faint dizziness wouldn't go away. Neither would her nausea.

She had hardly slept on any of the trains and hadn't talked to anyone except for a few common words. She needed a break in her flight. Needed to lie down. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep and a hot meal would do wonders for her, but a hotel was out of the question. Aaron might have people reporting to him in many expensive hotels across the country. Besides, she couldn't squander her dwindling funds on a hotel. Maybe a cheap inn. Or a boarding house.

Charlie took a deep breath and turned away from the schedules. Clutching her purse tightly, she weaved her path between the erratic, multidirectional currents of people. Her course ended at the wide double doors leading out, into the streets. On both sides of the door, paperboys sold local papers. Like her, they seemed tired. This late in the afternoon, they didn't yell anymore, just offered their spiels in hoarse voices and waved their remaining bunches of papers at the streams of uncaring travelers.

Charlie bought two of the thickest papers and settled on a wooden bench at the wall to find the advertisement pages. Half an hour later, she had her new destination, a cheap boarding house of Mrs. Brunelli. It let rooms for females by day and by week. One of the paperboys, glad for the distraction, explained to her how to get there.

"It's not far from the station, Miss. You don't need a streetcar or a cab. Just walk." He looked at her closely and revised his opinion. "Well, maybe you do need a cab."

"Do I look so bad?"

He shrugged. "You look wrung up."

Out of a perverse need to prove herself, Charlie walked. It took her over half an hour to reach the right address, but she was proud of herself. Stretching her legs and breathing fresh moist air felt good, despite the drizzle. The walk revived her.

In front of a two-storied, dingy house, she stopped, inhaled for courage, and climbed the steps to the door with its peeling paint. She rang the bell and held the advertisement page in front of her like a shield.

A big middle-aged woman with scraggly graying hair in a bun opened the door and glared at her.

"Uhm, ma'am, hello," Charlie said. "You advertise rooms for a day." She proffered the paper to the landlady. "Do you have one available?"

"Yes, come in." The woman stepped aside. "I have a room I rent daily, but all the weekly rooms are taken."

"That's good. I only need a few days." Charlie followed the landlady inside a small foyer.