Ruthless

Chapter 8

Ruth dreamed of a place bursting with light. She dreamed she ran through a field of green underneath a brilliant blue sky towards a familiar house. It was her grandmother’s house. Ruth’s parents had died in a car accident when she was only three months old. Her father had been a court judge and her mother a professional violinist. She knew nothing about them except that on one cold, miserable night when they were driving back from a concert her mother had played in Sacramento, they were hit head on by a car being pursued by police. Ruth had been at home, in the care of her regular nanny. Her only other living relative was her grandmother who lived in the countryside of the Napa Valley. She owned a large orchard, filled with apple and cherry trees.

Ruth was raised on the farm by her grandmother until she was eleven years old. She was a warm and loving woman who was always trying to bring her shy granddaughter out of her shell. That was until one sunny Saturday morning, Ruth found her grandmother still in bed past her usual rising time of 6.00 am.

That day, Ruth was moved to a foster home in downtown LA. The only love Ruth had ever known was shared in her grandmother’s house, the house with creaky wooden floors and the sweet smell of apples.

Ruth awoke feeling refreshed, despite having washed down three cigarettes with a whole bottle of red wine before passing out somewhere around 8.00 pm. She had left the curtains in her bedroom open and sunshine was pouring over her bed. Ruth sprang up and made her way into the bathroom where she eyed herself in the mirror. She looked surprisingly good for someone who had been suffering from wild delusions the day before. Rummaging through her memory, it was hard to distinguish what had actually happened from what she had imagined. Certainly Laura hadn’t disappeared into thin air ˗ that was imagined. But what else? O’Malley plunging to his death? The drainpipe escape? It all felt like a dream, not reality.

Ruth gave up on psychoanalysing herself and turned on the shower. She had fallen asleep wearing the clothes from the day before and her hair reeked of cigarette smoke. Ruth undressed and stepped under the warm water. Just as she had worked up a good lather of shampoo in her hair, she heard an unfamiliar noise. It was coming from her bedroom. Ruth strained to listen over the running water.

Berb berb berb berb...

After quickly washing the shampoo from her hair, Ruth turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower.

Berb berb berb berb...

She grabbed a towel and hastily wrapped it around herself. “What is that noise?” she said out loud, striding into her bedroom. The noise, Ruth discovered, was coming from her bedside clock. The alarm, that she’d never once set since she’d bought the thing, was sounding. The clock reported it was 8.00 am.

Just as Ruth hit the snooze button, another sound began. Ruth followed it, marching out through the living room into the kitchen while still clinging to her wet towel.

Beeeeeeep. Beeeeeeep. Beeeeeeep.

The microwave was reporting that it was ‘Finished’. Finished what?  She hit the release button and the microwave door swung open. Ruth staggered backwards, dropping her towel as she brought both her hands to her mouth. It had been many years since she’d seen it, but it was unmistakable. Inside the microwave sat her grandmother’s emerald ring – the one she’d been buried with. Ruth stood there naked, staring at the ring for only a matter of seconds, before another sound made her shriek – Ding dong – the doorbell.

At least this time Laura had the common courtesy to wait until she was invited in. Ruth stood shivering in her towel, as Laura walked past her into the living room.

“We are officially late,” Laura said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover today.”

“I’m, ah, I’m sorry,” Ruth stuttered, feeling quite befuddled. Laura had caught her off-guard, otherwise she’d never have let her in.

“He said you wouldn’t come so I planned a little wake up call to get you on track.”

Ruth’s mind caught up with the current situation. Heat sprang into her cheeks.

“Are you that sick that you would exhume my grandmother’s body? To threaten me with... that?” Ruth gestured angrily towards the microwave. “Just so I would buy into your crazy stories?”

“My goodness Ruth!” Laura threw her hands into the air, exasperated. “No one has exhumed your grandmother’s body. The ring is a gift, a sign that you are still ignoring. Have you read the note?”

Laura, wearing a dark grey pants suit, stomped in her exceptionally high heels over to the microwave and retrieved the ring and the note that Ruth had been too shocked to notice.

“Why can’t you accept that maybe, just maybe, everything I have told you is true?” she said, returning and thrusting the note at Ruth.

The note, in her grandmother’s flourished handwriting read: Congratulations on the success of your first assignment, Ruthie. I want you to wear my ring and remember that I love you very much.

Ruth stared at the note, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. After a moment of silence, Laura touched Ruth’s elbow gently and then handed her the ring, which she accepted guardedly.

“Come into the office, Ruth. Hear it from Him if you need to. If you don’t, I can’t help you. The alternative is unthinkable.”

Ruth’s logical mind was losing the battle with her irrational soul. Emotion overwhelmed her. She turned the ring over in her palm. She’d tried it on many times when she was a child, while sitting on her grandmother’s lap. It had always been much too big for her childish fingers. Ruth’s heart heaved as she slipped the ring onto her index finger. She didn’t want to fight it anymore. This was her grandmother’s ring; there was no mistaking it. Maybe it was true. Maybe she was an angel.

“Okay,” Ruth said, “I will meet this divine leader of yours and see what He has to say.”

“Excellent. You won’t regret it, I promise. Now let me pick you out something to wear.” Laura’s perky persona bubbled to the surface again. “We need to dress you for your next assignment.”

“My next assignment?”

“Yes, I was thinking something short, tight and tacky.”

“So you want me to dress up like a cheap hooker for my first meeting with Him?”

“Precisely,” Laura said, trotting into the bedroom.

The scuffed, red Jimmy Choo stilettos that Ruth had worn on her first assignment really brought the whole ensemble together. Laura had rifled through Ruth’s closet and found a relic from her university days and now the black lycra, strapless dress clung to Ruth’s shapely body. When Ruth came out of the bathroom wearing her usual arrangement of makeup, Laura insisted she add blush to her cheeks and apply another coat of mascara.

“You look fantastic!” Laura said clapping her hands together and looking Ruth up and down.

“I look awful,” Ruth argued.

“Come on, we’ll be late if we don’t get moving,” Laura said, grabbing Ruth by the hand and leading her towards the door.

“I thought we were already late,” Ruth said, collecting her handbag and keys on their way.

“The way Vince drives, we could still manage to be early,” Laura chuckled.

Ruth didn’t like the sound of that. She thought about the last time Vince had taken her to the office and her stomach lurched.