One More Knight Please

Chapter 17: Another Knight

(Authors note)
This chapter goes deep into topics like abortion, rape, drug and alcohol use, poverty, and death. If any of these trigger you, I'd recommend skipping to Chapter 19. Just a heads up.

I slid into Kitt and drove away. Maybe I should have taken my Tesla. I always bought lunch
from a small restaurant nearby. Small businesses support small businesses. We hit the highway, the sky was gray and overcast. Rain sprinkled down from the sky like sand in an hourglass.
"You're quiet," Kitt said, breaking the silence.
"I just have a lot on my mind," I responded.
"Would you like to talk about it? I'm always here." He said softly.
"I wish I could."
"What do you mean?"
"I overheard you and Dahlia talking."
Silence flooded the air again, the only noises were the small whirr of Kitt's turbine, and the sound of wind whooshing against the car. I looked out the windshield at the road ahead of us. Puddles formed in every pothole, streams of water gushing down the sides of the road.
"What did you hear?" Kitt said after a moment.
"I heard that she wants you to spy on me."
"I wouldn't put it that way-"
"BECAUSE YOU THINK THAT IF YOU WORD SOMETHING DIFFERENTLY IT TAKES THE RUDENESS OUT OF IT! TRUTH IS, IT DOESN'T"T!" I yelled at the car.
"Susan, there is no need to yell."
I turned away from the dashboard, leaning my head against the window. Kitt hit a pothole, seemingly purposely, and I hit my head against the glass.
"Ow," I said to myself.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"Fine," I said shortly.
"Susan, I didn't mean to anger you. I am sorry." He apologized.
"It's fine. I'm just mad that both you and Dahlia seem to find the need to eavesdrop every minute of my love life." I explained.
"I only do it to improve my knowledge of human emotions, not to harass you. Can't you trust me?" He asked.
"It's hard to do that when you're always in my business," I said.
"Susan, do you know why Micheal and I worked so well together?" He questioned.
"Why?" I responded.
"Because he trusted me, and I trusted him. He trusted that I would always be there for him, and catch every stupid thing he does. In return, I knew I could always count on him to safely return me to F.L.A.G."
"Do you trust me?"
"I do."
"Why?"
"Because you came to me through Micheal, who is your own blood, and delivered me back to F.L.A.G. Fulfilling the ever-going deal between Micheal and me."
I sat in silence. I was still in control of the car, so I took the next exit and approached the Restaurant.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Kitt." I apologized.
"It's fine," He said.
We pulled up to the restaurant, and Kitt parked near the door. I took two steps out of the car. There was a loud Pop! Pop! Of gunshots. I saw the two bullets hit Kitt, then ricochet. I clamored quickly into the bulletproof car and didn't say a word.
"What was that?" Kitt exclaimed, a worried tone crossing into his voice.
"Someone from Berio Electronics recognized me," I said. I wasn't sure it was true, but it was a good enough reason for me to get the heck out of there.
"What do you want to do?" Kitt asked.
"Get far away from here, there is a Wendy's about 10 minutes away, I'll get lunch there."
"Okay," Kitt said, pulling up the restaurant on his GPS.
He backed out of the parking lot quickly, like a black cat sliding its way in and out of places stealthily. I put some thought behind it, someone had to recognize me, therefore, they know how I look. Either that or they guessed it was me based on the fact I had arrived in Kitt. As Kitt scuttled his way down the road, I decided to do something I may end up regretting, but it would keep me safe. I pulled the ponytail holder I had on my wrist off and pulled back my hair.
"What are you doing Susan?" Kitt asked.
"Making myself a disguise," I responded.
Before he could get out another word, I took my pocket knife out of my pocket. I slowly held it up to the very edge of my ponytail holder, making sure I didn't cut it, or myself. With one hand I held the knife, and in the other, I pulled my hair tight, making it easier to cut with just one hand. All it took was a small amount of upward force on my hand, and off came about a good 7 inches of my long, silky, brown hair.
"Susan!" Kitt exclaimed, his voice sounding surprised and shocked at the same time.
My hair was about the length of Micheal's now, just a little longer. I rolled down the window, then threw out the lock of hair I held in my hand.
"Susan, did you just throw that out the window?" Kitt questioned, sounding confrontational.
"Yeah, some bird somewhere will find that and think he's in heaven," I said slyly.
"Do you want a bird making a nest out of your hair?" Kitt asked.
"I don't care, it's my way of giving back to the environment," I explained.
I looked in Kitt's mirror and saw how much of an iffy job I did, while my knife was still out, I decided to fix it. I trimmed the sides down a little, just to make it not look weird. When I finished, I took as many of the hairs I cut as I could pick up and tossed them out the window as well.
"You missed some," Kitt commented.
"I'll vacuum you out again later," I said.
"Thank you, Susan." He replied with a higher-pitched voice.
We approached Wendy's rather quickly.
"Are you tracking that device I gave Bowie?" I asked Kitt.
"Yes, would you like to know where it is?" Kitt responded.
"Sure."
"It is at what seems to be an old office building, closer to Chicago, near Micheal's house." He explained as he parked in the first open space he saw.
"Now we got our lead, I'll be back," I said, stepping out of the vehicle.
I walked up to the door, where a scrawny old lady sat, holding an empty can. Her clothes were ragged and torn, her hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in years. Her ice-cold blue eyes glanced at me as if she were pleading with me for mercy.
"Ma'am, do you have a few dollars to spare?" She asked, her voice dry and crackly, like the sound of a dehydrated toad.
The desperate look in her eyes, reminded me solemnly of when my Grandmother pleaded with me not to end up like my Mother. My Mother in question, I don't often talk about mine. She had gotten involved with the wrong people at a very young age, luckily, my father was able to take care of her. She was only 16 when she became pregnant with me. My grandmother never told me who my real father was, and quite frankly, I didn't care much for him. If he could get a girl pregnant when she was only 16, then abandon her, he didn't deserve any of my time. My Mother died at my birth, that's what happens when a 16-year-old is refused an abortion. But my father took care of me. My Step-Mother is nice to me as well. I never had to suffer, and I was adopted into a fabulous family that presented me with a whole new chance at life. I guess you could call it luck, I never really thought of it that way though. I looked down at the pleading lady below me.
"Come on, you can pick out anything on the menu, I'll pay," I told her.
"Thank you, thank you so much, God bless you, and your whole family!" She cried, tears forming in her eyes.
"It's the least I can do," I said, smiling at her. In her eyes, that look of disparity was gone, instead, was a look of thankfulness and relief. I couldn't help but wonder, what had happened in her life for it to get this bad. Was she born into poverty? I tried to shake the questions out of my mind as I walked her into the restaurant. She was shaky, probably dehydrated. I walked her up to the front counter, where the cashier gave us an odd glare. His nametag read "Kory." He had soft light brown hair, that seemed to graduate towards of side of his face, squished under his bright red visor, that read, "Wendy's."
I approached him, the old lady behind me.
"You decide what you want, I already know what I want," I said to her, She simply nodded, her blue eyes gazing at the menu.
"What can I get for you today?" The cashier asked, his brown eyes staring me down.
"I'll have the 10-piece chicken nugget meal, with a medium drink," I said.
"Okay, and for you?" He said, shrugging towards the old lady.
"Same thing." She replied, her voice still sounding like the croaking of a frog.
"Any sauce?" He asked.
"Ranch please." Both the old lady and I said at the same time.
He tilted his head a little and typed something into the register.
"Your total is $21.20," He said.
I slid my credit card into the pin pad, as he grabbed two medium cups from the side counter.
The small screen on the pin pad displayed in bold letters, "Please remove the card." as it beeped obnoxiously. I quickly removed the card and slid it back into my wallet. He grabbed the receipt and handed it to me, along with the two cups. At the bottom of the receipt, it said "23" in big bold letters. I handed the older lady her cup, and she sauntered over to the soda fountain. I followed quickly behind her, toning out the voices of the workers in the back as they prepared food for the people in the drive-through. She put some ice in her cup, then selected Diet Coke. I didn't put ice in my cup, I don't like my drinks to get watered down. I got myself Sprite, then followed her to the bar seat she had chosen for herself. I sat down across from her.
"So, if you don't mind, I must ask. How did you end up in this situation?" I asked as she took a sip from her drink.
"It all started when my daughter died. I got involved with drugs and alcohol, and before you knew it, it had drained all the money out of my wallet." She explained.
"What was your daughter's name?" I asked, wanting to make conversation.
"Her name was Mary." She answered.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," I said.
"It's alright dear. You kind of look like her, except she had much longer hair." She replied.
"I do?" I asked.
The woman dug around in her pocket, then pulled out a heart-shaped locket. She opened it and showed me a picture of a younger girl, who couldn't have been much older than 15 at the time. She was wearing a floral sundress and sun hat. She had on a pair of sunglasses so I couldn't see her eyes. But her long hair trailed out from under the hat I was quite shocked by how much it looked like how mine used to before I took the knife to it.
"I guess I do look like her," I said, running a hand through my now short hair.
"She died in such a tragic way... She was in cahoots with this one guy, who ended up getting her pregnant, then he abandoned her... She was only 16." She said, looking down at the little locket in her hands.
I froze for a second. Was this girl that she was describing as my birth mother?
"Oh my, why would he do that?" I said, trying to hide my discovery.
"I don't know, but eventually, while she was 2 months in, she met another boy, who had felt sympathy for her. He took care of her instead of going to school. He did everything for her until the day came. The baby lived, and the mother died." She said as a tear ran down her cheek.
"I am so sorry..." I said. It had to be my Mother. There was no way it wasn't. This was too close to be just a coincidence, wasn't it?
"23!" I hear someone shout from behind the counter.
"I'll go get that, don't run off on me," I explained as I got up out of my seat. I did as I promised, got the food, then returned.
I gave her her bag, then went on to begin to eat my food. We ate the majority of our meal in silence until I suddenly blurted out
"Was his name Alexander Barstow?"
She shot her head up to look at me, shock in her eyes.
"Yes, it was, how did you know?" She asked.
I pulled out my wallet again, taking out my driver's license. Where it said my name, the date I got it, the date it expired, and my birthday. I slid it across the table to her.
"Susan Barstow?!' She read aloud. "You're my Granddaughter?" She asked, amazement flowing across her face.
I just nodded.
"How can someone helping me eat turn into this!?" She exclaimed.
"What is your name?" I asked her.
"Margret Lohk." She answered.
I glanced down at my watch. Crap! I only had 15 minutes before Dahlia would come looking for me.
"Look Ms. Lohk, I hate to rush out on you like this, but my lunch break is about to end, so here is my number, call me on a payphone or something and I'll see what I can do for you," I said, writing my number on a napkin. I put the remainder of the things I haven't finished eating into my bag and then waved goodbye.