"Eh-eh."
"No more eh-eh, change-change." Standing, Karen undid the straps of the high chair and lifted Zoe out, sniffing.
"Definitely time to change you."
But Zoe had other ideas and she began to kick and fuss. Holding the baby under one arm, like an oversized football, Karen lifted the gigantic denim bag that now took the place of the calf-leather purse Doug had given her, and walked over to the bar where the waiter stood polishing glasses and sucking his teeth.
He continued to ignore them even when Karen and Zoe were two feet away.
"Excuse me, sir."
One heavy black eyebrow cocked.
"Where's your ladies' room?"
Wet brown eyes ran over Karen's body like dirty oil, then Zoe's. Definitely a creep.
He licked his lips. A crooked thumb indicated the back of the restaurant.
Right past the booth with Lizard and his pals.
Taking a deep breath and staring straight ahead, Karen marched, swinging the big bag. God, it was heavy. All the stuff you had to carry.
The three men stopped talking as she walked by. Someone chuckled.
Lizard cleared his throat and said, "Cute kid," in a nasal voice full of locker-room glee.
More laughter.
Karen pushed through the door.
She emerged a few minutes later, having wrestled Zoe to a three-round decision. In one of Zoe's hands was the cow-rattle Karen employed to take Zoe's mind off diaper-changing.
Let's hear it for distraction.
Forced to pass the three men, Karen stared straight ahead but managed to see what they were eating. Double-cut veal chops, bone and gristle and meat spread out over huge plates. Some poor calf had been confined and force-fed and butchered so these three creeps could stuff their faces.
Lizard said, "Very cute." The other two laughed and Karen knew he hadn't meant Zoe.
Feeling herself flush, she kept going. The men started talking. Zoe shook the rattle.
Karen said, "Eh-eh, huh, Zoe?" and the baby grinned and drew back her hand.
Windup and the pitch.
The rattle sailed toward the back of the restaurant. Rolling on the tile floor toward the back booth. Karen ran back, startling the three men. The rattle had landed next to a shiny black loafer.
As she picked it up, the tail end of a sentence faded into silence. A word. A name.
A name from the evening news.
A man, not a nice one, who'd talked about his friends and had been murdered in jail, yesterday, despite police protection. The man who'd uttered the name was staring at her. Fear-ice-cube terror-spread across Karen's face, paralyzing it.
Lizard put his knife down. His eyes narrowed to hyphens. He was still smiling, but differently, very differently. One of the other men cursed. Lizard shut him up with a blink.
The rattle was in Karen's hand now. Shaking, making ridiculous rattle sounds. Her hand couldn't stop shaking. She began backing away. "Hey," said Lizard. "Cutie." Karen kept going.
Lizard looked at Zoe and his smile died.
Karen clutched her baby tight and ran. Past the waiter, forgetting about the high chair, then remembering, but who cared, it was a cheap one, she needed to get out of this place.
She heard chairs scrape the tile floor. "Hey, Cutie, hold on."
She kept going.
The waiter started to move around from behind the bar. Lizard was coming at her too. Moving fast. Taller than he looked sitting down, the gray suit billowing around his lanky frame.
"Hold on!" he shouted.
Karen gripped the door, swung it open, and dashed out hearing his curses.
Quiet neighborhood, a few people on the sidewalk who looked just like the creeps in the restaurant.
Karen turned right at the corner and ran. Rattling, the heavy denim bag knocking against her thigh.
Zoe was crying.
"It's okay, baby, it's okay, Mommy will keep you safe."
She heard a shout and looked back to see Lizard coming after her, people moving away from him, giving him room. Fear in their faces. He pointed at Karen, went after her.
She picked up her pace. Let's hear it for jogging. But this wasn't like running in shorts and a T-shirt; between Zoe and the heavy bag she felt like a plow horse.
Okay, keep a rhythm, the creep was skinny but he probably wasn't in good shape. Nice and easy with the breathing, pretend this is a ten-k and you've carbo-loaded the night before, slept a peaceful eight hours, gotten up when you wanted to…
She made it to another corner. Red light. A taxi sped by and she had to wait. Lizard was gaining on her-running loosely on long legs, his face sharp and pale-not a lizard, a snake. A venomous snake.
Ugly words came out of the snake's mouth. He was pointing at her.
She stepped off the curb. A truck was approaching halfway down the block. She waited until it got closer, bolted, made it stop short. Blocking the snake.
Another block, this one shorter, lined with shabby storefronts. But no corner at the end of this one. Green dead end. A hedge behind high, graffitied stone walls. A park. The entrance a hundred yards left. Karen went for it, running even faster, hearing Zoe's cries and the raspy sound of her own breathing. Plow horse…
Steep, cracked steps took her down into the park. A bronze statue besmirched by pigeon dirt, poorly maintained grass, big trees.
She placed a hand behind Zoe's head, making sure not to jolt the supple neck-she'd read that babies could get whiplash without anyone knowing and then years later they'd show signs of brain damage…
Clap clap behind her as Snake's footsteps slapped the steps. Mr. Viper… stop thinking stupid thoughts, he was just a man, a creep. Just keep going, she'd find a place to be safe.
The park was empty, the stone path shaded almost black by huge spreading elms.
"Hey!" shouted the snake. "Stop, awready… what… the… fuck!"
Panting between words. The creep probably never did anything aerobic.
"What… fuck… problem… wanna talk!" Karen pumped her legs. The path took on an upward slope. Good, make the creep work harder, she could handle it, though Zoe's cries in her ear were starting to get to her-poor thing, what kind of mother was she, getting her baby into something like this-
"Jesus!" From behind. Huff, huff. "Stupid… bitch!"
More trees, bigger, the pathway even darker. Along the side, occasional benches, graffitied, too, no one on them.
No one to help.
Karen ran even faster. Her chest began to hurt and Zoe hadn't stopped wailing.
"Easy, honey," she managed to gasp. "Easy, Zoe-puff."
The slope grew steeper.
"Fucking bitch!"
Then something appeared on the path. A metal-mesh garbage can. Low enough for her to jump in her jogging days, but not with Zoe. She had to sidestep it and the snake saw her lose footing, stumble, veer off onto the grass, and twist her ankle.
She cried out in pain. Tried to run, stopped.
Zoe's chubby cheeks were soaked with tears.
The snake smiled and walked around the can and toward her.
"Fucking city," he said, kicking the can and whipping out a handkerchief and wiping the sweat from his face. Up close he smelled of too-sweet cologne and raw meat. "No maintenance. No one takes any fucking pride anymore."
Karen started to edge away, looked sharply at her ankle, and winced.
"Poor baby," said the snake. "The big one, I mean. With the little one making all that fucking noise-does she ever shut up?"
"Listen, I-"
"No, you listen." A long-fingered hand took hold of Karen's arm. The one she held Zoe with. "You listen, what the fuck you running away like some idiot make-me-chase-you-sweat-up-my-suit?"
"I-my baby."
"Your baby should shut the fuck up, understand? Your baby should learn a little discipline, know what I mean? No one learns discipline how's it gonna be?"
Karen didn't answer.