“Wow. Does that mean the dates have been really many?”
“Oh no, not at all. The dates have been painfully few, so I really appreciate one when it comes along.” He smiled again. “I guess you saw how nervous and excited I was when I picked you up at your gate.”
Lavida’s phone rang again. She frowned at it. “Ma please!” she threw her arms up in frustration. She spoke into the phone: “I’m okay, will call you later, bye,” and hung up on her mother immediately.
Stan laughed. “You’ll make her mad. No one likes being hung up on.”
“She deserves it,” Lavida said. “I want him to start trusting that at nineteen years I can be away from home on a date at nine P.M. and still get home in one piece!”
Stan nodded solemnly. “I believe you can. I’m thinking I should take you home though. We’ll try to meet earlier next time, assuming that I have not misbehaved and there will be a next time.” He was staring at his plate. Lavida felt that he should be staring at her when he said this.
Freddie the waiter reappeared. “How’s the romantic evening going, Sweetie?” he touched Lavida’s shoulder and winked. Stan frowned and gave a warning cough that seemed to say: “Hey, you are way overboard, bro.”
Lavida burst out laughing. “Never mind Freddie,” she told Stan. “He imagines he’s a comedian or something like that.”
“And he’s damn right!” Freddie grinned. “You mean Lavida, all this long you have never noticed that I’m a heart-broken waiter waiting for your hand in dating?”
Stan’s hand closed over Freddie’s hand on the table in an iron group. “What is this? Are you trying to hit on my date?” There was a look in Stan’s eyes that made Freddie’s heart skip a beat and a cold chill run up his spine, but Lavida seemed to miss it as she was inexplicably staring down at her plate, perhaps a little embarrassed.
“Come on guys,” she said, looking up just as Stan released Freddie’s hand and gave her a dazzling smile that many women found irressistible. His brown hair was cropped on his brow in a charming way: the women found the style charming, anyway. “Freddie’s just being Freddie,” Lavida told Stan, disappointed that he seemed so insecure.
“I’ll take you home, Lavida,” Stan said abruptly. “Sorry I’m so edgy tonight. Some business issues on my mind.” He placed some money on the bill. “You talked yourself out of a tip, buddy,” he told Freddie with a stiff smile and Lavida shook her head, half amused.
The beep of her phone told her that she had a new message as they walked out to Stan’s car and left Freddie still looking rather ruffled by this encounter.
It was then that Lavida spotted what looked like a knife wrapped in a white hanky with dark-red stains on the floorboard near his feet as he lit a light and then switched off.
The look on her face reflected by oncoming vehicles must have attracted Stan’s attention. She began to dial feverishly on her phone, suddenly getting more concerned and nervous about Stan. Before she could stop him, he snatched her phone and read the message, then growled and slammed the phone on top of the dashboard.
“Please let me out!” Lavida cried as the car moved on through the rarely scarce traffic and turned off into what seemed like a car park in a yard without a gate and stopped infront of a 20-foot freight container. “Please!” Lavida begged. “Let me go!”
A knife was in Stan’s hand. His eyes were rather amused and yet dangerously thoughtful as he stared at her. “I’m sorry. I really enjoyed the date, Lavida. I just want you to come in...I won’t hurt you. You can leave when you are free.”
“When I’m free?” Lavida looked dumbfounded.
“I own this container. No one will ask questions, and no one guards this yard. The rest are broken-down trucks. You will be safe here, Lavida.”
Lavida considered. Should she try to outrun him? He was too strong for her, but could she outrun him?
As if reading her thoughts, he showed her a small semi-automatic handgun. “Please don’t make me shoot you, Lavida. I promise you’ll be safe in the container. I won’t stay there with you, but you’ll be safe. Get out.”
Lavida got out, Stan following closely behind. She walked to the container, praying for a miracle. The yard was in a rather hollow ground and the road on which traffic moved obliviously along was some hundred yards away and about ten feet higher than the yard level, so that the container was hidden from the lights that shone along the road.
Stan opened the door that was grilled into the container with a surprising click of the padlock, and pushed Lavida in. “There is a flashlight inside. You’ll be safe. I’ll be back, Lavida.” The door slammed behind her and she found herself in the darkness.
Lavida gingerly switched on her phone’s light. Good thing he had not taken her phone away!