“Much obliged, Mrs. Lawrence,” I say gratefully while I help Cherry off the bike.
“Are they alright? Are you sure this is safe?” Cherry whispers to me after she takes her helmet off and shakes out her hair. I give her a boyish grin back, unable to keep myself from appreciating how good she looks.
“Relax. These two go way back with me. This is a safe place to lay low for a few hours while the cops buzz off.”
Cherry looks uncertain, but she nods, following me up to the door as Wanda holds it open for us, smiling warmly as we step into the quaint little kitchen. Gerald is standing inside, still casting glances at the front window as he makes his way to the kitchen to give my hand a firm shake.
“Thanks for this,” Cherry says, venturing to break the ice with what were total strangers to her. “We really appreciate it.”
Gerald lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh, you must be new around town — Leon here has more than earned a place here any time. When Wanda had her fall last year, his boys made sure groceries got here every week while I had to run the shop.”
“Not like Anya wouldn’t have done it herself if we didn’t know about it,” I answer with a chuckle, and Gerald nods, a hint of sadness still in his eyes at the mention of the name.
“Why don’t you two get settled in the living room while we make you all some coffee?” Wanda offers, and I give her a nod.
“Thanks, ma’am.” I lead Cherry to the cramped living room, covered in old, musty furniture, the walls invisible under all the pictures of the cute old couple’s family and life together. It’s a quaint little place.
Cherry takes a seat on one of the armchairs across from me. I can tell she looks more than a little uncomfortable, and I can’t really blame her. It’s been a hell of a day for her, to put it lightly.
As the owners head back into the kitchen to give us some privacy, Cherry finally looks me in the eye, chewing her lip a moment before speaking.
“What happened to this place, Leon?”
There it is. The question I knew would be coming from the moment I knew it was Cherry come back to town.
“That’s a big question, Cherry,” I say with a sigh. “Where do you want me to start?”
Cherry seems at a loss for a moment, but then just gestures vaguely outside. “I mean, all this. My school bus dropped kids off in this neighborhood when we were in high school. It wasn’t anything like this back then. I remember green grass and pretty decent houses. I know you see things differently when you’re a kid, but…”
“Things went downhill pretty fast while you were gone,” I say, and the memory of those old times takes me back to a place I hadn’t thought of for a long while. Cherry was having that effect on me in more ways than one, I was starting to realize. “I know your dad didn’t see eye-to-eye with what those of us in the union were doing during the strike, but once the bosses broke us up, it was easy for them to start driving this town into the dirt. Wages dropped, people spent less and worked more, and the only people who kept their pockets lined were the goons up top.”
I can tell Cherry looks a little skeptical. Part of that is her instinct to question, I know. She’s always had that kind of spark to her, came from her father. But I know she probably has a different predisposition to this place than us locals do.
“So what, the union dies and poverty just kind of...happens? I know everyone seems to like you pretty well around here, Leon, but I mean, how bad can they make it? Dad wasn’t big on the union s, and he seemed to do fine after the bust.”
“Lotta the folks who didn’t side with the union came out alright in the aftermath,” I agree with a nod, “but he took a pay cut just like everyone else. You don’t remember him working later nights for the time before you left?”
Cherry furrows her brow, and the pieces begin to fall together in her mind. “He said he was putting aside cash for a college fund when he started moonlighting.”
“A lot of people had to start ‘saving for a special occasion’ after the bust,” I say, a grim smile on my face. “I know your dad didn’t always love what we did, Cherry, but those of us the bosses decided to strike back at felt it hard. Nowadays, this club is the only thing keeping the place together. It’s not like it’s ideal, but until they listen to our demands, it’s what we’re forced to do to survive.”
Cherry looks like she’s starting to understand, but to drive things home, I nod my head up to one of the pictures on the wall. It shows a young man and a woman who looks like she’s got as much Russian in her as all the rest of the immigrants.