The Way We Were, chapter 1
When Lou, an old Oakland cab driver, first saw his passenger walk from the Greyhound bus stop, he couldn't help but stare at the girl about the same age as his niece. He would never let his niece, whom he was guardian of, ride a Greyhound, especially alone. What was worse, she was curvy and stick-thin, making her an easy target for the city's gang bangers. It looked as if she was moving somewhere because it appeared she was carrying all her belongings, which appeared to be nothing more than a small backpack, a guitar, and trombone case.
Just the thought of her wandering around the city was almost more than Lou could handle. He couldn't stop imagining what circumstances led her to Oakland, but was interrupted when she finally reached his cab. The address she was giving was in one of the Bay area's nicest, and most expensive neighborhoods, which only puzzled the driver even more.
"So what brings you to Oakland?" was all Lou could say after a few minutes of awkward silence.
"I'm just visiting people," the girl replied. "How long a drive is it to this section of town, uh... "
"Name's Lou, and it's about a thirty minute drive. If you don't mind me asking, aren't you young to be riding a Greyhound by yourself to a city that's not known for being the safest city in the world?"
"Why do you care?" she asked bitterly. "It's not like anyone cares about me."
"I'm sure you have a loving family. It's just strange that they don't seem to be worried about your transportation."
"Not everyone can say they have a loving home."
"What, you don't have one?"
"Why do you care?"
"Hey I'm just making sure you're okay. If you need any help while you're here, call me alright?"
"Thanks Lou. I'll do that."
He wasn't sure whether she was being sarcastic, or serious, but he handed her his business card anyway.
* * *
After the girl had left Lou at the residential gate, she couldn't help but smile, because he refused to charge her for the long drive to Berkeley. She was still nervous about the task that loomed ahead of her, but she continued towards the address despite this.
His house was much bigger than the girl had thought it would be, which was not helping her over come her nervousness. She finally mustered the courage to ring his doorbell, and hopefully to a new future.
An exhausted,and angry looking Billie Joe answered the door. His first response was not the response Rachel had been anticipating.
"So you're the kid from the contest in the stupid teen magazine? Aren't you a little old to be reading that magazine? It's for thirteen year-olds and that shit you known right?"
"Typical response to me, men stare and drool, the women glare. Just because I have an hourglass figure and a big chest doesn't mean I'm in my twenties, that they're fake, and/or that I'm a whore," Rachel thought.
She smiled and responded in her sweetest voice, "Actually I'm only thirteen, but it's okay, it happens all the time. Um, Billie Joe, where should I put my things?"
"Just leave your crap by the door. Let me introduce you to my family and give you the grand tour. You'll spend part of the day with my mother as she watches my sons, and then we'll have dinner."
Rachel didn't protest even though she thought she would get to spend time with the entire band, and would've been treated better.
She was led to a long dining room that was bigger than her father's apartment. Sitting at the head of a massive dining room table was Joey, looking just as excited as his father.
"Joey, this is the girl from the contest, uh Michelle," Billie stated.
"Actually it's Rachel, but it happens all the time," Rachel irritably corrected.
The boy glared at her, and said, "You're a fucking whore that's just trying to get in my dad's pants, and steal his money!"
Then Joey ran up the stairs. The worst part for Rachel was that Billie Joe did not scold his son for his outburst. With tears pouring down her eyes, she grabbed her few belongings, and walked out the door, only to collide with lean, muscular man. From lack of food for almost four days, exhaustion, the painful beatings and cuts that had bled too much, and the emotions running through her body, Rachel passed out in Mike's muscular arms.
Just the thought of her wandering around the city was almost more than Lou could handle. He couldn't stop imagining what circumstances led her to Oakland, but was interrupted when she finally reached his cab. The address she was giving was in one of the Bay area's nicest, and most expensive neighborhoods, which only puzzled the driver even more.
"So what brings you to Oakland?" was all Lou could say after a few minutes of awkward silence.
"I'm just visiting people," the girl replied. "How long a drive is it to this section of town, uh... "
"Name's Lou, and it's about a thirty minute drive. If you don't mind me asking, aren't you young to be riding a Greyhound by yourself to a city that's not known for being the safest city in the world?"
"Why do you care?" she asked bitterly. "It's not like anyone cares about me."
"I'm sure you have a loving family. It's just strange that they don't seem to be worried about your transportation."
"Not everyone can say they have a loving home."
"What, you don't have one?"
"Why do you care?"
"Hey I'm just making sure you're okay. If you need any help while you're here, call me alright?"
"Thanks Lou. I'll do that."
He wasn't sure whether she was being sarcastic, or serious, but he handed her his business card anyway.
* * *
After the girl had left Lou at the residential gate, she couldn't help but smile, because he refused to charge her for the long drive to Berkeley. She was still nervous about the task that loomed ahead of her, but she continued towards the address despite this.
His house was much bigger than the girl had thought it would be, which was not helping her over come her nervousness. She finally mustered the courage to ring his doorbell, and hopefully to a new future.
An exhausted,and angry looking Billie Joe answered the door. His first response was not the response Rachel had been anticipating.
"So you're the kid from the contest in the stupid teen magazine? Aren't you a little old to be reading that magazine? It's for thirteen year-olds and that shit you known right?"
"Typical response to me, men stare and drool, the women glare. Just because I have an hourglass figure and a big chest doesn't mean I'm in my twenties, that they're fake, and/or that I'm a whore," Rachel thought.
She smiled and responded in her sweetest voice, "Actually I'm only thirteen, but it's okay, it happens all the time. Um, Billie Joe, where should I put my things?"
"Just leave your crap by the door. Let me introduce you to my family and give you the grand tour. You'll spend part of the day with my mother as she watches my sons, and then we'll have dinner."
Rachel didn't protest even though she thought she would get to spend time with the entire band, and would've been treated better.
She was led to a long dining room that was bigger than her father's apartment. Sitting at the head of a massive dining room table was Joey, looking just as excited as his father.
"Joey, this is the girl from the contest, uh Michelle," Billie stated.
"Actually it's Rachel, but it happens all the time," Rachel irritably corrected.
The boy glared at her, and said, "You're a fucking whore that's just trying to get in my dad's pants, and steal his money!"
Then Joey ran up the stairs. The worst part for Rachel was that Billie Joe did not scold his son for his outburst. With tears pouring down her eyes, she grabbed her few belongings, and walked out the door, only to collide with lean, muscular man. From lack of food for almost four days, exhaustion, the painful beatings and cuts that had bled too much, and the emotions running through her body, Rachel passed out in Mike's muscular arms.
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