included.
CHAPTER 3
PARISH COMPOUND
I hop in the front seat of Alexi’s car that he has pulled around the corner of The Benson. His car is warm, relieving my chill after my walk through the freezing rain of a Portland winter night.
“Hey , Sofa.” Alexi always refers to me as Sofa, it’s his nickname for me. As I said before, no one refers to me by my real name. I don’t even know if they remember it anymore, except for Gabi. I sometimes feel like I don’t even know who Eva is anymore. She was lost a long time ago, along with my innocence.
We drive in Alexi’s Land Rover across the Fremont Bridge towards the Parish Compound in North Portland. I click the seat warmer on and I sit back in the SUV enjoying the heat and the silence of the ride. After my meeting with James I just need some calm and time to clear my head.
I can feel Alexi looking at me after we exit the freeway. “Nice hickey Sofa. Looks like he had a good time with you.” He snickers as he moves my hair away from my neck to get a better look. I try to not cringe from his touch. He has used his hands before to hurt me and his touch is like acid.
We pull up to the chain link fence that surrounds the apartment complex. It is an older building, 1980s era. The worn soft pink paint is chipping and there are bars on the windows. We all refer to it as the Parish Compound even though the sign reads Parish Street Apartments.
We pull into the Parish Compound and a man pulls open the gate and waves to Alexi as we enter on the gravel driveway. This place looks like a secure apartment complex to those around us, but the security is a little topsy-turvy. It is not necessarily as much intended to keep people out as it is to keep us in.
It is late now and most of the lights are off in the building. I can see Gabi’s light still on in her room. I hope that she is still up so I can fill her in on my interesting new client. I am buzzed into the building and run up the staircase to the third floor and see her door open.
Gabi and I met almost seven years ago when I ended up living in this hell-hole. She was 18 and wise beyond her years. It was just before my 16th birthday. I had been living with my dad in Michigan and my life was good. My mom had passed when I was 10 years old after a two year battle with cancer. It was just dad and me after, but it was okay because we had each other.
We stuck together like glue through the good times and the bad. My older half-brothers had already moved out and were pretty much out of the picture. It was hard on my dad because he tried to have relationships with them but they were jealous of me. My mom had a short-lived marriage before she met my dad and the two boys were born of that earlier relationship. They lived with their father most of the time but we would see them for weekend visitations.
In February , winter hit Detroit hard. We had to pinch pennies to heat our apartment and keep dinner on the table. Dad had lost his job as a teacher and was substituting at schools all around Detroit as often as he could.
Another burden we had was after my mom had passed we were pretty much up to our eyeballs in hospital bills. The cancer treatments were expensive. My dad never filled me in with the details, but I knew. The collectors would call the house and I would overhear him on the phone talking to the insurance company about things like maximum coverage and deductibles. Those were tough times but we were happy because we had each other.
It started with a cough when he first got sick. As the weeks progressed he began to get worse. He couldn’t get out of bed by the time we went to the doctor. I finally drove him to the free clinic across town. I had to beg him to let me take him.
“Eva, I don’t want to be a burden. I will get better. Nie ma sprawy .” It’s no problem .
It was difficult to scrape together any money to go to
CHAPTER 3
PARISH COMPOUND
I hop in the front seat of Alexi’s car that he has pulled around the corner of The Benson. His car is warm, relieving my chill after my walk through the freezing rain of a Portland winter night.
“Hey , Sofa.” Alexi always refers to me as Sofa, it’s his nickname for me. As I said before, no one refers to me by my real name. I don’t even know if they remember it anymore, except for Gabi. I sometimes feel like I don’t even know who Eva is anymore. She was lost a long time ago, along with my innocence.
We drive in Alexi’s Land Rover across the Fremont Bridge towards the Parish Compound in North Portland. I click the seat warmer on and I sit back in the SUV enjoying the heat and the silence of the ride. After my meeting with James I just need some calm and time to clear my head.
I can feel Alexi looking at me after we exit the freeway. “Nice hickey Sofa. Looks like he had a good time with you.” He snickers as he moves my hair away from my neck to get a better look. I try to not cringe from his touch. He has used his hands before to hurt me and his touch is like acid.
We pull up to the chain link fence that surrounds the apartment complex. It is an older building, 1980s era. The worn soft pink paint is chipping and there are bars on the windows. We all refer to it as the Parish Compound even though the sign reads Parish Street Apartments.
We pull into the Parish Compound and a man pulls open the gate and waves to Alexi as we enter on the gravel driveway. This place looks like a secure apartment complex to those around us, but the security is a little topsy-turvy. It is not necessarily as much intended to keep people out as it is to keep us in.
It is late now and most of the lights are off in the building. I can see Gabi’s light still on in her room. I hope that she is still up so I can fill her in on my interesting new client. I am buzzed into the building and run up the staircase to the third floor and see her door open.
Gabi and I met almost seven years ago when I ended up living in this hell-hole. She was 18 and wise beyond her years. It was just before my 16th birthday. I had been living with my dad in Michigan and my life was good. My mom had passed when I was 10 years old after a two year battle with cancer. It was just dad and me after, but it was okay because we had each other.
We stuck together like glue through the good times and the bad. My older half-brothers had already moved out and were pretty much out of the picture. It was hard on my dad because he tried to have relationships with them but they were jealous of me. My mom had a short-lived marriage before she met my dad and the two boys were born of that earlier relationship. They lived with their father most of the time but we would see them for weekend visitations.
In February , winter hit Detroit hard. We had to pinch pennies to heat our apartment and keep dinner on the table. Dad had lost his job as a teacher and was substituting at schools all around Detroit as often as he could.
Another burden we had was after my mom had passed we were pretty much up to our eyeballs in hospital bills. The cancer treatments were expensive. My dad never filled me in with the details, but I knew. The collectors would call the house and I would overhear him on the phone talking to the insurance company about things like maximum coverage and deductibles. Those were tough times but we were happy because we had each other.
It started with a cough when he first got sick. As the weeks progressed he began to get worse. He couldn’t get out of bed by the time we went to the doctor. I finally drove him to the free clinic across town. I had to beg him to let me take him.
“Eva, I don’t want to be a burden. I will get better. Nie ma sprawy .” It’s no problem .
It was difficult to scrape together any money to go to
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