Free The Deception Dance by Rita Stradling

international call from his
landline; he doesn’t even know me.
    He doesn't even know me and I don't know anything but his name; which
means I’ve been locking lips with a complete stranger!
    I grab my cheek. I said I was meant to be here. I thought about
falling in love. "Way too much, way too fast," I say. I
need to get out of here, leave before Andras comes back.
    Ignoring the consequences for my bandaged foot, I get up and run out
of the room, down the stairs, across the foyer and to the door. I
catch my breath and reach for the doorknob, which is turning.
    I’m locked in one instant of sheer panic. Then, I spin on my
heel and dash from the foyer into the sitting room. I peer around for
some escape route. For a moment, I consider retreating into the
bedroom, then snap out of it by screaming, internally, "No!
Focus, Raven, escape!" A small door interrupts the nearest wall
and I sprint for it. I yank the door open to find a broom closet.
    Footsteps rap behind me. I step into the closet and close the door.
What am I doing? I’m acting like a crazy person.
    There’s a window. I weave through the brooms, mops and vacuums
and reach the window, right as there’s a knock on the door
behind me.
    The metal window lock is old and I have to shove hard to unfasten the
latch. There’s another knock. I slam the pane up.
    “Raven, are you in there?” Andras voice calls, but it
doesn’t matter because I’m out the window.
    I scoot off the windowsill and dash down the alley. I’m six
blocks away before I pause to exhale a nervous cackle. I check my
heel; my bandage is so dirty and worn, I doubt the gauze protects my
cut from infection. No blood; the cut hasn’t opened. I enter a
busier street and hold up my hand.
    A taxi stops: the driver’s smoking. Beggars can’t be
breathers. I climb in.
    I say, “Hotel Paradiso, please.”
    I should have left a note. No. What would I have written? ‘I
had the most amazing time with you; sorry I escaped out your window.’
He would think I’m insane. What am I thinking? He must believe
I’m crazy: I escaped from his house like a thief.
    Oh god, what if he thinks I stole something? He probably does.
    I taste blood and realize I’ve been chewing through my lip. I
cover my eyes with my hand and don’t look up until the chimney
in the driver’s seat pulls over and points to his meter. I give
him the Euros stuffed in my bra, not bothering to wait for change,
and step out in front of Hotel Paradiso.
    Hyper-conscious of my bare feet, I smile at the doorman in his top
hat, and enter the hotel. My heart pumps so fast, I can’t
concentrate on anything but walking to the stairs and up to my room.
The suite’s door is propped open, so I walk in.
    “Hello?” I call, as I stroll from room to room.
    No one answers.
    My cell phone is in on the bed. I snag it and hobble to the bathroom.
I climb into the tub and dial my sister’s phone number. As the
phone rings, I peel off the tape on my foot’s bandage.
    There’s a click and a fiddling sound on the other end, “Hello?
Raven...” comes Linnie’s anxious voice.
    I stammer for a second because I’m looking at my foot. Where I
expected an unhealed, dirty cut there is nothing but a little tape
residue.
    Linnie cries, “Raven!”
    “I’m here...”
    “Oh…my...God!” Her sobs punctuate every word.
“Where are you?”
    “In our room, I...” She hangs up before I finish.
    I stand and place the phone on the sink counter. While examining
myself in the mirror, I rip off my shoulder bandage: nothing, not a
mark on me. Did I imagine the attack? Was I hallucinating? I feel as
if the floor is dropping out from under me. There had to have been a
cut. Why would they bandage me if there were no cut? I stare at my
shoulder, breathing hard, until I hear people crash into the room.
    Five people rush in: Linnie, Nicholas and three policemen.
    I exit the bathroom and am barreled over by Linnie; we land on one of
the beds. She might be saying