Flee From Evil by Connie Almony

door. “Who’s—? What happened in here?”
    “We finally got someone from The Home. He organized.”
    Her gaze ran the length of the space. “That must be the guy singin’ in the ladies’ room.”
    “His name is Amit.”
    “Well he can come to my house any day.” Her eyebrows see-sawed. “Just don’t let him join the choir.” Yolanda pivoted and headed toward the office.
    Vince stood outside the ladies’ room door propped open with a wringing bucket, and listened to the boisterous voice echo from the tile in song. “Anyone in there?”
    “Juss me, Passa Vince.”
    Vince entered and followed the singing to the far corner stall where shiny black shoes peeked out on the floor through the opened door. Amit, on hands and knees, scrubbed the base of the toilet with a small brush.
    Vince stood over him, hands on hips.
    Amit peeked back then stopped as if caught. “Oh! Uh-oh. I fawgot to tell ‘ou.” He pointed to the crevices where blackened grout had been replaced by clean surfaces. “Verwy bad. I stawt here.”
    Vince just watched.
    “Lazy men aw soon poor. Hawd workaws get wich.”
    “Yes, that’s true.” Vince couldn’t remember the terms of payment he’d promised The Home.
    “Goss Word.”
    Vince smiled.
    Amit wiggled his fingers for Vince to leave. “Hard work means posperwity. Oney a fool idles away hiss time.”
    “Okay, Amit. I’ll get back to work then.”

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
    Vince didn’t like that twinkle in Billy Lewis’s eye when he looked up from the counter in the office of his auto-repair garage.
    The fu-man-chu bent up. “What brings you here, today, Vince?” There was a definite lilt in his voice, as if he’d expected the visit.
    “Oil change.” Vince didn’t look to see the incredulity likely stretched across his best friend’s face.
    Billy checked his watch. “It hasn’t been a year yet.”
    “You told me to bring it every three months or three-thousand miles.”
    Billy tapped at the keyboard in front of him. “I’ve been telling you that for ten years now, and you still go six, at least. What gives?”
    Obviously, Billy already knew. Vince just couldn’t say the words, so instead he dropped his attention to the grime-covered floor. “You ever clean this place?”
    Billy strolled around the counter and laid a beefy forearm across Vince’s shoulder. “Come on, Vince. Fess up.”
    Vince chewed his lip. “Look, I finally make it in for regular car maintenance and you give me grief.”
    “Fine, let’s get your car on the rack. Give me the keys, and I’ll have it ready for you in a half hour.”
    Vince slapped the fob into the man’s hand, and Billy drove the Elantra into the shop. “I got it from here. Have a seat in the waiting room.”
    Vince didn’t move from the concrete floor of the bay as Billy stepped out of the car. Billy shook his head. “It’s the woman isn’t it?”
    “What woman?”
    Billy squinted. “Just cuz I don’t got your high-priced education doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
    Vince glared back. “Enough with the ‘dumb-redneck-pride’ junk and help me out, here.”
    Here it comes. “What do ya mean ‘dumb red-neck pride?’” Billy looked about to pounce.
    “That’s where you get all offended ’cause I insulted your intelligence, then puffed up because you know you have more common sense than the book-learnin’ dude.”
    “I don’t do that.”
    “You do it all the time, Billy.”
    “Do not.”
    “Come on, Billy. Can’t you see I’m having a hard time?”
    Billy’s head shook. “That’s what I’ve been saying. You’re the one denying it.”
    “Fine. You’re smarter than I am. Okay?”
    Billy’s chest lifted. “Nah. Just got more common sense.”
    Vince sagged his shoulders.
    “Sorry, man.” Billy rolled his hands in a move-along gesture. “Empty up. You obviously need something.”
    “I’m not sure I can put words to it.” Vince leaned against a greasy work table, only to get his tan