Her Russian Millionaire

Jalisa believed that lying was okay only for survival. She had agreed with the woman and listened to her drone on and on about how Jalisa would go about adopting her sister once she was out of the halfway house, all the while planning on taking Nikita and running. The next Sunday, the donation plate went around in honor of their father. The money would go to Jalisa and Nikita to help pay for his medical bills.

They took it and ran, asking God for forgiveness for not using the money for the intended purpose. Jalisa paid for a one-way bus ticket for two to the farthest away city they could find: Los Angeles, California. The Department of Child Services would not follow them there. The sisters would have a new life with nothing to tear them apart.

The two packed as light as they could: a few cans of food, toothbrush, blanket, Nikita’s stuffed animal, Jalisa’s diary, the rest of their cash, and their father’s Bible. Around their necks, they wore the lockets their father had bought them for their baptism. They were hung on dainty golden chains with their initials in rhinestones on the front plate. Before they left, the two cut out a picture of their father and pressed it inside the locket. If worse came to worse, Jalisa would sell hers for food.

“Hey.” Nikita pulled on her sister, bringing Jalisa back to the sidewalk. “You almost walked past that one.”

Jalisa looked over at the store Nikita was pointing to. It was a gas station with two broken pumps and four working ones. Men dressed in ratty shirts lingered around the corner, smoke drifting from their lips. Jalisa didn’t need to be close to know it probably wasn’t cigarette smoke.

“I don’t know,” she said warily. “Maybe one of the places that I put in an application at will hire me.

“I doubt it.” Nikita frowned. “You have no references. Even if you did, you couldn’t give them out because the department might figure out where we are.”

“You never know.” Jalisa had spent most of the day filling out stacks of repetitive questions at every fast food restaurant, grocery store, and retail store they passed. Nikita pursed her lips, and Jalisa relented. They walked into the gas station, giving the men at the corner a wide space.

“Are you hiring?” Jalisa asked the man behind the Quick-Stop gas station counter. He shook his head no. “Please? I’ll do anything. I’ll work late nights or early mornings.”

“No,” the man said slowly. Jalisa turned away to see Nikita staring heavily at the food on display.

“Do you know of anywhere that is hiring?” Jalisa asked.

“No. Now, are you gonna pick something out or not?” The man’s angry voice made Jalisa shrink back into her skin. She quickly pulled Nikita out of the store before the devil tempted her into stealing any food.

Holding back her tears, she went into the motel next to the Quick-Stop. The front desk receptionist was friendly until Jalisa asked her for an application. The woman practically threw it at her before huffing off to get the manager. Her looked over Jalisa with a gaze that made her wish she had on something thicker than a red plaid shirt and jeans.

“Well, well…I can make an opening for you.” He leered at Jalisa’s curvy figure and ample bosom.

“Not interested. Have a nice day.” She crossed her arms over her chest as soon they stepped outside.

“Why did you say no? He had a job for you!” Nikita turned on her sister, unwise in the ways of ungodly men.

“He wasn’t asking me to be a maid.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll leave it at that. I’ll tell you more about it when you’re older.”

“Look…I really hate to say it, but let’s just make a sign.” Nikita propped her hand upon her hip.

Jalisa’s pack hung on her like a sorrow. She was nervous. With each rejection, the pressure to have a success grew greater. It was becoming darker outside. The sky purpled, and the sun hung lazily in the clouds. As the oldest, she must provide for her sister.

“Okay,” Jalisa whispered, her shoulder’s sagging. She didn’t want to beg, but that was probably their best option.

The two picked a piece of the street and sat down. Jalisa wrote on a page of her diary ‘Homeless. Anything helps.’ Nikita held out a cup the two had plucked from the trash. People walked by them completely unfazed by the tragedy of the two homeless girls on the sidewalk.

After about an hour, Nikita started sobbing. The only money the two had made was a nickel given by a passing homeless man with the same sign. The three prayed together for prosperity, and he went on his way. Nikita grabbed the coin out of the cup and held it between her fingers.

“It’s getting cold,” Nikita whispered, her chin quivering. The unspoken question hung in the cold air between them: Where are we going to go?

“We can’t go to the motel we were just in.” Jalisa knew it probably had the lowest rates in town, but it was out of the question. “We’ll find another one.”

“We can’t.” Nikita curled up next to her sister. “Motels require money.”

“We have some money left over from the bus ticket, yeah? We’ll use that.” Jalisa put her diary away, and they set out in search of a cheap motel.

Fat tears ran down Nikita’s cheeks in a near constant stream. The grief of their father plus the insecurity and fear of their situation was not something that a fourteen-year-old should have to deal with. Jalisa had to look away, the feeling of failure becoming too much. Just as she was starting to wonder if the two should just hitch a ride back to Ohio, where at least Nikita would be warm and fed, when they found a motel with low rates.

It was not a chain motel, but a family-owned local motel. The building was falling apart. Letters falling off of the sign made the name unreadable. Graffiti decorated the red brick sides. Four cars were in the parking lot, one with the engine still running and the headlights on. A shiver worked its way up Jalisa’s spine. Over the years, she had learned that that was the Lord warning her of danger.

“I know it’s not…nice,” Nikita said, “but it’s fifty a night.”

“We’ll…think about it.” Jalisa tried to smile at her sister. She was desperate enough for Nikita to have a bed to sleep in that she would figure out how to make it safe, even if that meant staying up all night to watch over her.

“I’ll count the money,” Nikita said excitedly. “Let’s sit on the bench.”

The metal bench was even colder than the fall air. Jalisa couldn’t imagine what it would be like once night came. The temperature would plummet, and the more unsavory people would come out to play. God only knows what would happen to the girls if one of them found the two huddled in an alley.