F. Eugene Barber
Lupe knew she was in trouble. She had to get out of New York. Skippio’s gang was looking for her. Where could she go? She shut her eyes and stabbed a pen point into the table of Area Codes in the front of the phone book. She packed her meager belongings and caught a taxi to the bus station in Queens. Eleven hours later she was in her new home.
F. Eugene Barber was born on a sharecrop farm in the Midwest at the start of the Great Depression and attended a rural school with ten other students ranging from the first to the eighth grades. Mr. Barber served in the Air Force during the Korean War as a B-36 Mechanic and Crew Chief. Using the GI Bill, he earned an AS in engineering, a BA, and an MBA. The Aerospace industry has been his passion and profession most of his adult life. He is a sometimes consultant on FAA and DOD projects. His last project was for two years on the Airborne Laser project; Birk Flight Test Center, Edwards AFB. He has worked and traveled all over the world to such far away places as North and South America, Europe, Siberia, South Africa, the Orient, Canada, Australia, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, and England; he and his wife lived in Yorkshire for a time and they now reside in Nevada.
A little over an hour later Macio came back. He had already heard that she was in trouble the day before, but he wanted to make sure and just how much. He had been running hard; he was almost ill.
Breathlessly, “You gotta go! They know you. The word is out to look for a rubia named Lupe. They are offering money. Lupe, your rubia hair gave you away, you should stain it. Now just go!” She stood there, looking at him. Macio took the souvenir tray and hurriedly left the park. He didn’t want to be near her.
Lupe yelled at him, “I sold a little Statue of Liberty! He didn’t hear her; “I’ll pay him later. He didn’t give me time to even say goodbye.” She had made up her mind; she must hide. She turned and headed towards the bus stop, she would catch one going to the west side. Perhaps she could go out around 72nd and stay a week or so. Scippo’s men never came out that far. She knew of an alley.
As she walked, she thought about her situation. Lupe panicked. She had to get away. She stopped and looked around. Central Park was becoming crowded. New York was becoming crowded. The west end would do no good. She caught a bus and then transferred to one heading towards the eastside.
She thought of stopping at the Church for a few minutes before catching the next bus, “That is not a good idea. They might have someone there.” Lupe crossed herself as the second bus passed the Church.
Lupe got off a few blocks from her grandmother’s; stopped in a little variety store, and then walked to the flat. She unlocked the door. Her grandmother was still at work. Lupe stripped off her sweater and short-sleeved blouse, “No sense in ruining my clothes with hair dye.”
She read the instructions on the box she had purchased at the store. The label said to remove all dirt, soap, oils, and hair conditioners. She washed her hair vigorously. She mixed and applied the liquid, using the thin, plastic glove inside the box. An hour later she looked in the mirror. She jumped back, “I do not know myself. Now what shall I do? Or really, where shall I go?”
