The United States of Rebellia

by RJ Pritchett

“Why does it matter? It’s only going to live for two-three weeks- tops,” Margaret whispered to me with her arms folded. She was finally wearing that sweater I bought her earlier because the air conditioning made the mall feel like a refrigerator.

  “Dad, look! Is that Mom?” Taylor pointed across the floor. I needed to squint my eyes because the person she pointed to was too far for these old eyes to see. I saw her. She was walking our way.

  “Oh, no. Where do we put this?” I said, looking at the present I bought for our anniversary. I didn’t want her to see it yet.

  “Put it in the bag with Taylor’s shoes. I’ll hold the bag so you can say that this is mines.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said, handing the bag to Margaret. My wife was approaching. She didn’t notice us until Taylor called her.

  “Mom!” Taylor shouted and ran over to her, “look at my new fish!”

  My wife looked at her and then looked at me. Her eyes almost popped out of their sockets when she saw us coming, “Really, Bernard. A fish? And some new sneakers.”

  “She promised she’ll take care of it,” I said, looking down at my smiling daughter. I didn’t know how I was going to explain the new sneakers, so I changed the subject and hoped that she would go along with it. “What are you doing here?”

  “A little shopping,” she said. She was probably getting something for me for our anniversary tomorrow. I guess I’m not the bad guy for going shopping at the last minute after all. She motioned toward a man next to her. He was staring at the mannequins in a nearby clothing store. I can’t believe I was just noticing this guy’s presence. “You remember Jasper. My friend from work, right?”

  “Who?” Margaret asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” I lied. Who the hell is this guy? And why is he in the mall with my wife?

  “You know…” she knew I was lying. She leaned in and whispered, “the gay one.”

  That changes everything. “Oh!” I said, laughing. This drew his attention. “Yeah, now I remember you told me about him. The guy from work, right?”

  “Dad, she just said that,” Margaret said.

  “Oh, Bernard!” The guy comes over and shakes my hand, “wow. I haven’t seen you since the wedding. You’re much more handsome than I remember.”

  Wow. That just made me a little uncomfortable. I could hear Taylor giggling but I shake off the awkwardness. “Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself,” I said. I vaguely remember meeting this guy now.

  “Whoa, hold on, Jasper,” my wife stepped in between us, “he’s mine. Get your own husband.”

  “I’m trying,” he said. I could see him flashing his naked ring finger at me. He winked. What the hell is this guy’s deal?

  “We should, uh… get going,” I grabbed Margaret and Taylor by their hands and kissed my wife on the lips. Hopefully, he knew that I wasn’t in any way interested in what he was trying to sell me. “See you at home, Sweetie.”

  “Okay, bye,” Meagan waved at us, “and Taylor, if you don’t take care of that fish, it’s going back to the pet store, along with your father. Understand?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Taylor called back.

  “There’s something creepy about that guy,” Margaret said when Meagan and that Jasper guy were out of earshot.

  “Are you saying that because he’s gay?” Taylor asked, “because, if you are; that’s not nice.”

  “No. He was totally hitting on dad,” Margaret said, screwing up her face, “so gross.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said, ignoring the joke, “we have some more shopping to do.”

  After committing financial suicide, we returned home at about four o’clock. I left all the gifts in the trunk of the car. While Taylor was getting her new fish situated, Margaret ran straight to her room. My phone rang as soon as I sat down on the couch. It was my best friend, Anthony.

  “Anthony, what’s up? Do you have my hundred dollars yet?”

  “Are you watching the news right now?” he sounded nervous.

  “… No, why?”

  “There was a shooting at the mall,” he said, “somebody was shot and killed. It’s crazy, man.”

  I grabbed the remote and clicked the TV on and there I see it, Breaking News flashing across the screen. An aerial view of the mall was being shown with an ambulance in front and police cars all over the place. We were just there. My wife is there. “Holy shit. My wife is there!” I shouted. Taylor jumped, spilling a bit of water on the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking at the TV.

  “Anthony, I’ll have to call you back,” I hung up the phone without hearing his reply. “Margaret!” I called out, “Margaret! Watch your sister while I’m gone!” I slammed the door and ran to my car. The damn garage door was taking its sweet time opening. I don’t even remember closing it, now that I think about it. This was an emergency.

  I remember praying the entire ride back to the mall. I tried my best to stay within the speed limit, but I wanted to get there as fast as I could. When I pulled up into the parking lot, I was stopped by a security guard.

  “You can’t go in there, Sir.”

  “Fuck that!” I sped past him, into the parking lot. I parked the car as well as I could under the dire circumstance. My wife is probably shot right now. Anthony didn’t tell me who was hit but it could’ve been her. The mall wasn’t that crowded when we were there earlier.

  I saw my wife. She was safe but distressed. Must’ve been traumatized after such a crazy incident. I ran up to her while the police were asking questions. “I didn’t see anything. It happened so fast.”

  I ran over and hugged her as tight as I could. Thank God that she wasn’t hurt. I don’t know what I would’ve done if… I looked around.

  “Jasper was shot,” she said, crying into my chest.

  “What?” even though I didn’t know the guy very well, I was completely shocked and truly sad, “damn, what the hell happened?”

  “And who are you?” one of the cops asked, looking at me.

  “My husband,” my wife answered, wiping her eyes.

  “Well, Jasper Moon has been shot and killed. We suspect the shooter is a man who had a .22 pistol on his person at the time of the shooting. You wouldn’t know anything about that, right?”

  “What? Hell no,” I didn’t mean to say it the way it came out, but it sounded like they were trying to accuse me of shooting him, “I was here shopping earlier, but then I went home with my two daughters. I saw the news and came straight here. Oh, Sweetie, are you alright?”

  She didn’t answer. I knew she wasn’t alright. In fact, she wasn’t alright for the next couple of weeks. She was traumatized. We didn’t really do anything for our anniversary; we didn’t even exchange gifts. During the next couple of days, she would cry herself to sleep at night.

  “He would never hurt anybody. Why would someone do something like that?” she kept asking me as if I had the answer. I came to the conclusion that it must’ve been a hate crime.

  Things got worse after the funeral. I didn’t go because of work, but she went. When I got home and asked her about it, she gave me the cold shoulder, silently letting me know that she didn’t want to talk about it.

  I was heartbroken as well because I know that she was really hurt. That little competition on TV kept the kids occupied for the two weeks after the incident, but I was miserable.

  A few months had passed since then and I was still miserable. Home was tough, my marriage was falling apart partly because of the emotional distance between my wife and I. Work was frustrating because I couldn’t sow my wild oats at home (If you catch my drift). I was stressed out.

  My wife and I got into a heated exchange once because of the emotional distance between us. “Meagan, I understand you’re hurt, but you have to stop treating me like I’m the one who shot him,” those words slipped out of my mouth during the fight and she responded -not with words, but by throwing a small glass vase at my head. Luckily, the kids weren’t home to witness that. Luckily, I
ducked so the vase didn’t hit me.

  I spent a lot of time at the bar. Looking at the sexy bartender through the corner of my eyes. I tried not to make it obvious, but she kept catching me staring and she would just smile at me. Just looking at her beautiful smile made me extremely horny but on this day, I didn’t even come to the bar to see her, I was supposed to be meeting a childhood friend. She just received an honorable discharge from the Navy, so she was back in Charlotte to stay. It has been years since we even talked. She found me on one of those social media sites. Margaret made an account for me years ago, but I barely used it until I noticed a message from her. We exchanged numbers and planned to meet at the bar for a few drinks while watching the Panthers game on Monday Night Football.

  “Bernard George?” she said when she first saw me, “wow. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” she gave me a tight hug.

  “Teresa!” I shouted, I was a little buzzed but nobody paid me any attention, “there you are. In the flesh. I haven’t seen you since--”

  “The summer after high school graduation,” she cut me off.

  “Yeah,” I said, “wow. That was a really long time ago.”

  “Twenty-one years to be exact,” she said, holding up two fingers on one hand and one on the other. The fact that I could tell how many fingers she held up, meant that I wasn’t close to being drunk yet.

  “That’s a really long time,” I said again, thinking about high school. I met Meagan there in the ninth grade, but the two of us hadn’t started dating until I gathered up enough courage to ask her to Senior prom. I wanted to ask Teresa, but that would’ve been weird because of our friendship. Teresa has met Meagan before. The two didn’t really hit it off, but they’ve met once before. They actually almost had a fight because Meagan thought Teresa was flirting with me one time and as you may know by now, Meagan gets super jealous. Especially when I’m around pretty girls like Teresa or that bartender over there.

  We chatted for a few minutes, shared a few drinks and a few laughs. She’s still the same Teresa Coleman that I remember. Nothing has changed. She told me a few of her Navy stories. It sounded like she had a lot of fun there. I also remember zoning out while she was talking. Man, she was looking good that night. That black dress she was wearing was really tight, showing off her curves. She looked a hell of a lot younger than I thought she would. I never looked at Teresa that way before… my mind was elsewhere.

  “Bernard!” she waved her hand across my face.

  “Huh?” I snapped out of my stupor.

  She laughed, “same old, Benny.”

  At that point, nobody called me Benny since high school. Wow, hearing her call me that, brought a lot of memories back. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she smiled that beautiful smile of hers. The bartender served a shot of whiskey to Teresa. I had a feeling she winked at me too. Oh, my goodness that woman was looking so beautiful that night. Those short shorts that she was wearing as well as that Panthers jersey. There’s literally nothing sexier than a beautiful woman wearing your favorite football team’s jersey. Nothing else compares. Meagan would never wear a Panthers jersey. She would go out of her way to hate anything I love.

  “When are you going to stop having eye sex with the bartender and answer my question?” Teresa asked.

  “Huh? What?” I asked back, “I’m sorry. You have my full undivided attention now. What was your question?”

  “Are you still with that… Meagan girl?” she drunk the shot of whiskey in one gulp.

  “Yeah,” I said, “we’re married now.”

  “Whoa. Married? Wait… why aren’t you wearing your ring then?” she asked.

  Oh, shit. I finally realized that I wasn’t wearing my ring. Maybe that’s why that sexy bartender kept smiling at me. She must’ve thought I was available. But never mind that, where the hell is my ring? I found myself looking underneath the bar, underneath coasters. I even told Teresa to stand up, so I could see if she was sitting on it. I was so drunk. I couldn’t find it. But then, I remembered that I took it off to wash the dishes earlier that day. I left it on the sink. What if Meagan sees it? She would probably think I left her. Aw, damn. Now I have another argument waiting for me when I get home. Hopefully, she doesn’t notice it. I wasn’t willing to take that chance, so I picked up my phone and dialed Margaret’s cell phone.

  “Hello?” she answered after a couple of rings

  “Hello, Margaret, can you please do me a favor and see if my wedding band is in the kitchen by the sink?”

  “Okay, hold on,” Margaret sighed, she must’ve been in the middle of an important phone call. It took her a while to return so I’m guessing she was in the bedroom and had to walk all the way downstairs to the kitchen. “I don’t see it,” she said.

  Damn. That means Meagan must’ve already found it. I sighed and rubbed my eyes, “Oh, alright. Thanks anyway. Love you, bye.”

  “Love you too, goodbye.”

  “Your daughter?” Teresa asked. I forgot she was there for a moment. I was too preoccupied thinking about this argument that my wife was going to throw in my face. I was nervous as all hell. Do I call her? No. I shouldn’t. She probably wouldn’t care about anything I had to say. She’ll be mad anyway.

  “Never mind,” I said aloud to myself. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I meant to think that.

  “Huh?” Teresa said.

  “Yeah, that’s my daughter. The oldest… Margaret.”

  “Really?” Teresa smiled, “how old is she?”

  “She just turned uh… sixteen,” I said, still thinking about the ring, “a few days ago, actually.”

  “It’s crazy that you have a sixteen-year-old,” Teresa said, “that makes me feel old.”

  “You and me both,” I sighed, taking another shot, “I can feel the distance between us though. The teenage years, you know. She doesn’t want to spend a lot of time with me anymore. She’s always out with her friends. I think she’s got a boyfriend now too. I gotta keep my eyes on her. Everything’s been crazy lately. You heard about the guy that got shot a few months back?”

  “Uh… I don’t think so,” Teresa took another shot. I think she was competing with me to see which one of us could drink more because she was putting those shots away pretty quick.

  “Well, one of my wife’s friends got shot at the mall. She was with him when it all happened. It really traumatized her. She’s going to therapy and all of that, but I don’t really see a lot of progress. Life has been hard ever since that day. Speaking of hard, I don’t even remember the last time I’ve had sex… I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Teresa said, “It’s been a while for me too. You’re not alone in that department.”

  “Are you married?” I asked, even though I didn’t see a ring.

  “Nope,” she shook her head, “I never had any kids either, and I’m damn near forty. Is that sad?”

  “A little,” I laughed, “no, it’s not. There’s no problem with not having kids. You don’t have to deal with the countless hours of changing pampers, making bottles, soccer practices or nothing… You don’t have to see your eleven-year-old… watching news stories about explosions and death tolls... and you don’t have to… question if your sixteen-year-old is growing up too fast,” my words were beginning to slur.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Teresa laughed, trying to take the glass out of my hand even though I could tell she was drunk too.

  “No, I can still manage,” I said, “I might not be able to drive home later, but I’ll just hop in a cab when I’m ready to go. So what’s going on in the old personal life? Anything interesting.”

  “Not really,” she said, sounding ashamed. At least that’s how I think she sounded. I don’t really remember.

  “Not really?” I asked, “are you single? Don’t tell me you’re single. How can you be single?”

  “Bernard, keep it down,” she grabbed my arm. I didn’t even know I was yelling. “Do you h
ave to put my business out there like that?”

  “No,” I said, “I was just wondering. You are really, really, really, really…” I burped, “really… How many times did I say ‘really’?”

  “I lost count after three,” she laughed, taking another shot.

  “really, really beautiful, Teresa. And I’m not just saying that because I want to get in your pants. That’s the truth.”

  “What?” she said, smirking a little bit.

  “Oh, I meant -that… I didn’t want to… I think I should go,” I stood up, “I’ve had enough. Bartender! Beautiful, beautiful bartender. If you’re looking for me, I’m at the bar…tender…” I started singing off key to the lady while Teresa laughed, “how much do I owe you?”

  “You already paid for your drinks…” the bartender laughed, exchanging looks with Teresa.

  “Never mind. Here.” I think I handed her a hundred-dollar bill as well as a fifty, “you’re the best.”

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling, “get home safely.”

  “If I don’t, then blame her,” I pointed to Teresa and laughed, “she’s my bodyguard for the night. She just came from the Army. Everybody give it up for Teresa! She’s an Army veteran!” I shouted to the entire bar. Everyone in that place applauded her and then the “USA” chants started.

  “I was in the Navy,” Teresa whispered, but I paid little attention to her.

  “Yeah!” I shouted with two fists in the air, “now I’m about to go home to my crazy ass wife, and I’m drunk as hell so wish me luck!”

  “Good luck!” they chanted while pounding on the bar and the tables they sat at, “Good luck! Good luck! Good Luck!”

  Teresa and I laughed while we stepped outside. I immediately started to feel lightheaded as soon as the wind blew in my face, “Teresa, you’re a woman so a cab would come quicker if you-” I hiccupped, “-flagged it down.”

  I remember seeing how wobbly she walked with those stilettos on. It was a funny sight, I know that because I remember laughing at her to the point where my ribs were killing me. She eventually hailed a taxi for me and I remember saying ‘goodnight’ to her.

  I didn’t fight with my wife when I got home. She wasn’t upset with me at all like I thought she was going to be. I was surprised when she approached me, kissing me with her arms wrapped around my neck. We made our way towards the couch while swapping saliva. I dropped her on the couch and the two of us laughed aloud. I remember shushing her, so we wouldn’t wake the kids up but soon after, we started making out again. The feeling was so relieving to me, it felt fresh, spontaneous. I felt young and alive again. We haven’t made out since before Margaret was born. It’s not really a thing for married couples, especially couples that have been married for over twenty years.