by Kim Karr
He didn’t even see it coming. I reached over my mom, grabbing the front of his white shirt and punched him straight in the nose. Blood sprayed across my gray sweatshirt and onto my mom's pink nightgown. The punch didn’t even faze Skinner because he was so out of it. All he did was smile in my direction, his nose dripping with blood, and it covered his teeth, and for some reason, that pissed me off more. So, I punched him again and he fell backwards on the bed, and then landed onto the floor. My mom stirred and mumbled something, I tried to shake her awake, but nothing happened.
“Damn it, Mom, every time,” I yelled, hoping she would be her old self and talk back to me for yelling at her.
I heard groans coming from the opposite side of the bed and Skinner stumbled to his feet. He dabbed his face and glared across the bed at me. “Did you hit me?” he asked though clench teeth.
“No. You’re a clumsy ass who fell off the bed,” I said, turning to leave the room, but Skinner grabbed the hood of my hoodie, tugging me backwards, spinning me in the process, so I would face him directly.
“You hit me!” he yelled, while spitting blood in my face. I quickly wiped away the splattered blood with my sleeve.
I shoved him hard off me, but he came back swinging, hitting me in the jaw. I heard and felt a pop in my head. Skinner tackled me with a blow of his shoulder, slamming me back through the open door of the room, and into the wall in the hall. The wind burned from my lungs and I could hardly breathe.
“You fucking hit me, Tucker!”
Now more than ever, I was really angry. I could feel the rage boiling through my veins, my face burned and my heart started to race faster. “You fucking hit me too!”
I shoved at his shoulders to release the hold he had on me. He stumbled back into the room and fell on his ass; his head hitting the metal bed frame as he went unconscious.
I fixed my sweatshirt and made my way towards the front door. I couldn’t stay another damn minute with that jackass; he was a loser. I locked up the apartment and went back down the crappy stairs. I banged on the manager's door and waited for him to answer. Bouncing with rage, I felt like I was going to explode. When he finally answered, he looked at my bloodied hoodie and shook his head.
“Skinner is causing problems again,” I said through gritted teeth. Then I started explaining what had happened.
He shook his head some more. “Your problem, Tuck,” he told me, then slammed the door in my face.
Shit!
I raked my hands through my long brown hair. Normally, he would call the cops to get Skinner to leave the building; I guess Sam was done helping my deadbeat drug addict mother and me.
Finally leaving the dirty building, I decided to take the subway and two buses to get to Central Park to a little hide out I always hung around. Some of my friends, that I’m not proud of, hung out there with me. I’ll admit, they’re not good people, but it’s where I belong. They felt more like brothers to me. They came from the same out-skirts as I did and always understood my problems with Skinner. Pulling out a fresh pack of cigarettes from my back pocket, I grabbed one and lit it up. Smoking is a bad habit, something I wish I could break, but never could. I sucked the tobacco down in record time and flicked my butt in the street.
Of course, in the main part of the city, close to Central Park, cabbies honked their horns non-stop. So when I crossed the street and a cab honked at me, it was a chain reaction to flip him off. I kept my head down as I walked down the street, the cold air turned warmer with each passing hour, but out of habit, I pulled my hood up and decided to take shortcut through an alleyway and that’s when I saw her.
A car was parked up against the curb, with the darkest tinted windows, and a girl like no other. Suddenly, an urge came over me to watch her, to stay still. Everything about her looks screamed innocence as she stepped away from the black Bentley Mulsanne.
My eyes took in her pale skin. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun thing that girls do. She wore jeans that clung to her body, with black boots that made her legs look twice as long and a black leather jacket. I was too far away to know what color her eyes were, but whatever color they were, I’m sure they were perfect. I could clearly see her smile from the alleyway. It was simple, yet, wonderful. It brightened up her pale face.
When she walked toward the moving truck, I felt like I could hear every step her black boots made against the asphalt. One of the moving men met her at the back, while the rest opened up the big lift and handed each other pieces of furniture.
Everything screamed out to me in a rush of words, spoiled, rich, snob, brat, daddy's girl, but I brushed it off. She was the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen.
What’s a guy like me doing checking out a high class rich girl on the Upper East Side of town? Central Park West no less… I had no idea.
She moved back to the Bentley as a window was rolling down. She was speaking to whoever was inside, and for some reason this bothered me. Whoever was in the car didn’t show much respect to the vision of this beautiful girl I was looking at. They should have walked her to the door of her new place in New York, or at least made sure she had a key or something.
As she stepped away from the car, it sped off. She was alone now with a big purple bag in one hand, just staring at the back of the Bentley’s taillights. She walked over to the three movers and pointed up to an apartment in the building. The man spoke to her and nodded. She looked back up the street to where the Bentley was disappearing around the corner.
Looking up towards the sky in the morning street, she inhaled a deep breath, and began smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world at that very moment. She was too breath takingly beautiful, even for her own good. I couldn’t help but stare.
Turning, she lowered her head; the beauty of her neck stretched gloriously around as she looked down the alleyway. I couldn’t tell if she saw me. Most of my body was behind a dumpster and my gray sweatshirt hood covered my head, but I swear I saw her little innocent smile curve up on the corner of her mouth before she turned back to the movers starting up the stairs to her new apartment.
So Much It Hurts
Each thundering crash of the ocean waves in the distance administered a dose of therapy to my soul. With my towel draped across my lounge chair, I reclined by the water’s edge sipping a Piña Colada from a hurricane glass adorned by a tiny pink umbrella. My life had all but suffocated me the past few months, and I desperately needed a change of scenery.
Lisa’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Come on, Kaitlyn, let’s go inside and get ready to par-tay,” she called from the edge of the pool, overemphasizing her last word.
I suppressed a laugh. Only late twenty-somethings remember when it was cool to pronounce it ‘par-tay’. No need to point out the fact that we were nearly too old to hit the clubs.
Two guys standing at the tiki bar turned to stare at Lisa as she stepped out of the water. She reminded me of a super model as she brushed her long brown hair away from her eyes. I met Lisa soon after she found out she was pregnant with her second son. I thought she was the most beautiful pregnant woman I had ever seen. However, Lisa’s sweet disposition far outweighed her attractiveness. Like the fair-complexioned cartoon princess, I could almost picture the birds singing to her while they helped her fold the laundry at home. Unaware of the caliber of her beauty, she never seemed to notice when other men were checking her out. She had been happily married to her high school sweetheart for almost seven years.
I chuckled under my breath while I watched the two beefcake rubbernecks at the tiki bar gawk at her over their mirrored aviator sunglasses.
“Ok, let’s go,” I replied before I gulped the rest of my drink.
The other girls were toweling off and grabbing their bags to head upstairs to the condo. I looked around my mini-paradise, content with my surroundings. The palm trees swayed against the warm breeze, while the seagulls flew overhead searching for their next meal. The stark white sand glistened for miles under the hot sun, whi
le the swells of the ocean waves toppled against the shore. For the first time I felt a freedom I had not experienced in a long time.
I left my single life of drinking and dancing behind the day I found out I was pregnant with Eli. Michael and I had no plans of marriage until we saw those two pink lines on that cold November morning. I had set my future of becoming a pediatric psychologist aside while I made arrangements to become a stay-at-home mom. My entire life seemed to have been on hold the last five years. I quickly learned that being a stay-at-home mom was not all picnics and play dates. I felt trapped under the interminable mountain of laundry, amid the infinite overflow of dirty dishes, by the everlasting song of the purple dinosaur, and with the incessant whine of a tired and cranky child. I could not remember the last time I had enjoyed a night out. I was actually looking forward to it.
I assumed Michael and Eli were just sitting down for dinner at Burger Land. Michael, the staunch and successful CPA at a prosperous accounting firm, was much too busy to cook while I was away. He almost balked at the idea of my weekend escape.
“Kaitlyn, I just can’t afford for you to leave right now. I need to go into work in the coming weekends to prepare for several big upcoming meetings. Work is just more important than some silly girls retreat right now.”
“That’s the problem, Michael. Your work. Our lives revolve around your work. You always put your work before your family.”
“My work pays the bills! Last time I checked, dishes and laundry don’t pay the bills.”
“That’s just it, Michael. Dishes and laundry don’t pay the bills, nor do they create a fulfilling life! I’m worth more than just being slave for this family! Do you know how depressing it is when your daily goal in life is to sweep up Goldfish off the floor and dig rocks out of pants pockets before throwing them in the washing machine? I feel like I’m in solitary confinement most of the time. And then my husband comes home and carries his plate of supper into his office only to disappear for hours on end, coming to bed well after I’ve gone to sleep. That happens so often these days that sex is not even in our vocabulary anymore. I’ve spent the last five years in this unfulfilling life, wiping asses and noses, sweeping crumbs off the floor, and passing a practically nonexistent husband occasionally in the hallway!”
Five years of pent up frustration barreled its way out of me in harsh tones and salty tears.
“We all need a break sometimes, Kaitlyn. Don’t you dare think you are the only one sacrificing your needs and wants for this family. I make sacrifices too!”
“Oh, really? You laugh it up with your coworkers at your lavish dinner meetings eating filet mignon with lobster tail and drinking $300 bottles of wine while I sit at home eating chicken nuggets for the third time in a week. When Eli was a baby, you played your endless golf games and slept soundly in your luxurious hotel rooms while I sat at home breastfeeding until my nipples were raw, and spent my nights cleaning up explosive diapers! I never realized those fringe benefits at work were considered sacrifices for you! Please forgive me if I was mistaken!” My seething comments oozed with sarcasm.
Michael glared at me under furrowed eyebrows. He wanted to say something, but refrained. Instead, he just huffed and stomped to his office, slamming the door behind him.
I stared at his office door, half expecting him to open it back up and say whatever it was he seemed to want to say. But, it remained closed. I could already hear him pecking away at his keyboard on his computer. What had happened to us over the past few years? It’s not that we hated each other. We were still cordial most of the time, but our marriage had become stale, stagnant, and downright boring. We worked great together as a team to run a household and raise a child, but most of the time I felt like we were just roommates passing each other in the bathroom, taking turns using the sink. Our conversations used to be interesting and compelling. Now, it seemed the only thing we discussed was whose turn it was to put Eli to bed. His office was his sanctuary, and my nose stayed in a book.
Slowly, I turned around and walked away from his closed office door, in search of my e-reader with its newly downloaded novel.
“If you really want to go, then go. I can rearrange some things at work,” he muttered later that night as I lay in bed scouring the beach resort pamphlet that had come in the mail that afternoon.
“You have no idea how much I need this,” I sighed.
“Then go, enjoy your weekend. I’ll do what I can to make it work,” he grumbled.
With that, he grabbed the blanket and rolled over to go to sleep.
I felt slightly guilty that he would have to rearrange his schedule, but not guilty enough to stay home. I deserved this break. I needed this break before I completely lost my mind.
So, here I was at the beach taking advantage of my much needed getaway, while Michael and Eli probably enjoyed a Classic Burger from Burger Land. Eli would be overjoyed with the idea of a Junior Meal for dinner. He had been begging for one of the new Space Deputy toys for a week.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetie,” I cooed.
“Hey, Mommy,” Eli said happily, “Guess what? I got the new Captain Neptune toy tonight!”
I laughed. “I figured Daddy would take you to Burger Land.”
“Yeah, and it’s so cool, Mom!”
“I bet,” I agreed.
“Wanna talk to Daddy?” Eli blurted out, obviously too busy with his new toy to spend another second talking to me.
“Sure, sweetie. Bye, I love you.”
“Love you too, Mommy!”
“Hey you, are you having fun?” Michael asked as he brought the phone to his ear.
“So far I am. We’re going out tonight too. Karaoke, I think.”
“Sounds fun. I hope you girls have a great time.”
“Well, I guess I better go get ready for our big night out. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Ok, goodnight. Talk to you later.”
“Who’s ready for a night on the town?” Shannon called from the bathroom as she stood in front of the mirror adding the final touches of her makeup. Shannon had been a stay-at-home mom for the last ten years. The epitome of homemaking, she always left me envious of her organizational skills and her level head. Shannon always seemed to have it all together.
“I know I am!” Tori yelled from the kitchen as she poured some vodka into her glass of orange juice. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been out with the girls!” Without a doubt, Tori was the most physically fit mom of our group. Almost nothing prevented her from keeping her strict workout schedule at the local YMCA. She had muscle definition in places I couldn’t even imagine having muscles at all.
Together, we were excited to have a few nights of fun without catering to the needs of our families.
I sat with my back to the stage. I had immersed myself so deeply in the conversation that I barely noticed karaoke had ended and a band had started setting up on stage. My friends and I were laughing hysterically at the fools we had made of ourselves during our poor rendition of Aretha Franklin’s song, Respect. Downing a few drinks prior to our performance gave me the courage to embarrass myself on stage.
In the background, a voice emerged from the microphone.
“Testing…one, two, three…Testing…”
The hair on the back of my neck stood upright. My body seemed to recognize the smooth and soothing voice, but my mind could not recall it.
I quickly spun around in my seat and stared at the figure on stage. We sat too far away from the stage, and the terrible lighting in the bar restricted my view.
“What’s the matter, Kaitlyn?” Shannon sounded concerned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“That voice. It sounds so familiar. I’ve heard it before,” I stammered.
“Honestly Kaitlyn, the sign on the door said this band is debuting tonight and besides, who do you know that lives at the beach?” Tori asked.
“No one, I guess,” I sighed.
But, there was something
about the voice that I recognized. I felt sure I had heard it before.
The mysterious voice began to sing and my thoughts drowned out the conversation around me. I dug deep into my memory grasping for any recollection I could muster.
Nothing sprang to my mind. But, that soothing melodic voice, crept up the back of my spine, tingling and sensuous, radiating through my chest. I just could not conjure up the face connected to the voice. The timbre resonated familiarity, but the perplexity remained.
“Seriously, Kaitlyn, what’s gotten into you?” Tori looked at me wide-eyed. “You don’t look so good.”
I didn’t realize it until she said it, but my face felt flush and my palms felt sweaty.
“I don’t know, guys. I just can’t explain it. I think I know the lead singer of this band. What was the band’s name again?”
“Big Five, or something cheesy like that. Why?” Lisa piped up.
“I don’t know. I just can’t place it…”
The voice on the stage mesmerized me. The face connected to the voice remained a mystery as the conversation swirled around me. I sat there and considered just getting up and walking toward the front of the stage to get a good look and quickly solve the mystery. But, to avoid looking like some desperate middle-aged groupie heading to the stage for attention, I stayed seated and half-heartedly listened to Tori drone on about her workout routine and her ‘clean eating’ diet.
Suddenly, the voice was behind me.
“Kaitlyn?”
The girls at my table froze. Their eyes looked up at the mystery man standing behind me. I whirled around to see who caused my friends’ jaws to drop in awe. My breath caught in my throat while my heart immediately began pounding in my chest. A face from a long forgotten past stood in front of me.
