by Holly Hood
He worked on my shorts finally freeing me.
“I’ll be back,” he said jumping up. He headed down the hallway in nothing but his birthday suit. I sat up, almost nude myself.
It was thrilling in a weird way to see such a personal side of someone.
“What are you doing?” I called, growing a little impatient.
“Just grabbing a condom,” he said back.
I plopped down on the couch, trailing my fingers across my stomach feeling oddly comfortable as I waited for him to return.
I barely heard the front door slam against the wall as an enraged blonde came flying in the house, her fist swinging in my direction.
“Who the hell are you, bitch!” She yelled, dropping her purse on the ground ready to fight me.
I was already in the kitchen with my clothes in my hand. I rounded the table dodging every object flying by me as I hopped into my shorts.
“He obviously has a girlfriend,” I muttered. She rushed the table, flipping it on its side. I backed up, tugging my shirt on. Finally I was fully clothed.
“You’re damn right he has a girlfriend. Ryan where you at? You sorry son of a bitch,” she yelled. “I’m telling my brother and he’s going to beat the piss out of you.”
I felt bad, but at the same time I was angry. I was in another situation where I had to fight my way out.
“You get away from me or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” I warned. I kicked the chair over to show I meant what I said.
She let out a guttural scream crashing over the table, her hands finding my hair; she flipped me on the floor. I held onto her arms, fighting to get on my side. The trick was never ending up on bottom. Bottom meant your face was about to be pummeled. Bottom meant you were shit out of luck. Aunt Wanda had taught me everything I needed to know about fighting.
I pressed my knees into her stomach gaining control.
“Don’t you touch me!” I spit in her face. I swung my fist, colliding with her pretty little nose, her cute little chin.
She rolled over, taking me with her. I couldn’t believe such a petite little blonde had such muscle behind her. I fought against her, my head slamming against the floor.
“Why are you in my house with Ryan? Who the hell are you?” She swung hitting me in the face with her fist, and then clawed me with her painted nails.
Ryan finally showed himself. He was dressed now. He ripped her off of me along with a chunk of my hair. I jumped up from the ground and started for the door, but I didn’t make it. She jumped on my back like a rabid monkey. I spun back around losing my footing and crashed onto the floor.
Ryan yelled at her, telling her to let me go which only sent her into more of a rage.
Suddenly there was gun fire. It sliced through my eardrums making everything feel like a dream. I lifted myself from the ground, looking down at the blonde cowering in fear of Aunt Wanda who had the gun aimed right at her head. Not a single ounce of Wanda trembled or was afraid as she locked on her target.
“Stay where you are, bitch,” she growled. She motioned me to get out of the house. I looked at Ryan one last time; his face was as white as a ghost. First he had been caught with another woman and then a crazy lady barged in his house wielding a pistol.
“Let’s go,” I said from the doorway, hoping it didn’t turn out ugly. I looked down at my bloody knuckles unsure of what to do next.
“You should be lucky I don’t blow your pretty little head all over this shithole.” She screamed at the blonde kicking the coffee table.
“I’m sorry!” she offered from her crouched position on the floor. Ryan stayed where he was not even looking at Wanda.
“Let’s go, please,” I begged.
“Kendall, shut your mouth. This is your mess anyways. You should know better than to try and screw cute men with houses.” She scolded me.
I sighed, walking down stairs, wishing I had a gun of my own to blow her head off.
Two shots rang out. I headed back over to Jon’s to gather our things. I knew the drill. As I walked through the front door I could smell the smoke and stale beer. I stepped over Jon’s lifeless body on the floor. I passed the creep who had nearly tried to have his way with me, the bullet hole in his head left a trail down the side of his face, if you ignored the wound he just looked like he was sleeping.
I wasn’t sure where the other one was, but I knew he was dead.
Finding the suitcase I opened it up to find a stack of cash and a bag of marijuana.
“I guess that’s what you get for dealing drugs, huh, Jon?” I said, laughing at him as I passed to get to the door.
Wanda was in the yard unscrewing the license plate from Jon’s pickup. She was always quick with this, replacing it with another set of plates before we were back on the road.
She jumped to her feet taking the suitcase from me, her expression was serious as she hustled to throw our things in the truck.
“Go in there and see what you can find,” she ordered.
I headed back into Ryan’s house. His body slumped against the wall of the kitchen. I clutched my stomach feeling sick. He didn’t deserve to die. He was a nice man. I knew he was a nice man. I knew no one would probably find him for a while either. He just seemed that lonely.
I rummaged through the drawers ending up with sixty bucks and a bottle of pain pills.
I jogged back out to the truck. Wanda was already ready to go. She studied the items, opening up the bottle of pills and swallowed a few before tossing them beside her on the seat.
“Well Kendall, here we go. On the road again,” she said with a smirk as we headed down the road.
June 16th
It had been more than a week and we were still hightailing it across the country. We had barely stopped in days for more than a bathroom break or a quick bite to eat.
My legs were cramped. I found myself fantasizing about beds and how nice it would be to just sprawl out in one and sleep for days. I hadn’t been getting much sleep lately.
When she killed someone I was haunted by it. I could see their blood, their lifeless bodies. I saw a lot in all the years I was running around with Wanda, but that never made it okay. I knew I was never going to turn as cold as she was about murder.
I tried to come up with an excuse for her. Why would someone do such a thing? There was no excuse for Wanda. She was just a cold calculating person. She cared about nobody but herself. And that would never change.
After she killed somebody there was no going back on it. We couldn’t undo the bad choice Aunt Wanda made. You just had to realize you were going to always be looking over your shoulder. Waiting for the day when you were caught and thrown into prison.
I never killed anyone. I didn’t have it in me. I just stood off in the distance waiting for it all to be over with. Those moments were surreal, everything slowed. I couldn’t hear anything when it was happening. My heart slowed to such a beat that I thought it was close to stopping altogether. My muscles turned to stone and I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die.
Once it was over I tried to take myself out of the situation. I pretended they weren’t there as I slinked through their lives taking whatever was of value. And talk about worrying. Everything I touched made me feel I was one fingerprint closer to jail or the electric chair.
I knew Aunt Wanda took me down with her a long time ago. I was an accomplice as far as I saw it. It would never matter to the world why I stayed and put up with her issues. I would be seen as the girl who aided her psycho Aunt on a killing spree across America.
What did I want out of life?
I wanted a chance to be me. I never had a single moment to enjoy anything. I was always the neglected kid that turned into the gypsy teen on the road with her aunt. I just wanted to live. Probably part of the reason I didn’t fight Wanda on letting me leave. Being with her, at least I saw the world, even if I saw it in a very twisted way.
I lifted my head from my palm as we neared the big green sign on the expressway. We were
close to Rugby, Florida. I could tell Aunt Wanda was ready to call it quits for the day. She pulled her purse from the floor like she always did when we were close to stopping.
I shoved my feet into my sandals, ready to leap from the truck.
“Now look, we have fifteen hundred dollars. I’m not sure how long it’s going to stretch, make it last,” she said, elbowing me in the side.
I nodded, watching closely at what exit she was going to pick. Wondering what the new place would be like.
“Do you know anyone here?” I asked. Aunt Wanda knew someone everywhere she went. She knew someone in just about every state that we passed through.
“Of course, what do you take me for?” She shot me an irritated look, shooting across lanes of traffic. She drove single handed, pulling out her cigarettes and lit one up. Her body dropped its usual defensiveness as she let out the first exhale. The smoke drifted passed my nose and out my window.
“Payton is staying at the motel on Lapenzieda,” she said, giving me a knowing glance. I knew she was waiting for my reaction.
I grabbed a hold of my wrist squeezing it tightly to contain my joy. Aunt Wanda never was one for joy. To her I was odd and something to make fun of when I acted anything other than dark or quiet. But I was not that at all. I wanted to talk. I wanted to be heard.
“Yes, Mason is with her,” she said, pulling up to the motel.
I bit my lip in angst. Mason was the only person I had known my entire life. He was from the same town I was from. Two years older than me. I guess the one good thing Wanda ever did was introduce the two of us when were just kids.
Mason was a great guy. His life was similar to mine. His mother, Payton, was just as sleazy and cold as Aunt Wanda. They were great friends because they both were the same. In the old days they paired up and did all kinds of things together. It was only when Payton gave birth to Mason their friendship took a turn. Payton tried to be a good person—or something close. But that ended as soon as Mason’s dad cheated on her. Then she went right back to her old ways.
Mason never had the heart to ditch his mom. She could do no wrong. He looked past everything she did and stuck with her through one crazy situation after another.
Part of me understood why he did. The other part of me never would understand. I never loved anything in my entire life. I would never understand it. I probably would never know when I was in love either.
I gathered my things, jumping out of the truck. Aunt Wanda stretched. I scanned the motel looking at all the shiny gold numbers on the red doors.
Seconds later one came open, and there was Mason coming out to greet us. He crushed me with his towering frame. He made it over six feet by a couple inches. And whenever I was around him I felt like a dwarf. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up into a huge bear hug. I waited until he placed me back on my feet to wrap my arms around him.
“Your skinny still,” I teased. He prided himself in staying healthy.
He poked me in the ribs, ruffled my shirt and tousled my hair. Really laying it on thick before he grew serious.
“How was the drive here with, crazy lady?” he asked, his hand covering his mouth. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling as he laughed. He was a unique guy in every way.
His dad, a Puerto Rican, gave him an olive complexion, but his mother, being she was white gifted him the lightest eyes. They were light green and stood out against his skin tone. He had a head full of thick dark brown hair full of curl. Sometimes I thought he should cut it. But he always countered with, that was the style. It wasn’t long, just shaggy and sometimes it had a life of its own. He would have fit well back in the sixties with his free hair and personality.
“Long and long, what else is there to say?” I said, letting him take my bag.
Aunt Wanda and Mason’s mom caught up at their door. Probably telling each other about the latest crime spree I thought to myself. Mason made it past the two of them going inside the small motel room. He tossed my bag on the floor.
Payton stopped talking. She gave a quick glance in my direction and then at Mason. He dove onto the bed in a really good mood.
“Don’t be getting comfortable. I told you I want to sleep.” She griped. He stopped what he was doing, flashing a big smile at her. She rolled her eyes and went back to talking to Wanda.
“Do you want to get something to eat and catch up?” he asked.
I sat down in the chair, and looked at him, the light stubble on his face, the dark eyebrows, and the crazy hair. I had forgotten how much I missed seeing a familiar face.
“I’m not really in the mood to go out, if you get my drift,” I said low. He nodded, understanding what I was referring to. It was a normal thing for him as well.
“Mason, go get a room so you can get the hell off of my bed,” Payton snapped. She shooed us both out. Aunt Wanda sat her things down. I studied the room realizing they were sharing it. This meant they had something up their sleeves.
“Go get something to eat, and a room. I don’t know how long we will be here.” She sat down with a groan.
I took the money. Mason touched my arm, Wanda and Payton rolled their eyes.
“Mason, will you let her breathe? You act like you’ve never seen her before,” Payton said, lightning up a cigarette. He shook his head, his expression falling.
I followed him outside.
“Does it ever get easier?” I asked him. I didn’t know how he could take the nitpicking all the time.
“Oh, it’s nothing I haven’t heard my entire life. It’s the people who don’t act like that, that scare me.” He laughed.
He opened the door for me, smiling. The woman at the counter glanced up at me and set me into panic. I turned away, pretending I needed a map from the rack.
“I just need a room please, ma’am,” Mason said, slapping down his own money.
“Single bed or double?” she asked.
I twirled the old rack of maps trying to stay calm. Moments like these were hard.
“Double,” he said quickly. He touched my back, letting me know we were fine. I sighed, my stomach filled with knots. It always scared me.
“She is none the wiser. No one is looking for you. Relax.” He took my hand. I nodded, feeling protected once the door was shut and we were in the room.
Mason turned on the TV and sat down on the bed. I took off my shoes and did the same. This was the moment I had been waiting for. The moment I could just lie down and relax.
“I’m glad you guys came,” he said.
“Me too, it’s not that often I get to see you anymore.” I frowned. He took me by the chin, trying to get me to smile. I gave him a look, but it was hardly a smile.
“Come on, I know it’s not that often, but we are here aren’t we? So tell me how everything has been.” He sat down and turned to face me.
“Hard. Things are hard. We were at some drug dealer’s house and Wanda went batty again. I swear I have an ulcer, its nuts.” I rubbed my palm into my forehead, stressed beyond words as I stared up at the ceiling. Mason inched closer and planted a kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment.
“Try to forget about it for right now. Let’s just get some sleep,” he told me. He kissed my cheek again and again. I touched his hair, slipping my fingers through it. He smiled, softly pressing his lips against mine, his hand touching the side of my face.
“Close your eyes. Get some rest. I’m right here, ok?” He searched my eyes. I nodded, letting him kiss me again. This time more intensely. My heart sped up and stayed fast until it ended.
He wrapped his arms around me, his body molding to mine. We both fell asleep.
June 17th
My eyes fluttered below my heavy lids. I could feel the sun pouring through the window. I tried to stay asleep, but it was no use.
“Good morning,” Mason said from his chair by the window. He was showered and dressed. I stuck an arm out from under the comforter giving a good stretch.
Mason smiled. He was wa
iting for me to say I felt better.
“Good morning, Mason,” I said, giving him a small smile. I smoothed my hair, sitting up. Mason jumped up, grabbing a brown bag on the table. He rifled through it, pulling out orange juice and a white Styrofoam container. He handed it over, sitting down beside me on the bed.
“I got you breakfast,” he said. I popped open the lid. There was French toast with fresh strawberries along with scrambled eggs. I smiled bigger this time. He had remembered my favorite foods.
Mason was a good guy. He had a big heart. A kind heart, but like everyone else I had ever met, people surprised you all the time. Mason was involved in a lot of shady things with his mother. She made him into the kind of person she needed. He was a tool and she never really saw him as her son.
“Get dressed and we can go for a walk,” he said, turning on the TV. He sprawled across the bed caught up in what was on the TV. I looked around the room. It surprised me that anyone could be so calm when their life was so awful.
***
Mason looked out the door before we headed out. I held his hand tightly, looking at Payton’s motel door to make sure they were nowhere in sight. We both knew they wouldn’t be happy to know we were walking around. We were supposed to always lay low. Avoid causing a scene and never let anyone grow suspicious. We were supposed to be invisible at all times.
Mason hopped the chain link fence behind the hotel room. It rattled and shook as he scaled it without difficulty. He landed on his feet, pointing up to the top, trying to persuade me to do the same. I studied the six foot metal and shook my head. I knew it was a task I could conquer, but I just didn’t feel like it.
He kneeled, tugging on the fence to free up enough space for me to squeeze through. Thankfully the fencing was cheap enough to manipulate. I hurried through.
