by Holly Hood
I wiped my hands on my jeans. Mason slipped his hand around my waist and we slowly wandered through the field behind the motel. The ground was scattered with bottles, paper, rocks and beer cans—Aunt Wanda always knew how to pick the crappiest neighborhoods.
We met up with an old railroad track that went on for miles. Mason hopped on balancing himself. I followed along, waiting for him to launch some kind of conversation. He usually wasn’t the quiet one.
He held his arms out perfectly straight and long, his feet making substantial ground and not once did he waver. His concentration was impeccable at everything he did.
I picked up a rock and chucked it. This brought him back to reality and he hopped off, snagging my hand in his. “Do you ever think of where you want to live?”
I stared straight ahead at the overpass coming up, my mind envisioning a train zipping through so easily with little effort.
“I liked Massachusetts, it wasn’t so bad. And the way that they talked was wild.” I grinned. Aunt Wanda and I had stayed there for nearly a month. The accents were amazing. They were quick and always so smug. Nothing like me, the southern girl who said stupid phrases all the time out of habit. I couldn’t sound threatening if I tried. Everyone thought I was sweet just because of my voice. I wanted to be tough. Sweet helped me in no way at all.
Mason was from the same place. And he was nowhere as twangy. He said he found a way to lose it. The less he sounded like a southern the better off he was. I imagined I never would. So I just learned to live with it.
“I liked Arkansas, Kansas and Texas. I’m hoping we head to Texas again, but with those women you never know what’s going to happen.” We made it under the overpass.
I leaned against the cool brick enjoying the shelter. Mason stood in front of me. He touched my chin. I knew he wanted to kiss me again. It was something we did out of habit. I wasn’t sure if it was just expected. I wondered if I was just a means of gratifying his sexual needs, or if it meant anything to him at all.
I closed my eyes, his lips against mine made my heart skip a beat. His lips were firm and swift. He lightly trailed his fingertips across the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling away before he got to personal.
We stopped. I stared into his eyes, my forehead pressed against his. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. My heart was spastic. The butterflies in my stomach were very obvious as he skimmed my waist with his fingertips.
“I missed you,” he whispered. I kissed him again, but he pulled away this time. He sat down, pressing his back against the brick. His arms resting on the knee of his jeans, he was nervous about something.
“I know you do.” I sat down beside him. Mason was never down, this wasn’t him.
“Well, shit, Kendall, are you going to say you miss me too? Or don’t you?” he said sharply.
“I miss you, too. You should know that,” I said, feeling bad I would have to confirm that to him. It was something I figured he already knew.
“I always feel like I’m going to die anymore,” he said, letting a laugh slip out to make it seem less harsh. As I looked at him I realized he was scared.
“You shouldn’t think like that, Mason. I don’t think like that. We didn’t create this mess.” I shoved my hair behind my ear. “At the least, we should be able to make it out alive.” Now I was frightened.
Mason stared at the ground. He picked up a stone, rolling it around in his hand.
“Life is not kind. Who are you trying to kid, Kendall?” He sighed.
I shrank back against the wall, knowing he was right. How many people in our situation made it out alive? Not many. And the ones living on the edge all the time were the first to have it all end.
“She did you dirty, you know that right?” he said. “Sure, Joy was messed up, but Wanda ain’t a stitch better. If anything, I think Joy would have done a better job raising you.”
I never liked to talk about the past. How Wanda snatched me like a thief in the night. Probably because I felt I had chosen to go with her.
“I think I’m better off,” I said, looking away.
“I wish I could make you some perfect life somewhere. I mean, if I can fake morals and values, I probably could have them, right?” He laughed.
I laughed too. Fake, it was a great word to describe who we were on a daily basis.
A slow rattling consumed the overpass. We both jumped to our feet knowing the train was coming our way. I started to head out, but Mason grabbed my hand and tugged me back. He pressed me against the wall, parts of him touching me that I would have preferred not at a time like this. He covered my eyes, shushing me.
“We are going to die!” I pushed into him. He put his other hand over my heart as the metal monster got louder and nearer.
“I wouldn’t let that happen. Just live in the moment! Sometimes that’s all you got!”
The wind shook our bodies, tugging my hair in every direction. My skin tingled with adrenaline rushing through my veins. It was a mixture of fear and joy, a moment I could not escape—like every other part of my life. The only difference, this moment would end and it would go away.
Mason kissed me, his tongue deeply involved in the act. He held tight to my neck, neither one of us was able to make much movement with the train rushing past us. His hands slipped down the length of my body and unzipped my shorts.
I opened my eyes, shocked at what he was doing.
“Just go with it,” he said, letting my shorts dropped to my ankles. He gripped my legs, his fingers squeezing into the flesh of my thighs, my back pressed firmly against the wall. I closed my eyes, the sight of the train behind him was about to make me scream. I let Mason do as he wished. I couldn’t lie, I was enjoying every second of it.
I gripped his t-shirt with both hands, my back scraping against the concrete, but I didn’t care. I prayed my legs weren’t torn off by the train in the middle of our stupid choice to have sex.
The train finally ended, freeing us from the pinned position on the wall. Mason quickly pulled his pants up and hopped back on the track. I did the same, watching him, wondering what he was thinking at that moment.
Was it just silly sex with an old friend?
“I guess we should go back,” he said. “Or do you want to make a run for it together and leave them behind?”
He laughed, pushing me jokingly, I nearly fell.
I knew he was only joking. He would never take off.
“You couldn’t do that to your momma and you know it. I know it.” I gave him a look, searching for something that said otherwise.
He only offered me a cagey smirk.
June 18th
I covered my mouth, fighting to hold the laughter in as Mason put on a crazy pair of sunglasses. We were in the middle of the department store trying to fit in, acting like devoted customers while Wanda and Payton did their “thing”.
Mason grabbed another pair off the rack and tossed them at me.
“Put them on. I want to see you in them.” He went to the next rack. I sighed, giving in. I looked in the mirror at myself. The glasses totally crowded my face making me virtually hidden.
“Nah, I don’t like them. I can’t see your eyes.” He took them off of me and returned them to the rack. I gave him a fake pout and he poked me in the side and steered me further down the aisle.
“Can I help you with anything?” A lengthy man asked, he was dressed in normal clothes just like we were. I immediately started to panic.
Mason pulled the glasses off, he looked the man over.
“No, sir, I believe we are shopping just like everyone else in here.” He took my hand. We started past him. Mason squeezed my hand letting me know we were okay like he always did. I was close to throwing up all over the shiny floors. I hated being in public for that very reason.
“Go get them. I’ll be outside trying to lose the undercover security,” he said, flashing me a look of annoyance. I quickly nodded and hurried past the racks of clothing, trying to act as casual as my
nerves would allow.
I headed for the dressing room.
“Aunt Wanda!” I yelled. I crossed my arms, pacing the floor, cautiously watching every person that passed. It was pathetic the amount of fear that could creep up in an instant.
There was never a time you didn’t panic when somebody even glanced in your direction. It told me we looked suspicious and people were judging us—or at least that’s what it felt like. And that was never a good sign.
Aunt Wanda came out. She was wearing a new outfit, her demeanor calm. She avoided my stare and eyed herself in the mirror, turning back and forth.
“Mason thinks we should get going,” I said.
She turned around, placing her hands on her hips. “When I am ready to go I will go.” She shifted her evil glare someplace behind me. I turned around to find the same man standing there that had pestered Mason and I. Every second he stared at the two of us the more I felt we were done for.
Aunt Wanda walked right up to him and looked him over. She was sizing him up like she always did.
“How are you doing?” she asked, standing a little too close for comfort. He was around her age, somewhat balding and weak enough to crack under pressure. But he still was a man doing his job and he could be our downfall.
Mason walked up behind the man, acting like he was looking at clothes. He lifted his head occasionally, listening in on the conversation.
“I’m doing fine, Ma’am. Just making sure there is nothing I can help you with,” he said, growing rigid as Wanda stalked him like a lion.
“Well, I’m sorry, but you look like an ordinary man to me. Or did you lose your name tag?” she asked. She ran a hand through her hair, waiting patiently for an answer. He was starting to sweat bullets. Aunt Wanda was like a wild beast ready to attack. And she knew how to do it subtlety.
“Oh no, Ma’am, I’m with loss prevention,” he stammered, digging in his pocket, he pulled out a badge.
“I would hate to think you’re calling us shoplifters. I would love to think you’re over here because you like what you see,” she said.
I stood there uncomfortable at this point. Clearing my throat, hoping she would shoo me away. The man looked at me, debating on what he should do. Not many people knew what to do when it came to Wanda.
“Isn’t she beautiful? Do you like them younger?” She asked, pointing in my direction. My mouth went dry. I felt ill. There was no way she was going to put this on me.
“Let’s go,” Mason said cutting into my thoughts. He yanked me by the arm past Aunt Wanda, nearly plowing her down as we made our way out of the store. I pulled away, thankful I was out of that store and that situation.
“Now how often does that happen? And don’t lie to me, Kendall.” He pulled me to a bench in the middle of the mall.
“Not often. Calm down, it’s not a big deal,” I said trying to reassure him.
“She has no right to try and turn you into what she is.”
I was sure there was going to be some kind of confrontation when Aunt Wanda got out of there. Even Payton would probably yell at Mason for hindering her plans.
“Just stop it. The more you rile her up the quicker I won’t be around anymore,” I reminded him. It made me sad to think I would have to say goodbye to him all over again. It was hard to know when I would see him again. I lived in the moment.
Mason took my hand bringing it to his chest. He stared at me, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “I know you’re unhappy. I’ve known you a long time, I know when you are. What do you want? Just say the word and I will try to make this better for you.”
“You can’t make this better, Mason. You already know that.” I shook my head in disbelief. I didn’t want to believe in false hope and fantasies.
“You say that every time,” he said. I said it every time because it was the truth.
“Just be happy in the moment, remember?” This was what we told each other many times before, every time we met back up throughout the years.
“I want a lot of moment’s not just short ones. Don’t you want that?” He asked. “We are wasting our lives for two washed up woman going nowhere, Kendall.”
I nodded, keeping my mouth shut as Aunt Wanda approached. Her eyes boring a hole right through me as she quickly stomped towards us. I could tell right away she was pissed. Her eyes were small and squinted. Her purse bounced with every step she took in our direction. Mason threw his arm around my shoulder.
“Get your sorry arm off of her. You are lucky I don’t lay you out right here in front of god and everyone,” she hissed, her fingernail close to poking him in the eye. Mason stayed still, not flinching at Wanda.
“I’m not afraid of you. Kendall is not your whore to hand off to men,” he said, keeping his arm around me.
“And Kendall is not your little girlfriend. I know you like to pretend that she is whenever you see her. Get over it, Mason, because you will never have someone like her,” she said cruelly.
Mason laughed it off. He squeezed my shoulder.
“I know, Wanda, because she is too good for me. She’s too good for any of this.” He got up.
Payton came out of the store carrying a couple bags. Mason started moving to help her.
Wanda grabbed my arm, pushing me to start moving. She was not happy. It was written all over her face.
June 20th
Storms washed everything away, sweeping the dirt and debris off the surface. Taking it all away, making life new again.
I sat on the curb outside the motel room, enjoying the water rushing past my feet, a sort of makeshift river. The tapping sound the rain made on the pavement was perfect.
I dipped my fingers in the puddles, leaning my head back, letting the rain soak my skin, my hair flattened under the pressure of its rhythmic beating.
It was dark. All that existed was me and the crashing of the storm overhead, as the cars raced silently far off in the distance.
Everyone was asleep. I wasn’t, because I couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling. The feeling of doom I felt when something bad was about to happen, which was ironic because bad was always happening.
Sometimes I wondered why it even got me down. I felt like a freak for being troubled by something that should have been normal anymore. I wondered how many girls my age were in my shoes. Because if I knew there was even one maybe I could move past how dirty I felt on the inside.
As the lightning crashed, it lit up everything. A stray cat bolted like a thief in the night. It was perfect for the moment.
Mason came outside, letting out a noisy moan of displeasure.
“You and rain, I knew it the moment the lighting woke me up,” he said, hugging his arms to his stomach as the rain pelted him. He was barefoot, and his t-shirt was already clinging to his skin.
He took a seat next to me, leaning into me for warmth. It was summer, but the rain was dragging the cold air in with it.
“What do you think about tomorrow?” he asked all of a sudden. We both watched two men jogging through the field in a hurry to get out of the rain.
Tomorrow was the day we went out for money. Wanda and Payton had it all figured out. They had sunk their claws into a jewelry store owner. He had the most amazing things on display in his windows. And they knew a fortune when they saw one. They would employ Mason to do the heavy labor.
He had been at the wrong place at the wrong time the day they found him. Wanda used what looks she had left to tease the foreign man into inviting her to his store. Of course a guy like himself wanted to impress a woman with fine jewelry. I fearfully pleaded that he would live when all was said and done.
“I’m worried,” I said with a sigh.
Mason stood, watching the guys get closer. I could sense he wasn’t thrilled to see anyone. It wasn’t that he knew them, it was just very late and not the time for trouble.
I stood up too, finally realizing that I was soaked to the core.
The first man looked at us. The second guy was a little cockier, h
e stopped walking, holding his gaze on us.
I crossed my arms.
Mason moved in front of me raising his hands in their direction, rain hitting his palms. They kept their eyes on him. I grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Is there a problem?” Mason asked.
“Mason, stop,” I said low, my hold on his shirt strong.
“I don’t know,” the first guy said, starting to move forward again. “I’ve had enough beers to make there be one, partner.”
“What are you into?” The skinny one asked, he wiped his forehead, looking at us with a weird look on his face. He disturbed me.
“Excuse me?” Mason said, laughing in amusement.
“You holding, man?” He looked over his shoulder paranoid.
“No. That’s not my thing. Sorry.” Mason waved them away.
The red head was agitated his friend was bold enough to ask about drugs. Sometimes that was all it took to give a person a reason to be stupid.
“What brings you guys here?” he asked.
“Same as anyone else, look, I don’t know what you guys are doing. But go ahead and do it. I’m not feeling too chatty,” Mason said firmly, he turned, giving me a look that told me he wanted me to get back into our room. I quickly headed inside.
“I understand the need to lay low, but damn does it always have to be in these drug riddled rat holes?” he said with a sigh. He made sure the door was locked, his hand grazing the curtain. He hopped in bed turning away from me.
I studied his body as he lay on his side. He didn’t want to talk. He was just as nervous about tomorrow as I was. In the moment he would be smooth and stealthy, but it bothered him, I could feel it.
I pulled my clothes off, running my hand along my arm, the water fell to the floor in tiny drops.
“You’re soaking wet, Mason. You’re getting the bed wet,” I said, toweling my body off. I looked through my bag, pulling out a pair of pink underwear.
“Who cares, we’ll be gone tomorrow,” he said grumpily.
I crawled into bed, forcing him onto his back; his eyes were large as he stared up at my state of undress. He tried his best to act interested. He pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me, running his hands down my back.
