by Holly Hood
“Kendall, I tell you all the time I care about you. You’re more important to me than anyone else. What happened the other night with Renee would never compare to you. And I was stupid to even do it, high or not. And that’s the god’s honest truth.”
I swallowed. It was hard to take any of it seriously. I was sitting in a public place talking about feelings. Feelings between myself and an old friend—my best friend, I had never even known I had feelings for him. Feelings like these made me feel foolish. Mason was all I wanted. I knew I wanted him to pick me. I knew I wanted him to be a part of me, more then I knew how. The problem was, I didn’t know what any of it meant or what I was supposed to do with the feelings.
“And you don’t even need to say anything. I’m screwed up. I don’t know how any of this works any more than you do. But I do believe you’re worth every second it would take to figure it out,” Mason said, a smile taking over his features.
Renee returned with our food, the tray resting against her hip.
“French fries, two cokes, Mason did you figure out what you wanted to eat yet?” she asked, eyeing us. I pulled my hand free from his.
“Cheeseburger and fries,” he said looking at Renee. He leaned back in the booth. I studied him closely. There was one thing I knew about Mason for certain. He was as honest as they came. He didn’t care if it hurt to hear what he had to say, he was still going to say it. I never felt he lied to me ever. I was sure he didn’t.
“So, hey,” Renee said, turning back around to face us. “What are you two doing later? There is a lot more fun to be had before you leave beautiful Virginia.”
Mason looked at me for a signal I was for it. I wondered why she was so quick to forgive him for almost tossing Shifty over her balcony. But then I realized we all were messed up. She might have seen worse on a regular basis.
“I don’t know. I’m not feeling that good,” I said. It was the truth. I felt like I was hit by death himself and drug a mile.
“What about you, Mason?” she asked.
“If Kendall is feeling better in a few hours and wants to come we will give you a call or something,” he said, shooting me a look. Renee nodded and hurried off. Mason grinned, stealing one of my fries.
“I wonder how much longer we will be here. Every day we sit puts me closer to my grave,” he laughed. I wasn’t laughing; it was morbid and not funny at all.
“Keep your mouth shut if you have nothing good to say, Mason.” I warned him, sinking lower in my seat.
“It’s funny. We are sitting ducks. Sometimes I wonder if we will even make it out alive. You can’t say you haven’t thought the same thing. I know I would fight tooth and nail before I sat the rest of my life in a cell. They might as well kill me. Jail is no life at all,” he said.
He hadn’t got the hint that I didn’t want to talk about this. It was misery; it made me feel even worse. It pulled the dark clouds overhead and swallowed any chance of happiness up.
I covered my mouth afraid I was going to be sick and ran for the bathroom nearly knocking down the elderly couple in line to pay for their meal.
I pushed open the first stall door and dropped to my knees losing the contents of my stomach which wasn’t much. I groaned, wishing the ceiling would just collapse on my head in that instant.
“Are you okay in here?” Renee’s perky voice called out from the other side of the stall. I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth.
“Yeah, I’m alright. Just an upset stomach,” I said, coming out of the stall.
“So what’s the deal with Mason and you if you don’t mind me prying?” she asked. Her smile faded a bit as we stood there staring in the mirror.
“I’ve known Mason for too many years to count. He’s always been a part of my life,” I said short and to the point.
“He loves you. It’s written all over him,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “And you’re lucky, he’s a cute guy. His eyes are amazing, amongst other things,” she said giggling at the last part.
I nodded, understanding all too well what she was referring to.
“Love is a strange thing though,” I said.
We made our way back out to the diner. Mason watched me climb back into the booth. I wondered if Renee could be right. Maybe Mason did love me.
We ate our food quickly. Mason convinced me to go for a walk to steer clear of Payton. We walked back the way we came trying to figure out just where to go.
“How about we walk by the water?” he asked, taking my hand in his as we slowly made our way.
“That sounds fine,” I said, trying to act unnerved by his harmless touch. These feelings were making it harder to just act like myself around him.
“I’m sorry I upset you. I never know when to shut my mouth,” he said.
“I’m sorry for puking my guts out. It all gets to be too much after a while,” I said, he squeezed my hand tighter. We came to a stop at the water. Both of us watched the waves crash below us, it sounded so peaceful.
“What do you think Payton is thinking right now?” I asked. The boat in the distance looked so small.
“I have no idea, it’s not the first time she tried busting me in the face.”
“It’s the first time you reacted though,” I reminded him.
The wind grew stronger whipping my hair away from my face. It fell lazily back in place as soon as the wind died back down.
“My dad is the one button you can’t push. She could have said anything else to me, but not that, I’m nothing like that man. I don’t want to ever be like him. He’s the reason my mom is as messed up as she is.” I could tell the angst had returned at the mention of his dad.
“You’re nothing like him,” I said. “You’re sort of amazing.”
Mason laughed. He pushed me playfully. I rolled my eyes at his reaction to my compliment. Once again he was being his usual self.
“Why don’t we just say it already?” He smirked. “I mean come on now.”
I eyed him carefully not knowing where to step. “What is it you think we want to say?”
“That we love each other. I kick myself every time I stopped myself from saying it. And I know you love me and that’s all that matters,” he said, pulling me close instead of away this time. We stared at the water in a shared silence.
My mind wished I could say the same thing, but knowing if I wanted to was the problem. Did I even know how?
Mason dug around in his pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper.
“I was going to say screw it, but maybe it’s something we could benefit from,” he said waving the address Payton had given him in front of my face.
I took the paper from him, reading Payton’s elegant writing. I wondered just where 77 Elm Rue was located. I had seen enough of Payton’s friends to know it probably wasn’t anyplace nice.
“I don’t know. The whole thing is really weird to me.” I handed the paper back. Mason shrugged my intuition off and tugged me back down the street. He whistled loudly, waving his hand, a cab came to a quick stop. He sure was impressive when he wanted to be.
We climbed into the yellow cab. The gray haired man looked us over as we settled into the backseat.
“Where we heading?” he asked, there wasn’t a single ounce of cheer in his voice. He threw his arm across the seat, his gray hair glistened in the sunlight. His arms were flabby and full of hair.
“This address right here,” Mason said, handing over the paper.
“Humph.” The man grunted. I looked at Mason to see if he too picked up on the strange noise that escaped the man’s lips. But he just stared out the window. He was on a mission and nothing was going to stop him. I couldn’t understand what the point of it was. Taking anything from Payton was just stupid. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to find out. She was friends with whoever was waiting at the address on the paper.
We drove for twenty minutes, weaving in and out of neighborhoods to get to our destination. Our destination ended up being nothing more th
an a long stretch of road with only a few houses dotted along the sides and one large gray factory that sat nestled beside an old junk yard.
I stared at the old rickety fence as we came to a stop. The man looked back at us not willing to let us leave until we paid him. I nudged Mason back to life. He was busy looking out his window taking everything in.
“Here, keep the change,” he said handing over the money. “Which one is it?”
The old man cleared his throat. He rubbed a hand across his gray stubble and pointed toward the junk yard.
“Have a nice day,” he said, driving off. The tone of his voice told me he didn’t mean it at all. My heart sped up at the realization we were alone now on this barren street.
“It will be fine,” Mason said taking my hand. He sensed my apprehension. “I’m sure we can walk a ways up the road and find someone to take us back.”
I nodded as we headed across the street. As we got closer to the fence that surrounded the entire junkyard I felt like a tiny bug below the towering gate. A big red sign hung above our heads swaying back and forth silently against the breeze.
“Gary Stingy junk and parts,” I read aloud. “That name sound familiar to you?”
Mason looked up, and shook his head. Great.
Mason rattled the fence sending several snarling dogs barking. He looked back and forth for any signs of human life. It seemed abandoned. I looked around at the dirt and grime. The little pebbles, all the tire tracks, my eyes finally settled on an intercom. I pressed it and a buzz swirled through the air.
Mason Stepped back releasing his hold on the fence.
The intercom crack and hissed as if it was on its last leg.
“Can I help you?” someone asked. I couldn’t gauge the age of the voice at all. I crossed my arms and let Mason do the talking.
“I’m here for Payton,” Mason said short and to the point. He tapped the fence. It was obvious he was as antsy as I was.
“I’ll be right there,” the voice said, leaving us in silence.
Mason ran a hand through his hair. He paced back and forth and finally came to a stop when we both caught sight of the man coming toward us. He was massive, covered in blue jean overalls. His hair fluttered against the wind. And the black rubber gloves that ran all the way to his elbows shook with each step. He looked like the killer in those horror movies I used to watch.
As I looked around I realized the whole setting could have been from one of those horror movies.
“I hope you’re lucky today,” I mumbled.
“You say Payton?” The man asked standing before us now. He towered over us both. He rubbed at his face, streaks of dirt and lord knows what else etched his features. His other hand was holding a blow torch. I prayed it was used for an honest living and not torturing people like us.
“Yeah, I said Payton,” Mason said, giving a quick nod. The man brought his hand above his head and undid the fence. It rattled and clanged before screeching open.
“I thought she had second thoughts,” he said to no one in particular. He slammed the gate shut, the dogs barked even more angrily as if he agitated them even further. Cars were stacked on top of each other in glorious heaps.
“Who are you exactly?” he asked, staring down at the two of us. We were heading toward a beat up trailer. It’s siding in extremely bad condition from the looks of it.
“I’m Payton’s son, Mason,” Mason said extending his hand toward the grizzly man. He removed a glove and shoved his caked fingernails in Mason’s direction accepting his handshake.
“That’s right.” He shook his head as if he understood now. He opened up the trailer door letting us in first. I held tight to Mason’s shirt as we went inside. My breath caught in my chest at the stale smell of dust and cigarettes.
“Have a seat,” he said, going behind an old brown desk stacked to the ceiling with papers.
I looked around at the makeshift office, staying at the very edge of my seat. I wasn’t about to get comfortable. Its cracked plastic stabbed into my thigh. I intertwined my fingers, trying to keep it together.
Mason sat down next to me, his chair falling sideways—it was missing a leg. I imagined him falling over and it made me want to laugh in spite all of my nerves swarming my body.
“Well, give me a couple minutes to get things together. Like I said, I didn’t think she was having you come.” He stood up and left the trailer, his feet pounding the floor with hard thuds.
I looked at Mason the minute we were alone. I hoped he wasn’t as stupid as he was acting right now.
“This does not feel right, Mason,” I blurted. Mason looked at me, his expression not changing. He was trying to make sense of it, of everything that was happening. I had already and I knew this wasn’t good.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, but something is not right. We shouldn’t be here.” I stopped trying to convince Mason as soon as the door opened. The man came back in lugging a big black duffle bag. Another man followed in behind him.
He stood in the doorway, his muscular frame evident in the sunlight from the windows. He was tall and tan. The complete opposite of the grizzly man with the mysterious duffle bag, the man in the doorway was clean and handsome. I looked over at him, a small smile flashed across his face as we locked eyes. I didn’t smile back, anyone blocking a door wasn’t friendly. They were there for just that—blocking a door.
“Well come take a look. Your mom asked for my best,” he said waving Mason over. Mason grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me up with him. I looked at the scary man, his expression stayed the same. We both peered into the bag at the same time. There sat a large variety of hands guns and shotguns. I wasn’t feeling any better.
“Guns,” Mason said.
“That’s my specialty,” he said rifling through the bad. He pulled out a long black case, brandishing a large knife. I swore it could have killed a bear with one swipe. “And knives.”
I shuddered.
“I don’t know what she is looking for. And I don’t have any money.” Mason backed up. I looked around the room knowing the only way we were leaving was if we could get by the handsome man at the door.
“That makes sense seeing your mom told us to forget it,” The man at the door said. We turned to face him now. He stepped forward, eyeing the two of us.
“Yeah, she told us you were a piece of work. Mom knows best right? She assumed you would still show up though.” The grizzly man said.
Mason sighed. I held it together surveying the room for anything that could help me if things turned ugly.
“We can leave,” Mason said, he took my hand. “Come on, Kendall.”
I stayed where I was. Knowing that was a stupid assumption to make. We weren’t going anywhere.
“No, I don’t think so, Mason.” The handsome one said. He touched my hair letting it slip through his fingers. He was amused by everything that was happening.
“Look, Kendall has nothing to do with my mom and I,” Mason said. Judging by the look on their faces neither one of them cared.
“Your mom seems to think you need to be taught a lesson. And that’s another one of my specialties,” the grizzly man said, he came around the desk.
I couldn’t contain the fear anymore. As he came around the desk holding that knife I screamed. Payton was insane and I knew we were doomed. You didn’t want to be on Payton’s bad side. I had known for weeks that Mason stepped on to many of her toes. And now everything I thought was coming true. Payton wanted to hurt Mason for going against her.
“Don’t worry none of these are loaded,” the grizzly man said.
“These two are though,” the other guy said, lifting his shirt. Two guns were nestled in the waist of his pants.
“Come on, Sweetie.” The handsome one said, grabbing me by the elbow. Mason jumped in front of me trying to stop him from taking me out of the trailer. He pushed Mason back and lifted his shirt again to remind him who he was messing with. Mason didn’t
back off.
“Mason, please stop,” I said. He was broken and filled with regret that he had forced me to come. I felt bad for him.
“I’m sorry, Kendall,” he said. I followed the man out of the trailer only looking at Mason once as I left.
“You can call me Mark,” he said, going down the rickety stairs with me in tow. He held tight to my arm.
“Kendall,” I said. I kept my eyes glued to the ground. I could hear the man in the trailer, his voice louder than before, I wondered what he was going to do with him. Were they going to kill him? Were they that crazy?
I started to cry at the thought of it. A slow crawl of tears slid down my face. This wasn’t abnormal for either of us. It was just a surprise this time. Maybe I could have seen this coming eventually, but I never wanted to face it—not now.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. As if I was supposed to be happy.
“Mason, doesn’t deserve this, sir.” I wouldn’t look at him.
“Whoa now, don’t call me sir. That means you think I’m old. I’m thirty seven, not fifty.” He unlocked a door to a small garage. Inside were several cars and a bunch of boxes. Tools lined the peg board on the walls. It was a brilliant choice, I knew many ways to defend myself and the garage supplied many tools to do so if I had to.
“Sam is a big teddy bear. He’s doing a favor for an old pal. You know it’s not often the women line up for him,” he said, a big grin on his face as he stared at me. He shut the door and leaned against it.
“Mason doesn’t deserve this,” I said again. I wondered if I was just supposed to wait while Mason was killed or beaten half to death.
“Some might say that’s an opinion. Others don’t agree with you.” He crossed his arms. “You guys run around with that crazy broad?”
I nodded.
“She’s a looker, but she’s nuts.”
I wondered how Payton knew these people.
“Are you going to kill us?” I asked finally. I watched him closely. His arm stayed crossed, his posture relaxed.
