Push & Pull

by Allie York

  Briggs shook his head, sighing like a jackass. “Whatever.”

  “I’m going for a run.” I ignored my pissed, disappointed brother and kissed Ma before I went out the front door, hitting the sidewalks at a light jog. I didn’t make it to the end of the block before I puked, again. My muscles ached before I even made it to the end of the road, but I pushed on. There was a day I ran in marathons, before I got sick of my fucked up life. Anymore, I was lucky to make it a mile before I collapsed.

  When I turned toward Broadway, approaching traffic, I seriously considered running straight into it. Maybe I’d be lucky enough to make contact with a truck and then nothing else would matter. Somehow, the pills and alcohol hadn’t killed me yet, but a truck could take care of all my problems. Instead, I pushed past the pain and turned on to Broadway. Coming out near the top of the hill, I could see my destination at the bottom. The huge church at the bottom was about half a mile away, but towered above all other structures in the valley. It was always the half point of my run.

  Every rumble of a semi from behind me had me fighting the urge to veer, just a little, and end it all. Briggs and Harriet had Ma covered, my car was paid off, the house was paid for. I wouldn’t be leaving anyone with any bills, or responsibility. Dying of an overdose would kill Ma, but a truck hitting me would look like an accident. I didn’t take that step off the sidewalk that I so desperately wanted to make. I pumped my legs harder, making it hurt.

  I made it to Needles before I had to slow. My legs threatened to give out and my chest felt near collapse. Pushing so hard after the night I had wasn’t smart. I had no idea what I’d taken, washing it down with countless beers, and I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was asking for an early death like our father’s, but that’s who I was. Just like our father. At least I had the sense to not put a wife and kids into my fucked-up path. I kept my destruction to myself instead of pawning that kind of rage on innocent people. In that one way, I was better than William Layton. I dropped my hands to my knees right in front of the tattoo parlor and took a deep breath through the burn, trying not to puke again. I had nothing left to throw up, but my stomach lurched anyway. I took several deep breaths through my nose and my stomach settled. The rumble of yet another truck made me want to make a sharp turn into traffic, but a noise to my right had me scanning the tattoo shop. I expected a homeless person going through the trash, but what I saw was much different, and it put all thoughts of running and dying out of my head. I stood up, suddenly feeling sober, and walked toward Needles.

  Chapter Two

  Meredith

  Even in the darkness, I could see the stick in my hand. I choked back the tears. Pregnant. My stomach lurched and I leaned over the toilet again, puking as quietly as possible. Waking Zeke up would make my bad situation worse. Once my stomach was empty, I sat down on the floor of the nasty bathroom and covered my mouth to stop the sob. How the hell had I ended up with this life? No wonder I was peeing a million times a day and had the horrible headaches. I hadn’t kept a meal down in two weeks, maybe more. Even Zeke noticed me getting sick when I had to stop serving dinner to his ‘associate’ to throw up. When I disappeared at the party, Zeke noticed enough to have Kim suck him off. He wasn’t happy about me throwing up. Not at all. He had the nerve to tell me it was what I got for being a whore. I picked the worst possible person to knock me up. How did this happen?

  I slid my phone from my pocket and read the last text from my sister. She sent me a text every week, but I always deleted it and never answered. It made me feel so much better to read her words, but I could never respond and risk a rescue mission. The bruise on my thin wrist caught my eye, and I pulled my sleeve down to cover it. Zeke didn’t like me talking to my ‘worthless family’ so I programmed her number in as Sonya from Biology. I was failing the class, of course, and for the second time. When you aren’t allowed to go to class, you can’t really pass, but it worked as a cover for Cori’s texts. Something about the recent text made me risk not deleting it.

  Sonya from Biology: Another girl. I’m having another girl. It’ll be just like when we were little, three girls. Poor Griffin. I’ve started working at his tattoo shop a few days a week since I can’t lift heavy dogs anymore. Needles is amazing, very hip and stuff. The kind of place you’d like. I love watching him work. I can’t wait for you to meet him and Celia. You’ll love them so much. I miss you Mere. I miss you so much it hurts. No one will even bring up what happened if you come home. I swear, if you just come home, all is forgiven. If you read this, please text to let someone know you are okay. Please. Come home.

  I could hear her voice, the strain to keep tears back as she typed. It had been two years and three months since I left. I screamed at all of them for trying to get me and Zeke to break up. I said the most horrible things. Things so horrible there was no way for them to forgive me, but staring at the pregnancy test meant I had to do something, suck up my pride and get out. Whether Zeke would take the news well or not wasn’t the point. The point was that I couldn’t make a decision about the pregnancy while in his house, under his thumb, under his control. It was time for me to go home, to stop living in the mess Zeke created. I could hear his voice in my ear telling me he didn’t want another fucking mouth to feed, so be sure to take my pill. And I did, religiously. With that scene replaying in my mind, I made my choice, one I should have made a long time ago.

  After the bender he went on the night before at the party, I knew Zeke would sleep for ages. It wasn’t even dawn anyway. I unplugged the phone charger from the wall, picked up my only pair of shoes, and eased down the stairs. My wallet was by the table, so I grabbed it and my car keys. I had a car, but doubted it would make it from Colorado to Tennessee After I slipped my shoes on, I walked right past the car in the driveway and kept going. At the dumpster near the gas station a block away, I tossed the pregnancy test in and threw the car keys in behind it. The sun was just rising, so I had plenty of time to start toward home. Home. I didn’t even know if I still had a home. Cori text me two days before, so maybe she would welcome me back. I didn’t really have a choice. I had no job, no skills, and was flunking out of classes, again. I couldn’t even think about being pregnant. My pride and shame kept me from going back sooner, but it wasn’t about me anymore. I was in no place to care for a child, emotionally or physically, but something about the word ‘pregnant’ made me walk my ass out the door and down the street to the bus station. I didn’t need to look back, I knew what I was leaving behind. A two-story house that I came to with the promise of it being a home, cars and trash littering the yard, and once the sun went down, strange men and prostitutes going in and out. I lived in a drug den, but the further away I got, the lighter I felt.

  I found a Mega-Bus going my way and found a seat in the corner to take inventory of what I had in my wallet while I waited the whole hour for the bus. There was two-hundred in cash, a credit card near its limit, and my ID. I had my phone, paid for by Zeke, and the clothes I was wearing. I wanted to text or call Cori, but what happened if she rejected me? Maybe if she saw me in person, my sister would have to take me back, she’d have to let me stay. My all-time low was about to play the pity card. I knew Arianna would never forgive me, but Cori could. I hope.

  My plan was a bad one to say the least. Step one: Leave abusive baby daddy. Step two: Show up at sister’s work and beg for forgiveness. Step three: Find a doctor and decide what to do about being pregnant. If any of those three things didn’t happen, I was screwed. At least I’d be away from Zeke.

  I waited impatiently for the bus, half expecting Zeke and Travis to show up and drag me back kicking and screaming. Every person who walked past me, made me more paranoid. When the bus showed up, I climbed on and left Boulder, Colorado behind. Hindsight was very clear in that moment. I left things in a terrible state with my family, but I couldn’t change the past, so I could only move forward. Instead of texting Cori, I googled the place she was working. Needles Tattoo Parlor was an impressive place with awards and ton
s of great reviews. I didn’t care about that. I cared about the address and hours of operation. I did some quick math based on the estimated drive time to Tennessee, and figured their ‘limited Sunday hours’ would be perfect for me to show up. After I knew where I was going, I could settle back in my seat and watch the scenery. Hours dragged and my nerves got worse. Every stop we made, and the closer we got to home, the sicker I felt. I made three mad dashes to the bathroom in an hour despite not eating for hours before. Every trip back to my seat terrified me. I kept thinking Zeke would jump out from between the seats and my running would be for nothing. The splitting headache and dizzy spells weren’t doing me any favors either. I staggered back to my seat every time, worried I might collapse. I wasn’t sure how much was fear versus being sick.

  “Honey?” I jumped and yelped when a woman touched my arm and took the empty seat next to me, “I didn’t mean to startle you. Car sick?” She looked nice enough, but instead of answering, I only nodded, “I have some crackers.” She handed me a small pack of oyster crackers and looked down at the bruise on my arm. I quickly covered it with my sleeve, “Well, you have a nice rest of your trip. If you need someone to talk to, I’m just up there.” With that, she walked back down to her seat and sat next to her husband. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. My stomach fell, but I nibbled on the crackers anyway. The couple had to be my parents’ age, and looked so sweet and in love. I thought I had that with Zeke, but I was so wrong. With a baby on the way, I’d never have anything like it. Cori got a second chance at love, but her man had to be one of a kind. Happily ever after doesn’t happen for girls like me. I’d done too many terrible things for a man to love me like that.

  An eternity later, we pulled into the station in Tennessee. I had finally dozed off. A hand on my shoulder woke me up, startling me. The same lady from before was standing over me, and I blinked through the ache behind my eyes. When I stood up, making sure I had my wallet, the woman hugged me. No words, just a big, warm hug. I stiffened instantly, waiting for her next move, but her hand made soothing circles on my back and it all came undone. I let the tears go and hugged her back. I had no idea who she was, but she was giving me the first hug I had received in a really long time.

  When I pulled away, she was crying too, and handed me a folded piece of paper, “If you don’t have anywhere else to go. Please call me, I’ll help you.” I took the paper and watched in shock as her husband took her hand and led her from the bus. I waited until I was the last to get off, watching each person carefully as they left, making sure Zeke hadn’t followed me. Once they were all out of the bus, I stumbled down the steps and looked around my hometown for the first time in two years. I called a taxi and waited in the busy station for my ride to take me back to face my very ugly demons.

  In the back of the yellow car, I watched all the familiar sights take me down Broadway and through downtown. I finally smiled. I made it home and even if my family wasn’t ready to forgive me, I had the number from the kind lady on the bus. Even if my family wouldn’t speak to me, I’d be okay because I wasn’t near Zeke or any of his lifestyle. My optimism would somehow carry me through. I got out of the taxi less than half a block up from Needles and took the paper from my back pocket. When I opened it, several hundred dollar bills were wrapped in the paper with her name and number. Connie Shields. Take care.

  I wiped my eyes and took deep breaths to settle my stomach before walking past three buildings to Needles. The brick building had neon signs and a pirate flag with a giant metal rooster by the front door. Typical tattoo place. I made it up the three stairs to the glass door and tugged the handle. Locked. It didn’t make sense. I looked around for the business hours, then checked my phone. I had two hours to wait for them to open because I forgot all about time zones. Shit. I spun toward the road, angry with myself, and got dizzy. My stomach tightened suddenly, and I barely made it to the rail of the stoop before I threw up. Again. I tripped into the wrought iron bars and heaved again, my vision blurred. Hopefully Cori and her man wouldn’t get mad about the puddle of puke.

  “Hey, you okay?” I heard the voice and turned toward it, but the vision walking toward me didn’t make sense. It was a man. A tall, gorgeous man in gym shorts, with blond hair and worried eyes, “You need some help, Doll?” I shook my head and held my hands out to get him to stop walking toward me, shaking my head made it hurt even more. I didn’t trust any men, and strange men near a tattoo shop on Broadway were even lower on the list. I heaved again, falling into the rail, and a hand steadied me.

  I flinched, bracing for the pain, “Don’t touch me!”

  “Whoa, sorry. I’m not gonna hurt you.” The deep voice had me looking around and I settled on his face. His light brown eyes looked at me like I was causing him pain. At least the guy was handsome and not trying to take advantage of my dizziness. Not yet.

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “Doll, don’t take this wrong, but you don’t look fine. You look sick as hell.” He stepped closer and I gripped the rail harder, “You need me to call someone for you?” I shook my head and felt myself sway, “Look, I’m not the most upstanding guy, but I can’t leave you like this. You mean to be at Needles? Seems like you need a cheeseburger more than a tattoo.” I swallowed, lowering myself to sit on the steps. Mystery man sat next to me, close enough to prop me on his shoulder, “Is your eye bruised?” I touched the yellow bruise on my face and made sure my arms were covered.

  “I’m looking for my sister,” The guy probably thought I was homeless, “She works here. I’m not a vagrant.”

  “Do you want me to wait with you? Or we can go get you something to settle your stomach. The deli down here is good. You could at least get a drink or something.” I shook my head, not willing to go anywhere with a strange man, but the guy wasn’t giving up, “Fine, but I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you here sick.”

  “Really, finish whatever you were doing. I’m fine. I’m not crazy or a robber. I am just sick and two hours too early.” I leaned my head against the cool metal rail and closed my eyes. He moved in closer and I could smell him. Cologne and the hint of sweat, but not in a gross way, in a masculine way.

  “I don’t think you’re a thief or a vagrant. I was just out for a run. It can wait until your sister gets here. I didn’t know Hattie had a sister,” His words made me pry my eyes open. I didn’t realize I closed them, but the pain in my head had gone from aching to searing.

  “Who’s Hattie?”

  “Hattie is the only girl who works here,” I shook my head again, ready to correct him when another dizzy wave fell over me, “Doll, you okay?” The sidewalk in front of us tilted and I took a deep breath.

  “Cori, my sister’s Cori.” I couldn’t hear my own words, and the traffic on Broadway suddenly muted. I tried to fight the hand on my shoulder, but my arms were heavy, sluggish, and my vision flashed. The man talked, but the words slurred and I swayed again before falling into blackness.

  BECK

  “Fuck,” I jerked my phone out, dialing 911 and waiting for an operator to answer. The girl, Cori’s sister, fainted in my lap. Passed out cold. I shook her and talked to her, but nothing. Not even a blink. The operator answered and I told her where I was and what had happened, realizing I didn’t know the girl’s name, age, nothing. Once that was done, I hung up and checked the girl’s pulse again. Everything seemed fine, except the whole unconscious thing. I flipped through my phone frantically, and called Griffin. I didn’t even let him finish his ‘hello’ “What’s Cori’s sister’s name?”

  “Beck?” Griffin either didn’t check the call, or didn’t have my number.

  “Yeah. Now what is her name?” I tried not to sound like a dick, but I wasn’t in the best situation for him to question me.

  “Arianna, why?” He sounded really busy, kids screaming, the dogs barking, Cori talking. I knew Arianna, and this girl wasn’t her. Arianna was a high-class bitch, blonde, and about 10 years older.

  “Not that o
ne. The other one. Is there another one?” I pushed a strand of dyed black hair from her face and checked her pulse again. Sirens were closing in. I could definitely see a resemblance to Cori, but the girl in my lap looked like she had been through some shit. Her cheeks were sunken, dark circles rimmed her eyes, and she was sickly thin. Even with bags under her eyes and bruises, the girl was beautiful. Before she passed out, her olive green eyes had me captivated enough to try to help her. Cori was pretty, so it made sense that her sister was too, but the girl in my lap was on a whole other level.

  “Meredith?” Griffin asked. The phone got quiet on his end, then I heard Cori in the background going crazy at the mention of her sister. The demand for Griff to hand her the phone was loud and clear and I knew I had to get off the phone. Sirens made me look to see the ambulance coming up the hill.

  “Maybe, sure. I found her, I think and the ambulance just pulled up at your shop. Bring your woman and meet me at St. Mary’s,” I hung up, knowing Griff would put Cori on the phone and I would never get off. It rang again immediately, but I silenced it. I had more important things to do. The paramedics rushed at me, asking questions that I couldn’t answer, and put her on a stretcher with an oxygen mask and some monitors. I watched stupidly while they loaded her in the back, jostling her unconscious body on the stretcher. Then I did something really out of character. Stopping to help the girl wasn’t weird enough for me, so I scrambled after the paramedic. I climbed in the ambulance, pushing a paramedic in the process, “Her sister’s on the way, I don’t want to leave her alone.”

  “You just told me you don’t know her,” The guy slipped a blood pressure cuff on her arm, looking like he was ready to kick me out.