The sound of the gunshot made my ears ring and Tank fell over, struggling to breathe before he just couldn’t. His eyes remained open, but he wasn’t there anymore.
“Peanut,” I heard Daddy whisper, and my dream morphed to the present. “It was just a bad dream.”
I rolled over, blinking back the exhaustion that had taken over me. My heart was heavy. Daddy brushed my hair back from my face. “It’s okay. No one can take me away from you now. Not the law, or your Momma, or anyone else. I’m right here, Peanut.” He poked his finger against the center of my chest before bending down and pressing his lips against my forehead. I let my eyes close again, the weight that had been suffocating me had evaporated as I fell back into a dreamless sleep.
“We come from two very different places.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that, but last I checked we were neighbors.”
“In two very different worlds.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hand went to the knob on the radio, and he turned up the volume to end our conversation.
With an aggravated groan, I reached forward and turned it all of the way down.
“Do you have something against good music?”
“I’d much rather talk, and I would hardly call that music.” Smoothing out my dress over my knees, I waited for him to continue our conversation.
“Taylor had a big heart.”
“I’m sure she was amazing. Had to be a saint to put up with you,” I teased.
“No,” he shook his head. “I mean, yes she was amazing.” He cleared his throat as his fingers drummed nervously against the steering wheel. “She had cardiomegaly... an enlarged heart. It was caused by an abnormal rhythm. And too many other things to list.”
“God –”
“God didn’t deem Taylor worthy of his divine intervention,” he said with a sneer. “Why does it even matter how she died?”
“It doesn’t matter how she died. It matters how she lived.” It sounded cheesy when I said it out loud, but Ford didn’t tease me.
He rolled his neck from side to side as the fingers of his right hand, drummed nervously against his thigh before he placed it back on the steering wheel.
“She lived every day like it was her last because she never knew if it was.” His voice was quieter now, softer as he thought of a happy memory. The hard exterior he hid behind began to crumble, allowing me a glimpse of the person he used to be before the childhood notion that everything would work out for the best had been shattered.
“I envy her.”
“Don’t say that,” he snapped, the car swerving slightly to the right as he looked in my direction.
“What does it feel like?”
“How should I know?”
“She wasn’t the only one preparing for the end. You went through it all too.”
“Like... it was like pure honesty. Everything you feel is so much more intense. There are no games when someone you love is dying because... no one wins in the end.”
“But don’t you regret not having that carefree kind of fun teenage love?”
“This isn’t an after-school special, and I don’t regret a single moment I spent with her.” His eyes narrowed, but his tone was still softer. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Why do you keep saying that? Why wouldn’t I understand?”
“This is probably the first time you’ve even left your house,” he laughed, and I folded my arms over my chest, hating that he was taking to insults again to keep from letting me in.
“Just because I haven’t gone through something doesn’t mean I can’t understand it. I’m not a little kid.”
“Emery, don’t take this the wrong way but you really are a little kid. You have no idea what the real world is like.”
“Will you just shut up,” I screamed. His eyes widened, and I immediately regretted ever getting in the car with him. My past was bubbling to the surface, and I could feel it about to spill over. I gripped my leg, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “I just...” I closed my eyes, taking several ragged breathes before continuing, “Show me.”
His eyes met mine as he thought over my words. His tongue ran out over his lips, causing them to glisten in the dull light fading in from outside. “Your parents would kill me.”
“You aren’t scared of them,” I laughed, trying to hide my own fear. “You wouldn’t have lied about where we are going if you were.”
“That’s different.”
“Why? Because you know you’ll have to face tomorrow? Face the consequences? You are a lot of things, but I didn’t think you’d turn out to be a coward.”
His eyes went to his rearview mirror before they went back to the road ahead. I could see the hint of a smile on his lips.
“You’re just messing with me.” He dismissed our conversation, but there was a new lightness in the air, an excitement that was palpable.
“I guess you’ll never know, Ford Becket.”
We didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. It felt good to know I was the reason he was smiling and I was dying to know if there was a dimple on his other cheek to match the one I could see. This night couldn’t end until I had crossed that challenge off my bucket list.
My elation quickly faded when we pulled off the main highway down a dirt road that led to the killing field. It was where this town buried its secrets. Seven bodies have been unearthed there in the past thirteen years. Four of those were in the last few months alone. If you ask me, this whole town is a killing field, riddled with corrupted innocence and decaying youth.
There was an old farmhouse at the end of the lane that was lit up but no other buildings in sight. It sat surrounded by cattail bushes, guarding the woods that opened to marshy swampland. My stomach began to churn as I went over every excuse I could think of to get Ford to turn the car back around and take me home. He promised he would, and all I would have to do is say the words, but I remained silent, determined to prove that I could hang out with him and not run home crying. Even when the engine cut off and the only sound I could hear was my own neurotic conscience screaming at me that this was a bad idea, I forced a smile.
He shook his head before opening the ashtray that held a little metal device that looked like it had been fashioned out of old nuts and bolts. “I think we’re going to need this.”
“What’s that?” I asked, sitting up straighter in my seat.
He pulled it out, digging a lighter from his jean pockets. “This,” He held the flame to the small metal bowl and inhaled deeply before the smell of skunk filled the car. He didn’t exhale as he spoke, causing his voice to come out choked. “This will give you the courage to go in there,” both our eyes went to the home ahead as he breathed out a thick cloud of smoke.
I chewed my lip before taking the little pipe-like device from his hands.
“What do I do?” I was no stranger to chemically altering my brain, and if this was something Ford thought would help me, I was willing to try almost anything.
“Here,” he pushed it closer to my mouth. “Put your lips here.” I did. “Now, I’m going to light it, and you just inhale. Once your lungs are full, hold your breath for a minute. That’s it.”
I nodded as the fire illuminated my face, sucking in deeply. Too deeply. I pulled back, coughing wildly, my chest feeling tight as I struggled to catch my breath again.
Ford laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, the coughing will just intensify your high.” He took another deep hit from the pipe before blowing it out toward my face. My eyes watered, heart raced.
“Should I try again?” I asked, already feeling like my body was lighter, my head swimming.
“Nah. I think you will have a good enough buzz.” He put the pipe back in the ashtray and slammed it shut before his tongue ran lazily over his lower lip. “You ready?” Ford reached over and clicked my seatbelt, unlatching it.
My body stiffened. My mouth had dried out, my tongue thick and heavy. “For what?”
His eyes fel
l to my mouth, before flicking back to my gaze. “To go inside, Emery.”
I nodded even though it was nearly pitch-black in the car and I knew he couldn’t see me. “I wasn’t invited.”
He had laughed before his heavy palm fell over the back of my hand, causing me to jump at the sudden contact but I didn’t pull away. There was a roughness to his fingers like he worked hard all his life. His touch wasn’t delicate as if I'd crumble beneath it. “I invited you. Besides, I thought you wanted to live a little. This is your chance.” With that, he pushed open his door, causing the interior light to turn on and nothing but a lingering tingle from where his flesh had touched mine. I squinted my eyes at the harsh assault of light before opening my own door and placing one foot on the gravel outside. I pulled myself out of the car and steadied myself as my eyes danced over the house. There was a thumping in the night air from the music blaring inside that rivaled the drumming of my heart against my chest.
Ford joined me on my side of the car and put a cigarette between his lips before lighting it and taking a long drag.
“You’re a smoker?”
“We all have to die of something, don’t we?”
I shrugged as a cloud of smoke left his lips. “Momma says boys who smoke have dirty minds on account of the chemicals pollutin’ their brain.”
His gaze dropped, skating down my body before his eyes met mine again. “You’re momma’s probably right.” He winked, and my knees turned to Jell-O. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
I swallowed hard, but it didn’t alleviate the tightening in my throat.
“So, what is it? What’s your poison?”
“What do you mean?” I took a few hesitant steps to stand in front of him.
“You want to live like you’re dying. Let’s hear it. What will finally do you in? Car accident? Shootout at high noon?” He laughed as he thought of more tacky movie plots to list off. We began to slowly walk toward the front door of the building, and I felt like I may pass out from nerves alone.
“I dunno. I never really thought about it.” That was a lie. “I guess I hope to die old and in bed next to my husband.” Another lie.
“Well, I know I’m going to die from boredom. Thanks for that,” He laughed to himself as he took another drag from his cigarette, causing the end to glow red and light his face. “You can’t live like you’re dying if you don’t plan to do it for another eighty years. Come on. This was your idea.”
“Fine. Let me think about it,” I huffed as we walked toward the large wrap-around porch, stopping just before we ascended the stairs. “How are you going to die?”
“Easy. Broken heart.”
“That’s not a real thing.”
“Oh, yes, it is. It’s a preexisting condition.” He placed his hand on his chest, and for a second, I could see the honesty in his eyes, but in a flash, it had disappeared like heat lightning. I knew I’d have to play along to catch another glimpse.
“Hmm...” I eyed him as he flicked the ashes from his cigarette to the steps below. “Is there a cure?”
His red-rimmed eyes trailed down my body, and I felt myself stiffen under his scrutiny. Was he checking me out? “I guess we’ll see.” He held out his hand, and I looked down at it before searching his eyes.
“You can’t pretend to be my date to this thing if you’re scared to touch me.”
“I’m not scared,” I snapped, placing my hand in his and tried to keep it from shaking.
It was the truth I wasn’t scared of him, I was nervous.
We trudged up the steps and stopped just as the front screen door pushed open. A teenager I didn’t recognize bent over and heaved his stomach contents a few inches from our feet. I jumped, screaming in disgust as my back collided with something hard, and I nearly fell over when I realized it was Ford’s chest. His hands circled around my waist, preventing me from leaping right back to where I was and into the vomit.
“Calm down,” he whispered, sending a chill snaking down my spine. I’d never liked anything about smokers, but the thick smell mixed with his minty cologne made me light-headed. With what seemed like no effort at all, he lifted me from the ground and placed me down on the inside of the doorway. My body swayed as he let me go, and I felt like I’d already drunk a case of beer. Not that I knew what it felt like to be drunk because the most alcohol I’d ever had was a glass of champagne at my cousin’s wedding.
“I’m starting to feel like this was a bad idea,” I groaned as Ford dropped his cigarette butt into a nearly empty beer bottle that had been discarded nearby. His palm slid against mine, and he held my hand tightly as he pulled me into the living room that was full of teenagers.
“You think it feels like a bad idea now, just wait. It’s still early, and these parties never end well.”
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” I called out over the music that sounded like a bunch of cats trapped in a glass cupboard.
His hand left mine as he pulled open the fridge and grabbed two bottles, popping off the tops and holding one out to me.
“I’m not supposed to take drinks from strangers.” I wrapped my hand around the long neck of the bottle that was already covered in condensation from the thick night air.
“Stranger? That hurts. We’ve known each other for like an hour unless you want to count the weeks of you spying on me out of your bedroom window.”
“I don’t... I wasn’t...”
“Emery, it’s fine. If I were a chick, I wouldn’t be able to help myself either. I’m a catch.” His eyebrow rose as he tilted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink.
“Oh, please.” I lifted my own bottle to my lips and drank feeling like I was suddenly parched. I could feel him eyeing me approvingly as I struggled to blend in with the others.
“Have you figured out your death yet?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to die of embarrassment.”
9
FORD
I swallowed the contents of my bottle as I watched Emery struggled to choke down a sip. I knew this wasn’t her scene, but I was thankful she was at least trying. She was a complete mystery to me, and her naivety intrigued me. Guilt panged in my gut when I thought about how I’d used her just to get out for the night. I’d have to make it up to her and hopefully, make sure she enjoyed herself.
I knew my frustration with her was nothing more than jealousy. She had it easy, or at least, it looked that way from the outside. Part of me wished I had been raised inside of a protective bubble like her, but I knew being oblivious to the pains of the world didn’t make them disappear.
I wanted to get back that feeling of being alive, even if only for one night. Maybe I would change the way Emery sees the world, or perhaps she would change my perception. Either way, something had to give.
“Wanna dance?” I asked, my eyebrow cocked.
“No, I mean... like... together?”
“If you’d rather dance alone while I watch, we could do that too,” I teased, and her cheeks immediately darkened.
I smirked as I circled her, my chest against her back. “You wanted to live a little, right?” Her body stiffened at the contact, and I inhaled deeply, finally allowing myself to get lost in the scent that dragged me into my past. My fingers gripped her hip, and I began to move. I closed my eyes as her body mimicked my movements, pressing herself back against me as if I was keeping her from crumbling from humiliation.
“Like that?” She asked, unsure of herself.
“Just like that,” I whispered against her ear. She began to relax against me. My fingers went from her hip to her stomach, splaying across the soft material and holding her closer.
I could feel every ragged breath she was taking, and it caused my own breathing to deepen.
“Not so bad, right?” I asked, smiling into her hair.
“No,” she sighed, “Am I doin’ this right?”
“Perfect. What would your momma say if she saw you now,” I whispered, teasing her. My fingers moved across her
waist, dipping lower. I’m sure if anyone cared enough to watch we were bordering on obscene.
I turned her in my arms to face me. Her free hand was on my chest, and I wondered if she could feel my heart hammering below the surface.
“She’d never let me out of the house again,” she confessed.
“Well, then we better make it count,” I replied, locked on her glassy eyes.
Her tongue ran out over her lips, her gaze dipping fractionally before she pulled back from me, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I think maybe I’m dizzy,” she muttered as she turned to look back out over the party.
“I’m sorry. You were making it hard to remember that we are in public. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m just overheated is all.” She took a long pull from her bottle, and I did the same.
My eyes traveled over the sea of bodies and landed on Shy. Her face lit up when our eyes met, and I took note that her meathead of a boyfriend was nowhere in sight. I’d been so wrapped up in the walking game of twenty questions that was Emery, that I’d completely forgotten she’d be here.
“You know Shy from that shitty diner down the road?” I asked and Emery’s brow furrowed.
“Shy? Yeah, of course, I know her. How do you –” Her words were cut off as Shy stepped between us.
“I didn’t think you’d come, Yankee,” she whispered as she pressed her palm against my chest, her tongue running out over her upper lip. It was forward, even for her. She was marking her territory like a feral barn cat. The smell of cinnamon wafting off her let me know it was because she’d had more than a few shots. It smelled like she’d practically bathed in it.
Something in the Water Page 8
