by Adair Rymer
Much to my surprise, they only had a bathtub. No shower. I'd just assumed they were speaking in colloquialism when they said bathe. They were not.
I hadn't taken a bath since I was a child. It just wasn't a thing I did anymore and was never even a consideration when at another person's house. Showers were just more efficient. I'd never gotten into relaxing baths either, it always seemed like too much work or something you did on a romantic evening and I didn't have many of those.
There was no escaping Agatha, even while bathing. She unexpectedly barged in and I gently turned down her offer to wash my back, not that it did any good. “Nonsense,” she exclaimed and did it anyway. I would have been more freaked out at their obscene lack of privacy and personal space if they weren't so genuinely good-natured about everything. Their intent was innocent and clear. They just wanted to help.
She did the same thing with Hendrix when it was his turn! I stole glances at him when she abruptly pushed open the door. The tub was way too small for him. Most of his bent legs stuck out and the water barely covered his stomach. I had to stem a giggle at the image of this tiny old lady pleasantly chatting while scrubbing the back of a giant like Hendrix. He sat quietly, looking utterly miserable.
When Agatha was done, she dutifully left him to finish up then came back into the kitchen to start making us breakfast. “Oh! The trunk on him!” She swung her arm between her legs as she walked past me. “It's a miracle you survived.”
I giggled, covering my face with my hand trying to hide the renewed flushness. It was incredibly hard to be mad at her unfiltered honesty. She had obviously lived far too long to care about upsetting others with her opinions.
If I survived to be her age, I hoped I would have a fraction of her temperament. I liked their dynamic as well. Benny and Agatha existed seamlessly in their own space. Benny kissed Agatha on the cheek as he passed her to switch over our laundry. Without needing to discuss anything, they just knew what they needed to do to further their mutual goals. They lived perfectly symbiotic.
Hendrix came out a short time later. He looked more comfortable dodging bullets than he did with the elderly couple's brand of hospitality. I was able to wear Agatha's bathrobe but they didn't have any clothes large enough for him. Instead, they gave him a sheet to wear like a toga while our clothes were placed in the dryer in the other room. Hendrix looked regal, tattoos and all, like a viking emissary to Rome.
We ate a gigantic breakfast and before long our clothes were ready. We quickly changed, thanked them for the hospitality, and headed out to Benny's truck. On our way out, Agatha gave us both a big hug and wished us well. “You two are a cute couple. You take care.”
When we got to the car, I turned back to wave to Agatha one last time. My eyes went wide when she brazenly swung her arm between her legs again, pointed at Hendrix and gave me a thumbs up. What a dirty old lady! Hendrix caught sight of the spectacle and chuckled. Agatha winked at me and finally waved back as we pulled away. I wasn't sad to leave, but I would definitely miss the plucky woman. I admired her fearlessness.
We didn't have much to offer Benny for the hospitality or the ride so Hendrix told him he could sell or scrap Miles' bike for a few hundred bucks. Benny agreed and reassured us that the whole incident would stay between him and his wife. He wasn't a foolish man. He knew that for whatever reason we didn't want the cops involved. He probably talked it over with his wife and they'd gone with their gut that we needed help and not trouble. They were both just good, salt-of-the-earth people that wanted nothing more than to be as helpful as possible.
We all had to share the one bench seat up front, which was the style for the old pickup trucks. Hendrix put an arm around me and made it too comfortable to stay awake for long. I was running on fumes, still exhausted from the previous day's events. Between that, the sex, and being woken up at the crack of dawn this morning, sleep took me pretty easily.
“Maya. Time to wake up,” Hendrix's voice was so distant at first that when I opened my eyes and saw the airport I thought it was a dream. Then some asshole behind us laid on the horn and I knew it wasn't. Salt Lake City International Airport read a giant mural in the drop-off area. Why were we here?
There were people yelling and crying, taxi drivers arguing and the general hustle and bustle of over encumbered, stressed out travelers, rolling their small worlds behind them. Everything was extremely loud.
I had finally started to become comfortable with the silence of being out of a city. Last night by the side of the road, the hotel in Laramie...before that...it was all very peaceful. Growing up in a city, it was easy to forget about what you didn't have: the rich beauty of silence.
Hendrix had disappeared by the time I'd rubbed the sleep from my eyes and acclimated to the noise. He hadn't gone far though. A loud crunch sound alerted me to his presence behind the truck. He was having a spirited discussion with the guy behind us; the one laying on the horn. Or rather Hendrix was talking and the man behind the steering wheel was listening while in a state of terror.
“Benny, why are we here?”
“You'll have to ask your boyfriend. I just do what I'm told. A skill I picked up from Agatha.” Benny winked at me just like his wife had. Those two were perfect for one another.
Hendrix, my boyfriend? I thought about correcting Benny but I didn't. Part of it was because I'd never see the old man again so why bother. It was a nice feeling knowing that there were at least two people out there somewhere that thought Hendrix and I were a couple. Even if it wasn't true, it brought a slight smile to my heart.
Something metallic dropped from Hendrix's hand and shattered on the ground as he opened the passenger side door to let me out. I saw the car behind us, that was making all the commotion, quickly drive around Benny's truck and speed away. It was now missing its driver's side mirror.
Hendrix shook Benny's hand and I thanked him for all his help. Benny's truck sputtered a few times as it navigated the drop-off platform before it turned out of sight.
“So the airport, huh?” I looked up at the big man. A plane made sense.
“Fastest way to San Fran.” Hendrix looked down at me and smiled weakly. His usual confident, trouble-making smile was replaced with one that was just going through the motions. It put me off right away. Something was wrong and that made me very nervous.
He read the skepticism in my face and smiled deeper, trying to cover up something that weighed heavily on his mind. He held my hand. What could he be thinking, that had him looking so dour?
I looked down at the wad of cash he put in my hand. “What is this?”
“Airport's charge money for their plane tickets.” Even his snark was forced.
The realization that I didn't have my purse flashed across my face. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed that up until now. Everything was so crazy that I hadn't had time to even think about it. I hadn't had it since the warehouse.
“I had Benny stop and withdraw money from one of my accounts on our way here.”
“Are you...” The words were surprisingly difficult to say out loud. An anxious feeling rose in my belly. “Hendrix, are you not coming with me?”
“I'm still on parole. I can't step foot in a place with that many cameras. If I gave them my info to buy a ticket, it would prove that I'm not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
“But...” I couldn't name it but something, confidence, or a sense of direction maybe. Whatever it was, it was slipping through my fingers like sand.
“My usefulness to you is about up, Maya.” Hendrix's faded smile renewed but only in size. It was a mockery of happiness. “One way or another, cops'll be able to place me at one of the crime scenes. If they're not already looking for me, they will be soon. If I stay with you now, I'll only slow you down.”
“Hendrix, no...” I needed to find the words that would make him stay. “Together, I know we can find a way to figure this out!”
“It's alright.” This time his smile was genuine. “You don't need me anymore. We had
some fun though, didn't we?” He kissed my forehead and tears flooded my eyes.
Was this really happening? How could it already be over? I knew it had to end sometime but not already! I wasn't ready... not yet.
“Where are you headed?” My voice was starting to crack.
Hendrix shrugged. He looked off over my shoulder and nodded to some vague direction. “That way, I guess.”
He thumbed away the tears that streamed over my cheeks and put something else in my hand. “This was Robbie's. I think he'd want you to have it.”
It was his pocket watch. I opened it. Inside was an old picture of my mom and Anna.
“Robbie always had that on him. I don't know why he never had it fixed but it looks like he really cared about your mom.”
“I think they were lovers.” The words came out of my mouth but it felt like someone else said them. My heart sank, my stomach contracted tightly, and it felt like the air was crushed out of my lungs. That argument about Robbie between Mom and Dad.... It was a long time ago and I couldn't remember it clearly, but it seemed right. Mom and Robbie were in love. “And Slick found out.”
“Is that why your mom disappeared?”
“That's what I'm hoping to find out when I get that safety deposit box.”
“You best get to it then.” Hendrix lifted my chin, breaking my bleary-eyed gaze at the ancient picture of the two people I loved most in the world. I met his sad eyes only briefly before he kissed me. It was the last, desperate kiss of a goodbye without compromise. Just as we broke away, he leaned in and whispered, “Take care, Maya. I'll miss you.”
Hendrix pulled away, leaving me grasping at air. I didn't want the moment to end. I didn't know how this was supposed to end but I knew it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
I stood on the sidewalk and watched Hendrix slowly vanish. I would never see him again. I was devastated. A hard but wonderful chapter in my life had ended.
I was surrounded by tearful hugging families and friends that were forced apart by their plane tickets and departure times. There were teens flying off to college, relatives returning home after a vacation, bridesmaids flying out after their friend's wedding. All of their parting drama seemed so petty to me. It all seemed so temporary. What could they possible know of the sadness that I felt at that moment?
I walked into the airport in a daze. I was a teary, swollen-faced mess when I got to one of the counters that offered flights to San Francisco. I took some solace in the fact the airline employees must be used to dealing with distraught people. Heartbroken as I was, the last thing I wanted was unnecessary attention.
“Ma'am, are you OK?” The lady behind the counter looked at me with worry and that's when I caught my reflection on the mirror behind her.
Sad people were one thing but I looked like I was hit with a shovel. Two black eyes, swelling and bruising over my entire nose and scratches across my face from Ricky-tick's slap. I was a walking horror show.
I didn't realize I looked that bad. For whatever reason, the elderly couple didn't have a mirror in their bathroom. Their place was so rustic that there weren't many reflective surfaces at all, none that I could've even subtly used as a mirror.
“I need a ticket to San Francisco. The sooner the better.” I sighed and shrugged, removing the wad of cash and my license from my pocket. I had no intention of explaining myself or what happened to anyone, I was simply out of fucks to give.
The lady saw my disposition and decided against any other questions about my well-being. She pursed her lips and looked up the location. “I'm sorry but we don't have any available seats until... Flight four-thirty-nine. And that is tomorrow at...”
Her voice nervously trailed off as she saw the hardening look on my face. It was a look that said tomorrow wouldn't work. She cleared her throat and began again. “Would you like me to check the other airlines? Maybe they have something available that's leaving sooner.”
I stood there for at least a minute letting my mind drift over the events of the past few day. I tried to focus on the task at hand, but my brain and my heart kept landing on Hendrix. I thought about just how much I'd misjudged him initially. How I wouldn't be here without him. I probably wouldn't even be alive right now without him.
Sometime later, when I came back to the present, I saw the lady behind the counter start and stop like she wasn't sure if she should repeat herself or call someone over. Her discomfort almost made me laugh. It wouldn't have been a laugh at her but at the fact that I had become an entirely different person than when I first met the Coffin Eaters.
I used to be overly accommodating and empathetic. The hardness that I wore for work was a facade, an ill-fitting, uncomfortable mask. I was so much tougher now. Tempered in the fire of pain and tragedy. I now found it difficult to care about the discomfort of others. Social niceties were beyond my ability at the moment.
She coughed, finally mustering up the courage to repeat herself. I ignored her again and let my gaze drift. The loss that settled throughout me was so palpable that I felt physically heavier. I was awash in numbness.
The current date and time digitally hung above the various airline kiosks and booths. I still had two days before the cut-off date with the bank. The flight from here to there was only around two hours. That wasn't that long when I thought about it. My brow furrowed, they couldn't have been all that far apart, right? “How long of a drive is it to San Francisco?”
“I'm not—”
I left before she finished and went straight for the rental car kiosk. There was the faintest kindling of hope smoldering inside me and I didn't have time to waste it on people that didn't have answers for me.
“A little over half a day, if you're quick about it,” the car rental guy answered when I asked him the same question.
Embers of that fleeting hope flared to life. My sorrowful haze dissipated like burnt flash paper. I dared to dream the impossible. He told me where they kept the rental cars and called ahead for me. Nonapologetically, I pushed my way through the crowded airport, running my heart out to get that rental car. I prayed that it wasn't too late.
I couldn't fill out the forms and throw money at him fast enough as I rushed the on-site representative through the mandatory paper signings and visual checks on the car. I threw a twenty dollar bill at the man just to get him the hell out of the way. I didn't give a fuck about any of it. I needed to leave immediately. He tossed me the keys and shouted policy reminders at me as I peeled out of the parking lot. God, please let it not be too late!
The roadways in the airport were designed to be a big circle so that if you missed your drop-off or pick-up point you could loop back around. I frantically drove through the entire circuit twice before finally finding what I was looking for.
Hendrix's unmistakably broad figure boarded a bus, a shuttle that would take him somewhere off site. Somewhere out of my life completely. What I did next would have been unthinkable to the me of a week ago. I sped up and passed the shuttle right as it began to leave, then I jacked on the breaks in front of it.
The bus screeched and skidded to a halt. I had no idea if it would be able to stop in time but it did with under a foot to spare. I hadn't been listening to the guy at the rental place but I doubt I'd bought insurance that covered crazy driver. I barely threw it in park before I jumped out of the car. The only thing I cared about was getting to Hendrix.
The doors opened so the driver could scream at me. “Lady, what the fuck! I'm calling the cops!” I ignored him and boarded the bus. Right as I passed him, the driver grabbed my arm and violently jerked me backwards. “Are you out of your fucking mind, bitch? Do you know how much trouble you're in?”
“Not nearly the trouble that you'll be in, if you don't take your greasy hand off of her,” boomed a deep voice in the back of the bus.
Hendrix's hulking form rose to his feet. He towered over the seated passengers like an angry, marble sculpture of a wrathful No
rse God. When the sculpture moved, the passengers quieted and the driver unhanded me.
I ran to Hendrix. He shifted from anger to confusion but caught me as I barreled into him. “Maya...”
The words raced out of my mouth. I couldn't handle hearing him reject me without at least explaining myself first. “There were no flights available so I rented a car. Come with me.” I buried myself in Hendrix. “Please come with me.”
“Just go before I—” The bus driver stammered through the pathetic threat before he was interrupted by my Norse God.
“We'll take as much time as we damn well please,” Hendrix growled at the man with a fierceness that was unquestionable.
The rest of the passengers were getting restless. This wasn't a movie. They didn't rally behind the notion that love conquers all. We were the equivalent of a car accident. A delay that came with a spectacle during the morning commute. Everyone that wasn't frightened was getting impatient and some had already taken to their phones.
Hendrix saw it too, his eyebrows tipped up, in a look of concern as he regarded me. “The cops'll be here soon.” If the police caught Hendrix, they'd quickly discover that he'd broken parole and they'd arrest him.
I cared too much for him to let that happen, especially after all he's done for me. I released him from my hug, feeling the onset of a crushing emotional defeat coming on. I had to leave him again before I was destroyed by it.
I didn't know what I was thinking, trying something like this. Of course it wasn't just because he couldn't get on a plane with me. He'd fulfilled his promise. He got me safely to where I could finish the journey. There was no reason for him to help me further. I felt like such a fool.
“Yeah. OK.” I turned away from him this time. I didn't want him to see how much this hurt me.
“Aw hell, I've been meaning to work on my tan anyways.” His words turned my legs into lead and stopped me dead in my tracks. Could that have possibly meant what I desperately hoped it would mean? Turning, I saw him smile.
