by J. Thorn
“Hi, hon. Let me get y’all a menu.”
“No need,” said Kelly. She gave Hazel a patronizing smile. “Coffee and a cheese omelet, wheat toast, hash browns.”
Hazel scribbled on the pad swallowed by her palm. “And for you?”
“He’ll have the same,” Kelly replied before Robert could.
He shrugged at Hazel and put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder that made her shiver. “Sounds good to me.”
Hazel rolled her eyes and walked toward the kitchen window, where she shoved the ticket into the stainless steel wheel.
“Order up!” she screamed at the dark-skinned man with a hair net and teardrop tattoo beneath one eye.
“I used to come here—”
“Robert.”
He stopped, surprised by Kelly’s forceful interruption. “What, Kelly?”
“I need you to stop with the bullshit so we can talk.”
Several old men pretending to sip coffee looked up at the unlikely couple sitting at the counter.
“Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She sighed, finding his “sensitive” routine only slightly less annoying than Hazel’s gum cracking.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Breakfast?”
“For fuck’s sake, Robert. Listen to me!” Kelly slammed her coffee mug down on the stained Formica, drawing even more stares from the patrons stuck in plastic booths. Robert closed his eyes, his fingers curled around the white porcelain in his hand.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Kelly said again, this time in a whisper shared between just the two of them.
“I’ll call my contacts in Florida and—”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
He stared at her with his mouth open, feigning surprise at her comment.
“You’re married. You’re almost twice my age. We’re coworkers. Any one of those would be reason enough.”
“Don’t you like me?”
“Of course I like you, Robert.” Kelly paused as Hazel returned with four plates balanced up her left arm. She placed the saucers of toast down first, followed by a platter of buttery eggs and steaming hash browns. For a moment, Kelly let the aroma change her mind about the diner and her companion. She closed her eyes and inhaled the glorious aroma of her breakfast.
“Anything else? Need that coffee freshened up, hon?”
“We’re good for now, thank you,” replied Robert. He held his fork and knife in each hand as Hazel sauntered back toward the cash register to count out the pennies an old man had used to pay for his three-dollar meal.
“I like you, Robert. We’ve had some fun.” Kelly swallowed hard as the words came out, choking on their insincerity. “But we have to stop. It’s not healthy, and it’s not good for either of us.”
Robert doused his omelet in ketchup and swirled it with a fork. “I love ketchup on my eggs.”
“Are you hearing me, Robert? This has to stop.”
“Whatever you want, Kelly. I just want you to be happy.”
She sighed and shoveled egg into her mouth. Her brief respite a moment ago had been ruined, and now the food tasted as slimy and cold as the conversation.
“Maybe we could talk more after breakfast, in the van.”
Kelly slammed her fork to the counter, and her hand knocked the stainless-steel carafe of coffee cream over the edge of the counter, where it clanged to the ground.
“Everything okay, y’all? If Jose done messed up the eggs again, I’ll take it to him.”
Kelly looked up at Hazel and shook her head. “Everything’s fine. Can we have the check, please?”
“Sure can.”
Robert continued eating his omelet, dipping each bite into a puddle of red and then slowly shoving it into his face.
“I’m calling a cab.”
“Kelly, please. I heard you. I get it. Can you let me finish my breakfast and then I’ll take us back to the station?”
She looked at Robert and bit her bottom lip.
“C’mon, Kelly. Relax. We’re off tomorrow, remember?”
“I’m sorry, Robert. I’m tired and we’ve had a long night. I really didn’t mean to be such a bitch. I’m sorry if it came off that way, but I just wanted to be clear that this thing with us really has to stop.”
“No worries. I got it. Let’s enjoy the rest of this and then head back to the station.”
Kelly sighed and fished through her purse for a tissue. She bumped her phone and it turned on, showing her battery indicator in the red. Need to charge that when I get home.
Robert watched her out of the corner of his eye, chewing and swallowing the egg while massaging an erection underneath the counter.
***
Robert paid the bill. He told Kelly to head to the van while he made a stop in the restroom. He did so and re-pocketed the tip he had left the waitress on the way out. The sun had risen higher in the sky and began to warm the ground toward a splendid late-summer day. The air felt crisp yet gentle, and the tang of burnt rubber had left his nose.
Kelly sat in the passenger seat, staring out into the distance. The window had stopped three-quarters down when Robert shut the engine off, which left her an opening to enjoy the morning air.
“All set?” he asked, sliding back into the familiar impression his wide ass had made in the seat cushion.
“Yes. I’m feeling better now that I got some food in me. Thanks, Robert. I hope I wasn’t too blunt in there. I get cranky when I’m tired.”
“No need to apologize. I understand. Let’s head back to the station.”
Robert pulled out of the lot and spun the knob on the radio until it landed upon crooning country, the kind that did little to evoke emotion in the listener. He left it there although, in all honesty, Robert preferred the authentic sadness of Johnny Cash to the sanitized, auto-tuned country “stars” of today. He began to hum, but with no attempt at matching the melody.
Kelly smiled and shrugged, closing her eyes as the sun warmed her face.
“Should we find a spot and finish our conversation?”
The question hit Kelly like a sudden cramp, the greasy egg turning in her stomach.
“Robert, really? I thought we decided this had to end and that we’d talk more when we were both fresh?”
“Not exactly how I remember it,” he replied. “I think we agreed to talk in the van and straighten things out. Should we go to our usual spot?”
“Let me out,” she replied. “Right now. Stop the van and let me out.”
“Please, Kelly. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“I’m serious, Robert. Stop the fucking van right now.”
Robert dropped his shoulders and shook his head. He pulled the van off to the shoulder of the road, letting the other traffic move by at a steady thirty-five miles per hour. He looked in the rearview mirror and then back at Kelly. She was grabbing her purse and reaching for the door.
“Kelly?”
“What, Robert?” she replied, the night and subsequent agitation deepening her bloodshot eyes.
“Do you really want to do this?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“You want out of this van? You don’t want to be with me any longer?”
“That’s right. I’m done with you and I’m done with this fucking van. Is there anything else?”
“Just one more thing,” Robert replied.
He brought his left fist from behind his ear and landed it squarely on Kelly’s chin. He heard a crack of bone as she slumped back against the van’s high seat, her arms spread out as her eyes rolled back into her head.
***
Robert shook his hand and immediately put the knuckle of his middle finger in his mouth. He sucked at it like an infant, tasting the coppery blood leaking from where Kelly’s tooth had broken the skin. “Stupid fucking bitch.”
Robert glanced in the mirror again as another car passed. A news van on the side of the road would not raise much suspicion, but he did n
ot want to risk a Pine Valley traffic cop pulling up to check on them. He left the van and walked around to the back. Robert opened the left door and grabbed the two bungee cords holding his tripod in place. He slammed the door and waddled around to the passenger side, opening it and tying one of the cords around Kelly’s wrists and the other around her ankles. People didn’t always remain unconscious like they did in the movies, and he did not want to risk her coming around while he was driving and unprotected. Once he felt the ties were secure, he shut her door and ran around the front of the van to the driver side.
Robert climbed in and backpedaled into the van, grabbing Kelly’s shoulders as he went past. He dragged her between the seats and laid her down on a piece of carpet stained with grease, her perfume mixing oddly with the scent of motor oil. Robert looked around, finding a piece of twine sticking out from underneath the seat. He knotted it and tied it through the eyehook on the floor and through Kelly’s bonds. She might be able to sit up, but that was as far as she would make it, and Robert would have to work with it. He swore, angry at himself for not being as prepared as he should have been. He had put his camera on hundreds—if not thousands—of crime scenes in his day, and he knew better. The job was sloppy and would require a meticulous cleanup. But all of that would have to wait. After all, why bother with the cleanup unless you were going to have a really good time first?
***
The first thing Kelly felt was the movement of the van beneath her. She had an excruciating pain in her mouth and could not remember what had happened. Her head ached, and she moved her mouth, but no words came out. As if stuck in a nightmare, Kelly began to scream and produced nothing but hissing air. She looked at the back of Robert’s head. Even through her blurry vision, she could make out his greasy comb-over and dandruff. In that moment, the realization struck, sending a warm release of urine down her leg. Kelly moaned, seeing her purse sitting on the floor near her feet. She remembered the low battery level and winced.
“I don’t have to gag you, do I? I mean, I will if I have to, but that won’t be nearly as much fun. I want your mouth to be ready, moist.”
“Untie me, Robert.”
Each word she spoke felt like a steel rod driven through her skull. She thought of all of the action/adventure movies she loved, and remembered those Hollywood fistfights. Kelly could not believe she was thinking about faked violence at a time like this, but she now knew firsthand that one good punch to the jaw was enough to incapacitate someone, especially someone not expecting it.
“I can’t do that, Kelly. I tried. Goddamn it, I tried. But you were so fucking stubborn, weren’t you? You forced my hand. Whatever happens now is on you, not me.”
She blinked, and it made her eyes burn. Kelly looked through the windshield, seeing an occasional traffic light pass above. We’re still in the city, at least. There’s still a chance of somebody finding me. “Please, Robert. There’s nothing I can do with my arms and legs tied up.”
“Oh, I disagree,” he replied. “You are clearly not a fan of bondage, are you?”
“No, Robert. I’m not a huge fan of pornography in general.”
He smiled as the van came to a stop. He turned to look at Kelly on the floor, and it made him even harder. The camera sat a few feet from her head, and when his eye caught the lens, Robert’s face opened into a wide grin.
“I hadn’t thought of it, but now that I do, I think it’s a great idea. Our gear is top notch, Kelly. That camera probably cost the station ten grand. It’s going to work really well.”
“The longer this goes on, the harder it’s going to be for you, Robert.”
“Now you’re talking, sweetheart! I couldn’t agree more.”
Kelly winced as he turned to face the green light, accelerating and turning the van onto another road. She felt the transmission shift beneath the bed of steel along with the hum of the tires as they picked up speed. Kelly imagined the van leaving town, taking her last hope with them.
“Where are we going?” she asked, knowing he probably was not sure.
“Somewhere private and with a little more room than this shitty van. Don’t get me wrong, the blow-jobs you gave me in here were always fantastic, but I think our relationship is ready for the next level.”
Kelly bit her lip and decided that he was beyond reason. Whatever he planned on doing was going to happen whether she entertained his conversation or not. She decided not to be complicit in the pain that was coming. If she was going to die, she would do it with dignity and try her best not to give the sick fuck what he wanted.
“Don’t you agree, sweetie?”
Kelly ignored him.
“Oh, now don’t you go getting all quiet on me now. It ain’t gonna be as much fun if you do that . . . unless I ball gag you.”
Robert’s lumpy fingers reached over and turned the volume up on the radio until the vanilla country twang drowned out all but the van’s engine. He yelped and yodeled, not bothering to care whether it matched the tune or not.
Kelly closed her eyes and tried remembering the breathing techniques from the yoga class she took in college. She tried to focus all of her energy on her breathing, slowing her heart rate and putting her fear under control. The instructor’s face came back almost immediately. He was middle aged at the time, with a beard peppered by gray hairs on his chin. Kelly could not remember his name, but she did have a crush on him, the way young women do with distinguished and intelligent college professors. She counted and exhaled, thankful that Robert had not smashed her nose. Kelly saw fingers of light dance behind her eyelids, and at each distraction, she went deeper into meditation. As she was about to clear her mind completely, the van stopped, and she felt the jerking motion of Robert putting the vehicle into park. A second later, he opened the door, climbed out, and then slammed it shut. Kelly opened her eyes and saw the dark-green branches of pine trees that extended hundreds of feet into the air.
Pine Valley, she thought, stifling a giggle at the name and her current situation. She realized that she could be anywhere with fifteen miles of town, based on their travel time, and in any direction. That made the likelihood of someone spotting the van as high as that of Robert cutting the bonds and letting her go.
“We’re home, honey,” said Robert as he tossed open the rear doors of the van, bathing Kelly in what she hoped would not be her last taste of sunshine.
***
“I’m heading out to help the ladies at the library today. They’re getting ready for the block party next week.”
“Before you know it, Halloween will be next, and then your big season.”
Gladys smiled at Frank and put another ball of yarn in her basket. “How was your shift?” she asked.
“The usual calls,” Frank replied, playing the role he had throughout their decades of married life. She knew things often ended horribly, and he knew that upset her. “House fire.”
“I hope everyone is okay,” she said, sliding a lightweight jacket over her shoulders in anticipation of an evening chill.
“Enjoy the library. Tell Linda she still owes me a box of those famous oatmeal-raisin cookies.”
Gladys walked past Frank, placing a light kiss on his cheek covered in soot and stubble. “Smells like you didn’t shower at the station.”
“I just wanted to get home, shower, and climb into my own bed.”
“Pot roast and potatoes in the fridge for you whenever you want to eat.”
“Thanks, hon. Love you.”
“Love you too, Frank,” Gladys replied as she pulled the door to the garage shut behind her.
Frank heard the chain from the garage-door opener rattling against the steel track and made a mental note to tighten that down a bit.
Shit never ends. Maybe we should sell the house and buy the condo in Boca Raton, he thought. But then I’d have to admit her whack-job brother was right about something.
Frank allowed himself a slight giggle and walked down the steps to the basement, where the washer and dryer stoo
d gleaming against the dingy cinderblock wall. He had always felt fortunate to have a basement. The Yanks had them, but a lot of the South didn’t. For some reason, his house was the only one on the block with a basement. Frank remembered the real-estate agent having said that almost forty years ago. He stripped off his clothes and dropped them onto a heap of garments overflowing toward the drain. Frank turned and saw a stack of old board games next to a skateboard leaning against the wall.
Where has it all gone? he asked himself.
Frank knew the sayings were true. When their family was young, people had given the same advice to him and Gladys all the time.
“They grow up so fast.”
“Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”
Those comments used to irritate him to no end. There was always something sinister embedded within the words, as if the person saying them was reveling in their inevitable, painful truth.
He waved a hand at the remnants of his offspring’s childhood and nudged the pile of clothes closer together with his foot. Even though he was in the house alone, Frank left his underwear on. He grabbed the hand rail and plodded back upstairs, the night’s activities still wreaking havoc on his tired joints. When he stepped back into the kitchen, Frank grabbed the bottle of aspirin next to Gladys’ orange, plastic forest of medications and threw two pills down his throat. He hated taking medication of any kind, as if doing so were somehow a show of weakness. Frank thrust his head into the sink and took a swig of water directly from the spout.
Bright sunshine warmed the tile on the kitchen floor, and Frank inhaled the coffee grounds Gladys had left on the counter. He felt relieved to be home, comfortable, yet restless. Frank walked down the hallway to the bathroom. He started the water before grabbing a fresh towel from the linen closet. As he pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the steaming shower, a surprising thing happened.
Frank had an erection.
He looked down past his gray pubic hairs and saggy midsection and laughed. It had been a long time since this happened, if he didn’t count the time he took that purple pill on his birthday and had to spend the entire night talking it down. This one was au naturel, like the old days.
