In the parking lot, Jillian had smoked her last cigarette, thrown the rest of the pack out the car window as she sped away, furious. Since then, she’d been cursed by terrible nicotine fits.
Alex opened a CD case and pulled out the disc. “Don’t bitch at me. I’m not the father.”
Jillian’s gaze darted up to the rearview window again. There was no reaction from Robby to what Alex said. He remained mute and motionless, his gaze locked on the trees they zoomed by. She lowered her voice. “Can we not talk about that right now?”
Alex shrugged. “He already knows. Everybody does.”
Jillian felt her left temple throb. “Still, we don’t have to bring it up. He’s been through enough today.”
“And you think talking about his stepdad will push him over the edge?”
“Hey, I ended the situation.”
Alex looked down at Jillian’s belly, straining against the bottom arch of the steering wheel. “It looks like your timing was a bit off.”
Jillian glanced down at the three cigarette burns on the panel of her door. They were in the shape of a triangle. They were history—each charred hole in the gray fabric had a story behind it. Jillian silently ached to be holding her favorite pink lighter—to bring the flame to the end of a cigarette and inhale deeply. She lashed out at Alex. “I don’t need this shit from you today, all right?”
“Fine. Sorry.”
“And I don’t want to listen to music right now!”
“Bite my head off.”
Without saying another word, Jillian pulled over to the side of the road. The front wheels of the white car slid onto the grass, wet from the humid air. The car hadn’t even fully stopped when Jillian turned to Alex in a rage. “This is bullshit!”
“Why are you yelling at me?”
“Because you’re an asshole.” On impulse, she opened the car door and got out.
Alex quickly followed, tossing the CD and its case back into the car.
Jillian stumbled around the car, away from the steaming highway. She was a fast-moving blur of white, pink and green polka dots, and faded denim jeans. She leaned against the hood on the passenger side. “Will you get back in the car, please?” Alex asked. “I’m sorry, Jilli.”
She folded her arms across her chest, indignant. “Don’t tell that to me, tell it to Robby.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Does it even matter to you?” Alex stared at her blankly. “Of course it doesn’t. That’s just how you are, Alex. You never want to deal with the sensitive stuff.”
“What are you accusing me of, exactly?”
Tears filled Jillian’s eyes and she could tell they took Alex by surprise. In the twelve years of their friendship, Jillian had rarely let him see her cry. She looked away from him. Her voice shook and the edges of her mouth trembled. “You need to be there for him.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re not.” Jillian started to cry harder and it made her angrier. “He’s all busted up and sad inside. Fuck, it breaks my heart just to look at him.”
Alex turned back toward the car. “Then don’t.”
Jillian grabbed the back of Alex’s T-shirt, snapping him back toward her. “Why are you trying to ignore this?”
Alex twisted around and faced Jillian. A dark curl dipped down in front of his left eye, and even though she was mad at him, Jillian instinctively brushed it out of his view. “What choice do I have? You want me to go find the guys who did this and put a bullet through their heads?”
“I want you to care.”
“I know what this is about.”
“I told you—”
“Bullshit. You’re pissed off because you can’t smoke.”
“Fuck you.”
“And you’re upset about working at Value Mart.”
“I’m gonna burn the motherfucking place to the ground, Alex!”
He took a breath before he said, “You’re scared you’re gonna get stuck here.”
The words cracked her tough exterior even more. “Are you my shrink now? God, lay off. It’s too insane for me.”
“The fact Robby got beaten up or because you’re pregnant?”
“I’m fucking scared, all right? I know you’re gonna leave.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t try to look all innocent. I know you want out of here.”
Alex almost laughed. “I do?”
“After graduation next week.”
Alex shook his head. “You’re wrong, Jilli. I hadn’t even thought about leaving.”
Jillian turned to him. Her hair whipped across her face and she tucked it behind her ear with a quick finger. “Well, why not?” she asked. “It’s not like there’s anything here for us.”
“You’ve thought about leaving Harmonville?”
Jillian wiped at her eyes. “Every day of my life. Since I was twelve.”
As was his habit when the topic of conversation became too personal, Alex changed the subject. “It bothers you? My reaction to what happened to Robby today?”
Jillian glanced away, toward the highway, the passing cars and diesel trucks. She nodded.
“Why?” Alex prompted.
“It doesn’t seem right,” Jillian decided, her Georgian roots clinging subtly to the edges of her cadence, her emotions. “It doesn’t freak you out that a couple of redneck assholes decided to use a Louisville Slugger on Robby’s face.”
Alex and Jillian stood only inches from each other, draped in silence. Their bodies were frozen like victims of a botched game of tag. Jillian felt the hum and vibration of the car, close to her right leg. Alex was leaning against the frame, his left hip pressed against the white metal. They stared at each other, realizing something had to be done. Something they’d often dreamt about, but never dared to speak.
It was at that moment Robby poked his head out of the window in the backseat and proudly declared, “It wasn’t a baseball bat. It was a hockey stick.” Robby looked to Jillian first and attempted to smile at her. His effort made her tears return. His head shifted to the right and he looked deep into Alex’s eyes when he said, “But the stupid thing broke after the first hit.”
*
As soon as Alex got the idea, the world around them seemed to shift. Everything felt as if it were moving faster, sped up to the point where all motion appeared like euphoric blurs of light and sound, bolts and hot splashes of color and noise. The excitement in Alex’s voice was contagious, and within seconds, Jillian caught the same disease.
They were still in the car; the three of them were en route to Jillian’s house. She was supposed to change her clothes before heading off to Value Mart.
Jillian was nervous, fidgeting behind the steering wheel, still missing the time in her life when she could smoke a pack a day.
Alex was staring at the cover of Hole’s Nobody’s Daughter CD. Her best friend appeared lost in deep thought.
Alex looked up and stared through the windshield at the long stretch of road in front of the car. Jillian felt the sudden rush of energy emitting from his skin like a sudden spark. She glanced at him and he looked like he’d just reached a final decision. It gave her goose bumps.
“We are leaving,” he announced.
The car swerved a little into the other lane before Jillian straightened it out. “What did you just say?”
Only moments had passed since she’d pulled the car over to the side of the road and waited until Alex had convinced her he would never allow her to suffer alone in Harmonville.
“You son of a bitch,” she hissed at him. “I thought you just said you’d never leave me in this place.”
“I’m not,” he promised. “You’re going with us.”
“I am?”
“Together,” he breathed.
Robby
Robby was in the backseat, flinching and wincing each time the car encountered a pothole or Jillian took a turn too sharply. The pain was searing in his rib cage. He wondered how
Harley would feel when he saw the damage done to him. Then again, Harley hadn’t paid much attention to him once his wife had disappeared. He agreed to let Robby move in with John and Alex without a fight.
Robby wondered if and when he’d hear from his mother again. There hadn’t been a word from her since the postcard came from Satellite Beach, Florida, postmarked on Valentine’s Day. Maybe she was mailing him a piece of her heart, from the center of her new life. “I love you,” the postcard read. “I’m sorry.”
Robby started to smile, realizing he knew Alex better than Jillian did. Jillian freaked out, instantly assuming she was going to be left behind like a big, pregnant dust cloud. But Robby knew Alex meant the three of them would be leaving together.
“No matter what,” Jillian once told Robby one night on Alex’s island, after she’d finished off a couple of Coronas. “Alex and I will always be best friends. We’ve known each other for twelve years. He’s like my twin brother.”
In the backseat, Robby secretly gloated over his victory. Despite the fact he’d met Alex only nine months ago, it was obvious he was able to anticipate Alex’s words and thoughts better than Jillian. To prove Robby’s muted point, Alex said, “The three of us. We’re leaving.”
Jillian didn’t hesitate. She didn’t protest or question Alex’s possibly rash decision. She simply said, “When?”
“Give me a few hours,” he instructed.
“What do I have to do?” she responded.
*
It was like they were planning a bank robbery, a strategic heist that would change their lives forever. They were comrades, spies, quickly rattling off ideas and details. They were gamblers, addicted to the same twirling slot machine that was certain to pay out. Escaping appeared to be second nature to them.
Robby watched and listened from the backseat. The idea became visible, glowing and growing larger by the second, like an overinflated balloon or a pumped-up bicycle tire. It was circling in the air around them, hovering like a two-engine plane sputtering and coughing but sustaining life in the air.
It felt electric.
Alex was clearly in charge, the conductor of their symphony. “We go to your house. Pack your things.”
“I only need one bag.”
“What about the baby?” he threw back at her.
“I’ve got two more months to think about her,” she countered.
Robby’s excitement started to swim.
“We’re leaving tonight, Jillian.”
“Let’s do it.” She was fearless—the quality Robby liked most about her. Maybe the only one.
“Do you have any money?” Alex asked her.
She nodded. “A hundred and fifty bucks or so in the bank. A check for sixty dollars from my grandma at home. I’m supposed to use it to buy a maternity dress for graduation.”
Alex ripped open his backpack for school, tore a sheet of paper out of a notebook. He opened the glove compartment, fished for a pen or pencil. “I’ve got seven hundred and some change saved up,” he confided. “I could sell my comic book collection.”
“No.” Jillian shook her head adamantly. “No, you can’t do that. I won’t let you. Those are way too important to you.”
“I’ve got three hundred and forty-three dollars and a jelly jar full of quarters,” Robby offered, anxious to be included in the plan.
Alex started adding up the figures on paper. “I think we’re good,” he decided for everyone.
“Good for what?” Jillian asked, struggling to keep her eyes on the road. She was distracted by her own giddiness.
“For us to start over.”
Jillian could barely breathe. Robby feared she might go into labor two months ahead of schedule. “Together? The three of us?”
Alex checked his math. “We’ve got enough money for gas…an apartment.”
Jillian and Robby spoke at the same time. “An apartment?” they echoed.
“We’re moving in together?” Jillian asked.
Robby was already decorating their new kitchen in his mind.
“If you want to,” Alex teased.
Jillian let out a squeal, a celebratory shout. Then, “Fuck yes, I want to!”
“We’ll go to your house first,” Alex explained. “We’ll get your stuff packed up and in the car. I’ll drop you off at work.”
“I’m not going to work,” Jillian protested.
“Yes, you are. You need to get your last paycheck,” he reminded her.
Jillian nodded, accepting the command. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Robby and I will go to my house, grab a few things. Get some clothes.”
“Then you’ll come get me?” Jillian could barely contain herself. It was evident to Robby she was ready to fill up the gas tank and hit the road.
“We’ll be there to pick you up before sundown. I promise.”
Jillian breathed deep, caressed her belly with the palm of her right hand. “I can’t wait, Alex. This is why I love you. This is why you’re my best friend. I would never be able to pull off something as crazy as this on my own.”
From the backseat came Robby’s voice: “We should’ve done this sooner.”
“This is so perfect,” Jillian continued, manic and high. “It’s the ultimate fuck you to this place. Promise me we’ll be out of the God-awful state of Georgia by midnight.”
“Shit,” Alex said. “If we leave tonight, we’ll miss graduation.”
Both Alex and Jillian started laughing. Hers was heavy and thick, his was melodic and kind. Jillian shook her head, pushed a handful of dyed black hair away from her fake green eyes, and proclaimed, “It’s a ridiculous ceremony for boneheads. We’re through with finals. Who gives a shit? I say, the sooner we leave the better. They can mail me my fucking diploma.”
“I agree,” Robby said, leaning forward and placing a hand on Alex’s left shoulder.
“Money might be tight, once we get there,” Alex told them, trying to sound practical by giving them a gentle warning—a small dash of reality to mix in with their wild dreams of ultimate freedom.
Jillian clearly wouldn’t be stopped. “I don’t care if I have to live on rice and water for six months, let’s go.”
Robby winced a little as the pain in his ribs intensified. “Hey, we’ve been through worse, right?” he offered. His words, his positive energy, his eternal optimism sealed their unified desire to flee their own lives.
“My thoughts exactly,” Alex said. “Even if we have to swim to get there.”
“I just hope we don’t drown first,” Jillian said.
Alex gave her a look. “I won’t let you,” he said. “You know that.”
Jillian laughed a little and then said, “This might sound like a dumb question, but where are we swimming to?”
Alex turned to his best friend and said, with deep hope in his voice, “Chicago.”
Jillian
Once they arrived at her house, Jillian stole one of her mother’s suitcases out of the garage and packed her belongings in less than fifteen minutes. The three of them scrambled around her bedroom, ripping clothes from hangers and piling photographs, paperbacks, pairs of shoes onto the growing heap. Once her hair dryer and makeup bag were tossed onto the pile, Jillian climbed on top of her bed, sat down on the overstuffed suitcase, and instructed Alex to zip the thing shut. They struggled and fought with it, but finally won.
She moved across the room to the bookshelf and grabbed the Chinese wish box. On impulse, she turned to her best friend, and placed it in his palm.
She was trusting him to guard her secret desires for her. Until she needed them back.
“I’m ready,” she announced, breathless.
*
After a quick trip through the drive-thru of Dairy Queen, they were back on the road heading toward Value Mart.
“They have two Value Marts in Stockbridge, one in McDonough, and one in Griffin. Why in the hell did we need one in Harmonville?” Jillian wondered aloud, trying to drive and eat at the s
ame time.
“I still can’t believe you work there,” Alex teased.
“Are you jealous? Because I ended up with a glamorous career?” she replied. “I’ll see if I can hook you up with a position there. Maybe if you’re lucky, Sue Ellen Freeman will let you feel her up in the break room. The nasty little cow lets everyone else have a crack at her.”
“Don’t bother,” he told her. “We’re getting out of this place.”
“Amen,” she agreed with a holler. “Chicago, here we come!”
“Robby, are you okay?” Alex asked.
Robby leaned forward in the backseat, holding his strawberry milkshake in his right hand. “I’ve never been to Chicago before. I’m excited.”
“It’s going to be awesome,” Jillian enthused. “Can you imagine? God, Alex, I’ve always wanted to live in a big city. I can get a really cool job and find a really good school for my daughter to go to. We’re finally going to be living.”
“Chicago was a very special place to my mother,” Alex explained. “She loved it even more than Alaverdi.” He looked away, out the window, to the clouds above. “In fact, she never really cared much for Armenia.” His words were soft and under his breath, spoken in Armenian, but Jillian knew the meaning of them: “Im mairuh.”
My mother.
“Son of a bitch!” Jillian yelled.
Alex seemed more annoyed than concerned. “What? What’s the matter?”
“One of my contacts just fell out.” Alex started to laugh. Jillian shoved a paper cup in his face. “Here. Look for it.”
“In your ice cream? You’re out of your mind.”
“Alex Bainbridge, start looking now. I’m not going to work looking like a mutant with two different-colored eyes.”
For the first time since Jillian had seen him that day, Robby LaMont let out a genuine laugh. The sound of it caused Alex to smile. It was the first indication Robby would pull through the ordeal he’d suffered—and Jillian was grateful for the sign. Soon, everything would be back to normal.
Swimming to Chicago Page 13
