by P. J. Post
“No, I mean, Tonya doesn’t even hold his hand.”
“So?”
“I don’t know, it just strikes me as weird,” he says, shaking his head.
“Okay, they have a weird relationship. Let’s just back up to the dock and get to loading in so I can start drinking?”
Todd pulls the van around to the back while I put my shoes on.
The overhead door is open and a few guys from the club and other bands are milling about.
We hop out and start setting equipment up on the dock when Peggy’s Z pulls up.
Tonya and Peggy get out and they’re wearing matching outfits: chucks, jeans and football half-shirts, like Tonya was wearing at The Underground last week. They both look hot, but Peggy looks alive again. The circles under her eyes have disappeared.
Tonya just looks tired.
Todd jumps down off the dock and picks Peggy up and hugs her as he twirls her around. Tonya ignores all of us, walking up the steps and disappears through the back service entrance.
Peggy whispers something to Todd and he sets her down. She steps over to me, while he jumps back up on the dock and starts moving our gear into the main room.
“It’s been three days and you still haven’t talked to her. What’s your malfunction?” Peggy asks.
“I don’t know. Did she mention what’s up with her family?”
“No, she hasn’t said anything, but you’re changing the subject. If you love her, why haven’t you talked to her?”
“We never have any time alone, except at night and in the mornings, but she always hides upstairs.” I say.
“You’re going to lose her, Connor. It’s just that simple,” she says it so matter of factly that it feels like a slap.
“I already have, she’s going out with Trevor — Mister Amazing.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“What do you mean? She’s been out with him the last three nights,” I say.
“We’ve double dated the last three nights, yeah, but she never seems quite comfortable around him. She never talks about him.”
That sounds like what Todd was just saying, but I have no idea why they’re telling me this or what it means.
“I bet she doesn’t talk about me either, though, huh?” I ask.
“No, she doesn’t. Sorry. She doesn’t talk about much to be honest, just trivial crap. Trevor talks about you, though. How twisted is that? He thinks a lot of you.”
“Yeah, he seems like a nice guy.” Although I did dream about shoving an ice-pick through his eye last night.
“But the thing is, if she were so in love with Trevor, why is she so sad all the time?”
“She is?” I ask with concern.
“I’m not sure what Tonya’s…”
“Beth. I know she’s Bethany Warner. I know about the suicide attempt and that you saved her life, so let’s not pretend anymore?”
Peggy is taken aback. Tonya must have explained her new persona and that no one knew about her past. Trevor hasn’t slipped since that first night either. “She doesn’t know, does she? I mean, that you know?”
“No, and I’m trying to keep it that way. We met two years ago.”
“I know. You were all she talked about, and you broke her heart when you never called. What happened there?”
“Did she tell you what happened the night we met?”
“In detail, yeah. Over and over,” Peggy laughs sadly.
“I think I got a concussion or something when that prick kicked my ass.”
“Tommy, his name is Tommy,” she says with venom. “So what does that mean, a concussion?”
“I couldn’t remember anything about her.”
“Nothing?” she asks.
“Not a goddamn thing. Not her name or even quite what she looked like. I remembered blonde curls, though, yellow clothes and lots of hope in her big brown eyes.”
“That was her, alright. You couldn’t remember her, but you remember what she was wearing?”
“Yeah. Fucked up, huh? Anyway, I looked for her, tried to find her.”
“Did you remember her when she joined the band?” she asks curiously.
“Fuck no. She looked completely different. It only happened a few days ago.”
“What happened?
“I remembered.”
“Why, what changed?” she asks.
“Her perfume. She wore that honeysuckle perfume and then it was, like it all came back. I remembered everything,” I say.
“I was with her everyday back then and I don’t even remember what perfume she wore. She must have made quite the impression on you too,” she says with a knowing grin.
“I fell in love with her the night we met and it’s screwed my life up ever since.”
“Love’s like that,” she says grinning, “So why didn’t you tell her once you remembered everything?”
“Because she never told me about why she tried to kill herself, and I don’t think she’s ready to talk about it, not with me, not yet.”
“No, we haven’t talked about it either. We’re pretending it never happened. Fucked up, huh?”
“Everything about this is fucked up.”
“You going to ask me what happened?” Peggy looks at me like she’s judging me.
“No, if Beth wants me to know, then she’ll tell me. I feel helpless, Peg, I really do.”
Peggy turns and hugs me. “So you’re afraid that if you tell her that you know who she is, then she’ll feel like she has to explain everything and that she might run away or something? But if you don’t say something soon, then she’ll still leave?”
“You’re a smart girl, Peg. I told you, you know stuff.”
“It’s kind of what happened between me and her, like I told you the other night,” she says.
“Yeah, so I’m not crazy?”
“No, you’re not. I wish I could tell you what to do, but I can’t. I mean, I respect you for not asking about what happened to her and you get points for that. I wish I hadn’t told you what I did, you know, about her suicide. But even so, if I knew what you should do, I’d tell you. I really would.”
“Do I need to be worried about Trevor?” I ask.
“If she spends enough time with him, yeah, she might convince herself that she should be with him. Right now, though, it seems like she’s acting out or something.”
“Acting out?”
“I can’t explain it; something just doesn’t feel right between them when they’re together.”
“Look, I love the shit out of her. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever.”
“I know, I can see it in your eyes,” she says, but she can’t keep the sadness out of her voice.
I look away. “So you said the other day. Don’t tell her, that I know anything, please.”
“I won’t,” she says comfortingly.
“All I want is for her to be happy; even if that means she fucking marries Trevor or whoever,” I say.
Fate gave me the chance to fall in love with her twice, but that has nothing to do with how she feels about me and even though it hurts, a pain I’m becoming much too familiar with, if I truly love her, then I have to set aside that love — set aside my selfish desires. I have to not only let her go, but help her to find her own happiness — no matter how far that takes her from me.
I look back to Peg. “Is that so much to ask, just for her to be happy?”
She hugs me again, laying her head on my shoulder and whispers, “Sometimes I think that is too much to ask for anyone.”
§§§§§
The inside of the Palomino is a dump. The last tenant had a going out of business party that trashed the place, and the current occupant didn’t see any pressing need to fix anything. All of the decoration and décor from over the years is still here, disco balls, steer horns mounted on plaques on the wall, a bull riding machine, stripper poles on the stage, and an all-you-can-eat lunch special banner hanging over the bar.
It’s dark
, but I see Tonya off to the side of the stage, standing in the early evening glow from the loading dock, talking with some of the club guys and other bands. She sees me and begins to laugh at some joke I’m too far away to hear.
Her eyes follow me as I cross the stage, her expression neutral.
I’m not sure how long I can keep doing this — being around her.
I try to focus on setting up my equipment, pulling out cords, effects boxes and my guitar stand. I leave my guitar in its case, but position my amp so it’s ready to roll into place when we go on.
I keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye. It’s like she’s everywhere I look, circling me, even when I close my eyes.
Once I set up my equipment, I don’t wait for Todd or Greg, I make a line for the bar and start drinking. Let them take care of their own shit.
I’m well into finishing off my first pitcher when Greg finally shows up. Todd helps him haul his drums in and set up. The others are hanging out with him, and Peggy keeps stealing glances across the room at me. I’m Mister Invisible again to Tonya, Beth — whoever the fuck she is.
The other bands tonight are not quite punk. I’ve seen them before and they have a good following so we should have a decent turn-out. We all went out for flyer patrol before they ditched me, so hopefully we’ll get a few of our fans here as well.
I pour another beer from the pitcher and look back to the stage to see Carla and Shauna hanging out with the others.
Fuck me.
I should have known, Carla is still Tonya’s friend, but I’m surprised to see Shauna here. Tonya is introducing everyone and Shauna seems to be doing her best to avoid staring at me. I turn my back on them and get to work finishing off the pitcher of beer.
All I can think about is talking to Tonya. I’m running my conversation with Peggy over and over in my head, but getting no where. I’m still drinking alone when the doors open and the bar starts to fill up.
I can’t take it anymore.
I walk backstage and find Tonya. Trevor’s there too. She’s talking with everyone and as soon as she sees me, she slides one arm around Trevor. I get it that she’s not into me, but if what Peggy says is true and she knows how I feel about her, why does she have to be a bitch about it?
“Hey,” I say to everyone. “Tonya, got a second?”
I’ve unintentionally cornered her. She can’t really say no and I feel like an asshole, but I still need to talk to her.
She nods and makes a big deal about leaving Trevor and follows me out to the loading dock.
I light a cigarette, staring out at the oil field and the orange and purple sky.
I’m not sure how to even start the conversation.
“So what’s with the silent treatment?” I ask.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about. What the fuck, Tonya?”
“I’m going back in. I don’t need this,” she says.
“You said we were going to talk about what’s going on, and it’s been a few days, so — what’s going on?”
She sighs and steps next to me. “It’s no big deal, really.”
“Then why the secrecy? Are we really going to go around in circles here?” I ask.
She’s quiet for a few minutes and I give her space.
“I think this is my last show for a while,” she says.
I feel like she just kicked me in the stomach. It’s not enough for her to break my heart, but now she has to kill the band as well? Everything we’ve built? Everything we’ve worked so hard for? What about Todd?
I feel my heart turning cold again — hardening, like I was before I remembered who she was, before I fell in love with her again. It feels as ugly and alien as my jealousy, but I’ve missed it.
It’s better this way. I was being a fool.
I won’t make this fucking mistake again.
“Does anyone else know?” I ask, barely masking my growing anger.
“Carla knows.”
“Not Peg?”
“I’m not sure I can trust her yet, besides, we’ve been catching up and I don’t want to dump on her,” she says.
“Fair enough, I guess, but why?” I ask.
“Why what?”
“Why are you leaving?” I ask.
“I need a break. I’m going back to school, in the fall.”
“Okay, I guess I get the break thing. But what does that have to do with the college?”
“Remember I said I wasn’t honest with you?”
“Yeah.”
“My dad has been paying for everything. Don’t worry, I kept all of yours and Todd’s rent money in a lockbox in my room at the Garage in case we needed it, or you needed it. I wasn’t spending it. I don’t want you to think I was conning you, at least not about that. I didn’t know how to explain before, but I’ll get it for you.”
“Who gives a shit about the money? I still don’t get what you’re talking about.”
“My dad said I’d had enough time to get over my…” This is the first night she’s wearing short sleeves and no wrist bands or gloves. I remember that Trevor is Bradford’s friend, so he must already know about everything that happened. Another reason to want to hate him, but I can’t bring myself to. She holds up her wrists and shows me her scars. “He said if I didn’t go back to school, he was going to cut me off. So, I’m going back to school.”
“So, your dad pays your rent? And when he says no more, the band is over, everything, is over? Just like that, like you’re a puppet?”
“Tread carefully, Connor,” she says firmly.
“What about the band, Todd and me?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I might be going to school out of state.”
“It sounds like you’re pretty goddamn sure to me. Leaving the state pretty much kills the band doesn’t it?” I hear the frustration seeping into my tone.
“I’m sorry. Don’t tell Todd and Greg, not yet anyway — please. I’m sorry.”
“Sure, I’m a fucking pro at keeping secrets.”
I spare a glance and she looks at me with an odd expression of humility. “Thanks.”
We stand there in silence and then I flick my cigarette out into the parking lot.
“You said what you have to say about the band, but what does that mean for you and me, for our friendship?” I ask.
She says nothing. I sense how close she is. I smell that goddamn perfume and yet she feels like she’s already gone, a million miles away. I wonder if she would still wear it if she knew what it did to me?
“I just don’t get it. Why does it have to be like this?” I ask.
“Like what?” she asks with that same detached tone she’s getting so good at.
“We can get a different place. We don’t need his money. This is bullshit, he can’t control you like this.”
“It’s not like that,” she says quietly.
“You mean it’s not like we were friends?”
Her eyes suddenly well up and she looks away. The setting sun is shining off her tears and it reminds me of standing in the Garage parking lot, back when I thought everything was going to be peaches and cream.
“Tonya?” I ask, searching.
She looks back as she wipes her eyes.
“Are we friends?” I ask, my voice much huskier than I would like.
“I’m a total poser,” she says angrily. “I was just playing at being punk, playing at being in the band, playing at being free. I’m not poor and never was. I’m rich, Connor. I’ve been the little rich girl playing with her toys and now it’s time to put those toys away and grow up. I suggest you do the same.”
She turns to leave and I reach out and gently touch her shoulder.
“But what about us?” I ask.
She jerks away from me as though my hand is on fire. “I’m sorry. I was playing at that too.” She stops and looks at me with those big brown eyes that I fell so helplessly and hopelessly in love with. “Poor, poor, Connor — don’t
you get it?” she says evenly without a trace of remorse, “You’re just another toy.”
“A toy? Yeah, you seem real sorry,” I mumble.
It’s too much, just too fucking much.
Her eyes suddenly turn furious as she gets in my face. She’s vibrating with anger. “Don’t you dare, you of all people, don’t you fucking dare judge me!” she shouts, venom dripping from ever word as she glares at me through her tears.
She’s panting and continues to glare at me for a moment before stomping off.
I don’t believe her.
I don’t want to believe her.
I can’t.
I wipe my eyes and light another cigarette. My throat is constricting and my jaw is clenching, but I swear to God I’m not going to cry over her. Never fucking again.
And my long-time friend begins to rise, that boiling rage slides up from my stomach and feels so warm — and like the twisted roots of some evil forsaken tree, it wraps a blanket of hatred around my heart, sealing it away. I hope it lasts forever.
§§§§§
I’m still hanging out on the dock when I hear Carla. “What the hell did you do to Tonya?” she asks with that grating tone I’ve come to detest.
“Nothing.” I’m just containing the emotion now, holding it back so it’s ready to unleash come show time.
“You are a piece of shit.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“What, ripping Shauna’s heart out wasn’t enough for you? Now you need to hurt Tonya too? What’s your fucking problem?”
What is my problem?
Faith?
Hope?
Love?
No, not anymore.
I don’t have any fucking problems — not now.
I hear the first band go on, but it’s not who I thought it was. I recognize the song. It’s The Palm Sundaes, a tough punk band from Dallas. And that means there’s probably a mosh pit.
“Carla, I’d love to sit here and let you go off on me, but I have better things to do,” I say and walk back inside, sidestepping her.
“Better than hurting your friends?” she shouts after me.
Tonya says she’s not my friend and never was. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s the truth she wants me to believe — so what’s the difference?
