by Tara Ahmed
“Did you miss me?” I asked, ruffling the top of his hair.
“You bet I did. We all did. Dory, it’s been over two years since you’ve been back. I’d say, you’re the one who didn’t miss us—”
“Well, you can’t miss the ones that’ll never leave,” I smiled. “And I know you’ll always be with me. And, can you put me down? People are staring.”
His puffy cheeks flushed pink, as he placed me down. Clearing his throat dramatically, he shot me another grin, before taking my luggage.
I placed my hand over his on the handle of the luggage, giving my head a slight shake.
“That’s alright,” I told him. “I’m a big girl now. I can put the luggage in the car myself. But wait, how did you know I was going to be here? I hadn’t told anyone I was coming—”
Uncle Jeffrey pulled his hand away, scooping the luggage a foot above the air, and turned, heading down the half empty street. The sun cast a bright glow over the sandy pavement, as people walked towards the rows of parked cars, mostly trucks and large SUV’s.
I frowned, jogging up to his fast stride, as he made his way to his old, navy blue pickup truck.
“You ain’t a big girl, unless you lose all your teeth,” he informed, shooting me a sideways grin. “And what in the world has gotten into you girl? The big city done mashed up your brains?”
When we reached his car, he placed my luggage carefully at the corner edge of the car, walking towards the driver’s side. I stood there, my brows furrowed, as I watched him enter the car.
Maybe it was the long flight that had slowed my mind, because I had not a clue what Uncle Jeffrey meant.
“You gettin’ in, June bug?” He popped his head out of the car, staring expectantly at me.
“Um…yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “I think I’m just fatigued from the flight.”
There was a slow pounding in my heart that rose higher as I neared the passenger seat of the car. My throat suddenly felt dry, my thirst quenching, as I took careful steps towards the door. On the back seat of the car, I stared through the closed, tinted windows, squinting, as if trying to spot a thief.
“Come on, we ain’t got all day!” Uncle Jeffrey’s voice was light, almost musical, as I gripped the handle of the passenger side door, holding a breath, and thrusting it open.
It was empty.
I smiled, exhaling a deep breath of relief, before stepping inside, and closing the door.
Oh, thank goodness!
“Why, hello there, June Bug.” The deep, familiar voice drifted from behind, as though rising from the clouds, as I turned, gaping in horror, at Richard.
He sat at the back seat, his long legs spread apart, as he leaned against the soft brown leather as though my uncle’s car were his living room.
“You?” I accused. “What the—”
“Surprise!” said Uncle Jeffrey.
I snapped my head from my uncle, to Richard, and then back to my uncle, my head beginning to throb.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. “What are you doing here?”
Richard pouted in a childish way, giving my uncle a sad look, as though teasing me. I glared at him, hoping my eyes could somehow shoot venom from my pupils to his face, murdering him on the spot.
“Don’t you yell at my nephew in law,” Uncle Jeffrey scolded. “He told me you two had a soft of dispute, and you weren’t allowing him to participate in this year’s carnival, and I just couldn’t have that—“
“What? Nephew in law?” I snapped. “Wait, what? I’m seriously extremely confused! When did he tell you this? And--”
“Oh, don’t be so lost…June bug,” said Richard. “Remember you gave me all your relatives’ phone numbers…for emergency, of course. Don’t you remember?”
A mischievous glint cloaked over his eyes, as Uncle Jeffrey started the car, driving down the parking lot, heading towards the highway.
My eyes drifted to the ceiling of the car, as I tried to remember what he was referring to. Richard had somehow managed to get my relatives’ numbers, but the question was, how?
Come on, Dory…think…think!
The light bulb hovering over my mind, flashed, as I turned my eyes back to Richard, not believing that he’d do such a disgusting thing.
He had gone through my phone!
My head sped a marathon, as I recalled forgetting my purse in Richard’s apartment that awful day that he’d confessed his undying creepiness towards me.
I shivered.
Though I knew Richard was a treacherous slime ball, I didn’t think he’d actually go through my phone, calling my folks back home, and telling them we’d make it to the carnival. But, that meant that he’d been planning this trip for the longest time, which meant that James had told him about Aunt Molly and the carnival.
But…he’d taken a huge risk. I mean, what if James said that he changed his mind and wanted to go to the carnival? Because if James decided to go, that meant that Richard couldn’t go, and…
It felt as though a piano had fallen from the sky to my skull, as I leaned back against the car, groaning.
“Something wrong, June bug?” Richard asked.
“Don’t call me that!” I snapped. “If you don’t shut up, I swear, I’ll throw you out of this truck and you’ll get eaten by a swarm of snakes!”
“That really hurts,” he said, frowning.
I scoffed. “Stop pretending! You’re a total psychopath! I have no idea what you plan to do here, but I suggest you leave! Uncle Jeffrey, please stop this car—”
“Dorothy Rufula Web Bellevue.” Uncle Jeffrey’s voice took on a low tone, as he stared crossly at me. “Now, I don’t know what you two kids are fighting about, but if you keep yelling at the poor guy like this, it’s only going to make things worse! Now, he came all the way here to meet us. That means he cares for you, and he cares for us! Isn’t that right, James?”
James?
I stared hopelessly at Uncle Jeffrey. “But he’s not—”
Richard shook his head, as though warning me not to continue what I was about to say. Glaring at him, I decided that for once, he was right. But when a sly smirk spread across his lips, I scowled at him.
“What’s so funny?” I questioned.
“Nothing,” he replied. “Just that I love your middle name…Rufula…it has a nice ring to it—“
“Leave my middle name alone,” I snapped.
He shrugged. “Whatever you say…Rufula.”
I groaned, biting my tongue, for my anger towards his silliness wasn’t worth it. Why should I get worked up by his immature jokes? That infuriating jerk.
Chewing the bottom edge of my lip, I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing that I had no other option than to wait until we got home to figure out what the next move should be. I mean, if I suddenly declared that the person in the back seat was James’s twin, it would create a huge problem, resulting in Uncle Jeffrey beating the crap out of Richard for lying to him, which would then result in Uncle Jeffrey getting sued for all he was worth. Which wasn’t much, to be frank.
Knowing Richard, he wouldn’t let anyone hit him without facing the consequences.
The sounds of an acoustic guitar strummed through the radio, as Uncle Jeffrey sang along the lyrics to the country song, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel.
“You’ve got great taste in music,” said Richard, staring at my uncle with a pleasant smile across his lips. “I love Grant Philips songs. He really sings from the soul, doesn’t he?”
I scoffed, my eyes rolling at Richard’s lie- my hands clenching and unclenching over my lap. I squeezed the fabric of my skirt in such a way, that when I released my hold, the soft material crinkled like a crushed leaf over my thighs.
“Really?” I challenged, glaring at him through my side view mirror. “Then name me your five favorite songs from his album. Oh, and it has to be the 2007 album, not the latest one.”
Richard placed a hand against his neck, raising both brows, as tho
ugh surprised. I stared coldly at him, as he dropped his gaze to his lap. I smiled, happy that he looked confused, and ultimately, humiliated before my uncle.
“Don’t give the boy a hard time,” Uncle Jeffrey scolded. “He probably doesn’t listen to old folk’s music. James, here, was only being nice—“
“Desert Sky, Never Leave Me, Hold My Scar, Kiss Me Now, Today I’m Yours.” Richard’s voice pierced through the small space of the truck, as I turned, snapping my head to his.
Uncle Jeffrey’s thin lips spread to a wide grin, as he slapped a hand against the steering wheel.
“Damn, our taste matches like a glove and ball!” roared Uncle Jeffrey. “I thought you young folk didn’t listen to music from the older generation. But boy, you sure did surprise me, and few people ever do.”
I stared hopelessly at Uncle Jeffrey, before shooting an angry glare towards Richard, who simply shook his shoulders.
That scam artist!
“I’m glad,” said Richard. “By the way, do you mind if I call you ‘uncle’?”
My eyes widened.
“Yes, he does mind!” I snapped.
Uncle Jeffrey shot me an annoyed stare, shaking his head as though I were a bratty child.
“Don’t answer for me, Dory,” he said. “And James, you never had to ask.”
Ugh!
My teeth clenched, as I turned to my side, staring out the window, as the wind rushed through my open locks.
For that moment, I focused on the rural neighborhoods, watching the cows walking freely along the bright green grass. When the truck neared the sign, “Welcome to Sandsville”, my heart leapt, as I thought of what a mess I’d been dragged into by Richard’s conniving lie.
Compared to New York, Sandsville was something out of a black and white film, for everything in that town was a flashback of the 1950’s. The roads were narrow, and the houses were aligned in a straight row down the street, colored in pastel shades. Most every lawn was neatly trimmed, with outlandish bushes shaped as animals placed before white picket fences. A young boy drove by in a shiny, metallic blue bicycle, giving me a small smile, as he threw the afternoon paper to the steps of the nearest home. Through the open windows, I noticed women with multicolored rollers in their hair- gossiping on large cordless phones, pacing their living room. Teens dressed in outdated designer rags, sat on the front steps of their home, talking hurriedly amongst each other, as though fearing that outsiders were listening in.
Everything looked just as I’d left it- drab, but nevertheless, warm.
“Well, it looks like we managed to get here with our heads still attached just fine,” Uncle Jeffrey joked.
I choked out a stiff laugh, feeling terribly apprehensive as the car neared the periwinkle house at the end of the road.
“You alright, June bug?” Uncle asked.
I swallowed a breath, running a hand through my locks, as the orange ends tangled through my fingers, struggling to slip past.
“Huh…oh…oh, I’m feeling great,” I lied. “I’m really…um…excited.”
I feared he could sense my lie, but thankfully he smiled back, focusing on the garage ahead.
While the truck drove into the cave of the open garage, I could feel the beats of my heart accelerate, as Richard’s lips hovered beside my ear.
“You’re going to fall for me, Dorothy,” he whispered. “In fact…you already have.”
Chapter Twenty One
Slowly, I closed my eyes, exhaling a deep breath, and counting down from ten to one. My hands clenched against the soft fabric on my lap- my chest heaving, as Richard’s minty breath blew into my neck.
“If you don’t back off,” I whispered, my teeth clenched. “I swear you’ll lose a very vital part of your body somewhere down south. Don’t test my patience.”
Though my eyes were tightly closed, I could feel his smirk extending from cheek to cheek, as a light chuckle escaped from his lips.
“Did you say somethin’?” Uncle Jeffrey asked.
I turned my head towards Uncle, who drove the car to the end of the dimly lit garage, before turning off the engine. My thumb held down a button by the door, rolling up the window- my gaze taking in the familiar garage. Apart from the walls, which were pressed with a fresh coat of cream paint, everything was as I’d left it two years ago.
“No,” I lied. “You’re hearing things.”
He laughed. “I think I’m getting old.”
I stuck out my tongue. “You think?”
He ruffled the top of my head, messing up my already frizzy hair, giving me a cheeky grin. I shot him a smile, as he got out the car, pushing the door closed. Richard followed his lead, exiting out, and swinging the door closed. While Uncle went to the back of the garage, closing the door, Richard approached my window, staring at me in that way of his. That way in which the light would catch the glimmer in his eyes, forcing them to seep into mine, causing me to look away.
But instead, I looked past him, leaning my head against the car seat, my seatbelt still attached over my chest. My bubble gum pink bike still rested against the wall of the garage, a rainbow tassel hanging off one end. When I got off the car, a blast of nostalgia hit me, and for a moment, just for a moment, I wanted to cry.
I missed home.
I missed my baseball bat that rested in a worn out wooden shelf at the front of the garage, on top of a stalk of books, all jumbled together, threatening to fall off the edge. The ceiling bulb illuminated the cement ground, as a life size poster of an astronaut hung against the other side of the wall, the bottom part pressed with duct tape.
“Are you getting out now, or next year?” asked Richard, leaning an elbow against the windows edge.
I sighed, lifting my eyes towards his, giving him a tired smile.
“Step back,” I said, glancing at the ground, then back at him.
He wiped a thump against the corner of his mouth, brushing away whatever was there, though I saw nothing. But then again, why was I staring at him wiping his mouth?
I shivered, diverting my gaze, as a gust of discomfort slinked through my spine.
He eyed me speculatively, as though trying to figure me out, his eyes roaming over my face, before stopping for a moment, on my lips.
“I’m not the kind of guy that steps back from things,” he whispered, leaning his head towards me.
I blinked at him, not quite registering what he meant. My mind was already in a haze, and his riddling words, only increased my headache.
“I don’t care what kind of guy you are.” There was a light tremor in my voice. “I just need to open the door, and unless you want this door to slam into your stomach, then I suggest you move back.”
His brows rose, as he finally stepped back, while I unlocked my seatbelt, throwing the door open. Facing my back to him, I pushed the door, hearing it snap closed.
Without turning, I stared at his reflection from the window, watching as he looked back at me, as though waiting for my next move.
The feeling of ‘what next’ lulled into my mind, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to do.
From the corner of my eyes, I watched Uncle Jeffrey approach us, his red jerry curled locks swaying over his shoulder. My gaze followed the long strides of his steps, as my mind calculated all the things that I would tell him once he stood before me. In three seconds, I would turn to my Uncle, admitting that the man that stood in his garage, was an imposter, and that the real James was back in New York, in the arms of another. I would tell him that I married for the greater good, but not out of happiness, nor love. I would cry, and shout, and scream in the hollow cave of the garage, that my entire marriage was a sham, that it was all a lie.
But when Uncle did approach, my throat went dry, and as I turned towards him, I could only smile weakly.
Richard’s golden eyed gaze bore through me, but I ignored him, focusing only on Uncle.
This is it, Dorothy. Tell him. Tell him that your marriage is nothing but a joke, and y
ou only came back to Ohio, because New York had only given you a brick load of pain.
“You alright, June Bug?” Uncle asked. “You’re looking awful sick.”
My mouth opened, and out came a thousand words, screaming out the truth. But alas, the words were soundless, drifting out only through my eyes, which I could feel Uncle reading, but not quite understanding.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “I just…I…I think I’m a bit car sick. And…I have something I wanna ask you.”
Richard eyed me suspiciously, crossing his arms over his pale blue t-shirt.
“Well go on,” said Uncle. “Ask me anything.”
I glanced once more at Richard, who looked taken back, almost afraid. As I turned towards Uncle Jeffrey, taking a gentle step towards him, placing a hand against my neck, I noticed that he too, looked worried.
“Is Aunt Molly inside the house?” I asked. “Or…I mean…will she be coming tonight? I’ve got something to say to her. Just…girl stuff.”
Uncle Jeffrey’s marble blue eyes- narrowed, before slowly turning to Richard, staring suspiciously at him.
I ran a hand through the string of my locks, licking my bottom lip, and swallowing a breath. I didn’t like the way he was looking at Richard, as if blaming him for my apprehension. If anyone needed to be blamed, it was James.
James.
I shook my head, erasing the image of him from my mind, before snapping a finger towards Uncle’s face. He shook, turning his head towards me, giving me a stiff smile.
“Stop over thinking,” I told Uncle. “Honestly, I feel kind of car sick, that’s all. And I really do need to talk to Aunt Molly about something. It’s gross girl stuff, and trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“You’re lying to me,” said Uncle Jeffrey. “I might not have a fancy college degree, but I’m smart enough to know when my little girl is lying—“
“Look at me,” I said. “Seriously…is this the face of a liar?”
I smiled playfully at him, crossing the fingers of my left hand over my back, hoping he’d fall for it.
“If something, anything was wrong, I swear I’d tell you,” I said, placing a hand on his arm. “Believe me! Now, you can head inside first. I just want to mentally prepare um…James…before he meets the family. He’s really nervous. Look, he hasn’t said a word for the longest time. He’s totally freaking out. Isn’t that right, James?”
