Leaving Serenity

by Alle Wells

  My eyes sent daggers through my friend. “Yeah, I see. Now, you’re on their side. You’ve moved right up there with all the other rapists and hillbillies in this sorry town.”

  Jack pulled me closer. “Whoa, don’t sweat it, Babe. Who needs the hassle? Whatta ya say we split this joint? We’ll go somewhere and hash it out. Whatta ya say?”

  I looked at Jack, the man I loved, the only friend I had left, and said, “Sure.”

  Andy threw my handbag and a fifty dollar bill on the counter. I snatched the money and my bag and followed Jack to the door.

  Jack waved on his way out. “Take it easy, Andy, my man!”

  “See ya, Jack. Sorry, Annette. See ya around?”

  My fiery eyes pierced him. “Not if I see you first!”

  I bolted out the door, repeating what I’d heard Jack say the first day I met him.

  “I’m so mad I could spit nails!”

  Jack pulled me into a warm embrace with one hand and revealed a joint in the other.

  “No sweat, Baby. I’ve got just the thing to fix that.”

  “Oh, Jack, I don’t need that. All I need is you.”

  Jack shrugged. “You snooze you lose, more for me. Hey, let’s take your ride. The van’s on the fritz.”

  “Sure. But call her Goldie; that way she’ll like you.”

  Jack jumped in the passenger seat. “Far out, Baby. Goldie’s a mean machine!”

  I felt better already as Jack and I spun out of the gravel parking lot. Later, sitting in a clover patch on the hillside, the weight of the clear blue sky fell on my shoulders. Smoking a joint in broad daylight made me feel paranoid. I was still fired up about getting fired and Andy’s attitude toward me. I hated Serenity where everybody’s tight. My parents’ meddling and the thought of starting school dragged me down. Most of all, I felt like I didn’t belong here, but I didn’t know where I belonged.

  Jack sucked contently on the last of the joint. He put the roach in his pocket and scooted up behind me. The warm sunlight in my face and the comfort of his strong arms calmed me.

  “You know, Annette. You and me could start a whole new life together in a brand new place.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where?”

  “My man, Ray, offered me a groovy setup down in Daytona.”

  “What kind of setup?”

  I listened to Jack as he stroked my hair. “He needs somebody to live at his motel and look after things. His other business keeps him away a lot.”

  “Wow, I’ve never been to Florida. Have you?”

  “Sure, Baby! Lots of times, and you’d like it down there. It’s like summertime all the time. No hassles, the easy life, see? Just imagine us taking it easy around the pool all day, soaking up the rays.”

  I looked over the hillside and thought about a place beyond Serenity’s horizon.

  “Yeah, that would be the life, all right.”

  Jack’s silky voice cooed in my ear. “Hey, Baby, let’s get married.”

  My heart leapt so far that I felt myself jump. “For real?”

  “Sure, I love you. Don’t you love me?”

  “Sure, you know I do.”

  “Well, whatta ya say?”

  Jack poked the tickle spot in my side. I wiggled and squealed. “I say yes, yes, yes!”

  He tipped my head at just the right angle and kissed me for the first time. It was the kiss I had waited for my whole life. I felt as if I was living a dream.

  Jack settled back on one elbow. “Yep, you and me, Babe, just like Sonny and Cher.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I guess we are like them. Cher was just a kid like me when she met Sonny.”

  Jack tugged at my braided hair. “Hey, you’re no kid. You’re my lady. Do you know what we should do? We should get married at South of the Border.”

  “In Mexico?’

  Jack cracked up. Hearing his belly laughs made me laugh, too.

  When we settled down, he said, “You poor baby, you really have been stuck in this hick town! South of the Border’s only a couple of hours from here. I can’t believe you’ve never been there!”

  I searched the horizon and shook my head. “Nope. Never been anywhere.”

  “From now on, Baby, the sky’s the limit. We may even make it all the way to California one day. But for right now, it’s South of the Border for us. The wedding chapels there have two lines and no waiting, just for us, Baby.”

  For a day that started so badly, it turned out to be the best day of my life. When I looked at him, I felt like I’d found where I belonged. “Mrs. Jack Harris. I like the sound of that.”

  I plucked the white flower balls that sprang up from the clover underneath me. “Jack?”

  “Yes, my pretty lady?”

  “Do you think I could change my first name, too?”

  He placed a kiss on my head. His breath brushed my fine hair. “Mrs. Jack Harris can do as she pleases. The world is your oyster, my dear, just open it and look inside.”

  He made me feel grownup, not like a little kid. With Jack, I could be the person I’d always wanted to be. I said, “Well…in that case, I want to be Nikky.”

  He sat back and flashed a smile. “Nikky, huh? Nikky Harris, far out! I like it!”

  Jack tapped on my glasses. “You know what else? We’re going to get you some groovy specs, too. No more cat eyes!”

  I blushed and agreed. “No more cat eyes!”

  He threw his hand out like he was painting our future. “It’ll be you and me, Babe, and the glimmer of taillights fading into the sunset.”

  The more he talked, the closer I came to having everything I’d always wanted, freedom from Serenity. I sat quietly, feeling the summer breeze blow through my hair. Jack watched the smoke from his cigarette drift through the air and broke the silence.

  “Only one problemo, Compadre.”

  “Problem?”

  Jack flicked the cigarette butt down the hill and leaned back in the clover. “The van’s busted, and I’m out of bread.”

  I stretched out next to him. The sun-soaked clover felt warm on my back as I mapped out my future across the sky. “Well, I have Goldie and a little over six hundred dollars.”

  Jack jumped to his feet. “Six hundred dollars? Well, what are we waiting for, Baby?”

  Jack reached his hand out to me. The sun blocked his features, creating a glow around him. In the silhouette, he looked like he had just stepped from the heavens. Jack lifted me off my feet and charged down the hill. “Vvroom! Vvroom! I can see those taillights fading now, my dear!”

  Jack let me down at the bottom of the hill, held me in a soft embrace, and placed a light kiss on my lips. I held on to him with all my might, hoping that he wasn’t a dream, and if he was, praying that I’ll never wake up.

  Jack turned the radio up a notch or two louder than I was used to. We bantered back and forth, ad-libbing “I Got You, Babe,” and laughing our way to the bank. He whistled and yelled cat calls out the car window as I walked through the glass doors of the bank. The big clock behind the counter said 12:45. I was restless in line, shifting from one foot, and then to the other.

  “May I help you?” someone called from the far end of the counter.

  My heart flew ahead of me as I rushed to the open teller window. I slipped my savings booklet underneath the iron bars.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’d like to close my account.”

  The big cheeked woman with bright orange hair eyed me through the bars.

  “You’re Pastor Zeke’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

  I avoided her stare and pretended to look for something in my bag. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “May I ask why you’re closing this account?”

  She caught me off guard. I wondered if she’d blow my plan by picking up the phone and calling my parents or Grandpa Zeke. I mustered up every ounce of courage in my puny little body and said, “Because it’s my money and I want it.”

  The teller’s eyes roved from side to side. “Very well, then.”

  S
he rolled a big red “Closed” stamp across the front of the booklet and handed it back to me. She counted the money out in hundreds. “There you go—twelve hundred dollars and forty-five cents.”

  I looked at the bills lying on the counter, but I was afraid to take them. “Twelve hundred? I thought it was only six hundred.”

  The woman gave me a smug look. Her big orange hair swayed back and forth when she talked. “Well, I happen to know that your daddy has been matching your deposits on this account, dollar for dollar.”

  “Oh, right, I forgot. Thank you.”

  I felt a pang of guilt as I slid the bills into my bag. Outside, Jack leaned on Goldie’s hood, smoking a cigarette. “Hey, Baby. I’ll just jet over to my sister’s place, grab my duds, and be ready to go. Whatta ya say we meet back here in thirty minutes?”

  Watching Jack beat the dust across the back alley, I realized that I didn’t even know where he lived. I worried that I may not be able to find him when I got back.

  I called out, “I can drive you there, if you want.”

  Jack sprinted away and yelled back, “Thirty minutes. Be there or be square.”

  Three blocks down the street, I couldn’t believe my luck that no one was at home. I hopped out of the car and into my bedroom in a nanosecond. While searching for something to pack my clothes in, I realized that I didn’t own a suitcase. Eying Beth’s powder blue luggage in the closet, I hesitated, and then jumped when the latches flew open. I stuffed the suitcase with tie-dyed tee-shirts, two bathing suits, and three pairs of jeans. I added a hairdryer, makeup, and hair products, and then snapped it shut.

  Snatching a nubby pencil and a piece of paper in my denim covered notebook, I scrawled across the page, Dear Beth, Leaving Serenity. Marrying Jack. Borrowing your suitcase. This money belongs to Daddy. Love, Annette.

  I took one last look around the room I had called prison and laid six hundred dollar bills on top of the note. When Goldie’s taillights sped away from Serenity that afternoon, I thought that my dreams had come true.

  Chapter 6

  Looking at the uneaten burger, I wonder what I ever liked about them. I guess that’s true of a lot of things we once loved.

  The woman at the counter calls out, “Can I get ye anythin’ else?”

  “No, thanks. How much?”

  “Oh, about three-fifty.”

  Pulling a five from my pocket, I ask, “Is Andy still around?”

  The old woman waved her hand. “Nah, he sold out after Rosie died. He bought a shrimpin’ boat down in Oriental. We ain’t seen him since. You a friend of his?”

  I nodded, handing her the five. “I used to be.”

  I hit the road again to my final destination one mile outside of town. I walk through the dirt paths, reading every name, wondering if I’ll find what I’m looking for. A small, nondescript headstone reads, Jack Daniel Harris.

  I never knew Jack’s sister, Nadine, but she knew how to find me. Ten years ago, she called to tell me that Jack had died from a heroin overdose. I had a flashback of Jack tying a rubber strap around the thickness of his upper arm and the bubble that formed under his skin when the needle missed the vein. If he hit it just right, his head would fall back on the bed before he had time to remove the needle. I’d pull it out for him and let him drift where he wanted to go.

  I plop down on the soft grass in front of the marker.

  “Hello, Jack. I’m still your lady. You’d like that. You wild and crazy guy.”

  The Honeymoon

  Even though I’d never driven on an Interstate highway, it was easy peasy. I realized why Jack thought it was so funny that I didn’t know where South of the Border was. Huge billboards advertised it every minute or two along I-95. It looked like a great place, just like being in Mexico. I was so excited that I could have sprung out of my seat. Jack was passed out in the passenger seat. Nothing could have made me sleep that day. My life finally belonged to me, and I didn’t want to miss one second of it.

  I memorized every South of the Border billboard and felt like I knew the short, fat Pedro in person. The billboards got closer together and funnier the closer we came to South Carolina.

  “Jack? I think we’re almost there. Pedro says only five miles to go!”

  The August sun bounced off Jack’s fluttering eyelids, but he didn’t budge. I still couldn’t believe that an ugly girl like me would be marrying such a gorgeous guy. My mind drifted back to every detail of my fast relationship with Jack until my traveling buddy, Pedro, told me that I had reached my destination. I pulled into the parking lot under the big yellow and orange sombrero.

  I shoved Jack’s shoulder. “Jack, we’re here.”

  Jack jolted awake and hid his eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Whoa, Baby. Here already? You should have woke me up. I wanted to catch a buzz before we got here.”

  I teased him with a slight tug. “Come on, why do we need that? We’re here!”

  Jack rolled his sleepy eyes at me. His tone reminded me of the character, Dr. Zachary Smith, on Lost in Space. “My dear, every special occasion calls for a little toke.”

  I looked around at the people milling around the parking lot. “Well, the parking lot is pretty full. Do you think it’s safe?”

  Jack threw me a wink. “I got it covered, Baby.”

  He reached into the glove box and hovered under the dashboard, placing the roach between the fingers of the clamp. He lit up and sucked the silvery line of smoke through his puckered lips. He held his breath and handed over the roach. I shook my head. There was no way I’d ruin this day stuck in la-la-land.

  Jack shrugged. “Suit yourself, Baby. You snooze you lose.”

  “Come on, Jack. Let’s go have some fun.”

  Jack put away the pipe and stash, He straightened his hair in the sun visor mirror, stepped out of the car, and yelled a perfect impression of Speedy Gonzales.

  “Andole, andole, arriba, arriba!”

  He bowed and held out a hand. “After you, my lovely muchacha!

  Jack’s crazy antics cracked me up, and I shivered every time he said that I was pretty. I was happier than I’d ever been when we walked across the sun baked asphalt toward the shops at South of the Border. Inside, the store was crowded with tons of merchandise that my parents would have called junk. We bought sterling silver wedding bands inlaid with turquoise stones, a big, floppy hippie hat for me, and some Jesus sandals for Jack.

  “Hey, Baby. Now, what about those specs?” Jack asked as we walked past a carousel of eyeglasses.

  I removed the cat-eye glasses. Jack placed a tiny pair of gold wire rims on my face and twirled me around to face the mirror.

  “Check it out, Babe!”

  I glanced in the mirror and then looked at the people milling around in the distance. Everything looked clear.

  “Cool.” I nodded and threw the cat-eyes in the big garbage can near the carousel.

  Jack leaned back to get a better look. “Groovy, Baby, groovy!”

  Jack pulled me into a loving embrace and kissed me embarrassingly and seductively in front of God and everybody. I pulled away, but he held me tight. “Let’s get married, my groovy lady.”

  Two seconds later, Goldie was headed toward a little wedding chapel in Dillon, South Carolina. A large woman wearing a red muumuu with big yellow flowers greeted us in the doorway of the dingy, one-room affair. She held out a faded bridal bouquet. I waved my hand and declined the white plastic flowers that didn’t go with my bellbottomed jeans and tie-dyed tee-shirt. A bald man rose from a chair in the corner. He explained that his wife, Rosa, would be our witness and my attendant. I caught a whiff of her Avon Topaz cologne as she stood next to me holding the bouquet. My eye landed on the yellowing, plastic lilies. The man stood in front of us and read from a little black book. Jack nudged my shoulder with his elbow, and I quickly muttered, “I will.”

  Jack’s voice sounded reverent and solemn as he swore, “I do.”

  I paid the couple ten dollars for the ceremony and thi
rty dollars for a room in the white cement block building next to the wedding chapel. Jack insisted on carrying me across the threshold. We bumped into the bed, and Jack tumbled down on it. I pulled back the vinyl drapes, feeling his eyes on me. I battled the claustrophobic feeling that crept up on me every time the memory of homecoming night slipped in.

  Jack rolled over and stared at me. “We did it, Baby! You are now Mrs. Jack Daniel Harris.”

  “Yeah, it’s a little scary, right?”

  “Come ’ere, Babe.” Jack called to me with a slight jerk of his head.

  His smooth voice sent a tinkle up my spine as I reluctantly took the two steps to the bed. He pulled me on top of him and planted a soft kiss on my lips.

  “You’re the boss, my lady. When it comes to this, you say when, where, and how.”

  ***

  We picked up tacos for dinner. Jack ate his in one bite and threw the wrapper aside. He dug into his jeans’ pocket and pulled out a ball of tinfoil. He held the foil as gently as a gold nugget between his fingertips.

  “Hashish, my dear?”

  I took a bite from the taco and shook my head.

  “No, thanks. You go ahead.”

  Jack smoked the sweet smelling clay from a small glass pipe and then fell asleep. I ended my Mexican honeymoon watching The High Chapparal on TV. My thoughts bounced back and forth between the small motel room and Serenity. I thought about being in bed with Jack. The things I worried about the most turned out to be not so bad, like when Kizzie left and having sex with Jack. It was the things I didn’t worry about that got me in trouble, like losing my temper and shooting off my mouth. I thought about Andy at the Bluebird and wondered what my family was saying about me back in Serenity. I compared my brief, uneventful marriage ceremony to the elaborate wedding Mama had planned for Beth at Grandpa Zeke’s church. Either way, married was married. I lulled myself to sleep dreaming about Florida sunshine and Daytona Beach.

  I studied the map spread in front of me while Jack showered the next morning. I traced a straight line down I-95 with my finger. Jack stood in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist, brushing his teeth.