by Zoe Whittall
I could be the girl who bolts into the bathroom and throws up from the shock and sorrow. Then she gets in her car and goes and cries on her largely unsympathetic sister’s shoulder. Or I could be the girl who suggests getting a room at the Motel 6 across the road. Because the relatively dangerous man across from her makes her feel like a lit match. I could be that girl, the girl I’ve always been in awe of in movies. In the moment and unafraid.
CHAPTER NINE
As we lay back against bleached white sheets, breathing in the odor of sickening strawberry deodorant and smoke-soaked carpeting, it occurred to me that maybe my husband had a point. I laughed out loud when I thought this. The cackle of my laughter jarred Red, who’d been lying next to me, staring at the ceiling. Maybe there is something to having sex with someone you haven’t known since you were a Clearasil-smeared prom date.
The cliché is true—that the line between humor and tragedy is so thin sometimes.
“What’s so funny?” Roger asked, smiling sideways at me.
“Nothing,” I said.
“What?”
“You know, I’ve never done that before.”
“Oh, c’mon, you’ve definitely done that before.”
“No, jerk. I mean, I’ve only ever had sex with my husband. I was a virgin before him.”
“Really?”
“We got married so young.”
“Huh.”
“I bet you’ve had tons of ladies.”
Red smiled and shrugged. “Well, more than one.”
We lit cigarettes like we were in some 1970s movie. Lying side by side, staring at the ceiling.
“So, you want to come with me to the city?” he asked. “New York City, imagine that.”
I snuggled up to him, laid my head on his chest. “I just might. How is it you can leave your kid like that?”
“She’s with my mother this week. They think I’m off working for the week, but the truth is I got fired.”
“Why’d you get fired?”
“Long story.” I felt a twinge in my gut about him lying to his mother. Then I thought, Well, who doesn’t lie to his mother on occasion? My mother certainly didn’t know everything about me.
“Well, I’ve clearly got all the time I need to hear it.”
“One of my managers was out to get me. I was late a few times. Enough said.”
“How come you didn’t tell your mom?”
“She thinks I can’t do anything right. It kills me that, since all this bad shit went down, she has to help out. I need her and I never wanted to need her again. I don’t want Trisha around her, but I have no other choice. It’s not like I can afford day care.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Run away with a beautiful girl, maybe? Figure something out in the city? My brother’s got a good job. He can probably help me out.” Red looked at the ceiling when he said that, and closed his eyes.
“In the meantime, let’s just stay here for the night. We’ve already paid up after all. Let’s have some fun, relax, pretend we’re teenagers!”
“Sounds like a good idea…”
“I’ll go get some ice,” I said, “for the beer.”
Red got up and went to the bathroom. I pocketed my driver’s license and twenty bucks, and purposely left my purse on the bed. The red leather clutch open invitingly. I took a long time getting the ice. I stopped at the convenience store across the street to get a bottle of vodka, some soda water and a few bags of chips. I stared so long at the gum, the cashier started to look uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal anything!” I said, my voice going up in pitch with each word. “I’m just feeling indecisive.”
The cashier looked unimpressed. I put two strips of grape licorice on the counter with my drinks and snacks. I had the purchasing habits of a teenager, but I didn’t care. After all, I never really got to finish being a teenager.
I walked slowly down the hotel hallway, hands creased with the red circles from the imprint of the plastic bags. I was half expecting Red might have vanished with my purse and car. My instincts felt right— that I could generally trust him. But still, he had held a gun to my throat a mere twenty-four hours ago. I might be having a little circumstantial nervous breakdown, but I could still be cautious.
He was lying on the bed, shirtless, watching TV.
“I can’t believe how cool Gene Simmons used to be and what he’s become now.”
Gene was toddling around a mansion on the screen. My purse was in the same position I left it.
I handed him a whip of licorice. He looked at it oddly, before popping it in his mouth. “You eat like you’re eight.”
“No more whole grains for me. I’m all about the flavor!” I had no idea what I was talking about. Red grinned.
I decided to take a shower. While the water poured into the empty stall, I sat on the counter beside the sink and called Jackie. I left a message. I’d gone out of town to think, I said. Not to worry. I’d be back soon enough. I asked her to feed Simon or remind Dale to. To stop by the house and make sure Lydia wasn’t over. Generally make Dale crazy. I asked her not to call unless it was an emergency. I tried to sound mysterious, like I was on some sort of mission.
When I emerged from the steam, I walked back into the hotel room where Red was now sleeping to the sounds of MTV’s Countdown. It was five o’clock. Dale would be getting up for work about now. His last text read, I love you so much. I always will. Don’t doubt that.
It was midnight when Red got out of bed. Our bodies had been getting acquainted for nearly twelve hours. He opened the sliding glass door and stood on the balcony, smoking. When he came back into the room, he looked energized, hyper.
“Let’s go now! I love driving at night! There’s a full moon too.” He jumped onto the bed, on his knees.
“Are you drunk? Are you sure you can drive?”
“No, I had my last drink hours ago.”
I noticed his half-full beer still on the nightstand.
“Are you sure? I paid for the whole night already.” He seemed to almost bristle at the mention that I’d paid for the room. This should have been a warning.
“But we can be on the ROAD! We can start the adventure now.” He was like a kid talking about taking a unicorn ride to Mars Bar Mountain. It was infectious. When was the last time I’d been on the road at night, or ever really? The air outside was still warm, a perfect summer breeze. I felt like an outlaw. It would be fitting to travel at night. After all, we’d spent the whole day inside.
“You trust me, right?” he said, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray.
“I suppose I’m starting to.”
“I promise, I’ll give you every reason to. The way we met, it will be the only mistake I ever make with you. I’m a good man, Missy. I promise you I am.”
His eyes were wide-open, and I felt like I had the keys to a new world. I was happy to explore it. Cautious living had only got me so far. Time to try a new tactic.
CHAPTER TEN
We stood next to our two cars in the parking lot.
“Which one should we take?” I asked.
“Mine’s pretty good on gas.”
For some reason, it felt like a good idea to be in my own car. Safe. If this were a movie, we’d have jumped into some shiny convertible and been off without another thought. In real life, there were details.
“I don’t know. Mine is roomier. And we can always come back and get your car later. You can park it in the restaurant’s parking lot. Sam will make sure it doesn’t get towed.”
“Sam’s probably not still on shift.”
“I’ll call her.”
He started pushing buttons on his phone, mind already made up.
“Do you live around here or something? How do you know this place so well?”
“Yeah, my place is just a few miles east, on Concession Road 8. I used to work in the gas station as a teenager. Sam’s a friend of the family.”
We
drove the cars across the street.
I parked in a spot marked Employees Only. Red went into the gas station and emerged with a sign to put on the dashboard of my car. And a box of donuts.
For the first two hours we talked nonstop. About our adolescence. Who we wanted to be as adults. Faces smeared with jelly filling.
“I suppose that when I met Andrea, I thought our life was just beginning. It was total happiness for four straight years. I came home from work excited. It was like I was going to meet my favorite celebrity every single night. That’s how excited she made me.”
It’s funny, but at that moment I almost felt jealous of a dead woman. Still, I could relate. I used to feel that way about Dale. I tried to push Dale out of my mind. I looked out the window at the rows of cornfields. The full moon lighting up the sky. Red drove just a little over the speed limit, but very safely. For some reason I’d pegged him as an erratic speeder. I normally don’t relax when other people drive. Jackie says it’s because I’m controlling.
“Some days I still wake up calling for her.”
What if I’d walked into the kitchen yesterday and found Dale dead instead of cheating? I couldn’t even imagine how that would feel.
And that’s what happened to Red. He walked in and found his beloved shot. She was slumped over the kitchen table where she’d been eating her breakfast. Shot by her ex-husband. But Red didn’t know that at first. She was just shot.
It was a terrible story. Her ex had just been released from prison. He’d spent thirteen years inside for beating her up. She had been pregnant at the time. A neighbor had heard her screams and called 9-1-1. Her ex then assaulted one of the cops with a baseball bat. He went away for fifteen years.
Unfortunately when he was paroled, no one warned his ex-wife. She’d moved many times and had taken Red’s last name. As a result the authorities couldn’t find her. But he could.
Red had been at work at the time of the shooting. He drove combine for a farmer a few miles outside of town and was working alone. There was no one to confirm his story. The investigating officers maintained that he had enough time to do the shooting and return to work.
When he got home and found his wife dead, Red collapsed over her body, sobbing.
Moments later his twelve-year-old stepson arrived home from school. He walked into the kitchen and saw them both covered in blood. Panicked, he ran to the neighbor’s house. The housewife, who babysat his little sister, still only a toddler, called the cops.
When the cops arrived, no matter how many times he said, “I found her, I found her,” they were skeptical. Who else would want to kill her? The fact that his son wouldn’t speak—couldn’t speak for weeks— didn’t help anything.
For lack of any other suspects—and a string of earlier assault charges for bar fights, the cops charged Red. He didn’t have money for a good lawyer. He lost his job and all his savings in legal fees. He spent four months in jail. They’d had no life insurance. For four agonizing months, his kids went to his mom. When the police finally figured out who the real killer was, Red was broke…and broken.
“Jail hardened me,” he said as we drove through the night. “Even though it was only four months. I feel like the old me, he’s just not around anymore. I miss being him. And it really feels like everyone is always out to get me. I can’t catch a break.”
“Maybe your luck is changing.” I smiled.
I took his right hand off the wheel and placed it on my breast. He smiled.
Just before dawn I drifted to sleep in the front seat. Red’s hand on my leg, smiling at each other like we’d been together for years. There was something so comforting in his face and the way he touched me. The way he looked more interested in me than Dale ever had been.
I woke up when the car stopped in front of some gas pumps. There was a pink band of light on the horizon.
“Are we out of gas?” I asked, like an idiot. I stretched my arms and unclipped my seatbelt.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll get this one,” I said, pulling out my wallet. I didn’t want him to feel bad about not having money.
“Missy, it’s okay. The money I stole went to buy my daughter her asthma medication. I’ve got enough for gas, right?”
I knew it wasn’t true. I’d looked in his wallet when he was in the shower. Ten bucks and a thirty-days-sober chip from AA.
“Please, Roger. Let me pay this time. I have some money saved up.”
Roger looked down, before opening the car door.
“Whatever,” he said gruffly.
I got out of the car and walked around to where he was starting to fill up. I handed him forty dollars. I held his free hand in mine and kissed him on the mouth. He was still tense but seemed to relax a little.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I announced, hoping to get the imprint of the seatbelt off my face.
“Okay.” He shrugged. His eyes had a faraway look.
Standing at the long row of sinks, I pressed some concealer under my eyes. I turned on my cell phone. A text from Jackie: Where the hell are you? Dale and I are worried sick. When was the last night I stayed out until dawn? Probably grade ten.
I wondered if eventually I could make up a story about how I met Red. How I took an impromptu trip to the city and met him at a restaurant. How we’d eaten at the counter next to each other. It was love at first sight. No one would have to know.
I looked in the mirror and turned around, looking at myself from a few different angles. I was suddenly dizzy at the memory of our last kiss. It made me breathless just thinking about it. I actually had butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t stop grinning at myself in the mirror, smoothing out my lips with a sparkled gloss.
I pushed open the door and walked into the food court. There was a small crowd of early morning commuters, truckers, long-distance travelers. All seemed to be drinking absurdly large cups of coffee.
As I walked, I felt like the world was my own catwalk. I was actually strutting. In a service station, wearing a slept-in dress, no less. But it didn’t matter. This was me now, a traveler, an adventuress, newly in love.
I stopped at a display of gumball and toy machines that lined the hall between the bathrooms and the fast-food counters. Each machine had different toys or candy to choose from, housed in clear plastic eggs. I picked out a small dog figurine meant for a car dashboard. Its head bobbed up and down. It could be Red’s good-luck dog, I reasoned. I chose the pit bull. The cold plastic globe felt good in my hands.
And that was the last good feeling I had that day.
I felt it first. A sudden quiet, the shuffling of shoes on the concrete floor, nervous movement. I walked toward the food court, peering around the corner at the Wendy’s counter. Red had his back to me. From the expression on the young cashier’s face, I knew what he was doing. I ducked down behind a garbage can, leveled by shock.
I pulled out my phone, dialing 9-1-1. The trouble was I didn’t really know where we were. I whispered vague possibilities, hoping someone who’d made it outside had also called.
“Stop running or I will shoot! Get down on the ground, everyone!” Roger’s voice was different now, more forceful. No more niceties like at Callie’s. When he said he would shoot, this time I believed him. But he still hadn’t seen me. Does he think I’m just waiting in the car for him like an idiot? If I stood up, I’d be an accomplice. If I stood up, he could shoot me. Who was this man I’d just spent the better part of two days with? The one I was fantasizing about marrying? Did losing everything in one fell swoop mean I’d also lost my mind? Any semblance of intelligence and character?
I was only a few feet from the door. I thought about making a run for it. Then a middle-aged man beat me to it, and Roger actually shot at him. The bullet hit the glass door. It shattered. He missed the man, who kept running. People on the floor were whimpering. The cashier was sobbing.
Roger himself looked quite shocked at what he’d done.
“Please, mister, just take the money
from the till.”
“I want all of it. Everything from the safe.”
“I don’t know the code! Only the manager does! He’s not here.”
“Bullshit!”
“Seriously, I would give it to you if I could. You think I want to die for this stupid job? I don’t care! I’d rather live!”
“I will shoot you, girl, I swear.”
“I will call him. Let me call him.”
That’s when I stood up. Mostly because at that moment I felt a responsibility for our being there. I felt like if that girl got shot, it would be partially on me.
“Roger, put the gun down.”
He turned to me. “Shut up. Get to the car, keep it running.”
“Look at her, she’s just a girl. She’s just a little older than Trisha.”
“Shut up, Missy. I mean it.”
He didn’t look flustered or shaken like he did at Callie’s. He was not some kid making a mistake. Right then, he looked like he’d done this kind of thing a million times. He looked like he thought he deserved that money.
“What about our plan? Getting to the city? Your brother helping us out? Why do you need to do this?”
“Shut up, Missy. I mean it.”
“Just take what you have and go. Leave me here.”
He seemed to be considering it. Sweat dripped onto his forehead. The girl behind the counter looked at me, pleading.
“I’m not leaving without you,” he said, in a way that sounded like he’d stuff me in a paper sac if he had to.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, you fucking liar.”
Incredibly, Roger had the balls to look hurt by what I said.
“Sweetheart,” I said to the cashier, “just get down on the floor, okay? He’s not going to hurt you.”
Roger looked at me. “I’m in charge here, Missy, not you!”
“You don’t want to hurt her. Remember, you’re a good man. Remember saying that? She’s just a young girl. Take the gun off of her.”
He backed up and put the gun down slightly, before turning and aiming it at me.
