So…
Chris has sent me copies of this story so often for so long that I forget which version is which. So, last week when I posted “No Strings Attached” I kinda, sorta, used the wrong version.
Oops.
To make up for it, here is the correct version of the story.
Side note: This affords you the opportunity to compare and contrast the two versions of this story. I expect at least 3 pages on my desk by Monday.
“No Strings Attached”
by Christopher A. Helton
Thunder rumbled in the distance as the storm brewed on the darkening horizon. Gusts of wind blew dry leaves across the barren road. The smell of moisture in the air hung in my nostrils like cheap after shave. The surrounding grasslands looked unnaturally green in the weakening sunlight. The city was still a good ten miles away. I would need to find shelter soon, but I’d never had much luck with hitchhiking.
Shoving my hands in the pockets of my faded blue jeans, I quickened my pace. Gravel crunched under heavy boots while my hair blew in my face. All I could do was keep walking and try to find shelter once I got to the city.
Cars constantly sped by and it got to the point where I didn’t even notice as they passed. I didn’t blame them. I wouldn’t even pick myself up, looking the way I did, like a bum who slept on a park bench with more than a day’s worth of stubble darkening my face.
I used to care about my looks. There was a time, not so long ago when I cared about many things, but that part of me was now buried deep in a soul poisoned with cynicism and bitterness. I’d once thought that what I did could make a difference, but over time I was hit by the realization it didn’t matter what I did; I was merely a cog in a system where conformity is the rule. To go against the system is to go against human nature. People have been programmed to accept this is a fact of life.
Society was becoming a cesspool of pop culture garbage ruled by the likes of Microsoft, Coke, Disney, and by a well oiled political machine run by those whose only interest was staying in power. I used to have faith in the system, faith in this country. Faith in myself.
The road to becoming a cynic is long and bumpy, but once it’s run its course, there is no turning back. There is no such thing as a reformed cynic. Just ask Ambrose Bierce, old gringo himself.
I had turned my back to everyone I cared for, opting for the life of a lonely drifter. Behind my hard looks and cold blue eyes were the remnants a conscience that was balled up in a far corner of my mind, making it easier to live with myself without being bothered with the shame and guilt of what I’d left behind. Every now and then it would come out of hibernation to painfully remind him of what I’d done, but it could be drowned out easily with enough tequila and cheap beer.
To say my life didn’t have direction would be an understatement. I was in uncharted seas without a compass. I was moving through life like a piece of driftwood in choppy waters, seemingly on the universal quest of searching for purpose in life. I once believed there was a reason for everything, that life really did have a purpose. Now all I saw were people being led through life like sheep, becoming increasingly passive, being told how to live their lives; that it was normal to work at some monotonous job for 30 years, get a shitty pension, and then die of either heart disease or cancer before you can enjoy it. That was never going to be my life. I would make damn sure of that.
But there was something else about me. Something I didn’t have control over. There was a darkness that lived under the surface of my soul that no one knew about. A darkness that even I had come to fear.
Lightning struck, much closer this time in a nearby cornfield. In a matter of seconds I smelled nature’s version of instant pop corn, burnt though it was it only reminded me of the hunger burning in my belly. The rain started soon after. Not the warm, gentle summer showers, but heavy, cold rain drops that felt as if I were being pelted by a BB gun. It didn’t take long for me to be soaked head to toe, with the rain showing no sign of letting up.
I pulled the denim jacket tighter, the coldness seeping into my bones. I didn’t even hear the approaching car slow down behind me until I turned to see a blue Chevy Impala pull up parallel to me.
My eyes narrowed instinctively before I realized this was a chance to get my weary body out of the rain. I approached the rust tinged car cautiously and peered into the passenger window, catching a glimpse of my rugged, wet reflection.
The window hummed down and I found myself staring into the rosy face of a blonde haired beauty with round blue eyes, smiling cheerfully. Standing in the rain, I found comfort in those eyes.
“Where ya headed?” she asked while smacking on bubble gum. Sitting there in her cutoff shorts and tight fitting tank top, she looked at the most, 18 years old.
The moment my eyes wandered down her perky breasts and smooth thighs I should have used my better judgement and walked away. But one of the advantages of not having an active conscience was being able to ignore the warning bells going off in my head.
I smiled politely back at her. “To the city. Actually, the first phone I come to will be just fine.”
A bolt of lightning struck nearby, the thunder cracking loudly less than a second later. Heavier rain drops began pelting the car.
Her eyes never left mine. “You wanna ride?” Her accent was unmistakably East Texan. “It’s getting’ pretty nasty out there.”
I looked up at the sky, the raindrops feeling like tiny needles striking my face. “What the hell, why not.” I wiped rain off my face before opening the passenger door. I hesitated before sitting down.
“Don’t worry about the seat. It’ll dry up later.” She looked me over with prying eyes. “You a cowboy?”
I shook my head as I settled in the seat. The inside of the car smelled of cigarettes mixed with a strong perfume; something cheap like you could buy at a Wal-Mart. “No, I’m not a cowboy.”
She continued to study my face for a few seconds, making sure she’d made a wise decision in picking up a hitchhiker. “Well, I don’t know what it is, but there’s something mysterious about you.”
I tried to avoid catching glances at the shorts that rode high on her legs and kept my eyes staring out the window as the rainfall increased.
She turned her head. “I’m Melissa Ray, but my friends call me Misty, in case you wuz wonderin’.”
I smiled politely as I tried to humor her. “I’m JD, and I don’t have any friends.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “Don’t be. It’s my choice.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely, not having anyone to talk to?”
I sighed. “Not really. Ninety percent of what people talk about is bullshit anyway, so I’m not missing out on much.”
She doesn’t catch the hint. “What happened to your car?”
“I sold it.”
“Oh.” My answer caught her off guard. “So where you from, JD?”
“Here and there.”
She giggled and toyed with her golden locks as if thinking about something. “You sure are secretive, aren’t you? Come on, tell me a little about yourself.” Her tone was playful, as if we were longtime friends.
“You always ask this many questions when you pick up hitchhikers?”
Her eyes locked on mine again. “You’re the first one I ever picked up.”
I turned towards her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Honest. I don’t know what came over me. I just saw you out here all alone and it just felt right.”
I grinned. “It just felt right, huh? Well, Misty, I’m grateful for your hospitality.”
“You seem to be real easy to talk to, you know that?” Her eyes again left the road to smile at me.
There was just something about those eyes that made her irresistible. Something mature and seductive. It had been awhile since a woman had looked at me with such intensity.
After several minutes of silence, she gave him a coy look. “So JD, you in a hurry?”
I shrugged, not knowing what she meant until she turned off the highway and continued for several miles on a farm road until they came to an empty church parking lot. She turned the car off and turned to me.
Without saying a word her hand went to my thigh as she moved in to kiss me with those full ruby lips. As we kissed for several seconds my body urged me to go for it, but something deep inside me stirred my usually dormant conscience to awaken abruptly.
“I…” I was losing himself in the moment.
She put a finger on my mouth. “Shhh….don’t say anything.”
As we continued to kiss I felt myself losing control while my hands moved over her the warm skin of her back. She smiled as her hands moved to unbutton my damp shirt. “We’ve got to get you out of these wet clothes.”
When I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, my conscience got a second wind and gave one last effort to stop the lust that was taking over my body.
Breathing heavily I asked, “How old are you, sweetheart?”
Blushing, she replied, “I’ll be 17 in two months.”
“Jesus!”
She sat back in the driver’s seat. Disappointed, like a puppy in a pet store. “You don’t like me?”
I cursed myself under my breath. “That has nothing to do with it.”
“I won’t tell no one. I promise.” Sincerity in her voice.
I shook my head. “I’m sure you won’t.”
It was hard to stomach what I’d almost done. Had I actually fallen this low? What the hell was the matter with me?
I took a deep breath. “Look, I can’t do this.” My hand went to open the door.
She put a hand on top of mine. Those eyes pleading with me. “Please don’t go.”
I stared back at her silently, trying my best to see her as a kid instead of a temptress. It was all completely clear to me now. I saw pain and scars behind her pretty face with too much make-up. Seeing this new side of her made me uncomfortable and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
“I…I just thought you liked me.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of boys your age interested in you.” My eyes moved to the window. The rain continued to fall heavily and showed no sign of letting up. My conscience urged me to step out of the car and suffer a cold rather than meddle in some strange girl’s life.
I sighed. “I better go.”
“Come on, let me make it up to you.” She noticed his apprehension and giggled. “Nothing like that, I promise.”
I blushed and released the door handle. “What do you have in mind?”
She started the car. “I could cook you a nice warm meal. Give your clothes a chance to dry, and let this storm blow over.”
I returned her smile. “That’d be great.”
The heavy downpour continued as she drove passed a country store with a single gas pump and through a rural neighborhood with the homes on half acre lots. Some were trailers, others had a house in front with a trailer in the back. Many had junk cars wasting away in dirt driveways sitting on cement blocks, waiting to be worked on. Clotheslines loosely hung out the back of many of the homes with fresh drops of water waiting to drip to the ground. A few well kept houses were sprinkled here and there with freshly mowed lawns and picket fences.
They drove passed a group of young boys playing in the rain wearing only their rolled up blue jeans. An old man sat on the porch, staring at the rain from his rocker with lonely eyes. His dry, wrinkled face turned towards the car, and for a brief moment made eye contact with me.
The road curved and Misty pulled into the driveway of the last house on the street. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing there but the lure of a warm meal was too much to resist.
Misty led us to the front door. The lawn full of weeds and overgrown grass, a rusted bicycle on its side, and dead flowers lining the walkway. A rotting brown wood fence enclosed the back yard.
Once inside she told me to wait in the entrance way while she took a pile of laundry off the couch and into another room. It was then that I noticed her smell still lingered on me alluringly. Family photos lined the front hallway. Most were pictures of Misty, two brothers, and her mom. I didn’t see a dad in any of them. My eyes moved to her older brother’s football photos, standing proudly with his clean uniform and freshly shaven face; the all-American kid.
Misty appeared at my side. “That’s my older brother, Drew. Some football player, let me tell ya. Did you know he made first team all-district last year as a safety?” She blushed. “Of course you wouldn’t, not being from around here and all.”
The way she stared at the photos made me uncomfortable. “We miss him a lot.”
“Did he leave for college?”
Her eyes glistened. “He died about three months ago. There was a fight in the parking lot after one of his games. Drew tried to break it up. He was always like that, trying to be the hero. Someone pulled a knife.”
Her fingers traced a picture of Drew and her at the beach, taken a few years earlier. She wiped her tears and glanced at me with embarrassment. “You hungry?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
“Make yourself comfortable in the living room. Turn the TV on if you want. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Trust me, I’m not worth it.”
Her eyes narrowed playfully. “There you go again. Now I brought you here, you might as well eat.”
Before she turned to the kitchen, she said, “How rude of me. You’re standing there in those wet clothes. Drew has a shirt you can wear while I put yours in the dryer.”
She disappeared into a bedroom and reappeared holding a maroon Texas A&M University shirt. “He always wanted to go to college there,” she said. “It’s funny. I can still smell him on these clothes.”
Her eyes moistened again, her body trembled. I hesitated before wrapping my arms around her and holding her against me tightly. I closed my eyes and tried my best to push all impure thoughts about her out of my mind. She sobbed as I held her, cherishing the companionship that I offered. I held her for several minutes, taking in her scent, and warmth. Her body pressing against mine. She looked up at me, wiping her face. “I’m sorry. You must really think I’m silly for acting like this.” She lowered her face. I touched her cheek and raised her chin.
“Don’t be. It’s okay.”
“You better get out of that shirt before you catch a cold,” she said.
I untucked my shirt and undid the buttons before pulling it over my head.
She took the wet shirt from me and handed me the t-shirt. Her eyes moved down my chest suggestively before looking away. Her hands ran up my chest gently while she played with rifts of hair on my chest. I knew I could only hold back the lust a while longer. She seemed so vulnerable, yet so seductive. And I was only a man, a lonely one at that who needed to feel a woman next to me. The chemistry between us was undeniable. I told myself it would be consensual and…
Wait. What the hell was I doing? I took her hands in mine, took a step back from her and took a deep breath. If I didn’t do something about it, the situation would soon be out of my control.
Misty’s cheeks were flushed. “Whoa. What was that?”
I glanced at her. “Uh, I’m not sure, but I think you’re about to get me in some serious trouble.”
She put her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. “You look like the kind of fellow who can handle a little trouble.”
I put the t-shirt on and looked at myself in the mirror. It fit snugly on my lean body. “This isn’t the type of trouble I’m looking for.”
Misty sighed. “You’re a decent man, JD. Not many like you left, especially ‘round here.”
I looked at myself in the mirror again. That was a first.
*****
I sat on the couch in the living room staring at the blank television screen. Scattered pieces of laundry were on the floor, and filled ash trays were on the coffee table next to empty coke cans. The room smelled like cigarettes and dirty socks. Stacks of Reader’s Digest lined the bottom of a dusty bookshelf next to an incomplete set of worn encyclopedias.
Misty turned on a radio in the kitchen while she prepared dinner, an old Waylan Jennings song played. “Let’s go to Lucenboch, Texas, with Waylon, Willie, and the boys…”
My conscience still battled itself over my intentions with Misty. As of now, it was a toss up which side would win. I turned on the television to get my mind off of her. I began to flip through the channels one by one…commercial, commercial, news, commercial, sports, news, MTV, sports, commercials. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular to watch, and the flipping almost became hypnotic. It reminded me of the life I’d left behind. Many sleepless nights sitting on the couch, just mindlessly flipping, as if my brain were attached to the screen. I would later refer to it as the great brain drain. Television was the mind control of the 20th century, with each generation being more and more dependent on it. It has become the shrine that every family worships and pays daily tribute.
The more commercials I saw, the faster I flipped. Soon the images on the screen flashed before me at a mind numbing rate. I wanted to stop but my thumb kept pressing the button like an involuntary muscle. Just find one channel or turn the damn thing off! I refused to sit through a commercial. I wasn’t interested in buying a car or going to a movie. I didn’t want to buy a pair of $150 sneakers just because some athlete has his name on them. I was tired of living in a consumer based society where to be a good citizen means you must buy, buy, buy. It never ends. Everything is prepackaged and mass marketed to such an extreme that eventually you become a mindless zombie wandering through grocery store aisles only buying the name brand items you’ve seen advertised five hundred times.
I closed my eyes and turned the television off with a heavy sigh. Could TV really make a person go insane? It should be used for either educational or entertainment purposes only, not as a cure for insomniacs or obsessive compulsive behavior, or as a tool for corporate giants.
I sat on the couch for several minutes, staring at the blank television screen, wondering why I let her take me to her house. Something about it didn’t sit right with me. Trying to live like a drifter, I led my life like tumbleweed, going where the wind took me. The question on my mind was why had I been brought here.
The front door opened and a young boy, maybe ten years old stepped inside. He shook the water out of this blonde hair and tossed his backpack next to the door. Misty greeted him with a hug. “Hey, Andy, how was school?”
Andy saw me sitting comfortably on the couch, wearing his brother’s old t-shirt and frowned. “Who’s he?”
Misty smiled at me before turning back to her little brother. “This is my friend, JD, he’s going to have dinner with us.”
Andy stood in the hallway, not sure what to think of this stranger in his living room. “Did mom say it was okay?”
“She’s working the late shift tonight and won’t be back ‘til the morning.”
Andy stared at me. “Isn’t that one of Drew’s shirts?”
I stared at the floor uncomfortably. I’d walked into a sensitive domestic situation and had the sudden urge to run out the door and never look back.
“JD’s clothes got wet in the rain so I let him borrow one of Drew’s old shirts.”
Andy didn’t approve and eyed me suspiciously. “So what are you cooking?”
“Your favorite, spaghetti.”
“Try not to burn the noodles this time.” Andy stomped down the hall to his room and slammed the door behind him.
Misty blushed and gave me an embarrassed smile.
I felt even more out of place now, as if I were violating the routine of a dysfunctional family. I didn’t belong here and felt the awkwardness of my presence in the house.
“Don’t mind him. He hasn’t been the same since Drew died. None of us have really, but it seemed to affect Andy the most.” Sadness in her eyes now. “He doesn’t have any friends. All he does anymore is go to his room and play video games.”
I felt I was being involuntarily pulled into a situation I didn’t want to be in. The less I knew about these people the better. But I already knew too much. I glanced at the front door. I could still walk away now with nothing to lose, but a part of me wanted to stay; curiosity perhaps, or was it just the lure of a home cooked meal? Probably a little of both. But if I stayed I risked an emotional attachment I wanted no part of. If I was to stay I would have to abide by certain rules: don’t ask questions, just smile politely and wait for dinner.
Misty went back into the kitchen and I found myself alone in the living room again. She said from the kitchen, “If you want to, see if he’ll let you play with him.”
This just keeps getting better and better. Reluctantly, I stood up and walked down the hallway. I knocked once on the door and stood there with my hands in my pockets. A few seconds later, the door cracked open and Andy stared at me with narrow eyes. “What do you want?”
Why did this kid make me so nervous? Was it that I feared the kid could see right through my shallow demeanor? “I, uh, was wondering what games you have?”
Andy glanced down the hallway to see if his sister was coming before opening the door. “I have Mortal Combat, Twisted Metal, and a couple of racing games. You ever play any of them?”
I nodded slowly. “A long time ago.”
“I have an extra remote if you want to join in.”
“Sure, why not.”
Ten year boys can makes friends with anyone. The minute I agreed to play, Andy’s eyes lit up and he smiled as if his long search for a companion had ended.
I listened as Andy gave detailed instructions on how to play each game and how to use the controller properly.
Once we started playing, I was able to relax for a while and just enjoy the moment. In the middle of a game, Andy surprised me by suddenly asking, “So you’re Misty’s new boyfriend?”
I chuckled. “No, I’m not her boyfriend.”
Andy frowned. “Why not? I can tell she likes you.”
Choosing my words carefully, I said, “Well, I just met her, and I don’t live around here.”
“Where are you from?”
“Here and there, different places,” I replied, quickly losing interest in the game.
“So why are you here?”
I grinned. “You’re a lot like your sister, you know that?”
Andy looked at me with those probing eyes again. “You never answered my question.”
“I’m not sure why I’m here, Andy.”
Misty set the table and poured iced tea into the glasses while Andy and me washed hands in the kitchen sink. Misty had taken my shirt out of the dryer and given it back to me. I felt the warmth of the freshly dried shirt against my skin. A quick glance out the window told me the rain had stopped and bits of sunlight were making their way through the dark clouds. After dinner I’d be back on the road once again.
An awkward silence lingered in the air during dinner. I took my time eating the meal. I couldn’t remember last time I’d eaten a home cooked meal, and there was no telling when I would have another one. So I wanted to cherish every last bite.
“Would you like some wine or a beer?” Misty offered.
I raised an eyebrow that made her blush and play with her hair.
“My momma has some in the fridge if you want.”
“No thanks.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “This really is a delicious meal. Thank you again for having me over.”
With her fork, Misty played with her food. “So, did you two have a good time playing games?”
I winked at Andy who smiled. “We sure did.”
Andy hungrily ate his food. “When are you going to come over again, JD?” His cheerfulness and enthusiasm made me all the guiltier.
I glanced quickly at Misty who lowered her eyes. “I’m not sure, kiddo.”
“Momma told me if I was good at school and bring my grades up, she’ll get me a new game for my birthday.”
“You still have a lot of work to do then,” Misty teased.
I grinned and took a sip of tea. This was just your average family, trying to make it through life the best they can. Dealing with a recent tragedy had taken its toll on them. All they really needed was someone to listen to them. I was pleased with myself for providing them temporary comfort. That was the reason I’d been looking for the entire afternoon. That was why I’d ended up here of all places. For the first time in a while, I felt satisfied with myself, like I’d actually done something useful.
The sound of gravel crunching in the driveway and a motor turning off made me glance out the kitchen window. Three guys, late teens hopped out of a white Ford pick-up truck and began walking to the front door with heavy footsteps.
A glint of fear in Misty’s eyes told me those guys weren’t welcome guests. They knocked loudly on the front door. Andy lowered his eyes and set his fork down, and Misty turned to me. “I’ll be right back.”
Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I watched her leave the kitchen. Loud, obnoxious voices came in when she opened the front door. Misty tried to block their path, but they rudely brushed passed her and invited themselves inside.
Misty said, “Now’s not a good time.”
“Now’s as good a time as any,” one said in a husky voice.
“Something sure smells good. I didn’t know she was going to cook for us,” another one said.
“You need to leave,” she told them.
“That’s no way to treat guests,” said the third.
Entering the kitchen ahead of Misty, I got my first glimpse of the three guys. Two of them were large, corn fed country boys with thick necks with their stomachs rolling over the front of their blue jeans. The other one, Bo, had a thin waist but muscular upper body and steroid enhanced biceps that bulged in his tight fitting shirt.
One of the big guys, Cole, walked to the refrigerator and took out three beers. He handed them to Bo and Rusty, the other big guy. Cole popped his open and took a large sip.
They immediately sized me up before Bo said, “You going to introduce us to your new friend?”
Misty gave me a regretful glance. “Bo, you guys need to leave. I’ll call you later.”
Bo, with the huge biceps, stuck a finger in the spaghetti sauce and licked his finger. Grinning, he turned to me with his thick country boy accent. “Now that’s some good sauce. When she puts her mind to it, Misty’s a hell of a cook. What’d you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” I said bluntly not breaking Bo’s eye contact.
I was immediately met by hard, cold stares. “Where did you find this one, Misty, down by the Goodwill store?” Bo said. “Or was it the St. Vincent DePaul’s this time?”
His two friends laughed loudly.
“Stop being such an asshole, Bo,” Misty replied.
“As a friend of your brother’s, I know Drew would be so disappointed in you for not inviting us to sit down with ya’ll.” Bo took a seat at the head of the table. “I’ll tell you what, you come over here and sit on Bo-daddy’s lap so we can take care of some unfinished business, then we’ll leave. I promise.” A sinister glint reflected off the blackness of his eyes.
His unflinching arrogance reminded me of dozens of guys I’d met over the years; ill-mannered with nasty dispositions. The kind of guys who would provoke you until it was difficult to walk away from them.
Bo’s eyes met mine. “You have a problem with something, buddy?”
I leveled my gaze. “Not yet I don’t.”
With a toothy grin, Bo said, “Boys, we got ourselves a Lone Ranger here. Or is he just Tonto?” Bo picked up my glass and put his fingers inside to grab an ice cube. He set the glass down and grinned while he crunched on the ice loudly.
Misty glanced back and forth between Andy and me. Fear settled in her baby blue eyes. The kind of fear I wanted no part of. But in that moment when our eyes met, I knew where the pain behind those eyes came from. The muscles in my stomach tightened.
“Bo, just come back later okay?”
“Why, so you can finish up with Shaggy here? I don’t want his sloppy seconds. No telling where this boy’s been.”
I felt I was being pulled into one of those situations I tried to avoid. There was only one way out of it. I knew what I had to do. My face reddened as I spoke. “Misty, I appreciate your hospitality, but I think it’d be best if I left.” Misty’s eyes pleaded with me, and Andy’s silence grew louder.
I stood up but two big hands planted on my shoulders pushed me back into the chair. “Where do you think you’re going, Shaggy?” Rusty asked.
“Come on guys. I’m trying to walk away,” I said. Reasoning with them did about as much good as hitting your head against a brick wall. But they were mistaken if it was fear they smelled from me. I wasn’t scared, indifferent maybe, but not scared. I didn’t know Misty well enough to take a beating for her. Maybe Bo was just a jealous boyfriend. Maybe she had led Bo on the same way she’d tried to seduce me earlier. Or maybe,…what? Again, the pain and fear in her eyes disturbed me. I tried to push that last thought from my mind. The last thing I needed was a reason to get more involved than I already was.
“No, he stays,” Bo said.
“If you won’t leave, then I’m calling the cops.” Misty stood up and picked up the phone.
Bo grabbed her wrist and tore the phone from her grip. “Now why are you goin’ to do a thing like that? We have no problem here. We’s just sittin’ here talkin’.”
He tightened his grip on her wrist. She yelled, “Let me go!”
The muscles tightened in my neck, and Rusty applied more pressure on my shoulders.
Bo forced her on to his lap and began fondling her in familiar places. “Such a little whorish cocktease!”
“No!” she screamed.
Bo held her tightly and grinned. “I think she likes it. Let’s see what else she likes.”
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. “Let her go!”
I saw a bright light as Cole smashed me in the jaw with his large fist. A stream of blood dripped from my mouth to the floor. I tried shaking the cobwebs from my head.
“You trying to be her hero, Shaggy?” Bo asked. “Let me tell you something about this little whore. She ain’t even worth it or the five dollars she charges at the truck stop for hand jobs.”
I tried to lash out but Cole immediately slammed my head into the table, nearly breaking my nose on the plate, and smearing sauce in my face. I slumped over and fell to the floor in a pile of food, broken glass, blood, and humiliation. Rusty delivered several fierce kicks to my ribs and face with his steel toed boots. The room was now blurry and spinning.
“You had enough yet, boy? We’ll beat the fight out of you for damn sure!” Rusty said.
Bo grinned at me. “You better look out for old Rusty there. He’s liable to mistake you for one of his daddy’s farm animals. Ain’t that right, Rusty?”
“Fuck you, man! You know I ain’t like that!”
Cole laughed as he finished his beer. “Yeah, come on, Bo. Everyone knows Rusty is picky when it comes to farm animals. He primarily likes sheep.”
“Fuck you guys!” Rusty’s face reddened in embarrassment.
Misty looked down at me. “Stop, leave him alone! He didn’t do anything!”
I tried to open my eyes but the pain was tremendous. I saw the back door and attempted to crawl towards it. I seemed so far away. Everything was spinning now as I clung on to consciousness.
Misty clawed at Bo with her long fingernails, raking them across his face and breaking the skin.
“Fucking bitch!” Bo punched her in the mouth with a closed fist, bloodying her lip.
Bo felt the blood on his cheek and pursed his lip as he contemplated his next move. “Take that pile of shit in the backyard.”
“What about him?” Rusty said, referring to Andy, sitting there frightened at the table.
“Take him outside too,” Bo said.
“What are you going to do?” Cole asked.
“Never mind that. Just do it!”
Cole dragged me out the back door and dropped me in a bloody pile in the mud and wet grass. Rusty slung Andy over his broad shoulders and carried him outside. They locked the door once they were back inside and turned their attention back to Misty.
Bo looked at her, his dark eyes filling with lust. “Now then, darlin’ where were we?”
****
It’s funny how quickly things can begin to spin wildly out of control. One minute you’re eating spaghetti and sipping ice tea, and the next someone has their boot in your ear.
I felt himself veering near the edge of a cliff that was all too familiar to me. I swore I’d never return to that point, but there I was, once again, peering over the edge, into the darkness.
I slowly tried to open my eyes but the swelling in one had nearly closed it. I touched the cut and felt the warm blood on my dirty hands. My ribs ached and I felt as if I’d been used as a punching bag. I carefully sat up in the uncut, rain soaked lawn. At the moment, pain was the only thing holding back my anger.
Andy sat near me, rocking back and forth, as if in an autistic state poking a stick in the wet ground.
“Who are those guys?”
Andy replied without looking at me. “They played football with Drew.”
I glanced at the back window. I couldn’t see what was happening inside, and probably didn’t want to know.
“How often do they stop by?”
“Once a week.”
“And what do they do?” I asked, wiping blood off my nose.
“Whatever they want.” Andy began stabbing the dirt with his stick until it broke. Then he sat there and made fists with the dirt, tears streaming down his face. “They usually leave me out here. They told me they’d hurt Misty real bad if I ever told anyone.”
At that moment the screams began from inside the house. The kind of violent bone chilling screams that echo in your mind afterwards. When I closed my eyes, I could only imagine the horrible things they were doing to her. Misty’s screams continued at a regular interval for what seemed like an eternity.
I tried to block the noise from my mind because walking away would be so much easier if there was silence coming from the house. I didn’t want to think about what they were doing to her in there. Screams like that were only reserved for the most savage and brutal of acts against man, woman, or child.
I stood up, dusting myself off with every intention of getting the hell out of there. I didn’t know these people, they didn’t know me. As I started to walk towards the wooden gate leading out of the back yard, the screams grew more guttural. I closed my eyes again and told myself that I could live with myself if I just walked away. It might be hard at first, but it would eventually fade away, like so many of my other memories. I’d made a habit of walking away from my problems, never having to confront my demons face to face.
Just go, run now. Don’t look back. That’s why I left everything behind to begin with. So I wouldn’t have to get involved. That’s the way I wanted my life, with no strings attached. I could come and go as I pleased with nothing to tie me down.
I reached the gate and pulled it open. Don’t do it, asshole! Don’t you dare turn around! Keep walking. You know what will happen if you look back.
I wasn’t sure why I did it, but I turned and saw Andy, sitting in the dirt, staring at me from across the yard with his red eyes. It wasn’t sadness or fear that I saw, but disappointment in his eyes. Disappointment that went straight to my heart and down to the pit of my stomach.
I took a deep breath and knew then that those haunting eyes would stay with me forever. Goddamnit! Why the hell did you have to turn around?
It was all about the eyes with me. Andy with those disappointed eyes. Misty with the pain in her eyes that should have been innocence.
More screams, followed by hollering coming from the house.
I glanced from Andy to the house to back to Andy. I squeezed my eyes closed and shut the gate. The pain in my swollen eye hurt like hell, but the adrenaline now flowing through my blood eased the pain. I rubbed my bruised jaw and looked up at the overcast sky. The rain might have stopped but there was still moisture in the air.
A loose board hung limply on the wooden fence with two rusty nails on one end. Perfect. I lifted the board, roughly the size of a 4×4, and felt the weight in my hands to get a feel for the splintery piece of wood. Slinging the board over a shoulder I turned to Andy. I dug into my jean pocket and brought out a five dollar bill. Standing over Andy, I tossed him the money.
“Take a walk. Buy yourself a Coke or something. If you find a phone, call an ambulance.” That’s all I said.
Andy held the bill and squinted at me in the dwindling sunlight. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak but no words came out. Disappointment was replaced by appreciation. Ten-year-old boys don’t bullshit with you. They tell you how it is, even if it’s just with a facial expression.
“They usually lock the door, but there’s an extra key under the mat.” Andy hesitated before opening the back door of the fence, the wind blowing hair across his tear streaked face.
“Go on now,” I told him.
“JD?”
“Yes?”
Andy stared silently, searching for words.
“It’s going to be okay, kiddo. I promise.”
Once Andy disappeared from view, I looked at the house and took a deep breath. As I took the long walk to the back door, wet leaves under my heavy boots, thoughts raced into my mind. What the hell are you about to get yourself into?
The image of Andy’s face, filled with disappointment burned into my memory. Images of seeing Misty for the first time in the pouring rain on the side of the highway. She had wanted to please me so badly, but why? Why had she really brought me to the house?
It came to me in a moment of clarity. Sonofabitch! Why hadn’t I seen it earlier. There was a reason for everything? I had stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago. It seemed to me that all things were part of a larger plan in which you rarely got to see the end result.
The back door loomed closer. A question remained: Would I get to see the end result of this?
When I stepped on the back porch, I found the extra key just where Andy said it’d be. Muffled sounds coming from inside. They must have covered her mouth, getting tired of her screams.
With a steady hand, I put the key in the door and slowly turned the handle…
The sun hung low in the quickly approaching dusk. The storm had moved elsewhere so only a few scattered clouds lined the orange and blue sunset. The smell of moisture remained in the air, giving off a feeling of renewal as if the world had been temporarily cleansed.
I walked south, knowing I’d eventually get to the city. I stopped at a ditch and washed the blood from my hands with the fresh rain water. Violent images of what I’d done flashed forth into my mind. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I was capable of.
You killed them all, didn’t you? You didn’t stop until they were all dead. It felt good, didn’t it? To finally have a chance to release all of your anger and hatred of the word that had been bottled up inside you for so long.
I saw myself in the house, swinging the board with the rusty nails wildly. Not stopping until I was sure no one would get up. One guy’s face had nearly been taken off with the nails. Oh Jesus! I bent over and vomited. You only did what you had to do. Don’t forget that.
I saw myself dropping the board and standing, stunned over the three bodies. Misty, scrambling to put her clothes on, tried to speak to me, but I didn’t hear anything. She wanted to embrace me, but I brushed her aside, walked out the front door and didn’t look back. Not this time.
With the sleeve of my shirt, I wiped the edges of my mouth. An acidic aftertaste lingered on my breath.
A sudden chill ran through my body. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I headed south. Once again down the lonely stretch of highway, a thousand miles from nowhere.
July 3rd, 2003
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