A Time of Anarchy- Mayan's Story

by Roberta Kagan

  “How are you feeling?” The elderly doctor with the crisp white coat smiled as he held his stethoscope to May’s chest.

  “All right, I guess. I’m a little sore.”

  “How much do you remember?”

  “Not much, really.”

  “Just as I thought. You had a concussion, and consequently, you lost consciousness.”

  “Was I raped?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” the doctor said.

  “Umm,” she sighed in pain. “I hope I’m not pregnant.”

  “You won’t be. Don’t worry about that. But if I might suggest that you see someone who can help you cope…a therapist would be a good idea.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You’re no more than a child. Where are your parents?” the doctor said with concern.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. My father left, and the last time I talked to my mom she didn’t want to talk to me.”

  “And may I ask, just how old are you?”

  “Eighteen,” May lied. She knew that if the doctor found out that she was underage, he would have her declared a ward of the state.

  “Do you have an ID? A drivers license, perhaps?”

  “Yes I have one, but it’s not here with me. I have to send my friend home to get it. I can have it for you tomorrow.”

  “That would be a good idea. For now, you are doing well?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good, very good. A police officer should be coming by to visit you soon. Probably late this afternoon. It would be wise to have your identification with you when they arrive. The authorities will most likely want to see your license.”

  After the doctor left, Cricket returned.

  “What did he say? Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. But I have to get out of here as soon as possible. If these people find out that I’m underage, I’ll end up in a state institution. And even worse, you and Red will probably be arrested for hanging around with a minor. I’d never get to see you again. You have to help me, Cricket.”

  “Oh shit. That’s true. I never thought about you being underage. Maybe you’re right, maybe we should head out to California. We can contact Red from there and let him know why we split.”

  “Do we even need to tell him?”

  “I’d sure like to. I don’t want to just leave him not knowing what the fuck happened. He was really bent out of shape with worry last night. We don’t need to tell him we’re lovers, but we should tell him we split because the cops were coming and you’re underage. We’ll just tell him that we’re gonna be gone for a little while, until the heat is off, and then we’ll come back.”

  “Yeah, okay, so we’ll call him. Eventually, just not right away - you promised, Cricket. But let’s get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Are you okay to go? Did the doc say you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Can you get some of my clothes and pack the car?”

  “Sure. I’ll get some of our stuff together and we can split later today. I won’t take too much so Red won’t notice.”

  “You better go now and hurry.” She smiled at him. “The doc said that the cops should be here later this afternoon.”

  He nodded. “May,” his voice was a whisper. “I really love you.”

  Chapter 44

  To May it seemed like a lifetime, but it was only an hour before Cricket returned to the hospital. She looked away as he carefully removed the IV from her hand and bandaged the open wound. Then she got up and went to the sink, where she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and quickly dressed in the jeans and tee shirt he brought for her. They knew they must leave as soon as possible, before the police arrived and the questions began.

  The nurse’s station was located to the left of May’s room and so to avoid seeing anyone, the couple headed to the right. A few feet down the hall there was a doorway. Above it the words stairs were written in red, and beneath the writing was a picture that indicated this to be a fire escape.

  “Do you think an alarm will go off when we open it?” May asked.

  “No. I really doubt it. It doesn’t work like that at the hospital where I work. I use the stairs all the time. It’s just going to be a long walk down from the third floor in your condition. Do you think you can do it? I’ll help you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 45

  On Route 66…

  Route 66 ran from Illinois to California. The road enjoyed a sort of celebrity status because it had been traveled by such great legends as Will Rogers and Woody Guthrie. In fact, the road was sometimes affectionately referred to as The Will Rogers Highway. During the Great Depression of the 1930s, when the massive dust storms hit with devastating fury, destroying the farms in the dust bowl, the migrants traveled west on Route 66 with dreams of a new life, and finding work in California.

  May gazed out the car window as the farms of Oklahoma drifted by. Cows grazed lazily in the grass while horses stood leaning their long necks against redwood fences. The Heartland of America was ablaze with the colors of fall. And although winter would soon cast her icy spell upon the country, right now the weather was perfect, with just enough of a chill to present the air with a bouquet of freshness. The beauty around her brought tears to May’s eyes. She was lucky to be alive, and yet her body felt broken, weak and violated. Every time she moved she felt the soreness of the bruising that turned patches of the skin on her face and body deep violet. Although she had no memory of the rape, somehow her body remembered and plagued her with phantom pains, reminders of what she thought might have happened while she was unconscious.

  Cricket was handsome, with the sun shining through the window on his well-defined features. He turned to smile at May. Then he reached to squeeze her hand. She returned his smile. It was good to be here beside him. Every mile they traveled was another mile farther away from Red and the past.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, a little.”

  “I am too. How about we stop at the next diner that we see? Let’s try and find one that has a gas station attached to it so we can fill up the car.”

  “Sounds good.” She squeezed his hand.

  “Are you happy, Baby?”

  “Yes, very.”

  “Do you hurt?”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s gonna take a while for all these bruises to heal.”

  “It will, but in a week or two you’ll be feeling fine. You know, I still wish we would have talked to Red about all this before we just took off. I feel guilty leaving him without explaining anything,” Cricket said.

  “I know you do. But believe me Cricket, it’s for the best this way.” This talk of Red was getting on her nerves. She wondered how Cricket could be so blind to his brother’s real personality.

  “I don’t agree with you, but I love you so we’ll do it your way. Eventually, though, I do want to call Red and explain.”

  “I know; you keep telling me.” She was clearly irritated.

  “Because I want to make sure that you understand.”

  “Okay, I do. But you promised you’d wait until we were settled. Just don’t do anything without talking to me first, okay, Cricket?”

  “Yeah, you know I won’t. I hate to upset you.”

  “Thank you. And Cricket, I hate to be a bitch, but please stop asking me to talk to Red. We’ve gone over it and over it. You’ve asked me a thousand times already.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just feel so guilty. I wish you coulda seen Red that night when we couldn’t find you. He cares.”

  “Yeah, and so, if he does, then he would be crazed when he found out about us.”

  “I don’t think so. I know he cares, but he would understand. The thing with Red is that no chick means that much to him as a girlfriend. I think he was just worried because you’re a part of the gang now. I’m his brother, and he’d want me to be happy. Besides, he’s just not wired that way, no
t when it comes to women. He isn’t jealous. I know this is going to sound strange, but when he’s done with one of his girls, he encourages the other guys in the gang to take her on as a girlfriend.”

  “Sounds real good, Cricket, so I get passed around like some whore. That makes me feel really special.”

  “Did I say that?”

  “Yeah, in a way you did.”

  “Well, I sure didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that Red won’t care that we’re together. You’ll see. Do you understand?”

  “I get what you’re telling me. But remember…you promised you wouldn’t contact him.”

  “Yes, and a promise is a promise,” he said. She took his hand, pressing it to her lips. Then he took hers and returned the gesture.

  “Hey, did I say I love you yet today?” he asked.

  “Nope. You must have forgotten.” The irritation she felt slipped away. She smiled at him.

  “No, Baby, that’s one thing I never forget. I love you…”

  A cloud of dust flew up into the air from the dirt road as Cricket turned, maneuvering the car into the gas station. A young, stocky attendant, his weather-worn skin tanned deep brown, wearing a green uniform jumpsuit with his name “Al” embroidered on the breast pocket, walked over to the car window. Cricket rolled down the window and turned off the ignition.

  “How y’all doing?” Al asked.

  “Good.” Cricket smiled. “Eight dollars, regular.” That should fill the tank or at least come pretty close.

  Al began pumping the gas while he wiped the windows and checked the oil. Then he made sure that the tires had plenty of air.

  “How’s the food here?” Cricket asked, indicating a diner just a few feet from the filling station.

  “It ain’t too bad.” Al smiled. “It’s my sister’s place. Go on in and ask for Penelope. Tell her Al sent you and that you want to taste some of her sweet potato pie. She makes the best pie.”

  “Oh yeah.” Cricket smiled at Al. “What do you think May? How about some sweet potato pie?”

  “I’ve never had it, but I’d be willing to try.”

  When they entered the diner the song “Bad Moon Rising,” by Credence Clearwater Revival, was playing on the jukebox. Crudely made tables of wood, painted white, were scattered around the room. The décor was simple, no tablecloths. A full-bodied woman with an endless smile, short red hair, and a white full apron called to May and Cricket from behind the counter.

  “Sit anywhere you want.”

  They sat at the window, looking out at the traffic. The woman brought them menus.

  “Are you Penelope?” May asked.

  “Yes, I am, child. How did you ever know my name?”

  “Your brother Al, in the gas station, said you make the best sweet potato pie in the state.”

  “Yep, that’s for sure. And he eats enough of it to know. Just look at how fat he is.” She laughed. “Not that anybody could call me puny.” She laughed again, and her double chin rolled like waves on the ocean. “Now, ain’t that fact that we’s both hefty a pretty damn good indication of just how appetizing my pie really is?”

  May smiled at Penelope.

  “I’ll leave you two kids to decide what you be wantin.’ You just let me know when you’re ready. All right then.” Penelope walked back to the back of the restaurant. May liked her.

  Cricket scanned the menu. “What do you feel like eating, May?”

  “A burger, I guess,” she said.

  “Penelope, I think we’re ready,” Cricket called out.

  Penelope came back to the table. “Shoot; I’m ready for you.”

  “Okay, make it two burgers, with French fries and Cokes. And two pieces of pie for dessert,” Cricket said.

  “Wow, that’s a lot of food,” May said.

  “You’ll enjoy it.” Penelope smiled at them both. “You could use a little fattening up.” She winked at May and walked away to place the order.

  The food was wonderful, fresh and homemade. The burgers were thick, hand-pressed, and the fries were fresh cut. Sweet potato pie tasted like pumpkin, only better.

  After they finished eating, Penelope laid the check in front of Cricket. “So where are you two kids from? You don’t look like you come from these parts.”

  “No, we’re from the city,” Cricket said.

  “Oklahoma City? You sure don’t look like no Okies.”

  “Chicago,” May offered.

  “Wow, that there is the real city. I don’t think I could live there. Too damn many people. I love the peace and quiet.”

  “Do lots of people come through here?”

  “Yeah, quite a few. Most of ‘em are in search of the mystery of Route 66. I can’t complain; it keeps the diner alive.”

  “It’s a nice place. The food was great,” May said.

  “You oughta stay around for a while. I’d put a little meat on your bones.”

  May laughed. “Thanks for everything,” she said.

  “You are very welcome. And you two kids be safe, all right?”

  Cricket pulled a couple of singles from his wallet and laid them on the counter. Then they left.

  The car eased off the shoulder and back onto the road. Cricket lit a cigarette and offered one to May. She accepted and turned on the radio.

  “I never told nobody this,” Cricket said.

  “What?”

  “Well, this is kinda strange, but, I didn’t come straight home when I got discharged from the army.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Here and there. Actually, I worked for a while on a cattle ranch in Texas. It was a only a couple of miles off of Route 66.”

  “Wow, so all this stuff is familiar to you?”

  “Yeah, it sure is. I never did get as far as California though. Only got to Nevada.”

  “Why didn’t you come home?” May asked.

  “I had to take some time to just let go of everything to put myself back in a “States” frame of mind. Everything is so different when you’re in ‘Nam; “in country,” we called it. It was like I needed time to think before I came back to my old life. You know, get my head straight, decide what I wanted before I saw Red and the gang again. Working on the ranch was good for me. I was outside a lot taking care of the horses. And although the work was hard, it gave me a lot of time to just relax and think everything through. I was so fucking angry and confused when I got back to the States. I mean, here we soliders risked our fucking lives and then we came back to find that the whole damn country hated us for it. I mean, I’d wear my uniform, and people on the street would spit at me and call me ‘baby killer.’ Fuck, man, it broke my heart. Believe me, we thought we were doing the right thing. Preserving freedom, ya know? Then it was like, wow, here at home we were the enemy.”

  “I know, Crick. It’s a strange war, not like World War I or II. Everyone here is so against it, and they take it out on the soliders.”

  “Yeah, and it’s not right. It wasn’t our fault. We just did what we thought we were supposed to do, and believe me, we paid a huge price. There were so many guys who came back wounded, maimed, fucked up in the head. And then some came back in body bags, and others are scattered in pieces all over ‘Nam.” He shook his head.

  “How long was it before you came back to Chicago?”

  “Can’t say for sure, but it was a while. A year maybe,” Cricket said.

  “You never told Red?”

  “I never told nobody but you.”

  “I’m glad you came home.”

  “So am I, Baby, so am I.” He squeezed her hand.

  Cricket drove for another hour until they stopped at a roadside motel. The large yellow sign the size of a big picture window facing the street read: “The Lazy Inn: Vacancy.”

  “Wait in the car,” Cricket said to May “You’re underage and I don’t want any trouble. I’ll go in and get us a room for the night.”

  Glen Birdsong wet his comb, then ran it through his thick black hair. He smiled at his reflec
tion; he was as handsome as Elvis. But he had something Elvis didn’t; he had that strong, sexy Indian blood. His raven-black eyes never failed to bring willing women flocking to his bed. And he loved them. Well, not exactly true; he loved and hated them. They were wonderful when they were on their backs with their legs spread and their mouths shut, unless, of course they were giving him head. He laughed at the thought. But once they got out of bed, women were demanding, overbearing and needy.

  They always wanted more, far more than he was willing to give. Even now, his wife Mara’s irritating voice blasted at him through the walls. He cringed at the sharp sounds of the baby crying and the slamming of pots and pans. It was a good thing that he drove a truck for a living. That truck was his salvation. It meant escape from the stifling life that he’d buried himself in. If he’d only used a condom. In a moment of passion, he’d knocked Mara up in the back of his ‘58 Chevy. When his bossy mother found out, she had insisted that they get married. So, now 22, he was saddled with a ready-made family and a wife whose presence disgusted him.

  “Glen!” Mara called for him again.

  “Yeah, what?” He did nothing to hide the irritation in his voice.

  “Get in here. I need your help. I have to run some stuff across the street to Betty and I can’t leave the baby.”

  “Shit, Mara, I am trying to get ready to get out of here. I’m supposed to be in California by Thursday, and I have another load I have to pick up in Nevada on the way.”

  “I won’t be long at Betty’s. Just give me a couple of minutes, would you, Glen?”

  “Fuck…” He threw the comb down on the dresser. “All right.”

  Glen walked into the kitchen to find the baby dripping in cereal. His stomach turned. The entire room was a mess. Pots and pans with food crusted over from the night before were scattered about the countertops. Dishes still caked with red sauce filled the sink. There was no doubt that the baby needed a diaper change; the room reeked of shit. It was a good thing Mara never made breakfast for him. Glen could puke just thinking about eating in this filthy, stinky room. He’d stop on the road. What a hellhole he had to call home.

  But it was funny; once he turned the key in the ignition and that truck slid around the corner away to where he could no longer see the house, a burst of life sprung inside of him. He was once again a free man. A smile crept over his face as he thought about leaving. The baby let out a piercing shriek, but he paid no attention. His mind drifted elsewhere; away, away to where he was a young single man again…and…all the girls on the highway with their thumbs out, just waiting…