by Holly Hood
Jon grabbed her backside rather forcefully as they took off out the front door, leaving me to fend for myself.
The usual was cash or anything that could provide us with cash and of course cigarettes.
I headed down the hallway with my suitcase looking back to make sure no one was watching me. I set my suitcase at the first door, slipping inside. The room was so cluttered I could barely get in. I took a quick glance around, looking for the typical hiding spots. I pulled a shoebox off the top shelf of the closet, but there was nothing in it but a rolled up porn and a box of condoms. I put it back and got on my tiptoes retrieving a photo album. The first page displayed a couple photos of a little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. He smiled so naturally at the camera. From the looks of the picture it was a birthday party. I shrugged away the jealousy moving on to the back of the album, and there were three hundred dollar bills. In a flash I folded them in half and pocketed them.
“Hey what are you doing?” Someone said from the doorway. I slinked back against the wall and dropped the album on a pile of clothes, kicking some dirty laundry on top of it.
“I thought this was where he said to sleep.”
The guy came closer. He looked me over suspiciously. He cleared his throat, shaking his head a bit confused. “No, I don’t think so. This is my room. Jon’s is down the hall,” he said.
It was clear he wasn’t comfortable; his body was rigid as he eyed me like a criminal.
“Ok, sorry,” I muttered starting for the door.
“What are you two doing here anyway? How do you know Jon?” he asked. The twang in his voice proved he was born and raised. He didn’t look any older then I was. His face young, his dark brown hair hung in front of his brown eyes.
“I don’t know Jon. My aunt does,” I said trying for the door again. He blocked me with his hand. Shoving the door shut. Now I was closed in with no way out.
“You guys are in need of money aren’t you?” He pushed me against the wall, using the best intimidations tactics he knew.
“Look, I’m just along for the ride. I don’t know what she is doing.” I stared into his eyes, I wasn’t about to show him he was scaring me.
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty in a week,” I said, my fingers secretly finding the doorknob and his fingers wrapped around it.
“Do you know Jon sells drugs?” He stayed close to my face not letting up.
“I told you I don’t know much about him or why we are here. We’ve been driving for a while, just needed a break,” I said, trying to play it cool.
“So, are you a nice girl, or are you more like that older broad?” He pressed his lips against my mouth, pinning my head against the door. His breath reeked of beer. And I soon discovered tasted like beer too once he shoved his tongue in my mouth.
He slid his hand down the front of my shorts not letting the zipper stop his descent. I prayed he kept his hands away from my back pocket. I closed my eyes, slipping from the moment as the groping continued; my mind was as blank as the night sky. His hands found my chest. He cupped my breast, kissing my neck. I wished for the shower, or for my guardian angel to swoop through the window and pound this creeps face in.
Someone pounded on the door. My heart pleaded for it to end, but he ignored it, tugging my shirt over my head.
“I think you’re a bad girl like that aunt of yours.” He pulled me close. I tried pulling away, tried to break the hold, my body tensed as he tugged the rest of my clothes from my body.
“Stop, I don’t even know you.” I pushed into his chest. It never surprised me what alcohol could make a man do.
“I’m Ben by the way,” he said, as if that made it okay. He tugged at my underwear, the thought of what was about to happen put me in panic mode. Adrenaline rocketed my body. I shoved him as hard as I could sending him flying over his bed.
He groaned, scrambling to his feet. I collected my clothes fighting to get the door open and ran down the hallway, snagging my suitcase. I desperately searched for the bathroom.
“Whoa what’s going on?” One of the drunken men said from the hallway. He had caught the tail end of my nude body as I slammed the bathroom door shut.
I clutched my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. It was like a wild bull frog jumping all over the place. I turned on the water drowning out the commotion in the hallway.
I was going to stay locked in the bathroom until Aunt Wanda came back—if she did. There were times she didn’t roll back around until morning.
These were the moments I wished for more. I just wanted someone to care enough about me, so these things didn’t happen. But no matter how much I wished for that it didn’t matter. Some people just weren’t meant for the good life. You got used to being treated like an object. You understood that sex was just another thing to get what you wanted. I never wanted to be that person, but it was crazy what became right and convenient when you were desperate.
After the hot shower I sat on the bathroom floor dripping wet. I had forgotten to grab the towel in the closet in my escape from Ben.
To pass the time I stacked stray beer caps one after another waiting for Wanda, waiting to hear her voice so I could come out. There was no way I was prepared to fight off three men. I didn’t care how tough I could be, some things were not always possible.
When I finally heard her voice in the hallway I stood up. I stared at my naked frame in the foggy mirror. Wondering what it was that she thought was so beautiful about me. Why she always compared me to a piece of art. I barely had a chest, not that I minded much. Aunt Wanda always complained how much her large chest gave her back aches.
My hair was long and brown. With a faint hint of red from the time I tried for light auburn.
They said the eyes were the window into your soul, if that was true my windows showed how dull and lifeless mine was. Mine were light gray, with hints of brown. I swore my dad was a demon, they always said I had his eyes. My mother and Wanda had the clearest blue eyes that went well with every part of them.
My body was long and thin. It had a mind of its own. I was awkward and fidgety most of the time. But Wanda said that was another quality that made me such a catch. She said men liked a girl who wasn’t comfortable in her own skin.
I envied anyone with a tan. Tan was a foreign word to my body. I was pale.
I pulled on my jeans and tank top and headed into the hallway. I kept my eyes on the ground not wanting to even look at the idiot. Who was he to think he could take advantage? If I hadn’t been so worried about stirring up trouble I would have socked him a good one.
I tossed our suitcase next to Wanda. She was lying on top of Jon on the sofa. She didn’t even notice. I headed out the front door, the night air hitting me in the face as I hurried down the steps into their poor excuse for a lawn.
I ran a hand through my damp hair. I felt saved by the night. The moon glowed in the sky. I stared at it, not sure what to do. I was stuck, once again.
There was a loud screech, the door banged against the house and slammed shut. My body tensed. I prayed it was Wanda.
“What, you don’t want to finish what we had going on back there? Ben asked.
I backed away.
“Just go away,” I said.
He came closer, grabbing me by the arm. “Where is it?”
I hesitated; surprised he knew I stole his money. I didn’t know what to say. I just wanted everything going on to end already.
He was as fast as lightning, in seconds my hair was wrapped around his fist. He knocked me to the ground. I groaned, the wind knocked out of me. His body crashed on top of mine. He checked my front pocket searching for the money. I struggled to get out from underneath him. He wasn’t that big of a guy.
Finally I got one hand free. I hit him in the face, pulling at his hair. I screamed, trying to break free.
“Just give me the money and I will let you go.” He pulled me by the shirt.
“Get off of me!” He had strength on his si
de that on my best day I didn’t—strength and beer.
I flinched as his hand crashed into my face. He had slapped me. Tears stung my eyes. I screamed again, and he slapped me once more. His hand trying to cover my mouth, I instantly bit down on his hand. He howled in pain as I clamped down even harder.
“Ben, go back in the house.” Someone called from the darkness with that same familiar twang. The moonlight finally revealed him as he approached. Ben looked at me one last time before he gave up. He pushed me away from him and went back inside.
I swore he was an angel. His blonde shaggy hair glistened in the moonlight. I stared at him from my knees, touching my face for signs of blood before accepting his help off the ground.
“I don’t know what happened. But I am sorry, “he said, brushing the grass from my clothes.
“It’s fine. I’m sorry,” I stammered, searching for someplace to hide from Ben. He watched, crossing his arms as I headed toward our car.
“Where you two heading? Is that woman your with a drug addict?”
I leaned against our car. “She uses drugs on occasions, but it’s not a problem,” I said as I always did.
He nodded.
“Thanks very much. You didn’t have to help.” I knew he probably thought I was a thief.
“What. Are you kidding? You were never going to get away from Ben. He was a wrestler in high school,” he said, a small smile on his face. I studied his expression trying to figure out the meaning behind it.
“Well, thanks.” I looked away.
“I don’t care if you took his money. Are you in trouble? I mean what’s the deal with the two of you? Are you gypsies or something?” he asked, genuinely interested.
I felt a little frazzled.
“She likes to travel. We’re headed for California.” I always wondered how long before that actually happened. It had been the goal for years. But something always sent our plans right out the window.
“Do you like to travel?” he asked.
“I’m used to it. It’s what we do.” I shrugged. I stared at my dirty feet, wishing this night would come to a quick end so we could just be on our way.
“You seem sad.” I always looked sad it was a natural response anymore.
“No, just tired. I really was hoping to get some sleep, but I guess not anymore.”
“I live next door, come on,” he said with a wave, heading across the grass. I followed reluctantly. It was a matter of what was worse, being next door to a drunken drug dealer or a stranger that could be just as crazy.
“You can sleep on the couch. I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets.” He headed out of the living room. It was a lot neater in his home versus next door.
I followed him down the hallway, coming to a stop behind him as he pulled a blanket from his closet.
“Whoa, you scared me. Are you ok?” He studied me nervously.
“I don’t care if you’re expecting a favor.” I told him, waiting for him to touch me.
“What? Oh...no...No…no. Honestly I just want you to be able to sleep. I’m not like that. I have a girlfriend.” He hurried past me.
I let out a huge sigh of relief. At least now I knew he wasn’t going to try anything. Sometimes you had to make sacrifices and look like a fool to see that there was no harm in people.
I climbed onto his couch, my body thankful for the comfort, the paranoia and fear melted away. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and drew my knees to my stomach.
“Goodnight,” he said turning off the lamp.
The room fell silent. I drifted off to sleep hoping for a better tomorrow.
June 8th
It was morning. The sun was high. Its bright light beamed through the small neighborhood.
I sat in the grass behind our car peeling a long twig apart. Waiting on Aunt Wanda, and hoping she would get up so we could go soon.
My stomach growled. So loud I could hear its cries every time. There was no way I would go back inside that house after everything that happened. I had almost made up my mind to walk down the road to find food with the stolen cash. I gave Aunt Wanda ten more minutes and then I was going to do just that. It was going to be a long walk with no shoes on.
The man from last night came out of his house, his front door screeching and then falling back with a soft thud. I watched him stretch. He raised his arms above his head really looking like he was taking in the day.
I dropped the stick as soon as I realized he was coming over.
“Good morning, your still here.” He rested his hand on our rusty car. And it didn’t seem to bother him in the least. It didn’t seem he was bothered by anything at all I noticed.
“Morning,” I said back. I stood, feeling a bit odd sitting on the ground as he talked to me. I was sure he felt bad enough for me already.
“Have you eaten?” he asked. He tilted his head, his eyebrows lifting just the slightest as he waited for a reply.
“I’m waiting on Wanda,” I told him. I ran my hands against my shorts brushing the grass and dirt away. As I looked at him more closely I realized he was cute, the kind of guy who could be even cuter if he only tried a little more, a natural blonde with a beautiful mouth and perfect simple features. I liked the way his eyes were so full of life and warm. I didn’t see that all that often.
“What did you say your name was?” he asked, leaning against the car. He crossed his arms and batted at the grass with his foot.
“Kendall, you didn’t say what yours was either.”
“Ryan Bridger, I’ve lived here my entire life. I do construction. Can’t say that I am the best of friends with Jon and his boys, but sometimes I get bored,” he said, offering more information then I needed.
“Nice to meet you, Ryan.” I smiled a little as I met up with his eyes. He smiled back.
“Are you hungry? I can fix breakfast. I hate to see you out here hungry,” he said. “Because I think we both know Wanda ain’t coming out of that house anytime soon.”
I nodded in agreement. We walked to his house together going inside.
Ryan headed for the kitchen, rifling the cupboards for pots and pans. It was obvious he didn’t do much cooking. I was starting to wonder if he even had a girlfriend.
He cleared the newspapers off the kitchen table and hurried to toss his jacket from the chair. “Have a seat,” he said.
He started cracking eggs in a bowl, looking up every couple seconds to make sure I was still with him.
“Where are you from?”
I thought about his question, debating on the truth or a lie. Lies were easier and left no trail behind me. Sometimes when I felt someone deserved the truth I would splurge and give up a few details about myself.
“South Carolina,” I answered.
He nodded not knowing if that were the truth or a lie.
“How did you end up with your aunt? Where’s your folks?” he pressed.
“Um, just one of those things that happen, my mom died. And I don’t know my father. I mean… I know his name, but never met him,” I said.
I ran my tongue over my teeth trying to figure out what was the truth anymore. My mom the last I knew was alive and well, probably lying with a man as I sat in this man’s kitchen.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“My mom has another daughter. But she was taken away from her. Years before I was born,” I said.
And this was true. Little miss Joy-Ann, my mom, went and got herself knocked up by the principal of her high school. She was a freshman, and he was finding any and every reason to see her in his office. Eventually Mom did what she always did and slept with him. She never imagined that she would end up pregnant. Being barely fifteen with a kid, well that wasn’t going to work out for her. Mom had no parents to help support the kid. And the principal wanted nothing to do with her. So my sister, Coral, was taken away from her once the principal found a way to get her suspended from school.
Mom always said she never broke into the school and that she di
dn’t steal from the school either. But it was coming from her. I didn’t believe her one way or another. I just knew that Coral was saved all because of it.
Ryan carried the two plates to the table. He sat down two forks. He did his best to dish out scrambled eggs. I wasn’t going to complain about the food, I hadn’t eaten since the morning before.
We ate and chatted. Things were a bit quiet; I was never good at conversation.
I finally stood up, dreading the idea that I had to go back outside and wait for Wanda some more. “Do you mind if I hang out until Wanda is ready to leave?”
He looked relieved. “Of course. Watch TV, take a nap, whatever, I don’t mind at all.”
He sat down next to me on the couch. He seemed happy to help me out.
“What are some of your favorite shows?” he asked, flipping through the channels.
“I’ve always liked actions movies. And old school gore,” I laughed.
He nodded and then looked at me with an expression I had seen before. I knew what it meant. It was as obvious as the morning sky shining outside. I moved closer, my hands pressing into the couch cushion on either side of his legs. He acted a bit shocked.
“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said, his kiss said otherwise though as his lips met mine.
“I don’t care what kind of guy you are. You know nothing about me or who I am,” I told him, I guided his hands to my chest, holding them there so he could feel my heart pounding as I waited for him to give in.
It was instant. His hands attacked me, his fingers glided down my ribcage. I pulled my shirt over my head. He tossed it on the floor. I was enjoying everything a lot more than I thought I would.
I laid back on the couch, wrapping my legs around his waist and worked on getting him out of his jeans. He was in a hurry to get to the next step. I wondered how often he had sex. Something about the way he acted made him seem a little too eager.
I slid my fingers through his hair. Breaking the kiss, he wasn’t a bad kisser, it was just too personal. He was a nice guy and I knew I was not a nice girl. Guys like him kissed nice girls the way he was kissing me.