Pearl

by Weisman, C. E.

  She needed Ben. But not in the way she initially thought. She loved him. She wanted his arms around her, for him to kiss her as he did on the dance floor, as he did on the hill the first time she surrendered to him. She ached for him, and desperately wanted to rush to his side, to crawl beneath the sheets with him, and to live happily in denial of what she must face.

  And she knew she must face it alone.

  Her love for Ben meant she could not drag him into her mess. She had already hurt him. She had turned away from him time and again, rejecting his unconditional love for a monster’s touch. She was despicable. And he deserved better.

  Pearl planted a kiss between Molly’s eyes. Her knees trembled as she stood, closing the stall door behind her.

  She didn’t look back as she walked from the stable and away from Ben Murray.

  CHAPTER 23

  She kept her eyes straight on the road. She tricked her mind into thinking that the rustle in the brush was only the wind and not a wild animal. She dared not believe someone was hiding in the trees, watching her. It was a crazy concept to be in the path of darkness and have nothing to occupy her but her vivid imagination.

  She counted the white lines in the street and kept her ears open for cars. There wasn’t much activity in the country at three in the morning, but a couple of times she jumped into the ditch when she saw headlights. She swore it was Roy, and she cowered in the dirt, fearful he would see her and throw her in the back of the truck and take her home. But even worse, she thought it was Ben, because Ben she would not be able to turn herself away from.

  She walked, until her feet ached and blisters formed on the inside of her stiletto sandals. She shivered in the brisk chill, thankful it wasn’t raining, but regretful she hadn’t bothered to grab a sweater. Vernie’s oversized T-shirt didn’t seem as appropriate as it had when she first put it on.

  The T-shirt was not all that caused her shame. She shuddered when she thought of earlier that night, of the scene at Sammie’s wedding when Roy dragged her out of the reception. Sammie had never been anything but good to Pearl, and here she’d gone and ruined her night. And poor Ben being scuffled by backwoods rednecks. What disgrace she had brought to people who had only cared for her.

  How did she get here? Who had she become during this last year as she lived a life so foreign to the one she had always known? How did she let things get so bad between her and Roy? Would they have stayed the same if they’d never left Arizona? If she’d never seen her mother cross the field, would she have loved a man like Roy?

  And where was her mother?

  Pearl had spent her adolescent life avoiding that question…and not out of ignorance. She had told herself from the very beginning that she would not allow herself to miss her mother. If her mother’s dreams were to be pursued, then Pearl could accept it, even if that meant she wasn’t included.

  But that wasn’t the truth, and she had always known it.

  The truth was, she didn’t allow herself to miss her mother because there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She was her mother’s burden. Her mother chose to leave her. Chose. She walked out the door and didn’t look back, even as Pearl stood in the window and begged for her to turn around. She said the words. She said them out loud. She would never know if her mother heard her. Her mother desired another life. If Pearl had taken the time to miss her, then the rage she’d pushed down would seep through her pores and destroy her. And she couldn’t let that happen.

  Now Pearl knew it was all a lie. She was determined to find out who had started the tale, and end it. Not just for her, but for Billy, too. Billy deserved to know the truth. He was still the child. And though he would never remember Lucy Waters, he felt the gaping hole of her absence. Her mother could abandon her, but Pearl could no longer stand by the fact that she walked out on Billy. She would find her mother, confront her, and then learn to let go of her anger and stop being afraid of the tormenting dreams that haunted her. She could accept that it was okay not to love her mother in order to move on with her life. Then maybe she could love someone as good as Ben. Maybe she could learn that she didn’t deserve to be with a monster. Because loving someone who didn’t love you was all she’d ever known how to do.

  It was still dark, but only a couple hours before dawn when she came to a twenty-four-hour restaurant just on the outskirts of town. She was near the freeway, an area she had never crossed before. Large dusty semi trucks covered the lot, some filled with men snoozing in the front seats, while others sat lifeless and blank, as though they had nowhere to be.

  Pearl walked into the diner, her eyes squinting from the bright light. Men at the counter turned to gawk at her, most likely thinking she was there to make a dollar. She covered her exposed body with her hands, shying away from their stares. A vivid redhead not much younger than Vernie, and just as plump, wearing a waitress uniform stepped from behind the cash register. She looked Pearl up and down, her disgusted look turning softer as she saw Pearl’s fear.

  She smiled slightly, her voice soothing as she said, “You look like you could use some new shoes.”

  Pearl looked down at her high heels covered in bloodstains and winced. “I don’t suppose you have any?”

  The waitress shrugged. “Don’t usually keep a spare, but I’m happy to get some for you. I have a friend that lives just two blocks down.”

  “I don’t need you to go through the trouble…”

  “Honey, I bet you’ve seen trouble. I think I can take it from here.”

  Pearl smiled at the woman. “That’s very kind of you.”

  The woman took Pearl by the arm. “Come, sit, you can eat a little something while you wait.” She guided Pearl to a booth away from the prying men’s eyes.

  “I only got minestrone and split pea soup going. Yesterday’s special, but still has a good bite. I can get you something else, but then you’d have to wait on old Merle to get behind the grill. That could be a little while. Or I got pie. What would you like?”

  “Minestrone is fine,” Pearl said.

  The waitress returned with a hot cup of soup and a glass of icy soda. “You don’t look old enough to drink, otherwise I’d’ve brought you something stiffer,” she said. “Mick!” she called out behind her shoulder. A burly bearded man turned from the counter. He was older than the other few men around him. Though he was stiff and gruff, his eyes were kind.

  “Keep an eye on this girl for me,” the waitress said. “Keep those filthy boys off her while I run down to Shari’s.”

  Mick nodded, accepting the challenge, and the waitress took off out the door. Pearl breathed in and inhaled the scent of the steaming soup. It had been too long since she had seen food, and the trek here alone had worked up her appetite. Mick kept a respectful eye on her as she ate, but even more he kept his gaze on the drooling pigs around him.

  The waitress returned, a plastic bag in her hand, just as Pearl finished her last bite.

  Pearl hesitated before taking the clothes.

  “I won’t be able to return these,” she said.

  “Oh, honey, please.” The waitress snorted as she laughed. “Shari’s been trying to fit into these clothes for nearly twenty-five years. If it hasn’t happened yet, it ain’t gonna. She won’t even know they’re missing.”

  Pearl nodded her thanks, unable to speak the words for fear of the tears hiding just behind her eyes. She walked to the ladies’ room, tugging at the back of her shirt dress as she walked by the men.

  The clothes were too big, but fit much better than what she was wearing. The faded Oregon sweatshirt hung to her thighs, and the sleeves she had to roll up to her elbows. The black sweat pants were baggy, but a blessing, as her legs shivered. She rolled the top twice, bringing the seam of the bottom to the top of her foot. The shoes were flip-flop sandals, and although two sizes too big, were still usable without having to worry about tripping over them.

  “Much better,” the waitress said. “Now you fit in, and look a hell of a lot better than S
hari.”

  Pearl pulled out the cash she had stuffed in her bra. “What do I owe you?”

  “Oh, honey, your money is no good here,” the waitress said, shutting Pearl’s palm. “Now, can I call you a cab? Where ya going?”

  Pearl dropped her gaze. She felt the men’s stares burning down her back.

  “Arizona.”

  The waitress whistled. “Don’t think a cab will get you there, and you’ll have to go four towns over before you find a bus station. Anywhere else?”

  Pearl shook her head.

  “I’ll take you,” one of the men piped in. Pearl looked over to the sleazy trucker with his tongue dangling out of his chapped lips. “Anywhere you want to go.” He winked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

  The waitress howled with laughter. “You must be thinking crazy, Jeffery, if you think I’m gonna let this girl get anywhere near your rig.”

  Jeffery got up from his seat. He was shorter than most of the men still sitting.

  “What’s wrong with my rig?” he sneered.

  “Too many young girls go in to your rig and come out all disfigured and lopsided,” the waitress snickered. “Now sit down, you old pervert.”

  The man frowned, his face turning red as he sat back in his seat. “It’s not like she’s married.”

  Pearl ran her finger over the indentation from her missing ring.

  “Of course she’s not married.” The waitress rolled her eyes at the absurdity. “She’s just a baby.”

  “I’m heading to Nevada,” the husky man named Mick said. “Can take you as far as Carson City.”

  Pearl looked to the waitress to gauge her reaction. The waitress smiled at her with assurance.

  “If it’s not too much trouble,” Pearl said. “I can pay you.”

  The man took a sip from his thick black coffee. “Like Marla said, your money ain’t good here.” He set his cup down and tossed three one-dollar bills on the table. “Heading there with or without you, but I’m guessing we better get going.” He nodded his thanks to Marla, who returned a gracious smile. Pearl wondered if there was more than warm coffee and pie in her service with Mick.

  Pearl jumped in line behind him as he stalked out the door. The climb up the semi was steep, but the engine roared not much louder than her Thunderbird. Mick tossed the leftover fast food wrappers and empty coffee mugs to the floor, giving her more room to spread out and settle in for the long trip. The cab smelled of dirty socks and stale cigarettes. The seats were frayed and hard, but the warmth of the heater prickled her frozen toes. She closed her arms over her chest and nestled against the door. Mick looked over at her huddled in the corner and chuckled.

  “You haven’t even told me your name,” he said.

  “Pearl,” she said.

  “Pearl,” he repeated. “My grandmother’s name was Pearl, always thought it was a beautiful name.”

  She gave a slight smile, seeing his reflection in her window.

  “Where are you heading to in Arizona, Pearl?” he asked.

  “Tucson.”

  “You’re a girl of short responses. This will be a long trip.”

  She turned to meet his kind expression. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a really long day. I’m exhausted.”

  He nodded. “No mind, you rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  She fell asleep listening to the sound of his musical hums. She slept a dreamless sleep and woke to a cramp in her neck that was hard to shake out. She opened her eyes to the brightness of day.

  “You were tired.” Mick chuckled. “Slept through two states and lunch.” He tossed a bag her way. “I saved you a sandwich.”

  She smiled, the wakefulness not quite catching up with her. “Thank you.”

  Soft rock music played through the stereo, loud enough for Pearl to catch the melody, but quiet enough to not have disturbed her sleep.

  Mick lit a smoke, passing her the pack. “Want one?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good,” he said, placing the pack on the top of the dashboard. “Best to not even get started.”

  She opened the bag to see a wrapped egg salad sandwich and orange. She was hungry, but her stomach was too anxious to eat. She closed the bag and stretched her legs.

  “Just a couple more hours to Carson City,” he said.

  “You do this often?” she asked.

  “Four times a week. I know this road better than I know the one from the bar to my old house.”

  “Is that where you live?”

  “The bar?” He laughed. “Possibly.”

  “No, Carson City.”

  He looked at her and smirked. “Look who’s up for questions now.”

  She smiled. “It’s a long trip.”

  “I live on the road.”

  “But when you’re not on the road,” she pushed.

  “Then I bounce around. Sometimes I stay at my mama’s in Reno, sometimes I’m at Marla’s for a night. I go where I can.” He sighed at her suspicious look. “Wife kicked me out a few years ago. It’s for the best, but not seeing the kids is the killer. Got two at home, but the ex won’t let me see them but a couple times a month.”

  “I’m sorry,” Pearl mumbled.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry for me, too. But I’m more sorry for them. What kind of woman keeps a man from his kids?” He took a drag from his cigarette. “Kids need their daddy, just as much as their mamas. She’s a cruel woman who thinks she can do it all on her own.”

  Pearl looked out the window.

  “You got family?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I hope you appreciate your mama and daddy, girl,” he said with an intensity that made Pearl turn her head back to him. He stared straight ahead, his eyes never leaving the road. “’Cause let me tell you. It’s a hell of a lot harder being on this side of the fence, loving your kids so hard it tears your guts to shreds. Kids should know that.”

  The music changed, bringing a tune to her ears she didn’t know. But the voice that came through the speakers was all too recognizable. She caught her breath, and Mick noticed.

  “Not a Joni Mitchell fan?”

  She shook her head. “Mind if we turn the station?”

  He shrugged and turned the dial.

  They drove the last hour in a clipped silence. He tried at times to ask her of her journey, and yet she continued to respond in short phrases that eventually made him quit asking.

  It was well into the afternoon when they pulled into Carson City. Mick was kind enough to drop her off at the bus station.

  “You sure I can’t pay you?” she asked.

  “You just get yourself home safe,” he answered. She watched him pull away as she stood in the sweltering Nevada heat, wearing a sweatshirt and matching pants. Her only possession was a sandwich bag and a couple hundred dollars in cash. She paid for her ticket to Phoenix. There was an hour to kill before the bus departed. She stood in the corner, blending in with the crowd. No one paid her any mind. She was only one of them. On the bus she took a seat by an aged woman who smelled of minted rice and barley. Pearl fought her way through the egg sandwich, grateful for its strong odor. As the night came on, her mind drifted from the last twenty-four hours to the last eighteen years. She dozed off, imagining Roy waking from his hangover and wondering why his wife was late with breakfast. She pictured Ben showing up at a distraught Vernie’s house. She wouldn’t let her mind drift to the pain he must have felt when he realized she never arrived at his place as Vernie and Darren expected. Then she contemplated her father and Billy, and what she would be returning home to. What had life dealt them since she was gone? How foolish of her to never check in. It had never occurred to her until this moment that something could have happened to them, and she would have had no way to find out.

  She watched the lights fly by as cars whistled their way down the freeway. It was only a year ago when she traveled this road with so many ambitions ahead of her. She had entered Oregon a woman with one solitary suitcase to carry
her whole life. As she now passed the Arizona sign, she realized she had no baggage, nothing of substance to offer.

  She glanced at the seat beside her and the woman’s watch as a brightly lit truck passed their side.

  It was three minutes past midnight, making today her nineteenth birthday.

  They came to a stop in Phoenix, and after a few more hours of waiting in a desolate room, Pearl jumped on a smaller, less packed bus to Tucson.

  It was close to dawn when she arrived in her hometown, just over twenty-four hours after she had left the diner with Mick. She took in a deep breath, tasting the dry desert air. She expected to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, but instead she felt a pang for the hills and fluffy green trees back in Oregon. And the love she had left behind her.

  She hitched a ride with a stranger who knew her part of town. She was past the point of caring about her dignity and craved only the warmth of her old bed. The man dropped her at the bottom of her short hill, just around the bend. The rich Arizona sun was creeping up behind the rocky canyons, and her father was sitting on the front patio with a cup of coffee, enjoying the view.

  Jack Waters set his mug down as he caught sight of the figure walking up the field. He stood, his brow creased as she crept in like a shadow. She heard his sharp inhalation as he finally recognized her tattered form.

  He rushed to the edge of the patio as she faltered up the small patch of green grass he kept manicured. She was exhausted, and starving, and worn to the brink by more than just the long road trip home. She was breathless and bleak and could hardly hold herself up. But she had made it, and she had done it on her own.

  “Christ,” her father said, coming to her aid. He grabbed her by the waist and held her up. She fell into him, her matted hair sticking to her forehead as it pressed against his shoulder.

  She wept softly, surrendering to his strong hold.

  “All right, now,” her father soothed.

  She wiped away her tears and pulled back. She was too ashamed to meet his eyes. She stared at the ground as his hands reached from behind her back to her hands. She felt his flinch as his fingers grasped her palm.