by Gary Lewis
"You still ain't changed out the brake pads on that damn thing have you?" a hoarse voice sounded from the other end of the trailer. "Better mean you'll have it done by sunset. I can still kick your fuckin' ass."
"Be back in a while," Vance said, continuing out the door while his father was still talking. Anything to get out of there before the stench of stale cigarettes and cheap beer accompanied the sound of that voice, he thought as he slammed the heavy, dented door of his dark red pickup.
Without a glance in the rearview, Vance pulled out of the rundown trailer park where rusty, metal roofs covered torn panels of siding. Vehicles jacked up on cinder blocks awaited the day they would be repaired. A ten-foot-high metal fence lined the front entrance of the park as if to guard the world from the garbage within. As he passed the overflowing dumpster before turning onto the road, the sharp stench of the nearby chicken houses masked whatever odor the trash might have contained. "Chicken shit," he said before taking a right onto the cracked pavement. "Just like everyone here."
His six liter engine rumbled down the narrow country roads as he made his escape from home. Eventually, the broken-down mobile homes that stood between miles of forest were replaced by farmhouses, beautiful two-story homes and country getaways owned by the wealthy. As the streets became wider to brightly painted lanes, apartments clustered around shops along Central Avenue until the bright yellow sign of the Sunset Diner rose above the surrounding buildings.
After arriving, Vance stepped through the large, glass double-door entrance of the restaurant. The scent of bacon and eggs filled the lobby among the elderly regulars that congregated every morning. They discussed politics and weather as if they ever really changed. The remodeled, light brown walls combined with rough, stone floor tiles to give a relaxing, earthy feel to the place. It was the kind of establishment that settled you in with comfort before swallowing you whole. The next thing you know, you're there all the time while the hours outside pass you by, turning into days, weeks, years and then you're old. Not unlike Pine Bluff itself, Vance thought to himself. Fuckin’ death trap.
He walked through the now quiet lobby with his chest out, shoulders and head tilted back as if he owned the place and as far as anyone was concerned he might as well. Tony was the exception, sitting calmly at the bar while he studied the schedule sheet.
"Hey Tony, your boy David still trying to get in on my girl?" Vance asked with a half grin. "Hey. I'm talkin’ to you," he said with a shoulder bump to Tony who was still flipping through the pages of his schedule as if Vance didn't exist.
"Oh. Hi, Vance," Tony said with a bright smile that stretched across his chubby cheeks. "Can you believe they got me pulling two doubles this weekend?"
Vance's hatred for the way Tony shrugged him off so casually burned in his face. "Sure, man." He smirked as he leaned his elbow onto the bar to look Tony in the eyes. "You seen Jan anywhere?"
"Oh yeah,” Tony said. “She posted pics of her out swimming with her new friends earlier. Didn't you see?"
Vance pulled out his phone as he tried connecting. "Oh yeah. She told me, man,” he said, cursing the tediously slow wifi of the diner under his breath. “I just forgot."
Tony choked up laughing and grabbed Vance's shoulder with a tugging shake. "I'm kidding,” he said, cuffing his fist over his fat lips that still curled with a grin. “Sarah was gonna pick her up after we left the cliffs last night. I think they had a sleepover."
"Funny," Vance said, staring past the bar. "Hey. Can I get some service around here?" he asked loudly beyond the vacant counter, addressing the kitchen itself.
"Don't sweat it, bro. It's not time to go in yet, but I got it," Tony said while tying on his black grill apron. "You getting the usual?"
"That's what's up," Vance said. "But chicken instead of ham."
"Shouldn't you wait 'til after football season to go lean?" Tony asked with a smile.
"Shut up. I know what the hell I'm doing." Vance shook his head as he turned from the counter to look over the lobby. It was now filled with hushed whispers and glances in his direction that he quickly shut down with a stare, one at a time, as he methodically scanned the seated faces.
The only banter that still carried on through the room came from the southern slurs in the far corner booths, a world apart from the senior citizen section that wrapped tables of withering townsfolk around front. "And our goddamn taxes ain't doin' nothin' about it," one of the voices rose above the others. "I lost twelve head of cattle. Ain't nobody payin' me a damn dime for 'em," an obese, balding, middle aged man said as he stood to his feet to slam his cup onto the table. His long, scraggly, graying beard moved up and down with his jaw as he continued complaining to the others seated around him, most dressed in coveralls, camo and dirty jeans. "First time that thing steps foot on my property, I've got two shells with its name on 'em," said another.
"Here you go, buddy." Tony's voice came from just behind Vance's shoulder as the sound of a paper bag plopped onto the bar.
Vance pressed his eyebrows together and clenched his jaw before thinking aloud. "Roy and Willy. Richest pieces of shit in Pine County. Them and their Big Buck Hunting Club. All here."
"The Perkins brothers?" Tony asked, still hovering behind. "Must be doing something right. They own half the farmland in Pine Bluff."
He turned to Tony, now wiping down the shining wet counter. "Ran half the people in town off their land, you mean." Vance's voice grew deeper as he pressed his fist onto the spot where Tony just cleaned. "And selling them off to the highest bidder." Vance tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he continued. "Piece by piece, the little rock you live under is being sold away."
Tony unfolded the damp, white bar towel, refolding onto a fresh side as he looked up. "Vance, I really don't think your pops put a lot into saving the property." His thick arm reached across the bar to slap his hand onto Vance's shoulder, clasping it in a tight grip while staring him in the face with compassionate eyes. "Everyone knows he ain't been right since your mom..." Tony's voice grew quieter as it fell to a dead pause.
Vance pulled away. "Not even what I was talking about."
Tony smiled as he leaned his head back and opened his arms into a shrug. "What is it then?"
"Tell me, how are you goin’ to save up for that culinary school, wasting your days away in here?" Vance asked.
"Vance, I'm gonna be a master chef and open my own kitchen right out here." Tony spread his hand across the direction of the glass windows that offered a perfect view of the street. "Tony's. And you're gonna eat there."
"This shit hole will be a distant memory by then," Vance said, turning away from the bar.
"Later, Vance," Tony said with his usual huge grin.
"See you around," Vance said over his shoulder and as he walked out the door.
The bright morning sunlight gleamed from the windshields of the parked cars crowding the concrete walkway just beside the entrance. Vance cuffed his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding glare as he stepped toward his red pickup parked across the hot, freshly paved lot.
He snapped his sight toward the approaching beggar, wearing a brown, tattered t-shirt and filthy jeans littered in last week's filth. It was a stench he didn't care to be burdened with and it seemed that the old man's condition hadn't blinded his sense of when to silently back away.
###
After arriving home, Vance opened the squeaky front door slowly and walked inside. He stepped as lightly as possible, avoiding every creaky spot on the floor as he again turned the doorknob before silently pushing it closed. It had become a routine.
He walked into the living room, carrying a bag filled with egg biscuits and grilled chicken before turning on the television and taking his place on the couch. Vance quickly unwrapped a biscuit, ready to cram it into his face, until something caught his attention. It was a headline on the news. A grin smirked across his face when he saw what it said.
#Janice#
The carport canopy off
ered the perfect shelter from the glaring morning light as Janice sat on the concrete steps and scrolled through her messages.
"Sorry I didn't get back to you last night. I got sick. We still doing pictures next weekend?" from Sarah. Thoughts of her camera and long forgotten photography shoots flooded her mind. It had always been a safe space for her. She could be a part of things while remaining on the sidelines. But it eventually became a way to immortalize fleeting moments of joy and transform them into a place to reminisce in melancholy about the possibilities that had long since passed away.
Her neighborhood was dead quiet. Matching, medium two-story houses, most with empty garages and carports, lined the street. A ghost town. Janice kicked a tiny piece of gravel across the polished concrete floor of the carport. Wish I had my own car. Her eyes lifted to the distant peak of Bluff Mountain. But where would I go? My boyfriend is too ashamed of where he lives to have anyone over and everyone else is always busy.
Janice rose to her feet and opened the door, only to pause for a moment. The jingle of a collar was still missing and her search for a little, white ball of fluff to come prancing toward her was in vain. As she entered the kitchen, Janice noted that the sink was clean, garbage had been taken out and dishes were put up. Then the familiar sound of a car came from the driveway. This time it wasn't David or Vance. She looked to see her mother's silver minivan come to an abrupt stop outside.
She was still wearing her dirty factory uniform and her curly, dark brown, shoulder length hair was unusually tousled to the side as she briskly walked up the stairs before rushing in through the carport doorway into the kitchen. Her eyes softened into relief as they met Janice's and she reached out, wrapping her in her arms. "I'm so glad you didn't go to the cliffs yesterday," she began.
#Tony#
It was business as usual at the Sunset Diner where Tony sat comfortably in the break room, scrolling through social media on his phone while he waited to clock in for his shift.
"Teen mauled in animal attack?" he said aloud as he read the news headline.
"Hey Sam, come check this out!" His elderly boss walked the short distance from the office to lean in, squinting his wrinkled eyelids as he looked at Tony's phone.
"Oh... that's a nasty one." Sam's hair was white with years of owning and operating the diner, a testament to his knowledge of Pine Bluff and its history. It was clear by the surprise on his face as they looked at footage of the blood stained dirt that the town hadn't seen anything like this in a very long time.
"Haven't I seen you in here with that one before?" asked Sam.
"Yeah," Tony said in a somber tone as he stared at his phone and the disbelief washed from his fingers into his face. “I know him, alright.”
As Tony was clocking in, the lobby door swung open to Sarah rushing toward the bar. Her dark makeup was ruined from streams of tears that had run themselves dry.
Tony stepped around the counter and she pressed her face into his shoulder as he gently squeezed his arm around her upper back with a slow pat, setting his other hand on top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Sarah."
Sarah's cries eventually settled as she shifted her weight back to her own feet. Tony walked her over to a table in the corner. "Have a seat,” he said. “Order whatever you want. It's on me.” Tony pointed his thumb back to the front counter. "I gotta clock in, but just wait here. Everything is gonna be okay."
Tony got out his phone, hesitating for a moment before making the call. "Hey, little bro, I have some bad news," he said. "It's Brad. Brad was attacked by an animal last night near the cliffs." A pause of silence filled his ear before he continued. "He's dead."
"It was whatever mauled all those cattle yesterday, wasn't it?" David's broken voice crackled over the phone.
"I was thinking the same thing, little bro. I was thinking the same thing."
Tony tried to keep David on the line as he struggled to find the right way to ask. "Listen. Sarah is here and she's really tore up about all this. I know y'all had a lot of differences since things didn't work out a while back.” He hesitated a moment before asking. “But she really needs someone to make sure she's okay right now."
"You don't have to ask,” David said. “I'm on my way.”
Tony got to work scraping the grill as he reflected on his past experiences with Brad. "You weren't the brightest bulb and you definitely had your flaws," he muttered to himself, sighing heavily as he set the grill scraper aside. "But that's not what did you in, was it? Wrong place. Wrong time." He lowered his eyes to the hot, black surface that sizzled along with his thoughts. Maybe it was something else that was in the wrong place and time. Something that just couldn't belong.
#Sarah#
Some time went by along with the last hundred or so cars that Sarah watched pass the diner as morning rush hour peaked and Central Avenue's four lanes filled with traffic. She dropped her eyes to stare into the shine of the polished hardwood table, wondering if she even felt like eating. As much as she hated letting anyone see her in such a broken and vulnerable state, today was justified.
"You can't do that in here," said a chubby red headed waitress in a scolding tone.
Sarah waved away wisps of her cigarette smoke. "I don't have the patience for your shit today."
"Rules are rules, young lady. I don't make 'em and you don't break 'em."
Sarah rolled her eyes and stood up. "I'll show you break."
The glass double-doors of the entrance opened and David quickly strode across the lobby toward them. "I'm sorry. She's had a really bad day," he said. "I've got this. Come on, Sarah." The pressure of his hand against her shoulder blade guided her with a slight push as he escorted her out of the building.
Sarah shrugged away from him as they stepped outside. "I don't need your help. I can take care of myself."
"Sure seemed that way," David said before stopping at the driver side of his car to look across at her. "Look, I'm just here for you. You shouldn't be alone right now."
Sarah rolled her eyes and reluctantly walked over to the passenger side. "You know, I'm okay. It's not like I was in love with him or anything," she said as she stomped out her cigarette on the rough pavement and got into the car with him.
As David drove, Sarah watched his morning hair disaster blow around. His elbow laid propped against the open window of his car door. Even his shirt was inside out. He didn't seem himself today. Or maybe… he finally is.
"What is it?" David asked as Sarah suddenly dropped the expression she hadn't noticed she was wearing.
"What?” she asked. “Can't a girl smile?” Sarah turned her face away to look out the window. “Just because you're a mess over everything, doesn't mean that I have to be." She reached in her pack to slide out another cigarette before glancing at David and putting it back.
###
Knee-high grass overshadowed the bumpy driveway as David maneuvered around holes, leading up to the small, rundown exterior of the two-bedroom house that Sarah called home. The surrounding woods stretched to reclaim it as vines covered the walls and porch railings, snaking along the pale blue paint that had cracked and peeled long ago.
Just behind her, David took one cautious step after another up the creaking boards as he walked her to the door.
"You're coming in," she told David.
"I don't know,” he said. “I couldn't sleep last night and I'm exhausted."
Sarah clenched her fist. "Me neither. I was... Let's see..." She lifted her finger in the air. "Oh yeah! I was waiting for Brad to answer his phone while he was getting torn apart." She knew that he couldn't possibly have an excuse to outweigh hers.
"Ok. I'm sorry, Sarah,” he said as stepped inside. “But I've got to call someone about something important in a few minutes."
"Keeping it to yourself?" she asked. "Like everyone doesn't know what it's about."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Sarah replied with an eye roll as she turned on the television and sat in the recliner.
My place is the exact opposite of me.
She watched David sink into her comfortable couch and kick off his dirty shoes to lay down while she tried to think about what to say. But the only thing that drew her attention was his lack of it. He seemed to have misplaced his usual bag of uptight nerves.
David rolled over, reaching to the small end table and picked up a book. "Werewolves: Myths from Legends?" he said in a mocking tone. "What is this?"
"You can't read?" she asked. "It was for a school project last year. I just forgot to turn it back in is all."
"You know,” he mumbled as he laid his head back with droopy eyes. “Ms. Tanner saw a monster on the night that old barn on Oak Hills burned down."
"Is that supposed to be funny?" she asked.
"No. I'm just saying."
A few minutes of silence passed with the weight of hours. "You know anyone who needs anything worked on?" Sarah asked, struggling to find words to fill the impending awkward silence before it began.
"You still working on air conditioners?" David asked with a smirk, as if to judge her choice of work.
"I'm an electrician. And it gets me free rent. What does playing with telescopes and videos do for you, mister got-it-all-figured-out?" She asked David, throwing the ball back in his court.
He grabbed his forehead and shook it back and forth before meeting her eyes again. "I just meant that maybe you should rest a while. You don't always have to be so tough, Sarah."
As she stopped to reflect on what he said, David interrupted her train of thought. "But if you must know, my channel is at almost a hundred thousand followers."
"Asshole," she said, shooting the comment straight into his know-it-all grin.
Sarah watched as David sat and looked around the house. It hadn't been that long since he was last there, but it sure seemed like it. She had so much on her mind that it should have been easy to conjure up an opening sentence. Anything to break the tension that hung between her plain white painted walls would have worked, but the conversation alluded her mind as she searched the neatly arranged room with her eyes.