“You’re going to try and take off.”
I laughed, ‘Yeah right. I’d get about five hundred yards and freeze to death.”
“Exactly why I’m concerned.”
“I won’t leave, I promise. As much as I hate you right you I know my life could be worse. It’s been worse. I may not like you, and sometimes I’d like to shoot you in the foot, but you’re all I have. Leaving would be suicidal, and I’m not suicidal.”
He stopped and came over to move the blanket over half my face and force me to move aside as he sat on the edge of the couch. “I don’t trust you. If you betray me and leave, I will find you, and next time I’ll have to leave you chained to the house.”
“That wouldn’t be very safe. What if the house catches on fire?”
“Exactly why I don’t want to do it.” He moved my hair off my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. “If you try to go out on your own this time of year you’ll freeze to death or be killed by a pack of wolves. I’m just starting to get used to having you around, don’t be stupid and get yourself killed.”
“I already told you I’m not going anywhere. Look, I won’t deny I’ve thought about leaving, but you’re really not worth killing myself over. All I need to do is last until spring, then I’ll move on and you can have your life back.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, “You still don’t get it do you?”
“Get what?”
“You’re not leaving me in the spring. You’re not leaving ever.” He stood, “Obviously you still can’t be trusted. Get up. I should be able to find something for you to wear.”
“Wear? You’re taking me with you?”
“Not because I want to.” He complained heading towards the guest room at the other end of the trailer. In the two solid months I’ve been here I’ve never been in this room. It’s always locked.
He unlocked the door and turned on the light. I rolled my eyes at the piles and piles of boxes and random shit. What is he, a hoarder?
“When the rivers freeze solid it’s a good time to get supplies to certain areas. Bridges rarely hold for more than a season up here, and they’re not always strong enough for some of the equipment needed to haul the supplies. It’s going to be cold, dark, and a shit ton of work.” He started digging through a box.
“I don’t mind the work, but I’m not keen on the cold. I meant what I said, I won’t leave while you’re gone.”
“You won’t leave period. Here, put this on so I can figure out where to take it in.” He handed me a snowsuit.
I feel like a stuffed sausage in this thing. No part of my body is exposed to the cold but I’m still cold. I can barely see out of my helmet to tell what the guys are doing. Basically I’m in the way and blind as a bat, so they have to steer me around and Fletcher has to put me on and off his snow machine. I don’t exactly what this thing is because all I feel in the motor under me. I can’t see shit.
If I try to stand back out of the way I get yelled at for going too far. If I come closer to where they’re working I get bumped into. I’m sure they’re cussing me, but can’t hear a damn thing in this helmet.
Hours upon hours went by before I finally saw a light at the end of this cold dark tunnel. Master parked and took my arm to lead me up to someone’s house.
An old woman opened the door and waved us in. “Pat’s getting dressed, he’ll be ready in a minute. Who is this?” She asked while Master helps me out of my helmet.
I go back and forth between calling him Master and Fletcher in my head. I only practice the Master in my head so I don’t fuck up and forget outside my head.
“This is Jasmine, she’s mine. Get her something hot to eat and drink.” He put his finger to my lips. “Keep this shut.”
I nodded.
“Is she a prisoner?”
“Yes. Show her the bathroom and find her a place to rest while we unload.” He turned as a man, I’m assuming Derek, appeared. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.” They left closing the door behind them.
I started peeling out of my snowsuit by the same door to keep the snow and mud in one are.
“Here, let me help you. My name is Arlene, my husband Pat and I raise and train sled dogs.”
I wiggled my now free fingers and reminded her I’m not supposed to talk by zipping my lips.
She laughed, “Now that he’s gone you can talk to me. Are you okay honey? Come in, have a seat.” She motioned to the table and chairs by the kitchen.
I nodded as I took a seat, “I’m good, but if he finds out I’m talking to you I’ll be in big trouble.”
She waved it off, “He’s been a prick for twenty years, but he’d never hurt you. Hot coffee or cocoa?”
“Coffee, please.”
“So, how’d you end up Troop’s prisoner?” She poured coffee into a mug and set it in front of me.
“I was trespassing, then the weather trapped me up here with him. I guess I have to wait until spring for a transport back down to Fairbanks.”
“What? Why? People go to Fairbanks all the time. Pat went last month. If you can cut a path to the main road you’re golden, they plow and salt it pretty regularly.” She lifted the lid on a large pot on the stove.
The smell of chicken soup made me sniff the air as I realized Trooper Colson has been holding me prisoner all this time because he… what? Why would he lie to me? He doesn’t even like me!!
“You okay Jasmine?” She asked scooping dumpling into a large bowl.
“He lied to me.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. How long have you been wearing that collar?” She put the bowl and a spoon in front of me.
I put my hand to my throat. “A couple weeks. I’m saying too much.”
“The last time he did that he was twenty-four years old. They were married soon after. When she died he became the asshole he is now.” She explained slicing a loaf of bread into nice thick pieces.
“He didn’t tell me any of this. What happened to her?”
“She was playing too close to the river’s edge in early spring. Lost her footing and got taken down. She screamed his name, ‘Fletcher!’, for a good five minutes before getting sucked under a large chunk of ice and drown. She was fifteen weeks pregnant at the time.”
I put my hand over my mouth.
“Yeah, it fucked him up pretty bad.” She pointed to my neck, “I do believe you’ve been collared. I never thought I’d see that again.” She pointed to the soup. “You better eat up before they get back.
“I don’t want him to know we’ve been talking.” I hinted.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She winked at me then bit into a slice of what looks and tastes like homemade bread.
The guys came back a little while later and took over the kitchen. I kept to myself in the corner and closed my eyes pretending to take a nap while they ate.
The ride back wasn’t quite as brutal since the trailers are a lot lighter. There’d been some trading so we didn’t come back empty-handed.
The entire time I kept thinking about what Arlene had told me. He’s a widow. It made me wonder if he was a nicer person with her, if not she might have gotten off easy.
By the time we got back to his bland mobile home it was all I could do to feed him before passing out on my end of the couch.
His cussing woke me up a while later. I’m still having a hard time telling what time of day or night it is unless I look at the computer. The microwave clock doesn’t specify a.m. or p.m., so that’s no help.
“Fucking shit.” Something crashed behind me so I sat up quickly to see what the hell is going on. He kicked something on the ground.
“What’s wrong?”
He looked over at me. “Get up.”
I did, very slowly. “Did I do something?”
“Fucking people ask too many damn
questions.” He complained and pointed to the broken pieces of what looks like a coffee cup on the floor at his feet. “Pick this up.”
I knelt and almost fell over when he grabbed my hair and pulled. “Ouch.”
“Next time you disobey me I’ll punish that mouth of yours with my cock. I’m going out to cool off. Fix breakfast when you’re done here.” He ordered before grabbing his heavy winter coat and slamming the door so hard the house shook.
So much for trusting Arlene to keep her mouth shut. How did he figure it out so fast? Now I’m mad at her too. How much did she tell him?
He came back a few minutes later because it’s simply too cold to be out there without a full snowsuit.
Neither one of us spoke until he finished his second helping of my favorite trifecta, eggs, sausage, and pancakes. He threw a blueberry at me that had fallen from the top off the stack of pancakes onto his plate. “What did Arlene tell you?”
I set my fork down having lost my appetite before it had a chance to make an appearance. “She told me about your wife, and that the roads aren’t the reason I’m still here.”
He didn’t say anything for a full minute. “There’s nowhere for you to go anyway.” He got up and left me for his office. I didn’t see him the rest of the day. The house was eerily quiet.
Even the television seemed sad. Arrow kept me company, but it’s still too quiet. I started looking online at the people I used to call family. I wanted to see how their lives had changed, if at all.
I don’t have any Facebook friends, and my account is invisible to anyone but me. I can only see what people put up publicly, which is enough. My sisters are both materialistic bitches who love to show off their latest purchases. Oh well, they’re alive.
We never got along, and when they abandoned our father during his darkest hour I lost all respect for them. My mother was the ringleader of the abandonment. Dad got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and the three of them split so fast we barely had time to blink.
These trips down memory lane aren’t helping. I know full well how dangerous drinking can be up here, but I could really use a nip. Just a small one.
I decided to sneak a shot of whiskey from the bottle in the kitchen. My nerves are starting to get twitchy from the memories. Too much sadness and anger fills both my past and my present.
“What are you doing?” He asked harshly almost making me drop the bottle.
Now I’m shaking. “Just trying to calm my nerves.” I explained softly and continued to pour a good two shots.
“Pour me one.” He leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
I pushed the tumbler towards him then took down another one for myself.
“Arlene thinks I kidnapped you.” He informed me.
I nodded once so he knew I heard him, but I honestly don’t care what she thinks, or anyone else for that matter.
“Did you tell her that?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why am I getting text messages from her to let you go?”
“Go where?” I almost laughed but my mood won’t let me. I took a sip of the whiskey and closed my eyes. The burn feels good, like it’s a wall of fire pushing back the sea of bad so it can’t consume me.
“She said you can stay with her until someone goes back down to Fairbanks, then catch a ride with them.”
“There’s nothing for me in Fairbanks. Evidently there’s nothing up here for me either.” I meant the homestead I was looking forward to making my new home a few months ago.
“I know I haven’t been easy on you.”
I cut him off with a real laugh this time, “Fletcher, you’re a first rate asshole. If there were a blue ribbon for the category you’d have them all. Look, I told you before I’ll leave as soon as I can. Why did you lie to me about the road conditions? You fucking hate me! Why in the hell would you lie to keep me here?? Are you having fun torturing me??”
He ran his palm over his face.
I put mine up, “Forget it.” I grabbed the bottle and went to get drunk with his bike. It might be cold in here, but it’s colder out there.
Over the next few days I moved my stuff back into the bedroom where he stores his Harley. I don’t think he even noticed. Now that I have the snowsuit I can contain my body heat much better. I leave the door open so the heat from the living room travels down the hall.
It’s not a great existence, but it’ll do until I can get myself ready for the long trek back down to Fairbanks. If I can survive the next five months I’ll be okay. I’ll walk what I can and hitch the rest of the way.
It’s started snowing again the next day and hasn’t stopped for almost a week. I sleep a lot figuring I should store up the energy, even though I know in my mind it’s too far away for all that. I really just don’t know what else to do. I’m pretty sure I understand where the term ‘bored to death’ came from now.
Eating is proving difficult because I’m still too sad, mad, and frustrated with myself. I hate myself right now.
His voice started me from the repair manual I’m reading, “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
“Reading.” I held up the book to show him.
“Why? Get your shit and get back in the living room. What the hell is the matter with you? There’s no heat in here.”
I tugged on the lapel of the suit, “This keeps me out of your way. I’m fine right here.”
“Bull shit.” He walked over and looked around my little campsite. Why did you move back in here?”
“To get away from you, why else?” I flipped the page right before he snatched it away. “Get up and get out of that suit. Go warm up by the stove.”
“I said I’m fine. Can’t you just leave me alone?? I already told you, I’ll leave in the spring! Can you leave me alone until then??”
He reached down and grabbed the blankets to toss down the hallway. “Move your ass, now.”
I stood and put my hands on my hips to confront him, “What the fuck do you want from me??”
“Right now I want you in the living room and out of that suit. Do as you’re told or I’ll do it for you.” His threat had an undertone that meant he’d like nothing more than an excuse to make a mess on me somewhere.
“This is one of those times I really want to hurt you. Like brick upside the head hurt. Are you trying to push me into killing your big mean ass in your sleep??”
“That’s it.” He grabbed my arm and shoved me down the hall.
Once we got into the open space of the living room, which isn’t that big, I started to fight back. It’s not easy to do when you’re wrapped up like a sausage in a monkey suit.
He overpowered me, but not before I got a couple good slaps, kicks, and punches in. He forced me down on the couch and stripped me out of the suit with a few calculated jerks and laid a quilt over me from head to toe. “Trifling damn woman.”
I peeked out to find him shoving the snowsuit in the back room and locking the door. “Why do you lock that room?”
“There’s a lot dangerous shit in there I don’t want you fucking around with and getting hurt.” He came over and towered with his finger in my face, “You are not going anywhere. Not now, not come spring, not ever. If you don’t stop with damn attitude and sneaking around I’m going to turn you over my knee. Enough with this shit Jasmine. Enough.”
“You can’t keep me here against my will.”
“Would you like to test that theory?” He asked, or was that a threat?
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you kidnapping me??”
“Like you have a better offer.” He complained and walked away to go into the kitchen.
I turned so I can keep one eye on whatever he’s doing. “Quite frankly I’ll take the bears and wolves over your mean ass.”
&nbs
p; “No you won’t either, because I’m not going to allow you to do stupid shit like my ex-wife and go out and get yourself killed.” He came back with a long chain rolled up in his hand. “Don’t tempt me to use this, because I will, and I’ll enjoy it. The next time you talk about leaving this goes around your waist and around my hand. I will literally drag you around everywhere I go if you don’t knock this shit off.”
I pulled the quilt up under my chin trying to make myself as small as possible. “Fine. Put that away.”
He set it on the coffee table. “Leave it right there. Let it be a reminder of what happens if you fuck up.”
“Why are you keeping me here when you act like you hate having me around?” I asked softly. I don’t want a chain around my waist, that’s just fucked up.
He walked around me and down the hall to my room.
I thought about following him but knew it would just piss him off. When he came back with all my shit packed I thought maybe he’d changed his mind. Then he walked over and locked it the room with the snowsuit.
“Why did you do that?”
“You get only what I give you, until you earn it back.” He replied simply.
“I just want to know why you’re doing this to me. Do you get off on being mean to women?” I asked watching as he did something in the kitchen but can’t tell what.
He didn’t answer until he came back with a plate piled his with a sandwich and potato chips and held it out for me. “Take this and eat. You don’t get up until that plate is clear.”
“What if I have to pee?” I popped a chip in my mouth.
He glared at me as he sat down on his end of the couch. “Then you better eat fast.”
I sneered at him over another chip.
He leaned over and dug around under the quilt finding my feet and pulling them over into his lap.
I had to scoot forward or land on my back. “What are you doing?”
He pulled my socks off and began rubbing my ice cold feet. “Making sure you don’t get frostbite.”
“I still don’t under-”
“Hush up and eat. I swear you wear me out worse than a three day bear hunt.”
The Ice King On My Hate Page 4