“Yeah, well, sometimes I just go off, I guess. I didn’t hurt you though. I just wanted to make a point. Let you know you weren’t being so smart, you know.”
Garnet smiled. “Let’s just let bygones be bygones, Vern. What do you say? Start over?” She held out her hand.
Vern smiled back. This was gonna turn out okay. “Sure. Let’s start over. My name’s Vern, can I give you a lift somewhere, little lady?” He shook her hand and felt the edge of her nails as they slid across his palm.
“Thank you, Vern, my name’s Garnet, and I sure would appreciate a ride.”
Vern put the Kenworth in gear, pulled around the Firebird, and headed towards Scotland Neck. Behind them the crows and starlings were settling silently into the trees.
Vern got comfortable, put both hands on the wheel, and drove smoothly down highway 301. Garnet scanned the cab, careful not to let her eyes light on him. She thought he’d be real sensitive about that. The cab was clean and bare, not like most she’d been in. No candy wrappers, beer cans, ripped maps, magazines, or crap on the floor. No pictures taped to the visors. Some smiling cow hefting her breasts like the catch of the day to look at when the sun was too much to face.
Vern was trying to ignore her, she concluded. Most guys started asking stupid questions right after she got in. Couldn’t just let her ride, had to know all about her. Sometimes she rolled the window down and leaned her head out. Her hair streamed away, like it did with drowned bodies. She felt the tug and tingle along her scalp, behind her ears.
Vern was different. Silent, contained, not eager to know her, probe her with questions. Just let her be. She took the time to map him with her eyes. He had funny hands, pink, clean, and hairless, like he washed them a lot. Most men went to her straight from the toilet or from under the hood, like her skin was no different than porcelain or cast iron.
Hard to read his face with that beard. A regular wolfman. Not a speck of skin showing from his throat to his nostrils.
“You want any music?” Vern asked.
“Uh, that’s okay …” she stammered.
Vern turned the radio on. They were between signals. He hit the Seek button. Tony Bennett crooned into the cab. Vern grimaced and hit the button again. Rap bounced off the windows. “God, I hate that stuff,” Garnet said and shuddered. Vern agreed and sought another channel. “Police report a …” Garnet reached to change the channel but Vern beat her to it.
“I hate the news. News sucks. Nothing but bad news on it. Who wants to listen to that anyway? Long as it ain’t happenin’ to me, I don’t need to know. You know what I mean?” Vern stared straight through Garnet, looking for an answer she didn’t have.
“Yeah. I guess so. I don’t know. Sometimes it’s interesting, what’s going on out there. You know, you hear about things, maybe makes you a little more cautious. Maybe you can avoid something bad.”
“Trust me. Bad news doesn’t work that way. If it’s out there, it’s got your name on it and it’s gonna find you no matter what. Shit happens and there is no explaining it. End of story.”
Garnet looked out the window. She knew he was right. She knew it with a certitude that grew each and every day.
Scotland Neck came and went in less than a minute. A downshift series, a right, then a left, and it was all behind them.
“Hamilton’s next, then Williamston. Where are you going to?” Vern asked.
“Morehead sounds good. I’d like to see the ocean.”
“Well la-de-da. Aren’t we something? Ain’t you got somewhere to be?”
“No. I go where I want to, when I want to. Like my mother said, I’m free, white, and twenty-one. Nobody can tell me what to do.”
“Free, white, and twenty-one. Don’t you got life by the tail?”
“I ain’t saying that, it’s just I ain’t got anywhere I got to be. You said you were heading to Morehead and I thought I’d like to see the ocean.”
“Don’t you have a job?”
“No. I got fired. That’s why I was hitching. I was gonna go back home. But, the more I thought about it, that wasn’t such a good idea. I’d just have to listen to my folks go off on me about what a loser I am. But you came along, and now I can go sit on the beach and listen to the ocean. I’d rather do that. I can always get another job.”
“What were you doing?”
“I was waitressing. Slavery for white folks. My boss thought I should be nice to him for four twenty-five an hour. I thought he should try living with nine fingers. Like you said, end of story.”
Hamilton at night was invisible. Vern blew past the Reduce Speed sign, caught a green on the only light in town, and was gone. Twenty miles later they snaked through Williamston, past the peanut farms, the homes with the wrap-around porches, the Piggly Wiggly store, down to the intersection with the coast highway.
Garnet leaned her head against the window and began to drift off. She’d been on the road since early that morning.
“You getting tired?” Vern asked hopefully.
“I guess. It’s been a long day.”
Vern pointed back over his shoulder. “Got a bed in the back. You could take a nap. I’ll wake you when we get to Morehead.”
Garnet mulled that over. “No, that’s okay. We can’t be that far from Morehead. What is it, an hour and a half?”
“About that. You sure? It’s a comfortable bed. Nice and soft.”
“No thanks. But I appreciate the offer. You use it often?”
Vern shrugged. “Now and then. It’s nice to have right there if you need it. Just pull over to the side of the road. Climb in, lock everything up, and it’s your own private hideaway. You can do what you want. I don’t do a lot of interstate hauling, but I’ll pull a double, back to back, Asheville to New Bern, and spend an overnight at a truck stop. If I’m on my way home after a run like that, I’ll just pull over to the side of the road and check out for a while.”
Garnet slipped a long crimson nail inside her lips and ran it over the edge of her canine tooth. “You married?”
Vern shook his head.
“You must get lonely out here, driving all the time by yourself, place to place, nobody to go home to.”
“I didn’t say that,” Vern snapped.
“I’m sorry. I guess I just figured …”
“Well, you figured wrong. You asked if I was married. I ain’t. That don’t mean I’m by myself.”
“Sure. You’re right. I got that wrong.” Garnet put her palms up in surrender.
They drove on in silence towards the town of Washington. The moon shone down on the cotton that littered the fields like ripped Kleenex. Vern wished he was back in the mountains. The snow-covered mountains that rose like the spine of a great beast whose white skin showed through its thick black fur.
A police car passed them going the other way in Washington. It had so many antennas it looked like a fishing boat. Vern and Garnet eyed it as it approached and then each followed it in a side-view mirror. Vern caught Garnet checking him out. He smiled the way his mother taught him to. The one he used when he’d done something wrong and his father’s rage was en route, being delivered long distance by his good right arm.
“Sorry I snapped at you like that, you weren’t wrong. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s okay. I was just making conversation.” Garnet grinned. She hoped it disarmed him.
Vanceboro passed, then New Bern. They crossed the Neuse River, passed the signs for Tyron Palace, and took Carolina 70 towards Morehead City and the ocean. As the outskirts of New Bern receded, they entered the Croatan Forest. Twenty-one years ago a man came into this forest and buried his family there. Dogs dug them up a couple of days later, as it was a shallow grave. He was in quite a hurry, people said. They never found him though. Croatan was an awfully big forest, Vern remembered.
On the edge of the forest a neon yellow arrow pointed into the trees. Garnet followed the arrow to a trailer in a clearing. A single bulb dangled from a branch over the co
rrugated siding. Its cone revealed the word “Girls” in plump, hot-pink letters on the trailer door. Rule number one, she thought, in heaven there will be no double-wides.
Havelock began with a long, half-empty strip shopping center, then some fast-food places, an enormous pawnshop, and culminated with the entrance to the air base.
“We’re almost there,” Vern said. “Twenty minutes maybe.”
“Great. Drop me off at a motel. Someplace cheap, okay?”
“Hell, you don’t need to do that. You can use the cab.”
“Uh, no thanks,” she said. The courtesy spread thin over a cringe.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be nice. I’m pretty wired. My pickup isn’t until two tomorrow. I’m gonna get something to eat, chew the fat with the guys, probably go to a bar, play some pool, maybe cards. I don’t usually crash until six. Catch some z’s until noon. Load up and hit the road. You’d have the cab to yourself. Lock yourself in.” Vern shook his head. “Christ, you sure got a suspicious mind. I mean, if I’d wanted to hurt you, I had plenty of chances to do it by now, right? I mean, look at you. You’re half my size.”
Garnet burned at that indignity. She was a giant, a huge storm of a woman, trapped in this tiny body. It was somebody else’s body, not hers. She could escape it, but not for long. It always found her in the end. Someday she would lose this body for good. She would be big. Very big.
“And don’t flatter yourself, anyway,” he sneered.
“Screw you too, Vern. I was going to apologize and just say I needed a shower, I feel pretty crummy, and I’m not a good sleeper. I toss and turn a lot. Your cab is just too small and I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. But now I’m not going to say that at all. I’m tired of your being nice and having to get a pat on the back for it all the time, like you’re always doing everybody such a big favor. I mean, picking up a hitchhiker, one-half your size if I remember correctly, isn’t like finding a cure for cancer, you know. So thank you very much and let me out here.”
Vern pressed his foot down on the accelerator as he ground his teeth together. Harder, faster, harder, faster.
“Fine. You win. Don’t let me out here. Kill us both instead. That’s pretty bright.”
Vern froze his rage. Huge molten flares of lava, trapped inside him. Brittle, hard, with nowhere to go. Brighter than you think, bitch. Run your goddamn mouth. Get all them smart words out, now. That ain’t what’s gonna be coming out soon. Everybody thinks they’re so damn smart and Vern Bigelow’s so damned dumb. God, I love being underestimated, he thought. Please, go on there, all smug and self-righteous. You got all the answers, huh? Oh, wait till you hear my questions.
Vern relaxed and the truck slowed down. “No, I’m not going to just let you out here. I said I’d give you a ride to Morehead City and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. There’s going to be no doubt that I’m a man of my word,” he said without looking at Garnet.
Ten minutes later, Garnet murmured, “Thank you,” to the windshield.
Morehead City began to coalesce along the roadside, first with small businesses, then large warehouses taking advantage of low rents. Discount furniture, self-storage places, flea markets. The motels came with gas stations and fast food attached.
“Here, this is fine, right here,” Garnet said, pointing to a one-story concrete L. Doors and windows alternated as drearily as days and nights would inside them. Skinny metal poles supported an overhang that had peeling shingles sitting up like a bad toupee in the wind. The office was at the far end of the lot.
Vern turned in and stopped his rig. “Listen, you and I haven’t hit it off real good, and every time I say something you turn it upside down and look for something else in it. But I’m gonna do it one more time ’cause I’m just like that. Why don’t you let me go down and register in the office? Just for myself. That way he won’t know there’s a woman down here all by herself. You’re awfully skittish about things and I’m just thinking this way you’re a lot less likely to get hassled by any of his friends, have something bad happen to you.” Vern stared straight ahead in mock deference, mock formality.
“That’s a very good idea, Vern. I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“Okay, why don’t you just scrunch down here so he can’t see you and wait until I come back.”
Garnet crouched below the window level as Vern rolled the rig slowly toward the office. He parked under a burned-out light and stepped down from the cab.
Five minutes later, he climbed back in, backed out, and drove around the corner. He parked in the last spot, in front of door number one. He asked for the room farthest from the road because he was such a poor sleeper. The manager nodded, knowing what that was like.
“Okay, wait until I open the door. I’ll come back to get my bags out of the cab. You slide out and go in with me. In this darkness, nobody’ll see you.”
Garnet whispered, “Thanks.”
Vern left the cab door open, opened the room up, and pushed the door wide. The blinds were drawn across the small front window. He’d put on the light when they were both inside. He walked back to the cab. “Okay, c’mon out,” he whispered and reached up to grab Garnet’s waist to help her down. She pushed across the seats, legs first, and felt him reach for her and hold her in his strong arms. Her legs slid down towards the ground. She was glad she wore shorts and not a skirt. Skirts betrayed you. They wouldn’t keep still. As soon as her feet hit the ground she moved past Vern, free of his grip but still in his shadow. Up close, he was bigger than she’d thought.
Vern closed the door and they lockstepped across the sidewalk into the room.
Vern closed the door behind them. Garnet’s shape emerged from the darkness. Thin strips of light were lashed across her from her waist to her scalp. She was bound by the thinnest of cords, Vern thought.
“Please turn on the light,” she whispered, ruining the moment.
Vern flicked on the lights. Garnet released the grip on her bag and it slid around on her hips. She looked the room over. The walls were an avocado green. The carpet was a brown that could go six months without being vacuumed and nobody’d notice.
It was reassuring. She’d spent many a night in motels like this. Even worked a few days in them as a housekeeper. Little chain dangling from the doorframe, copy of the innkeepers’ law posted on the door. Who writes that shit? she wondered. Probably the same guy who wrote the mattress tag.
“Seems nice enough,” Vern said and walked over to the bathroom. He flicked on the light. “You got the basics,” he said over his shoulder.
“Oh joy. Has the toilet been sanitized?” she asked.
Vern lifted the seat. “Your seal of protection is intact.”
They both laughed. Vern looked back at Garnet, her eyes narrowed, her mouth open. Her head lifted back, the cords of her neck stood out. He liked watching women’s faces. They were so expressive. Not like men’s. Theirs were masks: flat, cold, closed. He’d seen so many expressions on so many faces. Laughter was nice, but it was not his favorite.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Why don’t we go out, get a bottle, come back, kick back and relax.”
“No thanks, really. How much do I owe you for the room?”
Vern flicked his eyes around. Could she get to the door before he did? Was there anything she could throw at him?
No, not even an ashtray. How about the Bible? He looked down and pulled open the nightstand drawer. There it was. Must be an army of them Gideons running around. How come he never met any of them?
Vern slid forward between the bed and the dresser. Closer, closer. His eyes on hers. This was one of the best parts. Snake and mouse time. Every bad dream comes true, every fear is realized. The pit opens right up under your feet, the ground melts away. That sweet moment of realization of just how wrong your life has gone. Not so smart now, are you?
Garnet moved toward him. She arched her back a little, just enough to move her breasts a littl
e, get him to notice them.
Vern stopped and looked at her. She was close enough to touch. He watched her breast rise and fall with her breath, the swell of her hips in her shorts. He was breathing through his mouth and stopped to swallow.
“Maybe that isn’t such a bad idea after all. We’ll get something to drink, come back here, and figure out what I owe you. I’m sure we’ll figure something out, right, Vern?”
Garnet leaned forward and put her hand on Vern’s collar, patting it and then his chest. Vern reached for her and his face bore down on hers. She gritted her teeth and turned away. The smell. It was always there. They couldn’t wash it off. She couldn’t wash it off. She was going to vomit.
“Um, look, Vern, why don’t you get comfortable on the bed here, put on some TV. Let me go freshen up a minute. It’s been a long day. I’m hot and sticky. I’ll feel better. Just give me a minute, okay?”
“Okay. Sure, go on, freshen up. I’ll wait here.” He stepped aside and Garnet scooted past him into the bathroom and closed the door.
Vern sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the remote control, and switched on the television. Preoccupied, he began changing channels. He looked around the room. He never did it in rooms. Always his cab, his lair, his den. Alone, private, safe. Dark and Close. He did much of it by feel anyway. So, maybe this time he’d do the easy stuff here. She seemed willing enough. It had never happened that way. He wasn’t sure he’d like it as much. Only one way to find out. He’d still finish her in the cab. Had to be that way. They’d seen him check in. But they hadn’t seen her. He nodded and smiled at his own cleverness.
Garnet threw up in the toilet, then flushed it. She washed her face with water and looked into the mirror. There’s no way out of here. There’s no other way. She knew it. She’d looked into his eyes and seen it there. He was going to do it whether she wanted to or not. Just because he wanted to and he was bigger. He could make her do it. Just like they all could. Like they all had. It was now or never.
Vern stopped changing channels when he recognized the car. Metal-flake blue with a white rag on the antenna. The bathroom door slammed open and Garnet rushed at him. He turned and stood to meet her. She had something in her hand. A dumbbell. He raised his arm, but too late. She hit him with all her might and detonated a darkness all around him.
Mary, Mary, Shut the Door Page 28