Pretty Things Don't Break

by Lauren Jayne

  The phone rang.

  “Lor, it’s Carmen. What is going on? You fell off the earth.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, just couldn’t deal. But I’m moving to Maui,” I said.

  “What? When?”

  “Now,” I said. “I watched Field of Dreams last night and then had this crazy dream. And Carmen, I am meant to be in Maui, and if I don’t go now, I never will. I have to go today; something is telling me I have to go, and you know when I have one of my weird dreams – well, anyway. Mom’s having a good day, so this is my chance. I’ll call you when I get there, and you can come see me.”

  “I’m going with you,” Carmen said.

  “What? No. What do you mean? I mean I’d love it, but what about your job and…”

  “I have nothing here. I’m going,” she said like she was going to meet me at the mall.

  Within a few hours, I’d told Mom my plan and with the five thousand dollars she’d given me from Dad’s insurance money I headed down the stairs, her old brown tweed suitcases in my hand. When the doorbell rang, I ran to the door and saw Kurt.

  He looked at my bags and said, “Oh my God, you were serious. Why are you doing this?”

  “I just know I have to, and if I don’t leave now, I never will.”

  The ride from my house to Carmen’s was quiet. When we pulled up to her apartment, I saw Ana watering her plants in the window. Carmen ran to the door and came outside.

  “Mom is pissed at me and thinks she can ground me at nineteen; is that hysterical? Anyway, you and Kurt go out back. I’ll throw you my bag.”

  We watched her upstairs bedroom window and down came her red duffle bag. Kurt picked it up, threw it over his shoulder, and headed to the car. Carmen ran down her front steps and into Kurt’s car. With my suitcase in the front seat and Carmen and I in the back, jumping up and down on our seats like six-year-olds on our way to the zoo, I saw Kurt staring at me in the mirror. I smiled. As Sinead sang Nothing Compares To You, we headed toward the airport.

  Kurt took our bags inside and asked if he could walk me to the gate.

  “I don’t even have a ticket yet; I’ll call you when we get settled.”

  He grabbed me and hugged me until Carmen grabbed my hand and we ran in, so excited about our adventure we were squealing. We laughed all the way up to the ticket counter.

  Paying almost four thousand dollars for two one-way, same-day tickets to Maui killed our mood, but only for about one second.

  When the tiny wheels touched down on the short runway right next to the ocean, Carmen was clapping in her seat as the blonde stewardess gave her welcome speech and lowered the stairs. The hot, sweet air wrapped us up, and we ran and grabbed our bags.

  Then we looked at each other and said, “What do we do now?”

  When I’d told Mom I was moving to Maui that day, she told me that her friend Mei Lei’s son was the manager at the Sheraton and he could possibly help us get jobs. We got into a Yellow Cab; this time, the Hawaiian music was replaced by the news.

  “Where to, girls?” asked the not-so-Hawaiian-acting white guy.

  “The Sheraton in Kaanapali, please,” I said.

  “Oh, it’s a mess down there; they’re on strike.”

  “Perfect, then it’ll be even easier for us to get jobs at the hotel,” I said to Carmen.

  The cab driver flipped his blinker, and we headed down to Kaanapali, where hundreds of people with signs were picketing and screaming at each other. He dropped us off, and we walked through the lobby like paying guests. When I asked for Mei Lei’s son, a big Asian guy came out with a Hawaiian shirt on.

  “Aloha, how can I help you?” he greeted us.

  “My mom is Sandy Winkel, and she’s friends with your mom, and we were hoping maybe we could be maids or something,” I said.

  “Girls, we are in a battle with the unions right now; we cannot hire anyone. I’m sorry; I wish I could help you. Would you like me to store your bags?”

  We walked through the hotel and down the stairs toward the beach. The sun beat down on us in our jeans and t-shirts. I unbuttoned my shirt as we walked, surrounded by kids with water-winged arms and sun block-covered noses, and we hit the hot sand. I spread my shirt out to lay on; Carmen plopped down in the sand next to me. As we sat and stared at the deep blue ocean, our adrenaline finally stopped racing through our bodies, and as the sun started to drop from the sky, I wondered how just ten short hours ago I was lying in my dark bedroom at home.

  After half an hour Carmen said, “I’m going to run up to the bathroom; be right back.”

  Trying to seem like things were going according to plan, I said in my breeziest voice, “I’ll be here,” and gave her my best, “don’t worry” smile. Inside I was wondering why I dragged Carmen here in the first place.

  After twenty minutes, I started to worry about Carmen, so I stood up, dusted off my Levi’s, and headed up the stairs to the bathroom in the lobby. Just then I heard Carmen laughing at the bar; she had a big red flower tucked behind her ear. When I walked over, she was using her loud, “I’ve been drinking” voice.

  “Lauren, this is Tony. Tony, this is Lauren.”

  He had brown hair pushed back off of his face; he wore a pink button-down – two buttons too far – jeans, and thongs.

  She pulled up a stool next to hers and patted it for me to sit.

  Tony put his hand out, and I shook it, even though I was counting the seconds until I could go wash him off of my hand.

  “What can I get you to drink?” he asked.

  “A Diet Coke, please,” I said, trying to figure out how I could get Carmen away from this sleaze ball guy.

  A few hours later Tony had his hand on Carmen’s back, and they were kissing at the bar like newlyweds.

  “Let’s go eat,” he said.

  Carmen jumped off the stool, steadied herself, and grabbed my hand. When we walked down the beach, Tony walked between us, with his arms around both of our backs. Walking into the fancy restaurant in our Levi’s and tank tops, surrounded by a sea of freshly-made-up faces with tanned bodies in pressed dresses and shiny sandals, I wanted to turn around.

  “Carmen, come to the bathroom with me?” I said.

  “Can I watch?” Tony said with a slimy tone.

  I smiled a quick half smile and took Carmen to the bathroom.

  “What are we doing?” I said.

  “I’m getting us out of trouble, Lauren. He said we could stay with him, and he lives right up from the beach. He’s buying us dinner; you can thank me later.”

  Then she sloppily pushed the door open and waved me up to her.

  “Come on,” Carmen coaxed, flashing one of her toothy smiles.

  Walking through the restaurant behind Carmen, as she pin-balled her way back to her seat, I felt horribly conspicuous. I watched them eat and drink as if this was our Tuesday night norm.

  After dinner, Tony threw two hundred dollar bills on our table and we headed to his shiny black car. He and Carmen were talking, laughing, flirting and kissing like the homecoming king and queen at the big game. I sat in the back, watching as we left Front Street and headed up and over the hill to Tony’s house. Cars were parked haphazardly in the dusty lot under the house that sat up on beams. An electric guitar cut through the stereo like a razor blade. When we got out of the car, the guys, mostly big Samoan-looking guys with big hair, stood around and stared at us, making comments to each other as we walked up the stairs, Carmen’s hand in Tony’s and mine in hers.

  Tony opened the front door to more angry-sounding music. As he led Carmen in, I dropped her hand and said I needed air. Plopping down on the couch right by the door, I did my best to become invisible. Sitting silently, while melting deeper and deeper into the corner of the soft leather couch, I watched as people came and went. They’d walk up, talk to the guys standing around outside, open the door, walk back to where Carmen and Tony were, and then out past me.

  After a few hours of sitting with my arms crossed, sinking into the
arm of the couch, I couldn’t hold it anymore; I got up and cautiously walked around looking for a bathroom. The kitchen was filthy with dishes piled in the sink and sticky-looking orange counters. I pushed open one door – it was a dirty bedroom. I pushed open another dark door, my heart pounding as the partying from the back room went from quiet to laughter to screaming, then quiet again. As I grabbed the last handle and slowly turned it and pushed, the light hit the room, illuminating a long closet; resting on the sidewall were a few guns. I closed the door and heard Carmen screaming and crying, running down the hall, the spaghetti strap of her shirt hanging off of her shoulder.

  When she saw me, she screamed, “Run, Lor, run!” as she was crying and running and wiping her nose.

  Through the door and down the stairs, we ran as fast as we could. Past the big guys standing in the dirt lot, I grabbed Carmen’s hand and pulled her through the night.

  Just then Tony was at the top of the steps, yelling down, “Get those bitches!”

  They ran after us, and without looking back we heard them screaming, “Stop, you fucking bitches! You can’t leave!”

  Then a loud sound popped. When I turned around, Tony had one of the guns in his hands and was shooting it into the sky. His guys were running after us as fast as they could. Through backyards and past barking dogs, we ran all the way down to the ocean, and Carmen fell into the still-warm sand.

  When she finally caught her breath, she said, “He tried to rape me. He was trying to take off my clothes while the guys watched and when I said no, he slapped me and grabbed my shirt. I thought he was a good guy, Lor, I really did. It turns out they do more than smoke pot here. He put the coke dealers in Seattle to shame. In the time we were there, he took in a couple grand in cash.”

  Lying in the sand as Carmen slept, I stared out at the ocean. As the waves gently broke and the sun started to peek up, I thanked God for saving us from Tony. Then I started to think. When we were little, Carmen and I had to survive whatever life our parents threw our way. But no one had forced us to go with Tony. As the sun lit the ocean, I looked over at Carmen, fast asleep, and thought, we made it. We can do whatever we want now. I hoped that when she woke up, she’d be ready to start our new lives.

  Still in our old clothes and dying to wash my face, I went back up and asked Mei Lei’s son for our bags. As I washed my face and brushed my teeth in the bathroom, the women in cover-ups and straw hat covered faces stared at me. Carmen lay in the sand, eyes bloodshot, mouth dry, and dirt under her nails. We gave our bags back and headed down the beach and into town. The night before, while at dinner, I saw a little place called the Pioneer Inn with a wood sign that read “Vacancy.” We walked in, and I asked the big beautiful Hawaiian lady how much it would be for the night.

  “It is $19 a night or $12 if you take the room above the bar with a shared bath.”

  “We’ll take it,” I said.

  Stepping out of the cab with our bags in tow, I felt like a real guest at a real-ish hotel. As we walked up the back stairs to our room, the lady at the front desk said, “I’m Deb. I’m here almost every day; you girls need anything, let me know.”

  “Thank you, Deb,” and I closed my eyes and silently thanked God for always saving me.

  We walked down the unevenly-wallpapered hallway to our room, put our brass key in and turned the old handle. It had two tiny beds and a little window that led to a balcony. Carmen lying on her bed and me lying on mine.

  “Sorry I fucked everything up and almost got us killed.”

  “You didn’t; we are here now, and we have our own place. We’re safe, and we’re OK now. Love you,” I said.

  “Love you.”

  Helping Carmen unpack, I reached into her red duffle and pulled out a huge textbook with an illustration of a body without skin on the cover.

  “What’s this?”

  “You know I’ve always wanted to be a doctor?”

  “You’d be a great doctor,” I said.

  “It’s an anatomy book from a class I signed up for at BCC.”

  Quietly organizing our tiny room while Carmen slept, I looked out our window and watched the sun fall into the ocean. Well past dark, I was relieved when Carmen finally woke up; I was starving.

  Walking through the lobby, we heard, “Lauren, Carmen, I was getting worried about you girls,” from behind the desk.

  “Hi, Deb – why are you still here?” I said, just happy to see a familiar face.

  “I told you, I’m always here. Why don’t you girls come in and eat?”

  We said we were OK, knowing we couldn’t afford to eat at the hotel, so we headed up to the Pizza Hut we had seen on the corner.

  “We’ll have a medium cheese, and black olive with two salads and two Diets please,” I said.

  The cheese from the pizza was gooey, hot and chewy as we popped it before it was cooled, too hungry to care that it was burning our mouths. Washing it down with the coldest, crispest, most bubbly sip of Diet Coke I’d ever tasted, we finally felt like us again. We ate every bite, and when we walked up to pay, Carmen pulled out a checkbook.

  “Sorry, we can’t take checks from the mainland.”

  “This is all we’ve got,” as she looked up and smiled one of her half smiles that could bring a gay man to his knees.

  “I’ll just say I didn’t notice,” he smiled. “Go ahead.”

  When we walked out and headed back down to the Pioneer Inn, I asked Carmen, “What’s the deal with the checks?”

  “They’re from one of my mom’s old accounts, and we have six more.”

  I felt sick thinking that the guy wearing the Pizza Hut visor may have to pay for our dinner out of his paycheck. I knew we couldn’t use any more of those checks. As we walked down the street, we saw families holding hands with their kids, kids eating ice cream, couples kissing, and Carmen and I looked lost. Heading back up the steps to our room, the band was jamming beneath us, the uneven floor vibrating under our feet. From our open window, Carmen heard a few voices on the balcony that overlooked Front Street. I followed her as she climbed through our window. Two older guys in their mid-twenties saw us and asked us to come over.

  “Want a beer?” the guy with the soft brown eyes said with an accent I didn’t recognize.

  “I’m OK, thank you,” I said.

  “Sure,” Carmen said, with her textbook in her hand.

  “What’s that?” the other guy said to Carmen.

  “I’m pre-med and have a lot of studying to do.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive. We sell pharmaceuticals; we’re from Maryland.”

  In under an hour, Carmen was sitting on Tom’s lap. I told Matt, the sweet younger brother with the brown eyes, that I had a boyfriend back home, and we started chatting.

  “I thought you broke up with Ben,” Carmen whispered when the guys went into their room together for a minute.

  “I did, but it keeps me out of trouble.”

  “Trouble is fun, Lauren!”

  The next morning, Matt and Tom tapped on our door as promised. Waiting in the lot across the street was a red convertible Mustang. Carmen and I jumped in the back, and we headed down the road, hugging the side of the island with nothing but water to our right. The guys stopped at the whale lookout, and Carmen and Tom started making out. Matt and I looked at the whales, then we all jumped back in the car. With Bob Marley’s One Love playing on the radio, the wind blowing through our hair, Carmen and me in our matching Ray-Bans, hers with bright pink arms and mine with bright blue, hand in hand in the back seat, I felt like maybe we were finally on the right track. Our three days with the brothers were filled with touring the island in their Mustang, going to dinners like couples, and watching the Maui sunsets from a new beach every night.

  When they headed back to Maryland, I said to Carmen, “Let’s go walk on the beach.”

  She grabbed the covers and pulled them over her head.

  “I can’t, Lor. I miss Tom.”

  She slept through the day, and that nigh
t I said, “Let’s get out of here.”

  She poked her head out from under the covers, “I can’t move; I just want to go back to bed.”

  “You’re just starving, you haven’t eaten all day,” I said.

  Carmen pulled herself out of bed, and we headed down our stairs, past Deb, who always flashed us a huge smile, and across the street to Burger King.

  Two young boys about thirteen years old watched as Carmen and I walked in. Carmen flashed them a smile like they were our peers and sat down at their table. Watching as she laughed at their jokes and then left with their twenty bucks, I felt sad. When we walked out, she flashed it to me.

  “Don’t give me those sad puppy eyes; we’re starving, and they said their parents would give them whatever they wanted. You saw him; he wanted to give it to me.”

  Lying in my bed trying to figure out how to get Carmen out of her funk I said, “Let’s go to the beach. We know Mei Lei’s son – he’s the manager – I’m sure we can hang out at the beach and even get towels. It’ll be like we’re really on vacation. We’ll take a few days, and then we’ll really get to finding jobs and a real place to live, OK?”

  We jumped up and down on the burning hot sand as we grabbed a few towels. In two seconds we threw our towels and bags in a heap, grabbed hands and ran into the water. We swam in the waves and I watched as Carmen walked around the black rock wall and dove in right next to the ‘No Diving’ sign. The minute my head hit our soft, striped towels I fell asleep with Carmen by my side. A few hours later, I woke up and Carmen was nowhere in sight. Scouring the beach, I looked up and saw her at the swim-up bar.

  “Lauren, I’m right here,” she waved.

  I jumped in and swam up to the tiled stool in the water next to her.

  “Lauren, this is David. David, Lauren.”

  Moving his head to see past Carmen, his shoulder length, wavy blonde surfer hair shook around his blue eyes.

  “Hi. I can’t believe you girls moved with less than a day’s notice; you’ve got me beat,” he said with a surfer voice that reminded me of Kurt’s.