Done Dirt Cheap

by Sarah Nicole Lemon

  “Where?” A beat passed and Virginia’s voice went cold. “The black Impala?”

  “It’s that state detective’s.”

  Virginia was quiet. She put the smoke back to her mouth, fingers trembling. “What do you want to do?”

  Tourmaline stared at the car. “Nothing.”

  But it was a reminder of the consequences if Dad, or any other Warden, got to Wayne first.

  Douthat Lake was sunk into a bowl in the lush green Alleghany highlands. It lay electric blue and shimmering white in the brutal sunshine, the late-afternoon air draped over the beach like a heavy, white-hot veil. All Tourmaline really wanted was to be down with everyone swimming and grilling, stretched on a towel, creepily staring at shirtless Cash from behind her sunglasses. But she waited in the shade of the oaks and sassafras bordering the parking lot for Jason. Determined to find out the truth about Ray.

  Virginia waited with her for a while, then took a long drink from her water bottle and turned for the beach. “Tell Jason to see if Aubrey can reach the stick stuck up his ass,” Virginia said, ice cubes clinking against the aluminum as she left.

  Tourmaline blinked. “Um. I’ll leave that gem for you.”

  Jason came over the hill in a glare of light, and by the time he parked his bike alongside the others and cut the engine, half the beach was looking into the wooded parking lot with frowns.

  “Hey,” Jason said as she walked up, sounding uncertain.

  Tourmaline tugged at her dress and adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder.

  “Where’s that girl you were with?” she asked.

  “I dropped that woman off at her car.”

  Tourmaline nodded, confused by his annoyance. “I was thinking of something.”

  He didn’t look at her, frowning at the gas tank and then carefully wiping a section with the edge of his T-shirt. “Shoot.”

  Tourmaline crossed her arms behind her back and clenched her fists. “Do you know a Ray?”

  “Ray who?”

  “A Ray who would make people scared.”

  He looked at the gas tank, hesitating a fraction of a second. “No, ma’am.” He tilted his chin at her and blinked. “I know a Ray Longwell.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know him, too.” Clearly there was a Ray everybody knew about, except her.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Tourmaline shrugged.

  “Is that all you wanted?”

  She frowned and studied him for a moment. Jason had always been around, always in front of her. Now she tried to see him. She knew his history. He’d spent time in the military, and when he came home he’d turned up at the clubhouse so drunk he couldn’t have hit the floor with his hat. Dad had sobered him up and given him a landscaping job until he was ready to move on. Except Jason never did move on. “How did you find the Wardens, anyway?”

  “Just knew ’em.”

  “Like how?”

  “Everyone knows ’em.”

  “Knows what?”

  “I don’t know, T. It’s a tight area. Everyone just knows. Why?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why did you want to join when you got back?”

  “Well, I didn’t have a bike when I left. And I was just a kid. And I didn’t know anyone.”

  That wasn’t her question. “No, I want—”

  “Is everyone down at the water?” Jason interrupted. Setting the bike carefully on the kickstand, he dismounted.

  “Yeah. But I—”

  He started walking away.

  Did everyone just get to dismiss her when they were finished? He hadn’t even answered her question.

  Tourmaline chewed her lip, thinking of the cop with the lit flare disappearing behind her. She had done that. She had done that and she’d driven that Harley like a bat out of hell. She’d driven like a bat out of hell and put her fingers into Wayne’s eyes. She’d escaped, talked to men at McDonald’s, and limped around for days, not crying even when she had to scrub the sweat and grass and dirt out of her open wounds when she got home from work. Pulling her shoulders back, she remembered she was that girl, and she called out: “I remember you.”

  Jason stopped and half turned, a look on his face she couldn’t figure out.

  “I remember when you first came,” she repeated firmly, meeting his gaze straight on.

  A breeze must have moved in the trees above, because the dapples of light through the branches wavered across his shoulders. Across his wildly blown and choppy hair. It caught that glint in his eye that was always there, but her heart suddenly sped up as something shifted in the changing light.

  Suddenly, she looked at him and knew what Virginia saw. What she felt. He was gorgeous, absolutely. Heart-wrenchingly beautiful. But more than that—Jason had all the confidence of a man who knew what to do, at any time, combined with all the fragility of a man who did not quite know how to live. And whether Tourmaline liked it or not, even though she cringed against the feeling, there was the urge to strike out after him. To bring him back to life. She wondered whether Virginia had the same urge, or whether, for Virginia, that look was just recognition someone was out there with her.

  Tourmaline ducked her head as Jason came back, nearly afraid to look at him now. “The first time you came over. We had hot dogs. You looked more scared than any conscript before or after. It took me a long time to realize it wasn’t that you were scared—you were in pain.”

  The asphalt crunched, and when she looked up, the glint had softened into familiar Jason. “I’d just gotten to the point where I could ride. Everything was still healing. I was in physical therapy for a long time. But you were really little. What—like, second grade?”

  “Try fifth grade. I was eleven.”

  He nodded.

  “How old were you when you left?” she asked.

  “Younger than you.” Jason laughed softly and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it, now that he thought about it. Sighing then, he dragged his hand through his hair and looked at the ground. “I was seventeen. I signed up in October and it was next stop, Baghdad, in March.”

  “Oh.”

  His face seemed to fight to stay still and his eyes avoided hers.

  What did he see, when he saw her? Tourmaline tried to stop the blush that poured into her face, but it was useless and she had to press on and pretend it wasn’t there. “What did you do in the Marines?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I’ve never asked. Sometimes it takes a while to see the things right in front of you.”

  His gaze flickered to hers, alarmed.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She crossed her arms and searched his eyes for any indication of the answer anyway. “I hadn’t meant to ask about this. I was just . . . thinking. About everything. All the things I don’t know.”

  He looked away and gave a short, flat sigh.

  Tourmaline chewed the inside of her cheek.

  “You’ve seen the scars. Do you think I got that doing paperwork?” Jason straightened and widened his stance. “I served. I’m proud of my service. I survived.”

  She could see the pride, but it didn’t look the way she had expected it to look. She didn’t really know how to define what patriotism was on him. Or what to say in return. For a minute, they just stood there, listening to the faraway laughs of people down at the lake and the sizzle of the sun hitting the canopy above them.

  “So you came home and just knocked on our door?”

  Jason roused, eyes blinking back into focus. “The conscript’s dad, he was a Vietnam vet—about the same age as me when he served. I met him at Walter Reed. He helped me get involved. The transition is hard. The Wardens made it easier.”

  “Cash’s dad?”

  He frowned and cut his gaze in her direction. “Why do you keep calling him that?”

  “I don’t.” A wave of horror crashed over her. She had. “I just . . .” Shit.

  “You should be careful. It’s going to sound like something
it isn’t.”

  “I don’t. I mean. It isn’t.”

  “I’m just saying. He’s too old for you, number one. The rest of the reasons aren’t even . . . Your dad would—”

  “My dad could get over it,” she snapped. “But it was just a mistake.”

  Jason eyed her. “You’re gonna make trouble for him if you’re not careful.”

  Tourmaline winced, her stomach sinking deeper and deeper. What had she been doing with Cash? Thinking they could get away with this somehow. Jason was his sponsor. Jason held his fate. Jason was suspicious.

  Shit.

  She couldn’t keep texting. Flirting. Wanting. She couldn’t do any of that without ruining his life. She wanted to cry, but she just closed her eyes and growled. “I don’t. Virginia just uses his first name, so it’s in my head.”

  “Virginia.” He bit out the name as if spitting nails.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What?”

  “And her? I don’t get what your thing is.” It wasn’t like Jason to be annoyed by a girl. Let alone one of Tourmaline’s friends. She frowned and moved to the side as a car pulled past them.

  Virginia was solidly a girl you could envision on the arm of an older man, but one richer and older than Jason. “She’s eighteen,” Tourmaline said.

  His eyes met hers, some hardness in them she hadn’t expected. “I know.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m an old man.”

  “Trust me, I know. But how old is that?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  The car circled back, slowly easing past them. Tourmaline kept her face turned away from Jason so he couldn’t read her expression. On the one hand he was younger than she’d thought. On the other hand, he was still a lot older than they were.

  “I don’t want anything to do with your friend, T. Don’t worry.”

  “Oh.”

  She looked at her feet and found herself remembering Virginia putting ice on her neck and giving her medicine and rubbing her back until she felt better. She thought of Virginia’s fierceness. “She’s a strange eighteen. It’s different from mine.”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Eighteen is the same. You’re babies.”

  “Your eighteen was different from mine.” She lifted her head. “Where were you for your eighteenth birthday?”

  His mouth twisted. After a long pause, he answered. “Iraq.”

  She opened her hand and pretended to drop the mic.

  He smiled grudgingly. But genuinely.

  And she knew everything was changed again, because his smile made her own heart race, whether she wanted it to or not. She swallowed and hoped he couldn’t see it. “Virginia’s eighteen is not my eighteen. We aren’t friends because we’re the same age or having the same experience. We don’t have anything in common.”

  “Why are y’all friends, then?”

  They weren’t really friends at all, not in the way Tourmaline had always had friends. But she looked up, trying to figure out how to explain. “We’re friends because when girls—women—are alone in this world, they’re easier to pick off.”

  Jason’s mouth opened to respond.

  But brakes squeaked, and both Tourmaline and Jason turned.

  A sheriff’s SUV had stopped beside them and rolled down its window. “Y’all are going to have to leave,” the deputy said, pointing at Jason.

  He dropped his hands open at his sides and moved in front of Tourmaline. “What?”

  “You and all your buddies down there.” The deputy jerked his thumb. “Out.”

  Sauls was suddenly there, and he stepped beside Jason.

  Tourmaline took a step to the side to watch.

  “This is a family beach,” the deputy said.

  “We’re here with our families, officer,” Jason said.

  The deputy shook his head. “I just don’t need any trouble today.”

  “There isn’t any.” Jason started walking toward the SUV. “I mean, unless you’re going to start it.”

  “Don’t take another step.” The deputy fumbled, jumping out with his gun drawn at his side.

  Jason stood still.

  Sauls twisted and met Tourmaline’s eyes—seeing she’d moved, he shifted between her and the deputy.

  “We’re not going to have any trouble today,” the deputy said.

  “When do we make trouble? We’re a family club.”

  The deputy didn’t answer. His gun was still at his side. She couldn’t see the deputy’s face, but she saw how white his knuckles were on the gun.

  “Fine.” Jason spat in the dirt by the deputy’s boots. “Happy Independence Day.” He stalked away to the lake. “Get in Virginia’s truck, Tourmaline,” he hollered over his shoulder. “And don’t get out.”

  Tourmaline looked at the deputy.

  But the deputy nodded to Sauls.

  She clenched her fists and went to sit in the sweltering truck, half-born and feeling stuck in the effort.

  Two months, she reminded herself. In two months she could leave this whole insular world behind. Except now she didn’t know whether that was a comfort or a heartache.

  The flash of a Buick lurking behind the trees in the parking lot brought Virginia into complete and utter sobriety, despite the water bottle of vodka between her knees in the sharp, rocky sand. The sun blistered her shoulders, but her blood turned to ice at the sight of one of Hazard’s hired men, Burley, in that stupid car he insisted was not tan, but champagne.

  Hazard was on to her, waiting for the break in the screen.

  Virginia pushed her sunglasses tighter to her face and stared at the lake. She was safe for the moment. If Burley had seen her, he’d also seen the fifty other people on the beach, half of them Wardens. But there was no getting out of this. Her time was up. She had to run. Leave the state. It was time, anyway. There was nothing for her here. Her stomach—empty of food and full of watered-down vodka—churned.

  When the sheriff kicked them all out five minutes later, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or afraid, especially when she found herself following a long line of cars and bikes kicking dust deep into the woods, heading for Jason’s house.

  And as everyone bowed their heads to pray over the meal—women, and babies, and grown-up children, and sweaty little kids flanking the sides of the Wardens—Virginia kept her chin up and her eyes open, scanning the crowd.

  It seemed obvious now. If you were to have the right to be here, someone had to speak for you. Tourmaline stood beside her dad. Virginia beside Tourmaline. Aubrey beside Jason. Tourmaline had spoken for her. Said she was trustworthy. And for the first time ever, Virginia wished she were worth Tourmaline’s trust.

  Jason turned his head and caught her eye. Staring her down. Which one of these things is not like the others?

  Virginia let her eyes drop. She wouldn’t have been able to hide behind Tourmaline and the Wardens much longer anyway.

  They ate. Virginia hungrily. She’d been living on cheap hamburgers all week, and the spread was amazing. Ribs and coleslaw and cake. A last meal actually worthy of being called a last meal.

  But it ended up being a waste. Like everything the last few weeks.

  She barely made it to the woods behind the house before throwing it all back up. One bag of pilfered chips mixed with a little more watered-down vodka later, and everything managed to stay down. Even her body knew. The only good thing in her life wasn’t hers, never would be, and she’d never even had a chance at being part of it.

  Virginia settled in a darkening corner of the porch, sipping at the water bottle and feeling as if every point and line in her body were going in the wrong direction, at odds with itself.

  Tourmaline sat on the swing, bathed in sweet summer light with a baby perched on her thighs while she talked to the wife of one of the Wardens about going to UVA in the fall. Jason stood in a tight circle of Wardens, laughing. The brutal sun dipped low behind the trees, and they lit a bonfire and gave the babies sparkl
ers before the moms snatched them away.

  It seemed lovely, everything warm and glowing from sparklers and firelight. The tree frogs sang in the darkened woods, and a slight, though muggy, breeze had picked up. But Virginia watched from the shadows as if she had her face to a window—where she was, she could only watch other people’s lives instead of having one of her own. Forced to feel the sense of family and brotherhood surrounding her as she stood outside of it all.

  Virginia’s eyes burned. Her body ached from sitting.

  The babies were taken home. Tourmaline joined a group of older kids playing with the fireworks. Aubrey was glued into the crook of Jason’s arm, laughing at something someone said.

  Virginia pressed her face harder against that window, drowning under waves of longing. Fuck this shit. She pushed up and went inside, past the kitchen and the little living room. Past the bathroom, to the end of the dark hallway, far from the party.

  The door wasn’t open, but Virginia went in anyway, flicking on the light with the kind of nerve reserved for one’s last days. The quiet eased her chest, and she took a deep breath, blinking as her eyes adjusted.

  Jason’s room was sparse. Empty, except for a mattress on the floor and a gouged and beaten wooden dresser with a fan on top. Leaving the door cracked, she flipped on the fan and went to inspect the few pictures tacked above the dresser.

  Picture One: Jason sandwiched between six topless women at some country-looking thing. His cheeks were red, whether from the serious bottle in his hand or because the women made him blush, she wasn’t sure. Picture Two: Jason with Tourmaline’s dad; Jason looked like a kid in the photo. Tourmaline’s dad, younger. They looked like father and son. Smiling with their arms over each other’s shoulders and their nearly identical Wardens vests. She lifted her fingers, cocked them, and quietly blew off both heads in the photo.

  It didn’t make her feel better.

  How long would it take Hazard to find her if she left southern Virginia? He didn’t seem like the type to go after her, but then she didn’t know for sure. Hugging herself, Virginia turned and stared at the rest of the room.

  The mattress was empty but for a sheet. A blanket was tidily folded on top of a pillow that lay on the floor to the side. That was it. The entire room.