by E. C. Bell
Then I saw the light. And by fuck, it was beautiful.
Marie:
So That’s What Getting Hit by a
Mack Truck Feels Like!
I LAY ON the floor for a while after Luke and Eddie moved on, wishing there was someone I could convince to get me a big drink of water and a nice warm blanket. I felt like I’d been run over, and I didn’t want to move.
But I did. We had a client to go see, and an office to look after, and a prickly police sergeant to deal with. I dragged myself out of that house, locked the door, rubbed my fingerprints off of the knob, walked down the stairs, remembered the key, which was still in my hand, wanted to cry but didn’t have the liquid reserves to do that, so just tossed the key in the general direction of the mailbox, and floundered back to the car.
James was properly shocked at my appearance and made me sit through a rather thorough check for bullet holes. Apparently, he had decided that I looked like I’d been shot.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked when he got tired of looking for blood.
“Yes. Let’s go see Honoria,” I muttered, pushing his hands away from me and trying, without success, to do up my seatbelt.
“What happened in that house?”
I was going to say “I did a double,” but was pretty sure he’d misunderstand, so I didn’t say anything. I just flailed away with the seat belt, then fell back against the seat with a sigh that sounded more like a groan of pain than relief when I finally heard the dry click as the two pieces connected and I was finally safe.
“I want you to get checked out when we get to the hospital,” he said as he put the car into gear and moved out into traffic.
“I’m fine. Just fine,” I mumbled. At least I thought I said that. I fell asleep so quickly, I can’t actually be sure of anything.
I OPENED MY eyes when somebody touched my face and was rewarded with a bright white light boring into one eye. It hurt, so I did what anyone would do in that situation. I struck out. Hard.
“What the hell?” Whoever was on the other end of the little flashlight apparently didn’t like being punched, but at least the light was out of my eyes.
“Leave me alone,” I yelled and tried to roll over. Seat belt had me trapped good, though, and I fought it, too.
“Is she drunk?” I assumed that was whoever had been wielding the flashlight.
“No, she’s not. I think she’s been hurt.” James sounded pretty panicky. That was never good.
“I think she’s drunk.” Definite judgement in the other voice, so I pried open an eye to see who it was.
An angry-looking nurse stood beside the open door of James’s car. He’d obviously been trying to examine me.
“James, I don’t need help!” I jerked ineffectually at the seatbelt a couple more times, then gave it up. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“No. You should have seen her. She looked like—I don’t know!” James sounded nearly beside himself. “Please look her over.”
“I’m fine, James.” I finally got the stupid seatbelt open and shakily pulled myself to my feet beside the nurse. “Really. He shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m all right.”
“You’re sure?” the nurse said, flicking the flashlight in the general direction of my eyes again before turning to James. “Sorry, bud. She says she’s fine.” He walked away, leaving me with James, who did not look pleased at all.
“You should be checked out,” he said. “There’s something wrong. You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “I’m sure.”
“You know what I mean,” he said. “God, you drive me crazy sometimes! Can’t you just let a doctor look you over?”
“No.” I shook my head, and even though it gave me such a bad case of vertigo that I thought I was going to vomit again for a second, I continued to do it. He had to understand. I make the choices about my health.
“Maybe you should sit down,” he said acidly. “You’ve gone green.”
“Fine.” I sat down on the car seat, then briefly put my head between my knees. “I’ll be all right in a second. Just leave me alone, all right?”
“I don’t understand why you won’t let me take care of you when you need it,” he said. When I lifted my head, warily, afraid the vertigo would return, I could see he’d gone from angry to sad. Man, I didn’t need that either. I was so tired.
“I just need to sleep, James.”
“Are you sure?” I couldn’t look in his puppy dog eyes any longer, so I pulled myself back into the car, and reclined the seat.
“Yes. Really. That’s all it is. Go see Honoria and make sure she’s all right. I just need to close my eyes for a few more minutes. Really.”
“All right.” He walked a few steps away from the car, then turned back to me. “I wish you could trust me,” he said, then turned on his heel and marched into the hospital.
I wanted to follow him and tell him that I mostly trusted him—and that the lack of trust had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. I really did. But I was so tired, I fell asleep again before he was even out of sight.
I wish now I had.
I WOKE UP when the sun broke over the horizon and filled the inside of the car with light. I moved my head and my neck screamed holy hell, apparently because I hadn’t moved it in over six hours.
“What the hell?”
I pulled the seat to upright and yanked at the jacket that wrapped me. Why was I wrapped in a jacket? James’s jacket. The one he’d been wearing when he’d headed into the hospital the last time I saw him. When had he come back? Why wasn’t he here?
What was going on?
I looked around, trying to get my bearings. The doors were all locked. I hadn’t done that. And the keys were in the ignition. I was sure he’d taken them with him when he’d left.
I shook my head, trying to clear my poor overwhelmed brain. There was a bottle of water in the cup holder, so I grabbed it and drained it. That helped.
I reached over and touched the keys.
“He must still be in the hospital,” I whispered. “But why would he leave the keys with me?”
Nothing was making sense. I ran my hands through my hair, wishing I had another bottle of water. I was still parched.
“I could go in and buy one,” I muttered and rammed one hand into the pocket of James’s jacket, looking for change. I knew I didn’t have a cent to my name. There was nothing in the pocket, though. Not even lint.
“This is bad,” I muttered, then decided to man up a bit and go into the hospital, and find out what the heck was going on.
I’d only walked halfway across the deserted parking lot when I saw a small woman, her arm in a sling, walk out through the big double doors. It looked like Honoria, but I knew I had to be wrong. She would be in the hospital a lot longer than just one night.
“Hey!” The small woman waved her good arm energetically. “Marie! Hey girl! Did you sleep well?”
I picked up speed slightly, going from a limp to a hobble. Sleeping in a car, not my best choice.
“Honoria?” I called back. “What are you doing? I thought—”
“Not ready for the undertaker yet!” Honoria called. She looked remarkably well. I touched my black eye ruefully. Probably better than me, for heaven’s sake. “You ready to take me to the bus depot?”
“What?”
“The bus depot. It’s time for me to get out of Dodge. James said you’d do it—you’re okay with that, aren’t you?”
I decided to hobble right up to her before finishing the conversation because I was pretty sure I wasn’t hearing her right. She met me way more than halfway, moving much more easily than I was. And she’d been tortured, for heaven’s sake.
“You look like crap, girl. I think you should have spent the night in the hospital instead of me,” Honoria said, tapping me lightly on the cheek, just below my blackened eye. I decided to ignore that.
“So James told you I’d take you to the bus
depot?”
“Yes. You’ll do it. Right?”
“I guess.” I looked around, as though I thought—hoped, really—that he’d leap out from behind another parked car or something. “Where is he?”
“He said he had to go,” Honoria said, and reached with her good hand into the pocket of her coat. “He left this for you. Said it would explain everything.”
In her hand was an envelope, with my name written across the front in James’s bold handwriting.
I didn’t want to take that envelope from her hand. Not at all. Envelopes from men never held anything good.
“When did you last see him?” I asked.
“He left about three hours ago. He and I had a good old talk and then he said he had some things he had to figure out for himself.”
I looked at her sharply. I did not want a clairvoyant telling my James things about me. Not at all.
She laughed when she saw my look. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I didn’t spill your secrets. I told you I wouldn’t.”
“He already knows,” I said, miserably.
“Oh.” She smiled. “So the hard part’s over.”
“Yeah, sure.” Not believing that for a second, sister.
“I want to thank you,” she said. “For saving me. And for saving Eddie.” She sighed. “Finally, he’s at peace, which means I will be, for a while, anyhow.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say a thing. She waved the envelope at me. “Take it.”
I opened the envelope carefully, like I was afraid something horrible was going to jump out at me. Actually, that’s exactly the way I felt, if I was going to be honest about the whole thing. I’d never had what you’d call a happy surprise when I opened an envelope from a man. Never.
Inside I found five one hundred dollar bills and a note. I stared at the money for a long time before I dared open that note. And by the time I did, I knew I didn’t want to read it. Money plus a note always means disaster.
I was angry to see my hands were shaking. Come on, I thought. Woman up. You knew he wouldn’t stick around. They never do.
I read the note quickly and started crying before I got halfway through.
Marie—
I have some stuff I have to work out, so I’m hitting the road.
The money and the car are yours. Call it payment for wages owed.
Leave the key to the office under the welcome mat, if you’re going to take that other job, please. I hope you don’t, but I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
I’ll find you when I come back. We still need to talk.
Love,
James
“Where did he go?” I asked, ramming the money and the note back into the envelope. “Why didn’t he talk to me? Why did he leave?”
“I don’t know, Marie. He didn’t tell me any of that. Just assured me you’d drive me to the bus depot. You will, won’t you?”
“Yes, I will.” I walked around to the driver’s side door, tried to open it, nearly snapping a nail because it was still locked.
I knew he’d leave, if he found out my secret. I just knew it.
How could he do that to me?
Honoria reached over and popped the lock open, but before I could grab the handle, my cell phone buzzed.
“James,” I muttered, flailing around in my pockets. “If this is you, I’m killing you! Dead!”
I found the phone, and barked, “James?” before I even got it to my ear.
It wasn’t James. Not even close.
“Hey there, girl,” my mother singsonged, as my heart dove for the soles of my feet. I did not want to talk to my mother. Not now. “I am definitely not James! But maybe you can tell me why he’d be calling me?”
“What?”
“I said why is James coming up to visit me?” she said. “He says we have to talk. Did you two fight?”
“He’s coming up to see you?” My knees unlocked so that I nearly fell to the pavement. I clawed the car door open and dropped into the driver’s seat, keeping the cell phone glued to my ear so I didn’t miss a word.
“That’s what he says, dear. Aren’t you coming with him? What’s this all about?”
An excellent question. One I would definitely ask him, when I saw him again.
“I’m not sure, but I will be there. Yes, I will. Give me eight hours,” I said.
“It sounds to me like you’re going on a road trip,” Honoria said. “What, did James decide it was time to meet your parents?”
“I guess so,” I said, and threw the car into gear. “And he will definitely pay, when I catch up with him.”
Oh yes. That man is going to pay.
About the Author
E.C.Bell (also known as Eileen Bell) has had short fiction published in magazines and several anthologies, including the double Aurora Award winning Women of the Apocalypse and the Aurora winning “Bourbon and Eggnog.” When she’s not writing, she’s in Edmonton, Alberta, living a fine life in her round house (that is in a perpetual state of renovation) with her husband, her two dogs, and her ever hungry goldfish.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue: “Brown Eddie” Hansen: The Kicking and What Came After
STAGE ONE GETTING TO WHY
Marie: Looking for Another Ghost, Like I Have Nothing Better to Do
Marie: Honoria Lowe’s Not Crazy. She’s Special
Eddie: I Wish I’d Stayed Asleep
Marie: Meeting the Book Club
Eddie: I Gotta Remember That Address
Marie: James Wasn’t Going to Be Happy
Eddie: Watching the Cat
Marie: Isn’t a Park Supposed to Be Fun?
Marie: Oh Yay! Cops!
Eddie: So, Who Is Jimmy Lavall, and Why Should I Care?
Marie: James Breaks In, and All Hell Breaks Loose
Eddie: What a High’s Like When You’re Dead
Marie: This Night Just Goes On and On and On . . .
Eddie: Seeing the Girl of Your Dreams, After You’re Dead
STAGE TWO AVOIDANCE, TO THE EXTREME
Marie: The Next Day Brings More Crap
Eddie: Make It Stop
Marie: Overreact Much? Thank You, I Will
Eddie: I’m Outta Here
Marie: Maybe Mom Will Know . . .
Eddie: Getting the Cold Shoulder Is a Real Bitch
Marie: Connected with the Wonderful Web, Again
Marie: The Book Club, Redux
Eddie: No Confession for Me
Marie: Should You Drink Something Blue? Sure. Why Not?
Eddie: Crank! Buddy! Tell Me Everything
Marie: I Wasn’t Even Drinking Anything Blue! Why Do I Feel so Horrible?
Eddie: I Should Get Clean. Really, I Should
Marie: It Should Have Been the Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship . . . .
Eddie: I’m Going to Miss That Girl
Marie: Maybe Drinking Isn’t the Best, When Life Is Going to Hell
Eddie: Playing at the Dog Park
Marie: Moving On Gypsy
Eddie: It Was Something to See
Marie: One More Glass of Water, and I’ll Be Fine . . .
Eddie: All She Has to Do Is Answer a Few Questions. How Hard Can That Be?
Eddie: Turmoil at Honoria’s Place
Marie: Can We Keep It Down, Please? I Can’t Hear the Ghost
Eddie: Dying All Over Again
STAGE THREE POOF!
Marie: I Just Want to Save the Book Club . . .
Eddie: Not Going to Hell. Not Me. Not Today
Marie: I Wish I’d Stayed Knocked Out, to Be Honest
Eddie: Watching Crank Go Poof
Marie: Face to Face With Evil, and He’s as Confused as Me
Eddie: I Tried to Warn You. I Really Did.
Marie: I’d Never Been in an Escalade Before
Eddie: I Never Thought I’d Be Happy to See Stewart. I Was Right
Marie: The Driving Lesson Didn’t Go Quite as Planned
Eddie: All I Can Say Is Wow
Marie: No Way I’m Dealing With a Dead Ambrose Welch. No Way
Eddie: I Haven’t Seen You in a Long Time, My Friend
Marie: So That’s What Getting Hit by a Mack Truck Feels Like!
About the Author