Places I Never Meant To Go
Page 1
Places I Never Meant To Go
SHAY LYNAM
All rights reservedThis edition published by Indie World Publishing & Author Services via CreateSpace
Text © Shay Lynam 2013
ISBN: 978-1492796657
ISBN-10: 1492796654
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. In accordance with U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.
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P.O. Box 819
Dewey, AZ 86327
For my husband, Mike.
chapter one.
Once upon a time, nobody gave a crap about what happened ‘once upon a time.’ In fact, there still is not anyone that cares. We see it every day in school and at work… We’re all more concerned about the future. Actually, not even the future. The here, the now. No one wants to think about the past, no one wants to think about the future. We all want to live in the moment. The problem with that mentality is that the past almost always comes back to get us- in the future.
Warm sunlight poured in through the window. I blinked once, twice, trying to orientate myself. Everything hurt- my throat burned raw, my muscles ached and the headache throbbing at my temples felt like someone had drilled into my skull. One thought surfaced immediately. How much had I drank the night before?
I rolled over to find a red-headed, freckly face snoring, her mouth half open and a putrid smell coming out to fill my nostrils. Apparently I'd had enough to drink to come home with that. I rolled back over to escape the stench and my eyes fell on the numbers of my alarm clock. 10:15 flashed back at me. Crap, I was late.
I scrambled up, only careful enough to keep from waking Sleeping Beauty, and grabbed the first thing off my floor that resembled any sort of Sunday best. No time to shave, no time to fix my hair. Who would I be trying to impress anyway? Everyone I knew had made it clear that I'm not very well liked, well other than Paul, who has been putting up with me since college. I greeted him with a grumble when I got down the stairs. He turned, coffee cup in hand. “Tyler, you're still here?”
“I'm running a bit late,” I muttered, running my hand through my hair.
“Yeah,” Paul said, “the service is probably half over by now. Didn't you set your alarm?”
“I thought.”
My friend held a cup out to me. “Coffee?”
I was already fumbling for a cigarette and shook my head. “I'll get something afterward. See ya.” Without another word I headed out the door, flicking my lighter on.
Fall had begun and I could feel it in the air. Novembers are cold in the city. The wind comes from the ocean bringing in the chill from across the water. My coat wasn't enough to keep it out but the cigarette smoke went down my throat, warming my lungs.
After several failed attempts, I was able to hail a taxi and climb in. “Pike's Cemetery.” I said and the cab driver eased away from the curb.
It felt like there was a cold, wet rock nestled in my gut as we neared the cemetery. I didn't even know why I was going. Everyone there might as well have been strangers, besides the fact that they were family. Who would even be there? Family from out of state or just those who resided here? I got out of the cab, tossing the grumpy driver a wad of ones and muttering “thanks.”
The summer was too sticky, too thick with perfume of flowers. The winter was too cold and made my ears burn. But autumn was death of the trees that smelled of earth and sunshine. Autumn was best for these types of events.
Paul had been right when he'd said the service would be almost over. By the time I got there, the casket was already being lowered into the ground and the pastor, who I didn't know, was saying a prayer. I sneaked in next to a tall blonde and lowered my head, peeking out through the tops of my eyes at who else had come. My fat uncle and his young, trashy looking flavor of the week stood directly across from me. His shirt barely covering his gut and his girl's dress was so short that if that casket was open...
“I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit surprised you came at all,” the blonde girl whispered, her head still lowered. ”
“Oh Paige, I see you've grown to be an exquisite member of society. How is Aunt Kim and her strapping, young pool boy?”
My cousin snapped her head my way. “Heartbroken, as you should be,” she hissed. “She was your mother after all, Tyler.”
“I use that word loosely,” I replied, keeping my eyes glued to the hole in the ground.
My mother was a blade, all sharp edges without a single soft spot anywhere on her. I suppose that's what it takes to be owner of the largest commercial real estate firm in New York. No one was surprised by her success even with the fact that my dad had left her before I was born. Though I hope he did have some responsibility for making her a cold-hearted b-word and that it wasn't just how she had always been.
“May her soul rest with God in Heaven,” the pastor finished. “Amen.”
I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of my mother being anywhere near Heaven. This caused several people's heads to raise and eyes to throw daggers. Finally, a couple men heaved a few shovelfuls of dirt down into the hole and it was time for coffee and cake.
For our convenience, there was a nice little building nestled among the tombstones where families could go after the service to cry, reminisce or, in my case, sit in the corner and drink bad coffee. Only a couple people came over to me to give their condolences. I smiled, nodded and gave a sad “thanks” in reply. While hugging some distant cousin I had never met before, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I breathed a sigh of relief when Paul's name flashed across the screen with the words “She's gone” underneath.
The great thing about not really knowing anyone in my family was that I could slip away without being noticed. The ground was soggy under my feet and I just imagined the bits of decaying bodies mixed in with the mud and leaves. I wondered if any of these people had been loathed as much as my mom or as much as me. I guess I'm like her in a sense; not caring whether people like me or not. Though in my mom's case, she didn't need people to like her, she needed people to fear her.
The fall was one of those things you only hear about in stories. The ones where the trees are the colorful kinds and the leaves are crisp and crunchy. Where the sun is warm but the wind is freezing which makes an interesting but beautiful contradiction.
The walk home was long, cold and exactly what I needed after my time in that room with all those strangers. I lit another cigarette and breathed it in, letting the smoke burn my throat before exhaling again. It dissipated into the fog along with my stress. A few more and I was left hollow and feeling light as the air.
Paul greeted me cheerfully as soon as I slammed the door shut. “Ya know, my father was very pleased with himself when mom gave birth to a boy after having four girls.”
“And then that boy grew up to be you and he has been marginally less pleased ever since. What's your point?”
“My point is,” Paul continued, “that I have decided I am pleased with him too. There's one less girl in the world for you to screw over.”
I chuckled and took my coat off. “What are your sisters up to these days?”
“All married and two have kids,” Paul called after me as I headed up the stairs.
My laptop sat on a stack of magazines on my desk where I left it the night before. My screen came to life with a touch of the mouse pad. IM was already open.
Tyler says: You around?
I waited, impatiently drumming my fingers on the edge of my desk.
Emily says: Always.
The edges of my mouth pulled up.
Tyler says: My mom's funeral was today...
Emily says: Wow, are you okay?
I bit my lip, tapping the keys lightly before replying.
Tyler says: Yeah, I think. She wasn't exactly a nominee for Best Mom Award. I hadn't seen her in five years. It won't be much different, I suppose.
Emily says: Well, I'm glad you're doing okay. At least it seems like you are...?
Tyler says: I'm okay.
Emily says: Good. :)
Tyler says: Enough about me. How's life over on the west coast?
Emily says: Wet. Cold. Gray.
Tyler says: Sounds like here. Are you sure you aren't in New York?
Emily says: Ya know, I think I may have walked through a portal on my way home from work. People do seem a bit snobbier all of a sudden.
Tyler says: Ha-ha. No, those are the hipsters. They sit in coffee shops drinking their black coffee, writing their screenplays and wishing they were New Yorkers.
Emily says: Ah, that must be it.
Tyler says: Just tell me that you aren't one of those people.
Emily says: I don't know, you tell me.
Emily sent you a picture. Click to view.
I clicked the link and couldn't help but smile when her photo appeared. Her blond hair cascaded down over her shoulders, lower on the right as her head was cocked to one side like she was trying to fit in the frame. Her mouth was set in a smile, teeth gleaming and dimples just barely indenting in her cheeks. A purple scarf was wound several times around her neck so her chin was barely covered and a floppy hat sat on top of her head, not really meant to do anything other than look cute.
Tyler says: You are teetering dangerously on the edge.
Emily says: Were you ever taught how to compliment girls? You kinda suck at it.
Tyler says: I never said you looked bad
Emily says: You basically just called me a hipster.
Tyler says: Maybe I like hipsters.
Emily says: You're sending me mixed signals here, Tyler. ;)
Tyler says: ;) Welp, noon is fast approaching. Don't want to keep those snobby New Yorkers waiting.
Emily says: Be sure to ask “are you happy with your cell phone carrier?” in your most cheerful voice and don't forget to smile :)
Tyler says: I hope you experience writer's block and drown in your black coffee.
Emily says: ;)
Jameson, not James or Jim, always had a way of making me feel right at home. Whether he was complimenting me on how great I smelled or how nice my clothes looked. He was a regular father figure. Lucky me since I didn't really have one. As soon as I walked in the door, he wasted no time in greeting me warmly.
“Tyler! You're late!”
I couldn't help but roll my eyes at how sentimental these father-son-like moments were to me. “I was at my mom's funeral,” I said without looking back.
“Well, now you're here. You have a list on your desk. Get to work!”
Only two hours before a smoke break. A normal work day consisted of “Hello, my name is Tyler. I was wondering if you are happy with you cellular service provider?” One of two things usually happened after that. There was either the familiar click of the person hanging up or a “not interested” proceeded by the click. Very rarely did I actually get anyone interested in hearing what I had to say. I suppose it could be worse. At least I wasn't writing greeting cards.
To keep things interesting, Andy, the guy next to me, and I liked to keep score of how many people we could get to stay on the line for longer than ten seconds. By the time lunch came around, he was up on me by three.
“Wages stay the same?” he asked me once I had joined him outside.
I took a drag from my cigarette. “Yeah, yeah,” I replied kicking at a loose rock. “If you win, beers on me.”
“You say if as though there's actually a chance you'll win.” Andy had a way of smirking with his disgustingly white teeth that just made me want to punch him.
Don't get me wrong, the guy was okay enough. But then again okay to me is just barely above those I can't stand. Other than that there was Paul and then Emily.
If I had ever met Emily in person, I'm sure things would have been very different with us. If she were just another girl I had met at a bar, I honestly would not have given her a passing glance. I hadn't really met her the way people normally meet each other, like on Facebook or eHarmony. There was this forum I had always liked to go on. I won't lie, mostly it was because I liked causing a stir among the many crazy gamers that went on there. It was weird at first when one of them started emailing me privately, giving me a piece of their mind. Letting me know that I was no better than the other people. Sure, maybe I wasn't way into online RPGs but after a while, I found out that neither was she. That by chance she had stumbled upon this site, saw some of my comments referring to all these people living in their mother's basements and decided to call me out on it. Since then, I hadn't gone a day without talking to her. I wasn't thinking about where it could go. It wasn't like either of us were going to fly to the other side of the country. No, I still had my girls and I'm sure she had her guys. I tried not to think about that though.
“Hello sir, my name is Tyler and I was wondering if you are happy with your cellphone provider.”
“You psychos leave me alone! I am not interested! I will never be interested!” Click.
I hung the phone up with a sigh and turned to Andy. He was laughing with the customer on the other end. “Alright, you too sir, and thank you for your time. Buh-bye.” With a triumphant clap, he uncapped his pen and made a mark on the wall in front of us. He pushed the pen hard so it would make a loud squeak as it slowly made the line. “I do believe that is game, Brosky.”
Mike's was the choice watering hole for most of the lowlifes on this side of city, including Andy and I. Paul usually showed up too by my third or fourth drink. At least that's what he tells me.
Andy slammed his empty glass down in front of me. “One of these days,” he started. “I will owe you.”
“You are too kind,” I muttered in reply, taking a drink.
My eyes wandered around the bar at the other people. I hadn't even met most of my coworkers, other than Andy and my boss, who thankfully was not among this crowd. My gaze settled on a group of women laughing in the corner. Each had a colorful drink in front of them, all laughing superficially, eyes flitting around the room desperately searching for someone to go home with. God forbid any of them end up home alone that night. A pair of eyes settled on me. The girl was sitting near the middle of the group, her long hair, pin-straight and black. I tend to see strange things when I have been drinking so I'm not completely positive, but it seems to me her eyes were glowing green. Yes, I am sure they were green, even from how far away from her I was. Knowing she had my attention, the girl flashed a smile, revealing teeth that looked pointed like fangs. But again, the bartender was making strong drinks that night.
I stood up, interrupting Andy's drunken antics and made my way past her table, slipping out the door and into the cold night. There were a few other people outside smoking and after quickly bumming a light, I was one of them, my back against the frozen, brick wall. It only took a drag and a half before the door opened next to me and a dark head and sleek body emerged, glowing eyes catching mine. The girl smiled and leaned against the wall next to me.
“Hi,” she said, her voice low.
“Good evening,” I replied, turning my charm on. “Aren't you freezing in that?” I asked, noticing how nice her body looked in that dress.
“No. Frankly I'm a bit hot.”
I smiled wryly putting my cigarette in my mouth. “I'm Tyler.”
“Monique,” she replied taking it back out and putting it between her own red lips.
The next morning I awoke the way I always do; with a pounding headache. On the bright side, it was Saturday which meant the day was my own. As I sat up and swung my legs over the edge, my foot landed on something soft and satiny. I bent down and picked up the little black dress, turning around to find my bed empty.
“Crap,” I muttered and threw on a pair of pants before heading downstairs. Paul was sitting at the table calmly sipping at his coffee. “Where is she?”
“Taking a shower,” he replied without looking at me. “She's been in there for a while, you might want to hurry out of here before she sees you.”
I grabbed my jacket. “Thanks man, I owe you one.”
“You owe me many.”
I shut the door behind me, zipping my coat up to my chin. I immediately regretted not putting on a shirt. It was cold, the kind of cold that hurts. I put my hood up and jammed my hands into my pockets before starting down the road toward the closest coffee shop. This was one of the few places I felt I could safely go without running into any of my flings. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place that no one knew about except for those that had come here for as many years as I had. Bookshelves covered the walls, reaching all the way to the ceiling. I never knew, though, if the thousands of books that sat on these shelves were more for looks or if people actually read them. The tiny place was taller than it was wide, with stairs leading up to a cramped second story loft. I headed up there and sat at one of the three computers. Another thing I liked about how small and unknown this place was, there was always a free computer.