We are currently making what feels like our hundredth barrel of potato salad. We have learned to giggle and conspire while doing our chores, it keeps us sane. She notices that I am no longer giggling.
I turn to look her in the eye. “Jamie, sweetie, run for your life. I’m serious. This place is a skewer for souls.” Now I am out of control crying. “Do you know that you have the power to refuse anything but the best? Is this the best? No, it isn’t! You have a whole lifetime to absorb life’s mysteries. This place is no mystery Jamie. It’s hell! Accept only the best Jamie. Promise me.” I can’t bear that I am witnessing the reflection of my own lost hopes and dreams in Jamie’s hopeful eyes. “I’m sorry Jamie, I must really be stressed out.” Right now I want to bolt out of here. I want to run as far as my middle aged body can take me. I feel small and compressed like a tiny microscopic cell. My face is flaming and my mind is racing with frightening realizations that I have lost my life somewhere on this distorted dirt road in the forest where I have made too many wrong turns and have no idea where I am.
Jamie is about to speak when Billy walks in. “Your new door is bein’ delivered today. Gonna have Bubba put it on. Damn! $800 dollars! It better be made of gold!” Billy notices my lack of enthusiasm.
“Denise, did ya hear what I said?”
“Sure Billy, I heard you. Sounds good.” The pickle I was chopping is now mush. Billy came in to retrieve some tomatoes and onion from the cold storage unit. She gets them and leaves, unaware that I am drowning in despair. Jamie is waiting on some new guests, but eyes me from afar.
So, if the door is being delivered today, then I need to shake this growing depression and figure out what I will do with Bonita and Bandito while Bubba installs it. I wouldn’t put it past him to let them escape. In wartime one must think ahead of the enemy. What’s really weird about all this is that I’ve always hated war, but here I am in the trenches, a fast-fry warrior protecting my happiness.
The dinner rush absorbs my focus on my dying spirit. I look out from the kitchen window and see some activity at the fifth wheel, so I ask Jamie to keep an eye on things long enough for me to secure Bonita and Bandito. My timing was perfect since Bubba was removing the bungee cord from the tattered door. The new door leaning against the trailer wall looked nice and solid.
“Thanks Bubba. I need to get the dogs locked up in the bedroom area before you begin,” I say as I squeeze past him on the steps feeling the painful pin pricks of alert nerves on the surface of my body where our butts slide against each other.
“CAN YA MAKE EM SHUT UP?” Bubba asks me without looking in my direction.
I am doubtful that will happen and don’t even bother to answer him.
Bonita and Bandito are nervous inside with all the commotion, but I give them a dog biscuit and get them up on the bed. I reassure them and plead for silence, leaving them behind the folding canvas door that snaps to the wall. I am completely uncomfortable about this situation, but need to run back to the grill.
Finally I complete my long shift and return to the fifth wheel. The new door fits perfectly and is a welcome improvement. There is also an attached new screen door that is much more solid and fly proof. It clicks open and shuts like butter.
As I enter, the dogs are high-pitched squealing behind the claustrophobic canvas door. The small air-conditioner was not able to circulate cool air in that part of the trailer with the barrier shut. I had the skylight open all the way, but still, it’s hot!
Bonita and Bandito fly off the bed as soon as I open the door. They are fine, but ready to be in the open air.
As I leave with the dogs for a late night walk I notice the small key sitting on the stove next to the door. I’m pleased that I will finally be able to lock the trailer when I am sleeping.
Not many nights pass without my evening care for Ray, so tonight is no exception. The consistency of my daily cleansing, along with the new cream prescribed by his doctor, has much improved his skin condition. I think he must also be on some sort of anti-depressants, since after a few drinks his eyes are almost completely dilated, which can’t be a good thing for anyone. He doesn’t leave their house much these days and has his oxygen on at all times.
Billy talks about Ruby’s court hearing that was a few days ago. All of the efforts made by Billy to redeem her were a waste of time and energy. Ruby was sentenced to two years in jail.
Billy is so wrapped up in her own suppressive thoughts that she fails to see my obvious drained mental and physical condition, but I wouldn’t have the strength to talk about it anyway, even if she did notice.
I thank her repeatedly for the wonderful new door and leave. At the fifth wheel I shut the new door against all the dark elements that scurry in the night at Hacienda. The key feels good in my hand and I am anxious to try it out. It slides easily into the keyhole, but will not move the deadbolt. I open the door to look closer at the mechanics of the locking system. What I see is another hidden grenade. Bubba has purposely rigged the door so it will never lock.
Chapter Twenty-one
It’s a Saturday in the middle of August and Hacienda is exploding with guests. It’s dinner time and it hasn’t let up since I began my shift. I have absolutely no clue as to why this is so. We have no tri-tip barbeque lined up. We have not made any crowd pleasing improvements on the premises. The sunken boat is protruding more than halfway out of the progressively receding, scummy lake. Flies are everywhere. The parking lot is full to capacity with assorted vehicles and the occupants of these vehicles are all inside this restaurant making me insane with immediate food demands. There is the possibility that this bedlam could kill me. Jamie looks like she is ready to walk out at any moment and I have no idea where Billy is. She could be helping me out right now. We are quickly running out of food and clean platters.
I have every pot and pan bubbling with heavens, I have no idea! The smoke from the grill is overwhelming, even with the back door wide open.
“MOVE ASIDE! LET ME HELP! Bubba yells as the screen door slams behind him. He can barely stand up he’s so drunk.
I have several platters set up for something that is cooking amongst all the sizzling and frying items laid out on the grills. Bubba’s violent entrance completely obliterates any remaining menu memory right out of me. Fear of his drunkenness and covert motives superseded any of my cooking demands.
Bubba grabs the spatula out of my hand and blindly takes over. The crown of thorns is full and doubled up. I mercifully back up and go into a strange trance leaning against the microwave. All sound stops and I am watching Bubba as if he were a hallucination. Now I’ve really done it I think to myself, I’ve finally lost my mind.
Everything is now in slow motion. I see from my peripheral vision a silhouette of what appears to be a demon behind the screen door. The demons arms are spread up high and pressed against each side of the door frame. The dark unidentifiable face pushes against the greasy screen. It speaks, moving and wetting the screen with its large mouth. This voice echoes like an inbound train to the core of my being.
“Bitch…Can’t handle cookin?… Huh?… Ya fuckin’ wimp!… Used to be rich?…Too bad!…So sad!…Now yur a fast-fry cook!… Fuckin’ bitch!… Bubba!… Ya fuckin’ asshole!… Get yur ass back out here!… Let the bitch do it on her own since she’s the cook!… Ya are the cook, ain’t ya bitch?”
I am now in a cold sweat. Bubba throws all the utensils against the splash guard behind the grill and thrusts open the screen door. Everything is burning. I am still standing in the same spot in my wide awake hallucination, so I do not worry about the food at the moment.
Bubba is yelling at the demon in slow speed.
“G..E..T….T..H..E….H..E..L..L….O..U..T….O..F…H..E..R..E….Y..A…..S..T..U..P..I..D….B..I..T..C..H…!!!!!!!
I see the audience now. They are all gathered against the meat counter. Their mouths are moving, but I hear no sound again. I think they are hungry. Jamie is trying to get through the crowd. I wave as if I have been expect
ing her at a party.
Bubba slams the main wooden door on the demon’s face. I watch the little window for any evidence that the demon will return. Then it appears again pressed against the glass. I can see now that the demon looks a lot like Terry, only deformed in a grotesque, vile way, like a female Satan. She focuses in on me and moves her mouth in wide phonation.
“I’m..going..to..kill..you..ya..fuckin’..bitch!”
I wonder what I did to provoke this demon to want to kill me, so I momentarily distract myself from this scary hallucination by searching my remaining memory banks for an answer. I find nothing inside—no memories of any kind! All I notice inside my head is a continual electrical squeal coming from my inner ear like some circuits have snapped and the wires are exposed and buzzing. I now comprehend that the only thing working is my vision, which now sees Bubba fling open the door crashing it against the deep fryer. Hot grease and over-cooked french fries spray into the air like brown elongated snowflakes in a winter storm. He leaps like Superman taking off in flight. I am impressed that such a bulky man can fly so effortlessly. He lands, rather ungracefully, on top of the demon’s body in the pile of cardboard boxes. My ears are working now and I hear fists hitting flesh and horrible screaming sounds, male and female.
I see Billy run by my paralyzed body. “Oh no, not again!” I hear her say as she runs through the screen door.
“Again?” I ask out loud and am glad I have finally spoken.
I turn my head towards the audience and see that they are dispersing towards the front exit. Bright yellow flickering, which I now see is a fire, is overtaking the entire grill area. I stare at it lovingly.
Then Jamie begins spraying white Christmas tree flocking all over the beautiful flames.
“Good night Jamie. I’m beat. How about you? I think I’ll go to bed now.” I say in a monotone, stupor-like voice.
Jamie embraces me and says, “We got to get out of this place if it’s the last thing we ever do!”
Gratefully, I find I am laughing and finish the song for her, “Girl there’s a better place for me and you…..Gee Jamie, I thought you were too young to remember that song!” Jamie looks bewildered and extremely tired, so she does not laugh.
The ringing in my ears has subsided to a dull buzz. Jamie and I stand there looking at the smoking kitchen mess. The silence is eerie. The restaurant area is empty and we can see commotion out in the front parking lot. Car lights are streaming by heading for the highway. There is still a crowd of people gathered around Bubba and Terry who are going at it again on the asphalt.
Once I understand what I need to do, Jamie thinks the same thing. We don’t even have to voice it. We know we are finished with Hacienda. Without a word spoken we begin cleaning the kitchen and restaurant. We do this for nearly four hours until any evidence of this nightmare has been wiped off the planet earth. I turn fifty-two years old in three days. I’ll be gone from here by then.
We do not see Billy until we have polished every inch of the area. It is very late, perhaps midnight. Billy walks over to where Jamie and I are standing, admiring our triumphant victory in the battlefield. Billy looks deadly tired. I can not carry her dysfunctional problem any longer.
“Billy,” I begin. “I am no longer happy. I have to leave now.”
“Yeah, that’s what ya told us when we hired ya. Don’t blame ya one bit.” Billy takes a long drag on her cigarette.
“Billy,” says Jamie. “Me too. I’ll be by for my check in a couple of days.”
“You gals go get some sleep. We had Terry hauled away by the police. Don’t ever want to see her again. Thanks for cleanin’ up everything.”
Billy walks dejectedly back to her house.
Jamie will hopefully have a good life and I resolve to spend the rest of the night packing.
Chapter Twenty-two
Bonita is coughing inside the fifth wheel. It is a violent incessant cough that sounds more like honking. I smell propane and quickly open all the windows. Bandito is slightly lethargic. I leash them up and get them quickly outside. Bonita’s cough does not let up any and echoes loudly through the dark park, but Bandito starts to perk up. I walk over to the propane tank holding area and open it up to shut the valve off. I keep a flashlight in there for emergencies. I examine the hose that leads into the trailer and see a small hole poked in the line. A small sharp stick lays near the fresh hole, the last and final hidden grenade in this futile war.
Packing was easy. All food supplies are bagged up and taken to the trash can outside. My clothes and books are also put into trash bags and thrown in the trunk of the car. I clean everything inside, make the bed, and vacuum. I will leave the fifth wheel fully prepared for the next unfortunate cooking victim. They will have dishes, pots and pans, silverware, microwave, vacuum, comfortable bed and pillows, boom box, canopy, clean windows and curtains, a small black and white TV, lawn, fire pit, and a maple tree.
My car is lightly packed and ready for morning. I make my last cup of coffee from the single cup Melitta filter and write a note warning the next tenant about the propane leak. I want to warn them about their life being in danger, but know that the note would be gone before any new cook saw it.
Bless Bonita’s heart, she is still coughing. I cannot do anything about this until morning. I saw an animal hospital in Brandon. I will take her there as soon as morning comes.
With everything ready for my escape, I sit holding Bonita in my arms. I find that keeping her chest straight up in a sitting position and rubbing it lightly eases the cough somewhat.
The sun begins to rise and I load the dogs in the car and head to Brandon. I don’t even feel tired. I have no idea what is keeping me going except for my survival.
I sit in the parking lot of the animal hospital for one hour until I remember that today is Sunday and I am almost ready to panic when I see someone finally arrive. Thank you Great Spirit! I say out loud.
I suddenly realize that I have no idea what I look like. I have not looked in the mirror since early yesterday morning. The motel I stayed at when I first arrived here is across the street and down the road a bit. I will get a room after I get Bonita taken care of, return to Hacienda for my last and final pay check, and come back to shower. I will sleep all day if that’s what I need to do.
Bonita’s cough is starting to drive me nuts. It is so repetitive and loud. The doctor takes x-rays of her chest. It reveals a slightly enlarged heart, a lung infection, and possibly pneumonia. He sets her up with antibiotics, a mild tranquilizer, and wants to keep her for a few hours for intravenous fluids, which will be perfect, since I can no longer stand to hear that painful cough any longer. He will prescribe a strong cough syrup for my long road trip. She will sleep most of the time. I explain to the doctor about a possible propane leak and he thinks that could explain Bonita’s current problem. He says they are lucky to be alive. He checks Bandito over and gives him a clean bill of health. My bill is $585.
With Bandito alone on the pile of blankets, I drive to White Fences motel and get a room for the rest of today and tonight. I leave with the key and drive back to Hacienda.
I park the car in front and take only the small key to the fifth wheel over to the sliding glass door of Billy and Ray’s house. Ray is sitting alone at the couch watching TV. He hears me knock and motions me to come in. I suddenly realize that this will be the hard part. I am crying before I even get to the couch.
“I’m losin’ my little angel aren’t I,” Ray says as tears fill up in his eyes.
“God Ray, I tried so hard.” I drop down on the couch and encircle my arms around his neck, my head lays tightly beneath his chin.
“I’ll never forget you Ray. As long as I live you will be in my heart. I’m sorry I can’t stay so you can have a vacation. I tried Ray. I really tried.” My heart is breaking.
“Now you listen here. I don’t think I can go anywhere anyway. I’m pretty sure that this here couch and this here oxygen hose is going to be my two best friends from now on
, so don’t ya be concernin’ yurself ‘bout some vacation that can’t ever happen. Understand?” Ray says as he gently lifts me from his shoulder to look into my eyes.
“I’m not sure if I will ever really understand anything anymore Ray.”
“Sure ya will baby girl. All this will just be a bad memory one day.”
How tender and loving it was to hear him call me baby girl. I don’t think I’ve ever been a baby girl to anyone.
“I love you Ray,” says the tow-haired child that lives deep in my heart.
“Ya know darn well I luv ya too. Wish ya were my own. Oh, and thank ya for all yur tender lovin’ care. Never looked forward to anything so much in my life. And just so ya know, I’ll tell ya what I think was gettin’ Bubba all worked up ‘bout you. Billy and I never had any kids, and we aren’t gettin’ any younger. Bubba has always believed that if he worked hard ‘nuf, he’d end up with Hacienda some day. He probably figured that ya were trying to nose in on his inheritance, comin’ over and takin’ care of us a good part of the summer like ya did. Denise yur one hell of a hard workin’ woman, but ya got better things to do than be out here in this God forsaken hellhole, so get in that funny car of yurs and drive on outta here, and don’t look back!”
Billy walks into our painful and tearful farewell.
“Here’s yur check right here Denise.” Billy is walking towards me, holding the check out. “We’re gonna miss ya more en you’ll ever know.”
We embrace and Billy begins crying softly in my arms.
“I’m going to miss you too Billy. I’ll e-mail you as soon as I get myself a computer. You’re a wonderful lady, and I’ve enjoyed all our long talks. I’m so sorry that I am abandoning you. I hope you’ll be all right.”
“Oh hell, we’ll be just fine. Wur used to all this crazy stuff that happens ‘round here. Yur too fragile anyway, so get yur butt outta here and drive safely.” She slaps my butt.
GRILL! Page 23