Holding Her in Madness

by Kimber S. Dawn

  Neither of us really knows what the fuck we’re doing when we’re together. I realize now that, even back then, we were making love—and that’s what it is. It’s hardcore amateur-slash-novice fucking bouts in between me and her making love, using our hands, our mouths, our legs, backs, tongues, whispered words, and teeth to express what we feel for one another.

  It’s the most beautiful fucking thing I had ever felt in my entire young life.

  And it will remain the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever felt, even decades later...

  Make a note. Mark this night down. It’s a little important…

  You’ve heard me mention it a million times, and I’ll mention it a million more while I tell you this story.

  This night is a turning page, a devastating fork in the course of my life.

  I’m standing on the precipice that can honestly be pinpointed as the moment in time where our lives could go one way or another, one where I lose the life I want with the woman I want or one where I get every-fucking-thing I have and will forever want in all of my life.

  I’m staring after Lil through fucking tears blurring my vision in my Camaro after my surprise date with her. I don’t know what the fuck just happened. It felt like two opposing things occurred simultaneously. Like a vow, a lifelong commitment was just sealed, yet at the same time, she was telling me goodbye.

  As I sit there watching her walk up the driveway and onto her front porch, something inside my soul is ripping at me, screaming at me to grab her ass and throw her back in the car and take the fuck off.

  The only thing that keeps me in the damn car and has my hand shifting the car into first gear is that fact that I know, with every time this week as well as tonight out by the lake, I just put my baby inside Lillian Shaw. She can’t leave me now.

  I know it was probably one of the most irresponsible, reckless, and craziest fucking things I have ever done, but I refuse to give a fuck. We’ll make this shit work. No matter what. As long as I have Lil, I’ll be okay. It was the only thing I could do that I knew would keep my firecracker with me.

  I know it’s gonna be rough, I know it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll always be there for my girl. Always.

  A couple of hours later, I’m in the back shed cleaning out a bunch of old shit that probably hasn’t seen anything besides the inside of this shed for over twenty or thirty years.

  A couple of days ago, I found an old bike for sale. It’s beat to shit and doesn’t work—the owner can’t even remember the last time it ran—but it’s a Harley and it was only five hundred bucks.

  My Grands—she’s really my great aunt, but all the other kids call her Grands so I do, and she’s who I’ve been staying with since I moved here from Cali. Anyway, Grands said that I can use the shed to fix the bike up as long as I cleaned all the shit out of it.

  This task was not on my agenda today. However, as soon as my head hit my pillow, Grands came in saying that the guy with the bike called and I needed to come pick it up today or he’d sell it to the guy who was coming tomorrow evening.

  It’s almost noon when Josh swings by with two beers in his hand and a smirk on his face. “What’s up, pussy?” He holds a beer out and I grab it, twisting the top off before guzzling half of it down.

  Fuck, I’m thirsty!

  “Your momma’s feet, little fucker. What the hell are you up to?” I finish the beer and toss it in the trash bin outside the shed before turning around, taking the beer out of Josh’s hand, and walking back into the shed.

  Sipping on the beer and using the other hand to toss shit into their ‘trash’ or ‘not trash’ boxes, I hear Josh say, “Nothin’ really. Saw you over here diggin’ in the shed. Wanted to see how last night went with Lil and find out what the fuck you’re doin’.”

  “Last night was good. You know how it is with Lil. I don’t ever know what to make outta that girl. One second she’s looking at me like I fucking made the night sky light up with stars. Then the next she’s closing up and pulling her shields around her like I’m the villain.”

  Sighing, I wipe the sweat off the beer and then use it to wipe the old dust and dirt off my face before dragging the rag draped over my shoulder to dry my face. “Got any more beer?”

  “Yeah, I gotta twelve-pack. Well, ten now. I’ll go grab it.” Josh runs off, but I hear him five minutes later heaving the ice chest up to the shed’s open door. “Here ya go, man.”

  I toss the empty beer bottle in the trash and grab the beer from him, twisting the cap off and setting it to the side before I get back to work.

  “So, yeah, man. I don’t know what to tell ya about Lil. Y’all don’t ever hang out around us, so I don’t know enough about her or this thing going on between y’all.” He sips from his beer then asks, “Is it serious between you two? Never see you anymore, dude.”

  I look up at Josh, sighing and running my hand through my hair, “Yeah, it’s... Ahh...it’s a little more than fuckin’ serious, dude.” I shake my head, walking out of the shed.

  I look up into sky. Then I turn around and face Josh. “She’s the fuckin’ one. And I don’t know what the fuck to do with that. I mean, I know I want to keep her, I know I’m not ever gonna let her go, and I think she feels the same way. It’s just... I don’t know, man. I can fight everything, anything, but I can’t fight it when she clams up and gets lost in that fuckin’ mind of hers. It’s a goddamn steel vault... In Fort Knox. Can’t reach her in there.”

  “Leo, I never tried to get to know Lil. Shit, even I knew her ass was too young. I know she didn’t look it at the beginning of this summer, but she did not look like that at the ending of last summer. She looked thirteen, dude. If I had known what the hell you were thinkin’ at the beginning of the summer where little Lil was concerned, I would’ve told you to just keep ignoring her ass.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that, asshole?” I ask before draining my third beer.

  “‘Cause, you don’t know that girl’s daddy, motherfucker. He is a gun-toting, don’t-look-at-my-baby-girl, Republican, quiet-as-fuck, serious-as-a-heart-attack, trigger-happy son of a bitch!”

  Well FUCK! There goes a Craftsman wrench in that plan to converse with her old man about how I’m in love with his daughter. Shit! Damn! Fucking hell! Fuck!

  “Fuck, Josh!” I toss the beer bottle into the trash box before picking it up and heading towards the front of the house to dump it in the big trashcan by the road. I hear Josh’s feet following behind me.

  I spit the words at him over my shoulder. “You knew I was with Lil. You’d have to be fuckin’ blind to not see I was serious about her compared to all the other bitches you’ve seen me with, Josh. Dammit, man. If I’d have known this shit, I could’ve approached Mr. Shaw a damn month ago and avoided the shit-storm headed my way. Hell, the least I could’ve done was get to know her brother Allen a little better. Not treated him like an irritating kid, but like a freakin’ friend. Had him in my corner. Shit!”

  “Whoa, whoa... Nuh uh, Leo. You don’t fuckin’ talk to David Shaw, especially about his daughter. Not if you plan on walking away with your balls still attached. You listening to me, man?”

  “And why the fuckin’ hell not, Josh?” I open my fourth beer and chug its entire contents in one upturn of the bottle before throwing it, smashing it against the side of the shed.

  “‘Cause, man. Just fuckin’ take my word for it. No one is good enough for Lil in Mr. Shaw’s eyes. Especially someone like us, dude. He’ll never let it fly. The only reason you got the time you got with Lil is because her parents have no fuckin’ clue that you even exist. We’re trash, man. Take what you got to have with Lil, take this summer. ‘Cause that’s all you’re ever gonna get with her.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m getting her forever. She’s mine, and goddammit, no one will take her away from me. No one. Mark my words, asshole. And get the fuck out of here. I got shit to do. Leave the beer. I’ll get you another twelve-pack later. AFTER I get finished at Lil’s house talking this shit out with he
r dad.”

  Sighing, Josh stands up, dragging his hands down his face, before he turns around and walks off. “It’s your fucking funeral buddy. Let me know when you need me, ‘cause your ass is gonna need me. Either to bail you outta jail or to peel you off the concrete, your ass is gonna need me.”

  “Whatever, Josh. Thanks for the beer, but don’t worry. I’ve got this shit handled.”

  I sit down on a cinderblock, open another beer and take a swig. Then I light up a cigarette. I let my mind go back over everything Josh just told me.

  Okay, so Mr. Shaw is gonna be a hard sell.

  I’ve never been good with authority figures—or authoritative assholes—but I think I can keep my mouth shut the fuck up long enough to hear what he has to say after I give him my spiel and my plans for Lil’s and my future.

  I can just say ‘Yes, sir,’ and ‘No, sir.’

  I can. And I will—for my little firecracker I’ll bite my damn tongue, be polite. I’ll make sure Mr. Shaw knows how much I love Lil and that I’d do anything in the world, in my power, to make my girl happy.

  And no matter what, I’ll keep my fuckin’ mouth shut about the baby.

  Because it doesn’t matter what Mr. Shaw wants. Once that baby makes itself known, there will be nothing keeping me away from my firecracker. Not one damn thing.

  A smile spreads across my face when I think about the ace I have up my sleeve. Excitement zips through my nerve endings. I stand up, pulling a long, deep drag off my cigarette before flicking it into the ashtray. Getting back to work, I let the heavy feeling and gut-twisting thoughts that my discussion with Josh caused to weigh my shoulders down and make me sick to my stomach slip away just like that. Just that easy.

  They can’t keep me away from Lil. I’m the father of her baby. I’m gonna marry my firecracker. And there isn’t a single fucking thing that will stop me either.

  The sun’s setting, and I’ve just finished sweeping out the shed. Everything’s been cleared out, and I got the fuse box working again so the lights work. “Not fuckin’ bad at all if I do say so myself.” I can’t help but feel proud of this little shed. It’s going to be the perfect place to get my bike fixed up.

  “Yep, fucking perfect,” I sigh then scoop up the last box of old shit I decided was ‘not trash’ and head around the house to put it on the front porch for Grands to go through when she gets a chance. I’ve just rounded the corner, the sun blinding me for a second. When I hear a car skidding to a stop in our gravel driveway, I lift my hand to block the sun.

  I know exactly who it is as soon as I lay eyes on David Shaw. The box in my hands slips from my grasp and hits the ground. “You motherfucking piece-of-shit punk!”

  The lump of brick lodged in my throat causes my words to come out choked. “Mr. Shaw, I was actually just about to hop in the shower and head to y’all’s house. I...ah... I’d like to speak to you and Mrs. Shaw if that’s okay. Is Mrs. Shaw with yo—”

  That’s all I get out before my head is splitting open on the concrete curb of the driveway. I go to open my mouth to tell him, “Mr. Shaw, I’m in love with your—” but my well-planned declaration is cut off by a barrel of a handgun being shoved so far into my mouth I’m gagging on it.

  Tears are flooding my eyes as the pressure from the gun in my mouth shoves the back of my head against the curb, pushing pieces of gravel and bark into the open wound.

  My fuckin’ world tilts off its axis.

  My damn vision tunnels.

  I shake my head, trying to stay conscious, but it only drives more grit and dirt into my head wound. I feel warm blood seep across the arch of my neck and run in rivulets down the skin, covering my spine.

  I gag more forcefully around the pistol’s barrel, trying hard to heave breaths in around both the barrel and my gagging.

  I’m not succeeding, and I feel myself being pulled into unconsciousness before Mr. Shaw’s words yank me back.

  “If you ever come near my daughter again, statutory rape charges won’t be your problem. As a matter of fact, you won’t have any problems at all. Listen to me, ‘cause I’ll only ever say this one time, you piece of shit. The next time my nine millimeter is in your mouth, I won’t just be putting a bullet in a chamber. I’ll put a bullet in your worthless head.”

  I’m still dry heaving and on the verge of passing out when he stands, jerking me up by my hair.

  Then I’m slammed against my car with the gun to my forehead when he delivers the final blow, the one that destroys whatever hope I ever had of keeping my firecracker. It shatters every-fucking-thing I ever thought was my life and future with Lillian.

  With these words, the man standing in front of me rips out my soul and throws it aside like the disgusting piece of trash that I am.

  “You didn’t really think Lillian would ever really want you, did you? Shit even as young as she is, she knows you’re nothing but a piece of shit trash. You’re white fucking trash, kid. She knows it. You know it. She doesn’t want anything from you. She never wants to fucking see you again. SHE called you white trash. SHE said she was never serious about you.”

  The motherfucker might as well have launched a torpedo into my chest and just sat back and watched. Unbearable, crippling pain explodes in my chest, shredding my insides like fucking shrapnel.

  I’m hollowed out of anything remotely resembling the man I was ten minutes ago. But he just keeps on letting his words crush and smear the wasted remains of the man who fell in love with the one, his one, his little firecracker.

  “Now if you hadn’t treated her like some low-life, piece-of-shit trashy bitch, the way I’m sure you treat all the other girls you hang around, I wouldn’t have to go to the extremes that I am—that I will—to ensure your trashy ass never speaks to my daughter again. See, I know that she said she doesn’t care about you, nor does she ever want to talk to you, much less see you again. But just to make damn sure that happens, I’m going to tell you what will be my first move as soon as I hear or find out that you’ve even tried to call Lil, tried to send her a note, any communication at all with my daughter. I swear to you that I’ll send her ass away, FAR away, and I’ll send your ass to jail. You’re eighteen, right?”

  I nod, but before I can get ‘Yes, sir’ out he’s back in my face with the gun, pushing into my head harder with every word he spits at me.

  “I want your ass outta town or I’ll have your ass thrown in jail for statutory rape. Never fucking talk to her again. Five years from now, you see her across the street, you turn around and walk your trashy piece-of-shit ass the other way. Understand me, son?”

  “Yes, sir,” comes through my gritted teeth.

  “Tonight, son. I want your ass to go back to wherever the fuck you came from tonight. Don’t make me send Lillian away from her family and friends because you’re too fucking selfish to do the right thing for once in your shitty life.”

  He turns around, gets in his car, and then he’s gone.

  “Holy fucking shit, dude! Are you fuckin’ okay?” Josh is standing beside me, and he rips his t-shirt off, holding it to the back of my head. “I was headed over here to help you out, but when I saw the gun, I just stayed back. No sense in both our asses getting shot.”

  I stagger around the back of the house and through the back door into my room, kicking my boots off and stripping down to my boxers. I fall beside the wall next to my bathroom and lean my shoulder against it until my room stops spinning.

  “Leo, you gotta go to the ER. Your head has a hole in it the size of a fucking baseball.”

  “I...juss gatta wassh thiss shit off firss... Juss gatta...”

  Shit, I’m gonna pass out. I hold on to the wall with one hand and slide my leaning shoulder against the wall until I’m in the bathroom.

  “Fuck. Here.” Josh turns on the shower, grabs me by the upper arm, and helps me get under the spraying water. “Leave your fuckin’ boxers on, dude. Sit the fuck down.”

  I can’t help but sit down.

  I slide
down the shower stall and feel Josh squirt shampoo on my head. “Use your own hands to wash your fuckin’ hair out, dude. You got mud and blood all matted up in it.”

  I have one hand barely keeping me upright and the other doing a half-assed job of scrubbing the shit out of my hair when I feel a soapy rag slap me on my shoulder.

  “I got it all soapy. Just wash up real quick. Here’s your towel and some dry boxers. You got five minutes before I knock. If you don’t say you’re ready, then I’m going to go get my ma and have her ass drag you outta the shower, you hear me?”

  “Fuck ya.” My head falls forward under the shower spray, and I use the rag to wash off. Once I hear the door close, I use the hand on the wall that’s been holding me up to lean back and lie down.

  Then I use both my hands to get the wet boxers off. I pick the rag back up and start washing the dirt and grit off my face for a second before the anguish takes over any strength I have left and both my arms fall to my sides.

  All I can do is lie there, shoulders shaking from my silent sobs. I just lie there and fucking cry. I don’t know how long I’m in the damn shower crying like a fucking baby.

  Josh’s knocking on the door pulls me from my bitch-ass pussy crying spell. “Man, you all right? You ready?”

  “No! Juss hang on!” I use my foot to turn off the water and roll over onto my stomach, heaving myself up with both hands. I wrap the towel around my waist and sit on the closed toilet lid, dry off, and pull my boxers up. When I look down, I see blood all over the floor and walls. It’s fucking everywhere. “Kay, commin, gatta go, Joss. Too much blahd, dooo.”

  The door opens and I hear Josh scream, “Shit! Somebody fuckin’ HELP!”

  Then I’m falling forward, my head is going face-first into the bathroom floor tile. Thank God I black the fuck out before I hit.

  When I wake up, I’m confused. I can’t remember the last thing that happened. I have no idea where the hell I’m at or what the fuck I did to my face, throat, and the back of my head.

  Shit, was I in another fight? I’ve been doing better keeping my cool since moving here. I try to think back... I don’t have any problems with anybody. Shit, do I?