by Harley Fox
Merryn nods, sniffs, sits herself up more in the bed.
“We should go,” she says, her voice thick.
“Fuck that nurse,” Emily says. “We’ll stay here as long as we want.”
“No,” Merryn says. “We should go.”
“I can drive you,” I blurt out, and all three women turn their heads. “I have a car. I can drive you …” I’m about to say home and I think Merryn knows it, because her lower lips starts trembling again. Trista cuts in.
“You can stay with me,” she says, looking back at Merryn. “We’ll go get some stuff and you can stay with me, until this all blows over.”
Merryn blinks two fat tears out and holds Trista’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you,” she says. And then she pulls in a fast breath and lets it out. “Okay. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Trista and Emily get up from the edge of the bed as Merryn start pushing the sheets back, revealing her gown-covered body. Her belly looks huge. She looks up at me, still sitting on the bed.
“Um … sorry, I don’t actually …”
“Oh, Lance,” I say, realizing she doesn’t know my name. “My name is Lance Rush.”
“Lance,” she says. “Would you mind leaving while we change back into our clothes?”
“Oh!” I say. Heat blossoms up my neck. “Yeah, of course. Sorry.”
And with that I quickly leave the room, hearing Emily let out a single small laugh as I do.
I’m in the hallway for fifteen minutes before the door opens and Merryn, Trista, and Emily come out. Trista is walking close to Merryn, poised ready to grab her arm in case she falls. But Merryn’s ambling along on her own. Emily is using her crutches, and though she’s holding her chest inward and wearing a grimace on her face, she’s still moving at a good pace.
“Do you want any help?” I ask the group at large. “I could get some wheelchairs.”
Merryn shakes her head, as does Emily.
“No, I think we’re all right,” Merryn says.
Tough, I think, but I don’t say it.
“Okay, well let me go get my car and I’ll meet you at the exit.”
They nod and I stride ahead as they slowly move in the same direction. I leave the hospital and walk to the parking lot, finding my car. Jake’s bike is gone. I get in and turn the car on, leave the spot, make my way around and park outside the doors, keeping the engine idling in case anybody comes and tells me to move it.
Nobody does, and eventually the sliding doors open and the three make their way out. I get out and start to come around to open the doors for them, but they get there before me and need no help. So I get back in the driver’s seat, waiting for them all to close. Emily’s in the front again, Trista and Merryn in the back.
“So … where to?” I ask.
“I’ll direct you,” Emily says, and I leave the hospital grounds as she leads me through the city. In the back neither Merryn nor Trista say anything. Finally Emily tells me to turn into a small alley, quiet, lined with squashed-together apartments on one side, garages on the other.
We move along slowly until Emily points.
“You can park up there,” she says, and I do, turning the car off as we all get out.
Emily takes out a key and opens up the door to an apartment. I guess she lives here too, with Merryn and Jake. No sign of a bike. He’s not here. Probably for the best.
Merryn’s started crying again, although she’s not making any sound. Trista walks slowly beside her. Emily’s the first in through the door, followed by me, Merryn and Trista bringing up the rear.
I follow Emily as she goes up all these stairs on her crutches. We reach the top and I see a modest, but comfortable, living room. Couch, coffee table, TV near the window. Up against the opposite wall is a dining table, pushed up so only three spots are available. To the side, along the wall, is a hallway that leads to more rooms, and that’s where Emily heads.
“What can I do?” I ask her, hearing Merryn and Trista slowly come up the stairs behind me.
“You can help us pack,” she says without turning around. So I follow her down the hallway, past the kitchen and bathroom. Emily walks into the door at the end, her bedroom. There’s the thin door of a linen closet, which means the other door must be to Merryn and Jake’s room.
“Come on in,” Emily calls from her room. I step inside. She’s walking around her bed to a closet at the far end. Opening it, she starts rummaging around. I walk around to meet her. “I have some broken down boxes in here,” she tells me. “We can use those.”
“Okay,” I say. Seeing the way she’s balancing on her crutches with one hand, using the other to push things aside, I ask, “Do you need any help?”
She pauses just long enough to turn and look at me. She doesn’t look angry, or offended. But the expression on this girl’s, this teenager’s, face makes it clear that she doesn’t need any.
“No,” she says. “Thanks for asking, though.”
She goes back to rummaging and I stand, feeling useless, not doing anything, not saying anything.
Finally Emily pulls out some flat cardboard and she hands it to me, pulling the rest out. I lay them down on the bed and start assembling boxes. When Emily’s got them all out she joins me.
“How many do you think we need?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. She’ll need clothes, toiletries, maybe some books. Baby stuff. That bag she put together for when she goes into labor.”
She isn’t looking at me as she talks. It’s clear from her tone how she feels about all this. I pick up one of the boxes.
“I’ll go start getting things put together.”
Emily nods, staying where she is as I walk back around her bed and leave her room. I hear low voices coming from the living room so I walk down the hall. When I reach the end I see Merryn and Trista sitting on the couch together, the backs of their heads to me. Merryn’s frame is shaking, and Trista’s stroking her hair.
I clear my throat, making Trista turn to look.
“Um,” I hold up the box. She nods, says something to Merryn, and then gets up off the couch, leaving Merryn there. Trista comes to join me.
“Come on,” she says, and she leads the way to the end of the hall, looking at the door to the left, then opening it up and stepping in.
This room looks much more adult than Emily’s. Trista makes for the closet, pulling it open and pushing things to the side. I put the box down on their bed.
“She told me some of the stuff she wants to take,” Trista says, pulling down clothes off the hangers and handing them to me. I start to stuff them into the box, but Trista stops me. “Fold them first,” she says, so I take everything out and fold items of clothing as she removes them from the closet and, after, the dresser. Emily shows up with a box of her own, talks to Trista about needs to be taken, then goes to get toiletries.
They’re both acting so … nonchalant about the situation. Like they’re approaching it with a cold attitude. They aren’t fighting back, they aren’t yelling or complaining to one another about this. If I were in the same situation, I don’t know if I’d be able to do what they’re doing with such a level head. I think I’d tear the place apart instead.
It takes us about half an hour but we three finally get Merryn’s items packed up. Trista and I each carry a full box back out and down the hallway. Emily’s is already at the top of the stairs, and she’s on the couch now, sitting with Merryn. A heaviness settles in the air as Trista and I put our boxes down.
“Merryn,” Trista says. “It’s time to go.”
I can’t see Merryn’s face. But I can see Emily’s, sitting on Merryn’s other side. She’s crying, that look of anger back in her eyes and in her cheeks.
“My brother,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. Merryn puts a hand on Emily’s but Emily just shakes her head. “He’s such a fucking bastard!”
“It’s okay.” Merryn’s voice. She sounds like the calmest one of them all. “Do
n’t be mad, Emily. He’s just doing what he thinks is right.”
Emily sniffs wetly, stands up from the couch.
“I’m coming with you!” she declares. “I don’t want to be under the same roof as him.”
But to my surprise Merryn shakes her head.
“No Emily, it’s okay,” she says. “I’ll be fine. Trista’s going to take care of me.”
Tears run down Emily’s face. “I’ll talk to him, then. I’ll tell him he’s being a big fucking idiot if he thinks this is what’s right.”
Merryn nods. “Okay. Thank you.”
She slowly stands up, Emily helping her to her feet. When Merryn turns I see that her face is dry. Dry and emotionless. She looks up at me.
“Thank you,” she says. “For all of this.”
I have to swallow. “It’s no trouble,” I say.
She gives me a weak smile, but it falls away as though it has nothing to stick to. And then she makes to go downstairs as Trista goes with her, the two taking the stairs slowly, Emily standing at the couch and me standing at the top of the stairs, neither of us saying anything. When Merryn and Trista have reached the bottom I pick up a box and carry it down, reaching the bottom quickly, unlocking the car so Merryn and Trista can get in, opening the trunk to put away the boxes.
I go up two more times for the other ones, and at the top of the third trip I look over at Emily, who’s sitting down on the couch now.
“Well,” I say. She looks up at me.
“Well,” she says.
Neither of us say anything else. I take the box down and close the front door behind me, not having a key to lock it. Box in the trunk, and then I close it. The others are already in the car. I climb in the front, turning it on.
“I can direct you,” Trista says while Merryn remains silent. I put the car into Drive and we leave.
Jake
The wind feels good on my face — cool, invigorating — but my mind is still full of pain, confusion, and anger.
Merryn. She got what she deserved. Go behind my back like that. What did she expect? That I’d just lay down and take it? That I’d roll over whenever she told me to? I’m a man, God damn it! I’m Jake Hawksley! Nobody tells me how to live my life!
Then why are you telling Merryn how to live hers?
The streets whip by. Cars, pedestrians … they’re all just objects I have to avoid. They don’t mean anything. Nothing in this town means anything to me anymore. Will Silver got away again. We could have had the drop on him, but Merryn fucked it all up!
Actually, it was Merryn who told you where to meet Will Silver. She was the reason you went.
Yeah, and that was a trap! The whole time! And she had no idea!
She was acting for the greater good. She put her trust in someone, by all means, she shouldn’t have trusted.
Yes, exactly!
But didn’t she do the same with you? If she never trusted you enough to stay with you when you first met, you’d have never ended up together.
I take a hard left, forcing some oncoming traffic to slam on their brakes, the loud blare of their horn following me for a few seconds before it stops.
It’s in her nature to trust. It’s in her nature to love. Isn’t that what you like best about her? She’s everything you want to be.
Shut up! This isn’t helping things. It doesn’t help me get to Will Silver any faster.
But what’s the point of killing Will Silver if it means losing Merryn in the process?
My heart is pounding. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I pull over, braking quickly to a stop, and lean over the side of my bike, but nothing happens. I don’t vomit. My heart is still going too fast. I feel light-headed. The thought, the notion, of Merryn not being in my life anymore … it makes me shudder to think about.
But isn’t that what you did? You kicked her out.
I … I kicked her out. I was angry. I didn’t mean … I mean, I didn’t …
No! She fucked up, and now she has to face the consequences.
Spitting onto the sidewalk I start riding again, picking up speed, heading up north toward the Chain Gang.
I arrive and park my bike, then walk inside. There’s music playing, some light rock. Ruby’s at the bar, and people are sitting around, drinking, talking with one another. Some raise a hand in greeting when they see me.
“Jake!” Abby says. Jeremy’s here too, sitting in the same group. “How’s Merryn doing? And your sister?”
“Ah,” I say. “They’re fine.”
“These two told us what happened at the Bullets’ place,” Dave tells me. “They said Merryn was going into labor?”
“It … ended up being a false alarm,” I tell him. Everybody’s looking at me. All I can think of is Merryn on the hospital bed, tears in her eyes as I yelled.
“So she didn’t have the baby?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Well, I’m glad she’s all right,” Abby says. “And your sister?”
“Just some broken ribs,” I tell her. Emily, that angry, shocked look on her face. “She’s fine.”
“Good,” Jeremy says. “Things at the warehouse didn’t last much longer after you left. The fight kinda fizzled out of us. We talked … all of us, even the Bullets. We all basically agreed Will Silver was out of line. It was weird, hearing them say it. We helped the Slingers with Skeeze’s body, putting it on one of their bikes so they could bury him. I guess they’re still doing that.”
A hitching breath catches my ear and I realize for the first time that Kash, that Slinger who stayed here, is still here. She’s dry-eyed but it looks like she’s been crying. First her boyfriend died and now Skeeze. She’s sitting on the couch, staring at a spot on the floor.
“Yeah,” I say, not sure what else to say. “Will Silver. Out of line.”
Several nods of agreement. “That guy had no right, doing what he did,” Mandy says. “Holding Merryn hostage like that? Disgusting.”
A pang in my heart.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I tell them.
“Oh yeah, of course. Take a seat, man.”
“Actually, I think I’m going to sit at the bar. Just … unwind a bit.”
“Oh, right right. Yeah.”
So I turn and leave the group, walking over to where Ruby’s standing. She has a pitying look on her face.
“Hey Jake,” she says as I grab a seat at the bar. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah.”
Ruby reaches down and takes a bottle out from a mini fridge under the bar. We still haven’t had the draft system replaced, so all we have is bottles. She twists the cap off and puts it on the bar in front of me. I pick it up and drain half of it.
“Seems we can’t get a break, eh Jake?”
I nod, not saying anything.
“But Merryn’s doing all right? I heard about what happened.”
I take another swig and set the bottle down. “Actually Ruby … I just kind of want to be alone for a bit, if that’s all right.”
Another look of pity. “Sure thing, hon. You call if you need anything.”
She grabs the bottle of beer she’s been working on and steps out from behind the bar, walking over to join the others sitting. I’m alone now. All alone.
I take sips of beer, feeling the cold, fizzy liquid cover my tongue, fill my mouth with gas, a blast of refreshment hitting me as its bitterness crawls down my throat. Looking around, the wreckage of the bar is still obvious. Evidence of what the Bullets did to us. A lot of it has been fixed up. A lot. Merryn was the one who spearheaded a lot of that. Most of us were depressed, despondent. She pushed us to work, used some of her college training to help us realize that we needed to get through what was bugging us in order to make things better, not to let that depression get the better of us.
She did this. She made it happen.
And now she’s gone. It’s like all the things that her being gone will mean are trickling into my brain, one at a time.
Without he
r, when we renovate this place, it’ll be … well, it’ll just be a place. A bar. Just a building with tables and windows and beer. It won’t have Merryn’s touch, her insistence and influence. Like my life. My life before her. Just the same thing, every day. Cold, mechanical. To the point. Only existing because the alternative is death.
Is that a life worth living? A life without the person who brings real life into you? Before Merryn I was … empty inside. Hollow. Since she came into my life it’s like I’ve been given the ability to see color, whereas before all I could see was black and white.
I go to lift the beer bottle again, but then I think, What’s the point? What’s the point of this all? Renovating the bar again. Being in a gang at all. If life is just a series of meaningless, flavorless events, then what’s the point in going on at all?
I turn my head just a bit, just enough to watch the group sitting around together, talking, enjoying each other’s company. They seem fine. They don’t seem to be worried about these types of things. Why can’t I be like that? Why do I have to let my anger take control, create havoc, ruin everything in my life?
And not only that … but what am I going to do about it?
I’ve kicked Merryn out. The realization of what that implies is slowly dawning on me. She won’t be at home anymore. I’ll walk in and she’ll be gone. She probably won’t come to this bar anymore. And our baby … I might not see our baby.
The front door opens and three people walk in. The Slingers. Before now, if they walked in here it would be cause for an uproar, maybe guns being pulled out, lives being threatened. But now?
“Hey, Slingers!”
Jeremy lifts his bottle of beer in greeting.
They walk over. They look somber and I wonder why before remembering about Skeeze. Kash looks up from where she’s sitting. She doesn’t smile.
“Kash,” Beaner says. “You okay?”
She sniffs, a dry sound. Nods.
“We’re sorry to hear about Skeeze,” Mandy says. “Fucking shame.”
“Yeah,” Beaner replies. “Well. I guess that’s the type of life we live.”
“We just came to get Kash,” Aces tells them. “And then we’ll get our of your hair.”