Brody

by Victoria H. Smith

  El Paso… Texas? That was a step closer. I could do that. And now, I knew the origin of his accent—Texas. He was from Texas.

  That silence hit us again, lingering like a large elephant in the truck.

  “I’m Brody, by the way,” he said, his words so sudden they caused me to jump. They also made my heart flip flop in the large seat of this truck.

  He glanced my way, but didn’t linger like he was expecting a response. He simply glanced, then his gaze went back to the road.

  It wasn’t good to give up too much information about myself, but a name might be okay. I swallowed, dampening my mouth. “Alexa. Some people call me Alex, though.”

  What friends I still had. Family… Why did I tell him that?

  “Can I call you Alex then?” he asked, again, not staring expectantly.

  As of now, he seemed to be an ally. I wouldn’t use the word friend, though. He glanced at me again and I nodded awkwardly under his gaze.

  I looked away quickly, staring out the window and listening to the eighteen-wheeler’s hum. Sleep dragged down on my eyes, days of uneasiness and my body on edge for so many reasons, but I wouldn’t succumb to it. I knew better than to sleep in front of strangers. Men in particular. I knew better.

  Pushing my hands under my arms, I curled up against the door, trying to stay warm. Tonight had been chilly.

  My lashes fanned when heat from the truck’s vents suddenly warmed my face. I turned slightly, catching Brody pull his hand away from the truck’s heating and cooling buttons. I didn’t think he intended on being caught. He didn’t acknowledge what he did at all, simply adjusted the bill on his hat before placing his hand back on the wheel.

  I lay my head against the window again. This stranger was sure surprising me.

  Brody

  The heat helped. She finally allowed her eyes to close, her head of wavy hair lying against the door. I’d been watching her for a while. Not directly, but with stealth. She’d been fighting sleep for miles. I was glad she finally allowed herself to give in to it.

  I didn’t judge folks. It wasn’t my way, but I was ninety percent sure this girl was a prostitute. All the signs were there—on the outside anyway. There was the way she dressed and presented herself with her physical appearance, then of course, the incident at the diner. That ten percent that she might not be was really buggin’ me, though. She didn’t… act like a prostitute, if that made sense. She completely back-pedaled from that guy and looked absolutely mortified on that bathroom floor by what was happening. Sex workers didn’t do that. “Lot lizards” as some of the guys in the other rigs called them. Was she a first timer? I didn’t know. All I did know was that her name was Alex and Alex was trying to get to California.

  A couple hours later, I learned something else about the girl riding with me. She wore a watch and its alarm went off like a shot clock at a basketball game.

  The beeping pulled Alex instantly out of sleep, startling me as well. Again, another odd thing about her. Who made their watch go off at random times like that? It was well after midnight. And if someone needed to do, it they usually set their cellphone. Did she not have a cellphone? The whole thing all seemed off to me.

  Alex shut the sound off immediately. After she did, she gazed around frantically, her fingers clutching her chest. Her other hand pushed into her hair and she had a far off look in her eyes like she was lost or something. Shit, maybe she was. She seemed so disoriented.

  “Alex?” I asked, trying to make solid eye contact with her.

  Her eyes flashed my way, body breathy and shaking.

  I raised my hand, patting the air gently, soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s okay, you’re safe. It’s me, Brody. We’re just driving, traveling together.”

  At my words, she seemed to come out of it. Relief swept her face. Pushing the bright hair away that matted to her sweaty brow, she swallowed hard. I’d managed to calm her and bring her down a bit. I was glad.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, letting out a breath. She let her head fall back against the seat, crossing her arms. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I guess I forgot where I was for a second.”

  I wondered where this woman had been and if she woke up in a new place every night. I wanted to know her story, but I didn’t want to push her or risk overstepping my boundaries. In the end, I smiled at her. “I figured you might be disoriented. And you can sleep. It’s all right.”

  Though, she did turn her head to look at me, I lost her gaze just as easy. She stared upon the road before us and I knew she didn’t feel sleeping was all right. She was so closed off. She had a large seat in this truck, but she curled herself up into a tight pocket of it.

  She raised her wrist, studying her watch for a moment as if she had some place to be. But saying it was late was an understatement and the girl was clearly a wanderer. Her needing to be somewhere at a certain time didn’t make sense.

  She lowered her wrist, biting her lip, and I quickly gazed away, back to the dark world ahead.

  “Will we be stopping at a motel soon? You know, to rest?”

  She really was nervous to let herself sleep. I had a feeling people before me messed that up for her. I glanced over at her, tapping the steering wheel. “I don’t usually do motels. The company doesn’t pay from them. I have a bed in the back. I usually sleep in my truck.”

  She gnawed her lip at that and I quickly said, “You know what? Never mind. I can look for one. No big deal. I haven’t seen anything in a decent amount of miles. We’re bound to come up on one soon.”

  Dishing out funds I knew I wouldn’t get back didn’t sound ideal. Especially, after I pretty much cleaned myself out of cash with that guy at the diner. But I would so she could be comfortable. I wanted her to trust me. We had a lot of miles together and I didn’t want her uneasy during them.

  “I… I can’t ask you to do that. Spend more money after what you…” She bit her lip. “Do you usually stop at a truck stop or something? I’m sure I can find a bench to lie on and stretch out. I don’t want to be a bother to you.”

  She’d actually rather sleep on a bench than in my truck? Again, seemed odd. She had been so hesitant to sleep around just me, but had no problems doing so publically. Was it because more people would be around or something else? “Yeah, I usually stay at a truck stop, but you wouldn’t be inconveniencing me. I can stop if that’s what you need and don’t worry about before. I was happy to step in. It’s just money, and well, that could have been your life.”

  My words sent a light shining behind her eyes, another sparkle, except this time it wasn’t because of tears. A full smile graced her face, one that sent my heart soaring that I put it there.

  She reached into her shirt and when she pulled out several twenty dollar bills, I raised my hand in protest.

  “Keep it,” I said. She needed it more than I did.

  Nodding, she slipped the money back into her shirt. Setting her hands on her lap, she turned my way. “I want you to stop at the truck stop. I can sleep there.”

  “How about I do, but you sleep in the truck. I’ll pull some blankets and stay up here, and you can use my bed.”

  Her mouth parted and I realized exactly how forward that sounded. I’d broken ground, and now, I was stomping all over my work. I lifted my hands. “Nothing funny, I swear. You’ll have complete privacy. There’s a curtain separating here from the back and everything. You’ll know if someone tries to open it, too. The hooks creak like a bitch on the bar. Hell, I have a padlock too to keep it closed if you feel that’s necessary—”

  She laughed and the sound reminded me of wind chimes. She shook her head. “I think it’s okay to do without that last part and thank you.”

  In a few miles, I got us to a truck stop I’d frequented before. It was one of the nicer ones and actually had a nice little restaurant there. Perhaps Alex would like to get breakfast in the morning. Maybe I could get to know her a little better. She’d checked her watch several times during the drive, and the minute I
parked, she was unbuckling herself.

  “I’m just going to go use the bathroom,” she said, opening the door.

  I unbuckled mine. “You actually don’t have to do that. I got a small one in the rig. I recommend it anyway. You never know the conditions of their bathroom and I always keep up on mine.”

  I was convincing her more for myself at this point. Images of earlier sent flashes in my mind. Her in the bathroom… on the floor and crying. I wanted to be able to keep an eye on her. She seemed like she needed me.

  Her gaze left me and went to the door handle in her hand and my heart thumped, bouncing around with unease.

  Please stay.

  The anxiety left instantly the moment she dropped her hand from the door. She nodded, standing when I did. I tried not to look too relieved that she decided not to go. I didn’t want her thinking I was weird for wanting her to stay.

  I led her back the few steps to the back of the rig. The bed was collapsible to make room for seating at my small table. I ate there and played cards sometimes. I lowered the bed for her, getting out fresh blankets from the above cubbyholes.

  She sat curtly on the edge of the bed, checking for springiness when she bounced on her heels, and the entire image peaked in cuteness. I handed her the blankets and she took them.

  “Bathroom is in there.” I pointed to the right at the door separating the back from the front of the rig. “It isn’t much. More like a port-a-potty with a sink to wash your face and brush your teeth, but it is clean, I assure you. I got a spare toothbrush in there, too. It’s unopened and there’s soap in the cabinet above the sink.”

  She nodded. Her eyes flashed away and she smoothed her hands across the bedding I gave her. I got to see another one of those smiles when she did.

  Brown eyes looked up at me from under dark eyelashes. A smile touched there with their soft creases, too. “Thanks, Brody. For everything.”

  Chapter Four

  Alexa

  His sheets smelled like him; masculine with that something sweet.

  I pushed my cheek softly against the pillow, my nose, then my lips lightly next. Is this what it felt like to be close to him? The comfort and ease of him...

  I waited about an hour sleeping in his sheets, wrapped up in the scent of him. I told myself it was because I needed to be sure. I needed to be sure Brody had settled in for the night up front and that sleep had taken him so I could sneak away. I’d waited too long already and I had to go. I knew the real reason I’d stayed rested against his pillow was the same reason I didn’t leave his truck in the first place, though.

  I liked that Brody wanted me to stay here tonight. I liked being in his bed, which in itself was just incredibly stupid. He was most definitely one of two things. One, a pervert like most men I found myself around lately, or two, had a wife; a pretty one who was real nice and the two had made an even more perfect child between them. The latter made more sense.

  I turned my face away from the pillow, mentally kicking myself for my thoughts of him. I couldn’t put him on some type of pedestal because he helped me. My guard still had to be up. I couldn’t afford for it not to be.

  I pushed his bedding down, checking my watch.

  Past time to go.

  I never undressed into the spare t-shirt I had or washed up for bed like Brody said I could. Being fully dressed, all I had to do was slip my boots back on and grab my bag. I did so quietly. I couldn’t wake him up.

  When I stood to my feet, the tied curtain ahead worried me. Brody said it creaked on the bar above. I had to take the chance.

  Untying, being careful, I slipped through the drawn curtains, bending my body easily like a choreographed move.

  I wouldn’t let my thoughts linger on the fluidity of that move or that it had been rehearsed to be that easy at one time in my life. I got to the truck’s door. I didn’t want to look back at Brody, but I had to for a visual so I could escape unseen.

  He sat in his chair, large body curled up in such a small space. He was quite large, big. I’d probably mistake him for a laborer, a man who worked with his hands all day if I didn’t know he was a truck driver. I assumed he was asleep. He had his head leaned back against the window, the bill of his cap pulled down over his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest.

  I reached for the handle and pulled, and with only a click, the large door opened with ease. The internal truck light that came on wasn’t bright but I needed to extinguish it quickly.

  I was out and into the parking lot within seconds with the truck door closed behind me. Once I was out, I didn’t look back. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. I had no time.

  The truck stop felt cold in its emptiness. A woman inside swept and looked up when I opened the door. She had messy blonde hair and seemed tired with the light bags under her eyes. It was late.

  I approached her. “Do you have a pay phone?”

  Her gaze went back to the floor, her hands sweeping. “In the back. Near the bathrooms.”

  My heart jolted at the location. What happened tonight was still too fresh. I pushed past the feeling, heading back there. I was actually willing to sleep at this truck stop, on a public bench when I knew better than sleeping around strangers, just to have access to a phone. I could get over being near the bathrooms for a few seconds. I had to.

  The pay phone hung on the wall where she said. I pulled the receiver down to my ear, listening for a dial tone while I wrestled with my bag for a few quarters. I didn’t hear anything on the other end of the phone and my stomach dropped, my heart thudding.

  In a panic, I flicked at the metal piece on the box, trying to prompt a dial tone. I did so several times before I tugged the phone from my ear. When I did, the telephone cord pulled out of the phone box completely.

  My heart sunk even more.

  I slammed the phone back onto the box, the tears of frustration watering my eyes.

  They fell as I leaned on the phone box, my body defeated and spent. All the things I’d done, made myself do, and I couldn’t even call…

  My eyes blinked down more tears and I caught my reflection on the box’s silver plating. Red rimmed eyes stared back at me. I had cried so much tonight. I’d been crying a lot lately, nightly. Leaving California had been nothing but a mistake. I knew that now. I was paying for it every day.

  Why had I been so selfish?

  I thought what I was doing was for the best, that I was doing right by creating an opportunity. It was one that wasn’t just for me, and look how that turned out?

  I shook my head, pushing my fingers underneath my eyes. The black mascara that coated my fingertips disgusted me, how it hid me and made me something I wasn’t.

  Rubbing my arm across my lips, red lipstick smeared on my dark skin. The girl in the reflection could have tarnished the metal with her broken image.

  I gazed away from her, charging off. The lady who swept met my eyes first. She was behind the pay counter now, leaning on it. I approached her, a clear shake wavering my body.

  “The phone back there is broken.” I didn’t mean for the snap in my voice, but the frustrations weighing down my life made me erupt. My anger only blazed more when the woman looked up, eyeing me briefly before casting me off.

  She grabbed her cellphone off the counter, clicking on it. “You asked where the phone was. Not if it worked.”

  My jaw clenched hard, but seeing the woman with the one thing I needed kept me sane, calm. I swallowed to make sure my voice came out right for the request.

  “Can I use yours?” I asked her.

  She gazed up again, but again made it only brief before going back to her phone. “I ain’t no pay phone, doll.”

  “You can use mine, baby.”

  Chills covered my skin at the words. I didn’t recognize the voice, but the tone… The suggestion of it… I recognized all too well.

  I turned on my heel slowly, hesitantly. A man stared at me holding a case of beer. He was older than me, but not by too much. Maybe la
te twenties, early thirties. He had dark skin like mine and the way he appraised my body wasn’t lost on me.

  He reached into his pocket, drawing out a black phone, and I could only stare at it, then back at him. I was fully clothed, but this man’s gaze blazed a nakedness over me. It was like I knew what he was thinking about and envisioning. This man wasn’t just presenting his phone. No way he was. What was fucked up was I knew how I looked. Mascara runny, lipstick smeared. Despite that he wanted me anyway. He wanted to…

  I forced myself to give him a smile, no matter how his suggestive gaze made me feel.

  Casually, I turned back to the woman. “Can you send out a text for me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, he just said you could use his phone.”

  I curled my fingers on the counter, my eyes watering again. I didn’t do it on purpose. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. “Please.”

  She finally gave me her full attention, looked into my eyes, and suddenly she didn’t seem so distant, cold.

  She rose up. “What do you want it to say?”

  Breathing in, I gave a small internal prayer of thanks. “Not much. Just that this is Alex and I’m unable to talk tonight, but I’ll call tomorrow at the scheduled time. I swear I will.”

  I wanted to say more. I wanted to say so many things more. The words this woman was allowing me were limited, though. I knew that.

  “Number?” she asked.

  I told her quietly. I didn’t want the man behind me to know. I stood there, watching until I knew she sent the message. I faced the man and he looked insulted like he wanted to say something or do something. I breezed away from him before he could, not looking back. He still had to pay for his beers. That bought me time to get back.

  Get back to Brody.

  I headed to the truck quickly, silent. The ease I felt as I got closer, didn’t make sense to me. But the moment, I opened the door, slipped back in, and closed it behind me, I understood. That guy inside the truck stop made me feel naked, violated, but with this truck’s door closed behind me, I no longer felt that way.