Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "Vincentimir?" The woman pressed him for an answer, while the others watched. Growing more annoyed, Hans scowled at his watch and then crossed his arms to glower at the fidgeting teenager.

  Vincent removed one of his hands from his sweatshirt to run his fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs back and then wishing that they were obscuring his face again. "I'm living with someone." He confessed without too much trouble, taking a breath afterwards and looking around to weaken how intimidating Richard's gaze was. She was staring at him, never looking a way. A black sneaker tapped the tiles and a tongue flitted over the pale lips that then mumbled. "So…I've got to get back, and all…you know?"

  Vincent's attempt to persuade his audience to see his logic failed when Richard rebuffed it. "No. You can eat dinner with us and then we can drop you off wherever you would like to be dropped off. And…I would like to know where you are currently living so we can find you if we need to."

  Vincent licked his lips. "…I'm actually still finding a new place to live right now, and I'm just living where I'm like…living right now, for only a little while. So…I'll tell you when I figure all that out, but for now I need to get back and you guys probably need to go so you aren't late."

  Hans nodded at this and wanted to get his wife's attention, but she spoke before he could reach out to touch her arm.

  "We have all the time in the world Vincentimir. We'll wait here until you decide we can get in the car and go. You will be joining us."

  We don't have any time, echoed in the minds of the faces that stared at Richard, becoming weary of this pointless struggle to deny what had been fated to happen as soon as Richard had made up her mind. It was obvious that Vincent was powerless against her. And he saw it clearly, just how easily she could manipulate him with his guilt. It was like she was simply wrapping a string around her finger, tightening it with a hang-man's knot. Struggling only made the knot tighter.

  No one could oppose Richard, so, although her husband scowled and moved his lips with mute mutterings, the party made its way to the garage to get in the Rolls Royce that made Vincent freeze and automatically dub it 'The Rich-Ass Car', so that the family would not miss their reservation.

  Awkwardness reigned supreme under Richard's undisputed leadership. Vincent sat stiff and miserable in The Fancy-Ass Car's leather backseat directly behind the driver's seat, next to William, who was in the middle, while Rodriguez sat on the other side of the girl. It was quiet as they backed out of the garage and then left the property to enter the public roads. Time became a viscous, oozing slop when questions came again, seemingly only for the purpose of strengthening the power of the awkwardness in the car.

  Richard seemed merciless tonight.

  "Vincentimir."

  She obtained the miserable, defeated teen's attention and he looked up sullenly, dreading whatever she would say, unless she was going to somehow dethrone the awkwardness that depressed him. "Yeah?" He murmured when she didn't continue.

  "Is your wife male or female?"

  Oh God! Vincent crumpled, mortally wounded as he held his head between his hands and shut his eyes, mouthing 'Fuck' and 'No' so that no one could hear or know of his inner turmoil. The question scandalized the others. The woman's offspring gaped. Rodriguez, specifically, was mortified by his mother's behavior.

  Hans was slightly amused, sharing his wife's dark sense of humor.

  Vincent couldn't answer. He was dead; lifeless, cold, a carcass that would shortly be shoved out the car door as it would begin to decay. Dead. …Dead, dead, dead.

  "Is your wife pretty?"

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck no. Oh hell, fuck, no, no , no. God no. Vincent was shaking his head, giving the impression of a creature that was writhing in pain.

  "How many children do you have?"

  Oh. Red eyes popped open, and his body stilled. The Rodriguez siblings grimaced in unison and diverted their eyes from their mother, pitying Vincent. But why should they?

  This was an easy question for Vincent to answer. And answer he did, to their utter amazement.

  "Two."

  Richard's blood chilled, cold horror for the idea of Vincent being involved in any kind of teen pregnancy. But then that didn't fit the boy. A kid who told girls that they look like a rat in order to compliment them could not fit the image she was thinking of. So the woman calmed and then frowned, bemused by his response. She was not driving, so she could freely invest the little bit of effort it took to look back at the teen who was comfortable enough to grin at her weakly. She watched for a while, her children doing the same while Hans showed no change, his face blank.

  "You have two children, Vincentimir?"

  "Yup." The grin strengthened with humor that befuddled Rodriguez while William entertained a small smile.

  "Really?" Richard spoke a little flatly, showing she was not convinced, but at this point all knew that Vincent was not being serious.

  "Well, they're more like pets, you know? Feed 'em, clean up after them when they make a mess, water them, teach 'em tricks like to come or fetch stuff for you when you're too damn lazy to get up off your butt."

  Richard snorted and turned to sit properly in her seat, though she continued to speak to the boy. "Is that what children are for?"

  William chuckled, and Rodriguez looked at her, unable to laugh as of yet. His nerves were too stunned to interpret any messages that might be coming from his brain.

  "Cleaning out their cage is the hardest part about keeping them."

  "Cages for your kids?" Having forgotten that William was sitting next to him, Vincent flinched a little when she spoke. Then he smiled, and Rodriguez slowly smiled as well.

  "They're more like pets though, and they aren't really mine. I just borrow them once in a while because they're fun."

  "What do they do?" William was in command of the conversation now that Richard had backed down to become a listener.

  "What do they do?"

  "How are they fun?"

  "Well." Vincent looked at his lap and decided to utilize his idle hands, demonstrating what he described. "They do tricks, like you let them run off and then you call their names and snap or whistle or something and then they'll come running. And whenever you have food they go to the bars of the cage and climb on them or just stand on their hind legs with their little paws on the bar, sniffing and looking at you with their big eyes and whiskers. They cuddle and climb all over you and take food and munch down on it or hide it so you'll give them more. And then they lick you and…and, I dunno. They're just kinda cute and stuff. Really affectionate and fun to play with."

  While the others smiled at what Vincent described, with the exception of Hans, William beamed, her lips close to trembling as she waited a few seconds, to make sure Vincent was done.

  "You're talking about rats!" She laughed, surprising Vincent, but her grin was consoling. "You are, aren't you? You and the rats again."

  The others were surprised, to some varying degree, and it took Vincent a moment to recover his humor. But it didn't matter if they knew, so he tilted his head, in a way nodding. "Yup, little rat-babies. …But they're actually kinda getting old, so they aren't little babies anymore. But I saw them when they were little, and looked kind of like puppies with long pink tails. With fur, they looked like little, tiny puppies, and fit in the palm of your hand."

  "Aw… That sounds cute."

  Vincent shrugged, but he kept his smile, and then looked over at Rodriguez to try and engage the jock to join in the discussion. "Do you think rats are cool, Rodriguez?"

  "The way you described them, made them seem…cute, I guess." There was another smile and a shrug, similar to the one Vincent had given.

  Awkwardness no longer seemed to hold any prominence in the car, though some of it took shelter with Hans who was frowning at the road, lost in how random this conversation was to him. How could his daughter have guessed rats? Maybe dogs, though the crawling part and the cage made that unlikely. The same applied to cats. A snake would sl
ither and not have whiskers. A bird didn't have paws, or whiskers. But a hamster would fit. …Rats however…admittedly seemed more masculine than fluffy little hamsters.

  The presence of well-thought of pets made Richard feel that Vincent was currently staying in a decent environment. Healthy, affectionate pets, more than likely not abused if they were affectionate, meant that there was enough money to supply food and pay the rent, with more left over. How that money was obtained could not be inferred, but then again the rats that were described this way, and rats that knew tricks, suggested that whoever earned the money could not as bad as she might have feared. Whoever owned the rats, seemed to put effort into caring and training them, and this was perceived as a positive characteristic.

  When Vincentimir had said that he 'needed to get back', she had thought perhaps he was being manipulated or controlled, pressured or somehow watched by the group he was involved in. What had been revealed now led her believe that this was probably not the case. The rats made the whole situation more innocent, weakening her suspicions.

  However, the rats meant nothing to Hans.

  Rain dusted the glass and the first swipe of the windshield wipers removed the layer of water as the car slowed on an exit ramp, leaving the highway to soon stop in front of a red light at an intersection. The car turned left and crossed the overpass that took them to another stoplight that blinked green and let them through. A few tall trees swayed and creaked in the cold breeze, but the sound was cut off by the metal and glass exoskeleton of the car and the roof did not permit the tree-tops to be observed. Puddles were run over by countless rubber wheels, but they never complained though the people driving the cars tended to grunt displeasure, regretting the carwash they had paid for a few weeks earlier, or wishing that the rain would end and that the puddles would dry up while they crushed the said puddles with their unfeeling cars. The water never said a word.

  Soon enough the Rodriguez car drove through a few puddles and then parked with the front left wheel standing on top of one. The passengers exited the car and strode to the double doors of the building whose parking lot they had utilized, William being the first to reach it. She held the door open for her mother, and then Rodriguez caught the door to let her go in. He attempted to hold it open for Vincent, but the pale teen put his hand on the door and had Rodriguez enter first. With an awkward glance over his shoulder, Vincent put his back against the open door and offered to let Hans through. The green-eyed man glared at the teen, persuading Vincent to quickly enter the restaurant and allow Hans to hold open his own door.

  With the whole party standing together in the entrance, Richard spoke to a woman who turned away from her to collect four menus, adding an extra one for the teen who was currently staring at a carved platypus that blended in with the excessive amount of wood in the restaurant. Voices and clinking silverware occupied the air. A few bright television screens hung in different parts of the bar that could be spied at the back of the restaurant, but the most noticeable trait Vincent perceived was the glossy natural element that surrounded him. The wood floor, the wood tables, the wooden cutting boards that served bread in the place of a basket, the carved map of Australia on the wall, the carved fish, platypus, and kangaroo…lots and lots and lots of shiny wood.

  And steak. Delicious meaty smells that made the teen's empty stomach yowl and writhe, demanding to be stuffed with food; also filled the restaurant that had been named Outback in the hopes of seeming slightly more Australian and much more authentic than it actually was. Richard followed the woman who smiled and guided the group to their table, the police woman chewing the inside of her lip as she pondered her memories of the place. If she recalled correctly, Outback Steakhouse didn't take reservations…in any case, there was a table available for them. …The waitress had not commented when she'd told her about a reservation and a change in the number of their party… She would let this slide for now, though Hans had made it seem like time had been an issue when it likely had not been… That man…

  They were shown to a booth. Richard entered one side while Rodriguez chose the other, ending up in a position that put him directly across from his mother. William sat beside her mother and Vincent sat next to Rodriguez. Hans placed himself next to his daughter and leveled another glare at the pale face that watched him blankly and then turned to look at Rodriguez and the familiar wood that covered part of the wall. Menus were being handed out, so Vincent took his and then followed the trend the Rodriguezs set by opening and staring at the contents of the menu as the waitress scampered off. A chorus of laughter came from a round table a little ways off from the booth. Vincent watched them curiously for a moment.

  "It's been a while since we've last been here, huh?"

  A social tone and bubbly smile shone from William' face, set between the two adults who were less prone to show emotion, and seemed to have never been in possession of personalities that could show expressions half as lively. Hans was silent and did not look up from his menu while Richard glanced away from it for a moment, but her gaze retired from the girl when Rodriguez responded to the conversation starter.

  "It's been a couple months, I think." The teen noticed that Vincent was watching him so he grinned. "Have you ever been here before?"

  Vincent stared and then shook his head, his eyes wandering the restaurant and then dropping to the menu in his hands. "No. I've never really been in this area either. I don't go to far away places that often."

  All eyes were on Vincent, Richard and her husband watching the teen discreetly, ready to flick their eyes back to their menus should the red gaze move in their direction.

  "It's not really that far away, I think. It's about a twenty minute drive." Rodriguez sought a comparable opinion from his sister by looking at her. The girl nodded.

  "But we took the highway, so I guess the distance might be a little far. But it doesn't take long to get here, so it doesn't seem far." The siblings seemed to ponder the thought as they delved through their menus. Vincent, not knowing what he should do, scanned the sections of the menu, swallowing a grimace when he saw the prices.

  14.99 for a steak with a side dish? You also get a soup or salad… And a freaken expensive crab thing in the corner… But what the hell is that picture? A Bloomin' Onion? And then something about Barbie and a chicken… I wonder if you eat a doll…if that makes you kinda like something close to a cannibal. Eating something that looks human, but tastes like chicken… What do people taste like? …Kinda gross thought… Alrighty now, what will Fat-Ass be eating?

  Vincent stretched his neck and then peered at Rodriguez's menu to see if he could determine what the green eyes were looking at. "What do you usually get?"

  Guilt suddenly flooded Vincent's conscience, as if the dams keeping back the feeling had been blasted apart by his innocent question.

  How the fuck can I let them pay for my dinner? I'm practically mooching off of them. I'm a fucking parasite that-

  Vincent blinked when Rodriguez spoke, the other boy's voice interrupting the rapids of his rushing thoughts. "I'm probably going to get one of the larger steaks…rare. I get the mashed potatoes and a salad, they both come with the meal. But I don't know which dressing to choose for the salad… The Caesar salad is good, but it's not really good for you…and I ate a bunch of cookies today-"

  "Oh!" The gasp from William cut off Rodriguez and eyes watched the blonde as she cringed and then pouted for a moment, trying to count how many cookies she had eaten that day. She groaned and had to stop counting. "I'm going to have to get a lighter dressing then too. …Oh well. …Darn it Andy-Alex!" The girl scowled playfully at her brother and then her menu. "Why did you have to remind me? Now my brain's trying to add up calories, and it's making me feel fat." She mumbled the last bit, but her mother heard her and smirked.

  "You're nothing close to being overweight, dear." The smirk spoke through the list of steaks Richard was roaming through.

  William mumbled again to thank the woman, but her bubbly mood see
med to have deflated slightly. The girl read the list of seafood dishes quietly.

  "Would you be interested in having anything to drink this evening?"

  Startled by the sudden appearance, Vincent jerked and his eyes shot to the waitress who was smiling at the table. Bark brown bangs were swept to the side, the rest of her hair tied back in a high pony-tail that trailed to her shoulders. Pale blue eyes touched each of the Rodriguezs' faces and then twitched, recoiling from Vincent's stare. Her smile became plastic, stiffened by the red irises. Her teeth were white and pleasantly straight though, and her face generally seemed to be kind.

  Richard ordered a margarita she would sip at and then surrender to her husband later. William said that she would just have water. Rodriguez's finger descended the list of drinks and then tapped on a Sprite he then ordered. The light eyes went to Vincent and the plastic smile curled inward, as if melting before a flame, so that the woman was biting her lips as she waited.

  The teen hesitated and looked at his table. He shook his head. "I'll just have water.""Alight." The woman smiled and then focused on her little notepad with the tip of her pen moving down a space. Her smile returned to the occupants of the table. "Are you ready to order?"

  "Yes, I'll have…"

  Oh no. While Richard made her order and then checked with her husband to learn the specifics of what he wanted to eat, Vincent's eyes darted about over the surface of his menu, a knot wedging itself into his throat. I don't know what to get, and everything is too freaken expensive. I don't have enough money to pay for more than half a meal. Shit… 'Kay, okay, that chicken-Barbie thing is cheaper than the rest of the-

  Without him knowing, William and Rodriguez had made their orders and now the waitress was eyeing the delinquent teen stiffly. Richard captured the boy's attention with a question that bleached his mind.

  "Do you like steak, Vincentimir?"

  "Er…" It's not like I can just lie to her… "I guess so," but-

  Already well acquainted with Vincent's tendency to reject all forms of generosity, Richard antagonized the boy's anxiety by ordering a steak that was the same size as her son's, causing Vincent to choke on the knot in his throat.