Red

by Kim Jones

  I chew on the inside of my mouth for a while, grind my teeth for a while, pull my hair for a while and then I start to dance. And for the first time today, I feel slightly in control of my life. I’m at a crossroad with no signs. There are no houses, no sounds and no traffic. It’s just me, four roads, a few cows, a couple hundred trees and the sky. I play the music in my head, one song leading into another until I collapse and lay face down in the road. Doing this gives me an idea.

  I place my ear to the rough asphalt and listen for vibrations that might lead me to a highway. When I hear nothing, I crawl over to another road and do the same thing. And then another, and another. When I stand up, I realize how bad I’ve fucked up.

  “Son-of-a-BITCH!” I scream to the cows across from me, drawing the attention of one for about three seconds before she gets back to her grazing. While I was lost in the moment of dancing and listening for traffic, I got turned around. Now, I don’t know which road is what. They all look the same. Just fields, a few trees on a fence line and cows. I take a deep breath, lie back down on my stomach and try to listen once again.

  I hold my breath, placing my ear to the ground once more and close my eyes. Concentrate, Red. Concentrate. Then, I hear it. Something. Whatever it is has me so excited I’m pressing my face so hard into the road that I know the rocks are going to leave indentions in my cheek. The sound grows louder and I get lost in it. It’s comforting, almost like a lullaby. And then it’s gone.

  “What the hell are you doin’?” My eyes shoot open and I find myself face to face with a boot. I follow it up to a jean clad leg, over to a thigh, pausing for a moment on a wallet chain and then to the biggest damn forearms I’ve ever seen.

  “Regg?” I ask, knowing already that it’s him. He says a string of curse words under his breath before getting off the bike and lying next to me on the ground so that we are eye to eye.

  “Red, what the fuck are you doin’?”

  “I’m listening for traffic.”

  “What?”

  “I’m listening for traffic. I’m trying to get to the highway.” Suddenly, I feel sad. My body aches, my feelings are hurt and I just want to cry. “I can’t do this, Regg. I can’t. Please don’t make me do this. Just let me go,” I beg, wishing like hell a car would find its way down this road and just put me out of my misery.

  “Just a few more days, babe. Then it will get better. I promise. I’d rather see you mad than crying, though. So whenever you need to vent, just vent. But, don’t let yourself get depressed like this.” I feel him rubbing my back and even that hurts. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him.

  “I can’t help it. I get so mad and then when my adrenaline wears off, I just get upset. My body starts to feel the results of my fighting and it hurts so ba-.” My words break on a sob as I tuck my head into my elbow and let the ground catch my tears. “The only time I feel even half ass in control is when I’m dancing. I miss the stage so much. It’s my home. It’s my therapy.” My rambling is incoherent to my own ears, but Regg assures me he understands.

  We lay there a few minutes longer before I feel myself being lifted from the road. I wipe my face on my shirt once I’m on my feet, and finally take a look up into his eyes. The corner of his mouth is turned up in a sad smile, and he looks like he is contemplating something.

  “Let’s go back to the house. If you can make it through telling everyone goodbye, I’ll convince them to leave. When they do, I want to take you somewhere. But first, you have to see Luke and you have to eat.” Shit. I’d forgotten about Luke. He had yet to show his face. He was probably on his way back from getting my stuff, or using the excuse to come see me to get everyone together for a meeting. Either way, I’d avoided him but now I would have to look him in the eye. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to.

  I nod my head at Regg whose eyes have fallen to my legs. His frown has me looking down to find my kneecaps busted and bloody. While I’m surveying the damage, Regg takes my hands in his and turns them over to look at my palms. They too are scraped and bleeding.

  “Were you crawling around on all fours or something?” The incredulous look he gives me has me not wanting to tell him the truth. But, the evidence makes it quite clear that’s exactly what I was doing. I shrug my shoulders and he releases my hands on a sigh. I hear him mutter something about me not being concerned about my own well being or some shit while he climbs on his bike and extends his arm to help me on.

  Because there is no sissy bar, I’m forced to wrap my arms around his waist as he speeds us back in the direction towards his house. My fingers are constantly busy, as are my toes. On top of that, I’m chewing on the inside of my cheek and tightening all the muscles in my body. By the time we make it back to the house, I’m over my sad spell and back to worrying myself sick over what my body is missing.

  I don’t know how he did it, but Luke manages to have everyone ready to leave as soon as we arrive. I don’t even have to hug all of them. I sit on the porch swing and wave goodbye in the general direction of where they are all standing. The only words spoken are by Brooklyn who promises me that she will be back tomorrow, or sooner if I need her. I wish she would wait another week, but there is no point in asking. Brooklyn is going to come whether I want her to or not. That is the kind of sister she is-a loyal one. Despite how I might act or how much they get on my nerves, I need them. And good thing too, because just like Regg said, they aren’t going anywhere. Through good times and bad, the Devil’s Renegades MC stands behind their motto. Love, Loyalty and Respect.

  Chapter Ten

  Crow Eaters, Four Wheelers and Sunsets with Regg

  After everyone leaves, Regg goes inside and I’m left on the porch with Luke. Alone. I sit on the swing, pulling my knees up and resting my chin on them. This position makes my injury from earlier quite visible to Luke’s eyes.

  “What happened?” He lights a cigarette and hands it to me before lighting one for himself. I’m hoping he will sit next to me so I can avoid looking at him, but he pulls a chair up so he is directly in my line of sight.

  “I thought crawling around on the ground was a good idea.” There is no point in lying. I was never good at it where Luke was concerned anyway. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. I flash him my palms and I can see the question on his face. My hands itch to pick at the dried blood on my knees, so I clasp my fingers together in an attempt to keep them still.

  “I think that one still has some gravel in it,” Luke says, pointing to my left kneecap. My fingers fly to it and I begin picking at the sore. “Don’t pick at it,” he admonishes¸ slapping my hand away from my knee causing my cigarette to fall to the floor.

  “Well, why the hell did you even mention it then? That would be like saying ‘hey Red, you got a booger in your nose’ and then not expecting me to dig it out.” This makes him smile as he hands me my cigarette. We avoid each other’s gazes for a while. He concentrates on a rip in his jeans while I watch the slow, one sided burn of paper on my Marlboro.

  When the silence becomes too much, I decide to break the ice and say what should have been said weeks ago. I suck at eating crow, but it looks like it’s on the menu tonight.

  “I’m sorry.” My words are said in unison with Luke’s. ‘Sorry’ is not something that we usually say we are. We apologize for things that we’ve done wrong, but in my case, sorry describes exactly how I’ve treated him. I guess he feels the same way. I pick at the nail polish on my toes, using it as a distraction and a form of coping now that my fingernails are free of color.

  “I never should have said those things to you.” I don’t look at him when I say this, because I don’t want to see the hurt in his eyes at the reminder of what I said. “I’m messed up, Luke.”

  “Tell me what happened, Red.” His voice pulls me in and I stare at him through blurry, tear filled eyes. I can’t lie to him anymore. Hell, I don’t want to. But I’m not ready to talk just yet.

  “I need some time. I’m bad today,
but I’ll be worse tomorrow. We’ve been through this. You know how I get, but this time it’s worse. I’ve been on it heavy.” I wipe my eyes, and turn my head to look out at Regg’s massive yard. It’s well kept, without a single thing out of place. When he said he lived on a secluded farm, I expected a double wide just outside of town with a yard full of chickens and lawn mower parts. Not all this.

  “You take all the time you need.” I hear him stand and then close my eyes as he puts his hand on the back of my neck and kisses my head, leaving his lips there for a long time. “I love you, Red.” I stay like that until I hear his bike crank up. I open my eyes just in time to see the reaper on the back of his cut, before he disappears from view. And how I’m feeling right now makes me wish the real reaper would come for me.

  ***

  Regg has cooked. I’m not hungry, but when I tell him this his reply is simple.

  “Humor me.”

  Whatever. I take a seat at the table with him and nibble on one of the many biscuits that are stacked up before us. He has fried deer meat, biscuits and macaroni and cheese. The smell of the oil turns my stomach and I don’t even attempt to try it. I get up from the table, feeling better the moment I step out of the kitchen. With my biscuit in hand and the lingering odor of fried meat no longer in the air, I curl up on the couch and force myself to eat the whole thing. Regg doesn’t come looking for me and it’s nice to know I can have a little space when I need it.

  I move from the couch, to the floor, to the loveseat until I give up and start pacing the room. Back and forth. From one end to the other and occasionally around the couch to shake things up a bit. I chew my nails until I’ve managed to remove all the acrylic and my real nails are down to the quick. When I can’t chew on them anymore, I start working on the inside of my cheek. My teeth clamp down on tiny bits of flesh and when I feel the skin tear, I get that small sense of pleasure. If I don’t stop soon, there won’t be any skin left. So, I start picking at the sores on my palms.

  “We need to clean and bandage those,” Regg announces. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me pace back and forth.

  “How long you been standing there?” I ask, never slowing my stride.

  “Long enough to see that you are gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep it up.” He offers me a smile, and I stop for all of four seconds before my restless feet start again.

  “I’m tired. I just want to sleep but I can’t sit still.” I haven’t slept in days. A couple hours here and there have done nothing for me. It’s a wonder I can still function. “Do you have any NyQuil?” I ask, pausing long enough to get excited at the possibility of sleeping my way through the next several days. He shakes his head and his news has me pacing again.

  “Come on. Let’s wrap those knees and hands up. I want to show you something.” I follow him out of the den and up the stairs to the bathroom. “Sit,” he says, pointing to the toilet while he rummages through an old medicine cabinet above the sink. I fidget nervously, trying like hell to sit still while he wipes the tiny pieces of gravel from my knees before pouring peroxide on them. “Hurt?” The slight sting is actually comforting, but I don’t tell him that. I just shake my head. He moves to my hands before wrapping all four injuries in gauze and bandages. It’s a little overkill. “I know it’s extreme,” he says, reading my mind. “But, if I don’t wrap it up, you are just gonna pick at it and make it worse. Don’t.” He emphasizes his demand with a look that tells me he ain’t messing around.

  “Where are we going?” I’m ready to get the hell outta here. Maybe we will go to town so I can learn my way back to the city.

  “You’ll see. Luke brought your stuff. You wanna change?” I shake my head and he cocks an eyebrow but says nothing. He leads me back downstairs and out the back door. The yard is large, just as wide as the front, but surrounded by trees just a hundred yards out. We walk to a huge red barn that sits off to the left of the house. The scent of hay and manure invades my nostrils and my nose scrunches in protest. “Here,” Regg says, handing me a pair of black, rubber boots. “These should fit. They’re Sara’s.” I feel something spark inside of me. Anger maybe? Jealousy? I don’t know why I feel the need to find out who this mysterious woman is, but my ability to filter what comes out of my mouth is forgotten.

  “Who’s Sara?” My tone isn’t right. I sound bitchy. I meant it to sound more curious and less accusing. But I can’t help it. First Taylor, now Sara? How many women has he been with?

  “My cousin.” Oh.

  Thankfully, Regg is too distracted with putting on his own boots to notice my sudden bout of rage. I look down at the boots and frown. How old is his cousin? Ten?

  “I can’t fit these. They’re like a size five.” I hand the small boots back to Regg and he reaches on a shelf to grab another pair.

  “Try these.” I slip them on easily. They’re a little big, but I can manage. “Better?” he asks, fighting a smile as he checks me out. I know I look hideous in his black t-shirt that hits me mid thigh, his basketball shorts that have been tied and rolled up to just above my knees which are covered in bandages along with my hands. And now, we can add rubber boots to my funky getup. I give him the finger and my ‘you’re an asshole’ look. Flipping my hair over my head, I secure it into a knot that stands straight up in the air. Perfect.

  I nearly choke to death when he first sprays himself with some kind of mosquito repellant, and then me.

  “Damn, that’s enough.” I’m coughing, fighting to keep the shit outta my mouth and eyes and failing miserably.

  “You’ll thank me later.” Not a chance.

  “So, you really are a farmer.” I look around the barn, taking in the stacks of hay bales, feed, tractors and random piles of manure.

  “I am. Mostly chickens, but I do have some cows too.” I look around, waiting for a chicken to strut by. “The chickens are in houses. They’re not free range. Too many of them for that.” He opens a door on the side wall and pulls out a rifle. Slinging it over his shoulder, he holds his hand out to me. “You ready?” I cross my arms and stare at him, not wanting to touch him after those feelings of jealousy woke up inside of me. I didn’t need to give myself anymore reason to try and stake a claim on him. “Okay then.” He drops his hand and starts walking. And I play right into my role of puppet by following him.

  We walk to the tree line at the back of the yard and enter a small area of woods. A few minutes later, we emerge on the other side where eight long, white chicken houses take up a flat piece of land that is also bordered by tall pine trees.

  “There’s a road that leads to these over there,” he says, pointing to the left. “But, this is a shortcut.” Shortcut, my ass. I feel like we’ve walked for miles.

  “You’re not gonna make me work in the chicken houses are you?” I ask, stopping as the realization hits me. He looks at me over his shoulder, never slowing his pace, and shoots me a wink.

  “Not today, babe.”

  “Not ever, babe,” I mumble, not loud enough for him to hear.

  “I heard that.” I roll my eyes and stomp after him, fighting the gnats out of my face with my hands. They don’t even seem to bother him. “I just gotta check the computers. I won’t be but a sec,” he calls out, disappearing into one of the houses. The sun is just starting to set in the sky, and I can’t believe everything that has happened today. Jail, court, rehab, family, talking to Luke, checking fucking chicken houses. I haven’t accomplished this much in weeks, much less in twelve hours.

  I start to pace, kicking gravel rocks until that gets old to me, then I start fidgeting with the bandage on my hand.

  “Stop that,” Regg says, emerging from the house and jerking his head in the direction of another. “Come on, we’re gonna miss it if we don’t hurry.

  “Miss what?” I ask, confused as to not only what we’re missing but why in the hell I keep following him like a puppy on a leash.

  “You’ll see.” I round the corner and find Regg climbing up on
an ATV. He throws the gun in the front rack and leans up, waiting for me to climb on. I clamber up, and soon we are speeding between the houses and towards the tree line behind them. We approach a mud puddle filled with water, and to my surprise, he doesn’t slow down or look like he has any intentions of avoiding it.

  “Hole!” I yell over the roar of the engine. I lean into him and point, knowing good and damn well he can see my extended finger and what it’s pointing to. He slows down and I relax, but it’s short lived. Just before we hit the wide span of water, he guns it. The impact causes the four-wheeler to slow, just as a spray of muddy, orange water drenches us both. I can hear his laughter echoing off the walls of the houses and I find myself, for the first time in a long time, laughing too.

  There is a path through the thick woods just wide enough for us to maneuver through. Regg operates the four-wheeler with the same precision he drives his bike; moving perfectly through the tight space lined on both sides with trees and cut-over. It’s darker in the woods but I can see the sunlight filtering in through the trees and I know we are near another clearing. When we break from the trees, we come out on a gravel driveway that leads to a small boat house. And then I gasp at what I see. A massive lake looms before us and I’m awestruck at the view.

  Regg kills the engine and steps off. This time when he offers his hand, I take it. He leads us to the end of a pier that stretches out into the water and takes a seat, pulling me down with him. Our legs dangle over the side as we watch the last of the sun set over the trees.

  I’m breathless as I struggle to take in the magnificence that surrounds me. The sunset reflects off of the water creating a perfect mirror image. It’s overwhelming, mesmerizing and so serene that I can physically feel the peace as it engulfs me like a blanket. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” I whisper, not wanting the sound of my voice to take away from the tranquility of the moment. Fingers graze my cheek before tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. I feel him lean in closer, his lips only a breath away from my face.