“Well, you went with them to the movies tonight.”
“Yeah, and you went out with David tonight.”
“He’s my friend.”
“Does David know that? He wants you to be more than friends. He wants to fuck you and you know it.”
“I know no such thing!”
“Oh, come on. You think I’m stupid?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. Doesn’t matter what you or David think either, for that matter. He’s my friend – we are just friends – and if you want to go out with your friends then I’ll go out with mine.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that. These are two totally different things!”
“No, they aren’t.”
“Sure, they are. For one, my friends are guys, not girls. We saw a movie, then went our separate ways. You and David, on the other hand, are guy and girl. You’re riding next to him, same as we do, and I’m sure his arm is around you, and that’s bullshit. Not the same at all.”
“It doesn’t mean anything. If you wanted to go out with me, you should have taken me out. But you didn’t. So David did.”
“Okay, fine. Get in and we’ll ride around some, maybe stop for cokes, then I’ll take you home before curfew.”
A blast of a car horn caught their attention. Headlights flashed off-on twice. David conveying his wish that Sharon hurry up.
“I’ve gotta go,” Sharon said, “before David gets mad.”
“What about me? I’m mad. Now get in the truck.”
“I can’t.”
The horn blasted again, headlights switched off-on.
“I’ll kick David’s ass,” he said, reaching for the latch to open the door.
“No. Please don’t.”
“Then kiss me.”
“What?”
“David’s just a friend and I’m your boyfriend. I miss you. Now kiss me.”
A flustered Sharon glanced at the Ford, then back to her boyfriend. She looked torn, confused, perhaps in over her head. But ultimately she gave him a quick peck on the lips before jogging back to the Ford and climbing in on the passenger side. The door had barely shut when the compact pickup launched forward to a chirp of spinning rubber. The truck veered at the Power Wagon, as if to ram or sideswipe it but avoided collision at the last possible moment.
Hit me, the man recalled thinking. It will be like plowing into a brick wall.
Within that short span of time, Sharon had slid across the bench seat to sit beside David again. The man swore he heard Aerosmith blasting from the passing vehicle’s speakers.
That was a long time ago, the man, speeding along the old highway home in his daily commuter, reminded himself. Though I’m sure they played that album often enough.
He pushed the thought from his mind to focus on the road. It had been an unseasonably warm day, with a late afternoon rain shower which had cooled the air considerably. A mist now filled the air, with fog filling the ditches on both sides of the highway. Intermittent wipers cleared the windshield a few times each minute. And then, as the road dipped lower, as it passed the scarred old oak tree in front of the abandoned church where he’d first spotted Sharon the week before, something strange occurred which snagged his attention.
At first he thought the headlights had reflected off fog hugging the tree trunk. But that wasn’t right, as fog wasn’t apt to behave in such ways. No, he hadn’t seen fog. What he saw appeared to be a person. A feminine form, very pale and dressed in white. She approached the highway at a run and stopped dead in the middle of his lane, glaring at him.
“Fuck,” he shouted as he aggressively applied brakes.
The car, screeching to a stop and veering slightly toward the narrow shoulder, bore down on the figure. He steered left, to avoid the ditch, causing the car to slide to a stop. Heart pounding, he threw open the door and popped out to the humid smell of burning rubber. From over the roof of the car the figure could be seen dashing away, swallowed up by darkness.
“Sharon!” he called. “Come back!”
Chapter 9
She woke to the sound of barking dogs. With nothing to do, Julia had found herself sleeping more and more. Not deep sleep, light sleep. Sleep the slightest noise would disturb. She’d woken that morning, when the man brought her food before leaving for work. Now, while it seemed later than usual, she assumed he’d arrived home. His presence became known as he stormed through the house, down to the basement.
Two switches controlled the single lightbulb. One inside the room, one out. The light flared to life as the swinging door went crashing against the wall.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“It’s me, Sharon.”
“The hell it is!”
Julia screamed as he crossed the room and dragged her out of bed by the hair.
“Answer me, goddamn it. Who are you?”
“I don’t know. Who the hell do you want me to be?”
A slap to the face sent Julia sprawling across cold concrete and her aching body ignited with fresh pain.
“How did you get in here?” he asked. “And why did you let her go?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, you crazy bastard.”
“Crazy bastard?” A steel-toed boot hammered her belly and took Julia’s wind with it. “I’m not crazy.”
The hell you aren’t, Julia thought, clutching her belly, gasping for breath.
His voice sounded of desperation when he said: “Just fucking tell me.”
Tears filled his eyes but Julia felt no sympathy for the man. It took her a moment before she could speak. When she could, leaning against a wall, she replied, “I told you from the beginning, I’m not who you think I am.”
“Bullshit! I saw her, plain as day, in the car. She pulled over for me, and I brought her home again.”
“That was me. You ran my car off the road!”
“No… No…” He paced the room, tugging his hair in frustration. He smelled of odd smoke and body odor. She found him highly offensive and volatile. It seemed he might explode at any moment, and Julia didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, so she took a deep breath, exhaled, tried to keep her cool.
Then he stopped pacing, he looked her dead in the eye.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Julia Sommers. I was driving home from St. Louis when you … met me.”
“St. Louis… St. Louis…” He resumed pacing. Stopped. “Is that where Sharon’s been? St. Louis?”
“I don’t know any Sharon,” Julia said. “I don’t know your Sharon.”
“David. Do you know David?”
Who the hell doesn’t know a David? It’s a biblical name, very goddamn common. She’d dated a David before Marcus. Another womanizing asshole. She’d found him in bed with a “friend” from work. Turns out this bitch was his “work wife” and, during a brief stop at his house to pick up something he “forgot” while running errands for a fundraiser at work, they’d ended up raising a little fun for themselves.
“No. I don’t know David either. I don’t know anyone. I’m not from around here.”
“You’re from St. Louis?”
Oh my god, not only is this guy nuts, he’s an idiot.
“No, I’m not from St. Louis. I’m from a town 45 minutes from here.”
Of course she didn’t know where she was. She only knew how far she’d been from home when he drove her into the ditch.
The man paused to think. She watched him closely, trying to determine how he’d accept the information. He seemed torn, confused, completely unstable.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I think you’re a lying bitch.” At least he’d calmed. “I know I saw Sharon. I saw her and brought her here. Now you’re here and Sharon is gone. You’re in her place. Which can only mean one thing.”
Julia didn’t like where this was headed.
“You fucking let her go, you helped her to escape. My Sharon! Gone! Why would you do that to me?”
<
br /> “I didn’t—”
Julia had no time to finish expressing her thought. The man grabbed her by the hair and, after slapping and backhanding her face, bashed her head against the concrete wall.
“Goddamn it, I’ll kill you, bitch. Why why why would you let Sharon go? I never did anything to you!”
Pain ignited on her scalp. And each bash against the wall caused a crash of pain to the skull.
You’ll crack my fucking head open, she thought. This is how I’ll die, down in a crazy man’s basement. Nobody will ever find me.
“I didn’t let her go.”
“The fuck you didn’t.” Bang bang bang!
“Stop! Please!”
He stopped bashing her head. Instead, he pulled her to her feet by the hair.
“Don’t you lie to me, bitch.”
Tears streamed down Julia’s face as she wept.
“I’m not. Lying. I don’t know. Sharon. This is all a. Mistake.”
“I loved her in this dress,” he said, scanning Julia’s body. “It was one of my favorites. She was wearing it yesterday when we made love.”
“Good Lord,” Julia said. “That was me.”
“No! No.”
He grabbed the dress at the shoulders and slung Julia across the room. “Take it off,” he demanded.
Julia, raising her arms, allowed the garment to pull free, over her head. She slammed into the dresser to a rattle of chain, clothed only in bra and panties.
“You deceitful bitch,” he said, slapping her face. He slapped again and again and when Julia tried to protect herself he began to slap her breasts.
“Stop! Please! Stop and think!” Julia collapsed to the floor in a protective ball.
“The only thing I need to think about is what I’m going to do now.” He kicked her in the side, booted her in the ass. “What I’m going to do about Sharon.” Another kick. “And what I’m going to do about you.”
Chapter 10
He left her crying in a heap on the floor. Tired, hungry, and mad as hell, he stormed up the stairs after having thrown the deadbolt on the door to the room. He went to the bathroom and shed clothing. After a long, steamy shower, to rinse away aches and pains of the day, he dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and long-sleeved flannel shirt which he wore untucked and unbuttoned.
Goddamn that bitch, he thought.
She’d somehow come here and let loose Sharon, then, for some unknown reason, taken her place. Perhaps to deceive him? The thought seemed ludicrous. She obviously wasn’t Sharon. Sure, after all these years, Sharon might resemble the woman. After all, they both had blonde hair. But seriously, really?
Anger ebbed long enough for eyes to grow glassy.
He’d go out, search for Sharon, like he sometimes did when the heartbreak ached too much. But he wasn’t stupid. He knew he needed to force something into his stomach. He already felt lightheaded. Probably low blood sugar.
He made a couple of ham-and-cheese sandwiches, filled a travel mug with iced tea, and headed out to the truck.
Let the bitch starve, he thought. He didn’t have time to fool with her. Not now. Not ever.
He fired up the truck and switched on headlights. Yes, the truck was a classic, but it had been designed for utility and that’s the way he’d restored it. Iced tea and bread crumbs couldn’t hurt the metal interior, nor stain vinyl upholstery. While he’d restored the beast over the years, he wasn’t made of money. Hell, as a professional welder, the bumper and a few other parts he’d fabricated himself.
He set off, engine growling. His destination, of course, the spot where he’d nearly hit Sharon in the car.
He’d downed the sandwiches and a good portion of the tea by the time he reached the area. He exited the vehicle, engine idling, hazard lights flashing, to a stirring of fog.
“Sharon!” he called. “Are you out there? Can you hear me?”
He received no answer.
“Sharon! Please!”
He headed in the direction she’d ran about an hour earlier. He needed to hop a ditch and duck through a fence in the process. When he started across a field, recent rain made itself known in the form of mud. Thick, sloppy mud.
“Damn it,” he muttered. To continue across the field, with fog nipping at his knees, he’d risk losing a boot. Not to mention the mess he’d haul back to the truck.
“Sharon, please, come back! It’s me, your greatest love!”
He stood silently, sweeping a beam of light from an oversized MagLITE flashlight but saw nothing except crops in every direction.
He’d lost her, of that he was sure. But he couldn’t give up. Not now.
He tromped back to the truck, stomped clean his boots as best he could and even kicked a tire for good measure before slipping behind the steering wheel. Then he headed to their make-out spot, the area he knew David and Sharon had also used. He knew because she’d mentioned it once. She’d been upset with him, for some reason, and said, David and I go here sometimes. Just to talk.
To talk and to make out, he assumed. But did she ever suck your dick here, David? Did she? She did mine. It was funny, too, when she opened the door to spit out a mouthful of cum and the interior light came on.
They’d joked about it. How he’d recently rewired the light and replaced its bulb, only to be blinded by Sharon’s cum spit.
Of course he’d never complained. They simply found it amusing.
Also amusing because he was sure, at least at that point, David had received nothing but blue balls.
Did you enjoy riding thigh-to-thigh with her, knowing her lips wrapped around my cock and not yours? Did you ever fuck her here? I did.
But he didn’t see it that way. Horny teenagers fucked. They bumped genitals until they got off, then, the following weekend, they did the same with someone else. But with Sharon, back then, they’d made love. He’d never thought of penetrating another woman, not really. Sure, horny teenage boys fantasized about sex. They’d bang the chick in Weird Science in the bathroom, wondered how tight and wet Julie from third period might be, even thought about how they, in their final years of high school, shouldn’t be tied down to any one girl. But really and truly… I only wanted you.
He sighed as he stopped the truck in their spot. He sat there a moment, sipping cold sweet tea, thinking of Sharon sprawled across the bench seat. The truck had been a single cab back then, before he’d put his newly-acquired welding talent to the test with another donor cab he’d scavenged from a salvage yard. The truck bed had been rusted and battered beyond repair and instead of finding a replacement for the long bed, he instead discovered a short bed and donor cab. He’d also taken the truck’s bench seat to use for a second row of seating.
“If you were here,” he spoke aloud as if Sharon could hear, “we could make love in back this time.”
Of course, he received no answer. He switched off the ignition, primarily to better enable himself to hear distant replies, then dropped out of the cab.
“Sharon! Dear, can you hear me?”
He shouted in all directions but focused his effort over the ridge of the bluff, though he heard nothing except for night sounds.
“I miss you,” he repeated at regular volume. “I miss you so much. Why did you leave? Why run away? You know I only want what’s best for us.”
To have Sharon so close again, after so much time had passed, caused his heart to ache. It always ached for Sharon. It had ached terribly when she broke it decades ago. And it ached each time he found her again and brought her home. But something always happened to ruin things. She always seemed to have friends to help her escape.
Of course there had been other women over the years. But none like Sharon. Sluts, dirty whores, damaged women barely capable of functioning on an emotional level. And the ones who could function all seemed to have ulterior motives which ran counter-intuitive to a successful, harmonious relationship. They wanted money, lust, to deceive another man, a baby daddy, as some people called it. Ultimately, he assumed, they wan
ted excitement and drama.
But not love. They didn’t want love. Sure, they might convince themselves that’s what they wanted. But they didn’t. Nor did they seek true happiness. They wanted to kill time with showered affection, attention on demand. And they wanted everything. Every last, single thing, their own goddamn way. And once they didn’t get it, they were gone.
Like Sharon.
You seemed so different, he thought. But were you? Truly?
On nights like tonight, he didn’t know. Didn’t really have a clue.
The misty air had grown cold despite wearing flannel, and so the man climbed into the truck. Iced tea only attributed to the chill so he simply sat there, thinking of a time they’d come here together. Before David became a factor. When everything was good.
They sat, looking at the stars in the sky, staring at the stars in each other’s eyes.
“You’ll go to school in the fall,” Sharon said, concerned. “Then you’ll meet someone else and forget about me.”
“I won’t meet anyone else.” Kiss. “I could never forget you.”
“Still, you’ll be there.” She looked away. “I’ll be … wherever Dad takes me.”
“Don’t worry. St. Louis isn’t so far. I’ll be home every weekend. You’ll be around.”
“Wish you could stay here, not go away. But you’re smart. And there’s nothing here for you.”
“You’re here.”
That brought her eyes back to him. Lips too. They kissed, passionately. Then their love moved beyond words, to physical expression. After they’d finished Sharon said:
“Some of my friends tell me they never climax. That’s hard for me to imagine, because, when we’re together, I’m always moved. Always satisfied.”
“Oh, come on,” he teased. “Our first time only lasted maybe 30 seconds. Then I left, so confused.”
“Even then,” Sharon said. “I knew it meant something to you. That I meant something to you.”
“You did. You do. You always will.”
“You’re wonderful. But it’s getting late. You’ll miss curfew.”
Insanity Road Page 5