By then he’d enrolled in a trade school and had just left to begin attending. David’s presence had already strained their relationship. With their lives going in separate directions, along with David’s wedge driving them further apart, there didn’t seem much he could do to help. A week or two longer and Sharon’s dad would pick her up and drive her back home.
Except that’s not what had happened.
He found out later that David had driven to Michigan to get her. To save Sharon from the horrible mess that her mother’s life had become, and thus, he knew, drive the final coffin nail into their relationship and solidify a romantic relationship with David.
“Are you okay?” Julia asked.
“What?” he replied.
“Your eyes went vacant. You seemed to—”
“Hush. I have a thought I don’t want to escape me…”
He’d returned home from school to find Sharon there. He couldn’t recall if she was living at home but something, some nagging ghost of a recollection, led him to believe she’d moved in with relatives. Not that it mattered. They were both home and they missed each other dearly.
“I want to see you,” he told Sharon on the telephone. “Dinner and a movie?”
“Okay,” she agreed.
She’d never worn fingernail polish, that he could recall. She was young, didn’t have much money, but that night, for some reason, she did, and he liked it. A beautiful deep blue. He even commented on the fact.
But there was an unspoken division between them in the theater. She kept her distance and he didn’t recall them sharing a soft drink or popcorn like they usually did. And when he went to hold her hand, she busied it instead.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing. Watching the movie.”
Except she wasn’t doing nothing. He watched, unable to concentrate on the action on the screen, as Sharon systematically scratched paint from the nail of each finger with a nail from the opposite hand. It seemed a spiteful act, one designed to undermine his feelings for her while exaggerate what had grown between her and David.
Why is she doing this? I complimented her, his mind screamed. A rare compliment, something I should do more often, but all it does is display vulnerabilities. Now look at her. Scratch, scratch, scratch! I’m not perfect, Sharon, I know that. I’ll try harder, be better. This is an example of that effort, and look what you’re doing! David has undermined everything we had. Don’t you know that I love you?
But they didn’t hold hands, didn’t share a drink. She removed the nail polish as best she could in the semi-darkness of the theater. And after the movie had finished they returned to his truck. Sharon may have ridden beside him, in the center of the bench seat, but that didn’t mean much. She’d done so with David practically from the beginning and now she did so again, though a million miles away. Worst of all, he could feel David’s lurking eyes upon them every step of the way. He undoubtedly roamed the night in his own truck, knew they’d attend a movie. In fact, Sharon may have told him earlier of their plans. That night, of all nights, the man, then not much more than a boy, knew things had made a change for the worse. He’d receive further proof before the night was over.
They cruised the strip for a while. That night the idea of parking in a remote area, one of their special spots, never occurred to either of them. If it had they’d simply discard it immediately.
Except a strange thing happened between them…
“Take me home,” Sharon said. “David will expect to pick me up soon.”
Before long they arrived at the guest house Sharon’s father rented, and her dad wasn’t at home. As always he walked her to the door.
Damn it, Sharon, don’t you know how much I care for you? I don’t know what to do, but I know I don’t want to lose you! I know you fucked David. I know it deep down. But I’ll forgive you, if you’ll simply never see him again.
Sharon must have harbored similar feelings because, standing there on the stoop, their lips met as he folded her into his arms.
“Inside,” she said, as she ushered him in.
They kissed so madly, their hearts beating a cadence. Hands roamed in a frenzy as urgent lips sucked her neck and a tongue found its way erotically in his ear. Then hands, both his and hers, slipped beneath fabric to fevered skin.
“I want you, Sharon. I want you so bad,” he said, as if the physical manifestation of lust might burst open the floodgates of love within her again.
Sharon stopped short. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” He didn’t want to stop. He heard only their heartbeat and husky breath.
“It’s him.”
And then he heard it too. A vehicle racing by outside in the alley.
“David’s truck,” she clarified, though the sound could belong only to David.
Should I step outside to confront him? he wondered. But he didn’t want to stop. Not here, not now. Not with Sharon so close to expressing her true emotions once again.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We have a little time.”
Her lips pressed seductively to his and all worries raced, along with their heartbeats, from the mind.
“I want you, Sharon,” he said as he started to tug off her shirt.
“No,” she said, although she allowed the blouse to be lifted over her bra but not entirely removed.
He quickly unfastened the garment with practiced dexterity and freed her wonderful breasts. Lips landed on a turgid nipple as fingers went nimbly for the button of her faded jeans.
“No,” she repeated before pressing him firmly back along with a kiss.
He allowed her this consolation and quickly found himself rewarded as she straddled him and placed a nipple to his lips.
He was so hard and ready for her, his body ached. Her body obviously ached for him, too, and she wouldn’t completely deny its need. She straddled him and started to grind her sex against his erection. Their passion hadn’t ignited in such a way since the first time they made love with physical penetration, with Sharon being his first and only lover.
His lips found her neck and he sucked to drive her wild. He sucked to leave a mark that David wouldn’t miss.
Then, still sucking and eventually biting, he rolled her onto her back as they lay sprawled across the carpeted floor. Then he began to dry-hump her as if she weren’t clothed and he were instead giving her the best sex of her life, which in fact, at least to him, rivaled any intimate moment they’d ever shared. He thought he heard the sound of flying gravel and racing engine outside, another pass by an angry and frustrated David, but he didn’t care.
“Oh, god,” Sharon said as those fingernails, now devoid of paint, dug into his back. They didn’t relent. Much like spurs to a racehorse, they urged increased passion, which she received in spades: Firm, dry thrusts; strong suction to the neck; teeth to a shoulder; nibbles to an earlobe; and a million other little things, everything they wanted to express their love to one another, until he knew those raking nails were leaving shredded flesh in their wake.
“Oh… Ohh… Ohhh…!” Sharon expressed, the beginning of an explosive climax happening.
The most amazing expression crossed her face. He’d seen it before, many times, but never like this. He kissed her firmly, slipped his tongue into her mouth, and continued to grind. The swollen lips of her sex could be felt hugging his erection despite the clothing between them. He gave it to her good, tears of love and loss filling their eyes. When her climax began to ebb, nails dug deeper and he knew she wanted them to share one last orgasm together, which they did.
Then they rose from the floor.
“Sharon. I love you.”
“I’ll always love you, too,” she said, wiping away a tear, bra fastened, blouse down, clearly on the verge of an emotional breakdown. “You should leave. You should leave now.”
Now. Yes, I should. There’s nothing more I can do here.
Awkward and rushed, he left. His ruined back protested when he return
ed to the truck. As he turned the corner at the end of the alley he noticed a set of headlights turn into the alley at the opposite end. David coming to pick up Sharon…
He wiped away a tear. The chained woman kneeling before him on concrete caught his attention. She looked frightened and confused.
“I…” he began. “My mind sometimes wonders. You cannot trust people. Even when they are being truthful they are liars. They lie not only with intentions but lie with non-intentions.”
“What…?”
“Sharon never intended to cheat on me with David. And technically she didn’t. Just as she didn’t cheat on him with me.”
“I … don’t follow.”
“Perhaps you’ll follow this: Chad didn’t plan to fuck that bimbo. And had you never left the party I doubt he would have. But you did leave, and whether or not anything happened that night, now that you’ve gone missing, pulling your stupid prank here with me by letting Sharon loose, you’ve guaranteed your Chad is up to no good. Lying by omission. Lying after the fact. Lying with intentions that they themselves cannot see. Heartbreakers. You think about that and how you plan to rectify the mistakes you’ve made here with me. Because I will get answers from you. And I will get my Sharon back.”
With that, he left Julia alone with her thoughts in the cold, hard room, taking the plate and chair along with him.
Chapter 14
The grandest yet most elusive thing a person can have is true happiness. This happiness cannot be acquired by doing that which someone else wishes of you. It can only be found on one’s own terms. And thus many people reflect on their rebellious teenage years as the one true period of happiness. Because, the man thought, so many people, as adults, spend their time doing what is expected of them: attending college, landing a job, getting married, having kids, attending church.
Then of course there are so many commitments forced upon you: kids’ soccer practice, church bake sales, holidays with in-laws, work commitments, birthday parties and a million other things done out of tradition but without any real purpose. All of these things, if allowed, might usurp one’s time and eat away at the soul.
The trajectory of one’s life began when good-intentioned parents manipulated their children to do what they, as adults, deemed best for their offspring.
What might have happened if I’d gotten my own apartment instead of attending school, like mom and dad wanted?
He sometimes asked himself this question. It might have solved a lot of problems. He’d no longer have had to meet a curfew, which meant less time for Sharon to be with David. It would also have provided Sharon a place to live, because he held no doubts that, if he’d had his own place, Sharon would have immediately moved in with him. Hell, she was practically homeless at the time, bouncing from one relative’s couch to the next and finally landing in David’s bed, both figuratively and literally.
But most important of all, he believed, having followed that path would have removed much of the stress and strain on their relationship. Cohabitating without the pressures of school for him and home life for her, they could have focused on themselves as a couple instead of trying to stay together despite being torn apart by everyone else.
Perhaps that’s why so many long distance relationships fail after high school, he thought.
Of course, that was the reason. Long distance. But what if now, like a generation ago, people didn’t have their lives planned for them through age 30? What if they were free to love and grow and ultimately choose their own life’s path without having the expectations of others forced upon them? Perhaps that’s what had happened with society, he mused:
One generation’s parents had pushed marriage while Baby Boomers had replaced that pressure with the pressure of higher education, and thus enslaved their children to corporate America with the chains of student loan debt. What might the next generation force upon their children? Religion?
He certainly hoped not. Having no offspring, the thought concerned him only from a hypothetical or theoretical standpoint. He might have raised children with Sharon, if given a chance. But not now. Not with any of the women he’d met since. They all seemed to have their own agenda, and if you placated them (and helped raise kids they’d produced with other men), they might allow you to tag along for a while, at least until you disagreed with them. Then they’d find another man to replace you.
None of that matters now, he mused. I’ve spotted Sharon again. And that bitch downstairs knows where to find her. Eventually she’ll break down and tell me. If not… Well, she’ll function as a serviceable surrogate in the meantime.
The more he thought about how Julia had released Sharon and stayed behind infuriated him. A deep breath worked to calm him. He didn’t like having to do what he’d done. He didn’t enjoy it at all. But he was starting to think perhaps he should enjoy it.
I don’t want to be like this, he thought. I really don’t.
And so, in the best interest of everyone, he slipped on boots and a jacket and went outside to feed and water the dogs. Then he climbed into the Power Wagon and fired it up.
He didn’t drive it often. Too many memories haunted its iron bones. Memories of Sharon. It seemed best to leave the beast stored, but occasionally, when he was feeling sentimental, he’d take it out for a drive after dark, in the dead of night.
He drove to the highway. From there he cruised into town. Most people were already in bed for the night, children reenergizing for school tomorrow, adults expecting another long day. But not him; he was too wired. He wanted to reminisce about the past. With virtually everything closed for the night, he stopped at an all-night filling station/convenience store to gas up the truck. Then he went inside to buy a cold bottle of Pepsi. He preferred Coke now, on rare occasions when he craved the sugary, syrupy taste of a soft drink, but for some reason Pepsi had been the drink he’d often shared with Sharon at the two-screen movie theater in town. Sometimes Sharon wanted lemon-lime but he didn’t want that tonight. He didn’t smoke but he opted for a pack of Kool brand cigarettes and a free matchbook.
Then he cruised the strip. The theater still stood, its dual screens offering two showings each in the evening, matinees on the weekend. Once winter weather set in, the weekday showings would change from double to single viewing which didn’t affect him in the least. Occasionally, like Halloween weekend, a late-night showing of a slasher flick might take place. He recalled attending one with Sharon sometime before David became a thorn in his side. Being a small town, he’d known David before meeting Sharon, and knew David to be a weasel-y thing. Probably off trying to steal some other guy’s girl back then.
Most businesses had changed hands since then, except for a handful of mainstay businesses within the community. The roller skating rink had become a hardware store had become a secondhand clothing store and now stood vacant. Fitness centers never lasted, nor did most specialty shops. Franchise fast-food restaurants stayed in business, for the most part, but not much could compete with Walmart. Somehow the music store had survived, perhaps by selling band instruments to students, he figured. A pawn shop had popped up recently, as had a cash loan place that helped down-on-their-luck people sell a bit of their soul at a high interest rate.
There had been talk of expanding the highway out of town to four lanes but he didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Perhaps a decade from now, if Walmart built a distribution center or a package delivery carrier added a local hub. But for the most part, despite all the changes, things stayed pretty much the same, although local car dealerships had started selling Japanese imports but claimed they’d never sell Korean models.
Just you wait, he thought. Your kids will sell them once they take your place, same as you did with Toyotas. It’s inevitable.
The thought of all that non-changing change sickened him. He needed to get away from it all, and he did. He followed the two-lane highway out of town, past a derelict church that would collapse before ever being torn down, and made the turn which led him to Sharo
n and his favorite make-out spot. There he cut the engine and cranked down the windows and sat drinking Pepsi and thinking about all the good times they’d had in the pickup, which had been a real beater back in the day.
I love you, Sharon, he thought, and he truly meant it. Despite what she’d done, despite all they’d been through. Hell, despite all he’d been through, specifically with other women since, he didn’t blame her. You had a lot of pressures. Your fucked-up parents being more interested in themselves than actually parenting, your home life, of lack thereof. David fucking it all up…
I should have kicked his ass, he reasoned. I should have laid a hurtin’ on him the likes he’d never come sniffing around you again. Please, Sharon, forgive me.
But it hadn’t quite happened like that. And for this reason his heart ached.
He thought about sharing Pepsi with Sharon at the theater. She’d often want licorice and of course he’d buy a package for her. They’d share popcorn, sometimes reaching into the tub simultaneously in the dark. An impromptu buttery kiss might ensue. Then, a time or two, with a shared cup of fountain Pepsi between his legs, Sharon leaned over to sip from the straw. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time – perhaps her hands had been occupied – but he’d laugh and tease her about it later: The people behind us probably thought you were blowing me. They’d laugh and kiss and made fond lifetime memories that came flooding back now, with a sip of soft drink, so powerful he nearly couldn’t believe it.
“That was so long ago,” he thought aloud. “Look at yourself. What a pussy, sitting here, wasting your time when Sharon is out there, somewhere to be found.”
He knew he must act, and act he did. He got out of the truck and called, “Sharon, are you out there?” He used standard volume, not truly expecting to find her out here tonight, but it never hurt to try.
Insanity Road Page 8