Common Sense Doesn't Become Me

by CJ Hawk

  Mathew

  Well, if that did not beat all. The bitch’s degree in psychology paid off after all. I had shown her how to use that photo-editing program in the first place to make jokester pictures of each other. God how could I have been so stupid.

  I watched a tear fall from my face to the type written letter and wanted to rip it to shreds. However, I intended to keep it and fight. I intended to show it to the tabloids. I… had nothing to show but the letter, and I was sure if Sabrina was able to pull off the divorce as me, I could consider myself screwed. She probably set up the account as me and bought this house as me.

  I stepped back down off the porch and picked up the key on the smiley face chain. “Nice touch.” I said aloud to no one. As that was how I felt at that very moment, a no one.

  I opened the creaky screen door and slipped the key into the front door lock of a wooden door that had seen better days. It turned with ease, and I opened the door and felt like I stepped back in time to more years than I could count. It was a small-roomed cottage that looked like it was out of the early 1900s. The only indication that it was lived in the last two hundred years was the plaid couch and the duck and geese decorations on the wall, along with the peeling wallpaper.

  I stepped back outside and let the screen door slam shut. I saw a porch swing at the end of the porch, hidden from the front of the road by tall unruly bushes that had several leaves to hide behind. I sat on the swing and dropped my purse at my feet. I began to cry loud wailing sobs uncontrollably.

  As some time had passed, whatever drug Sabrina had given me had worn off, but the pounding headache still presided in my head. I had a feeling it was going to be there for some time until something worked its way out.

  Chapter Two

  The sound of tires crunching on the dirt road had me still myself on the swing. Could this all have been a very nasty joke? Were they back? I peeked through the weedy bush while hiding on the porch and saw a black Range Rover, on large tires, turn into the driveway at the house across the road. You could barely see the house as it was set back among trees and professionally hidden by nice landscape. A far contrast to this house or shack as it appeared sitting right on the road.

  Thankful for the unruly bushes I was hiding behind, I watched the Range Rover disappear down its driveway to the back of the house. For minutes, I heard nothing. Not even the sound like a car door slamming. I sat myself back down on the swing. I began to move myself in a rocking motion and wondered if my neighbors would be friend or foe. I wondered if the sight of my expensive luggage on the porch was as much a shock to them as it was to me.

  I finally heard a faint car door slam among the whispering leaves, then nothing. No person or persons came my way. I was relieved, as I had no way to explain why I was here.

  I tried to soak in my surroundings. The colors of fall were just beginning to show on the outer edges of all the aspen leaves surrounding the area. It seemed as if the house was up towards the top of the dirt road.

  Several minutes passed and nobody ever showed. I couldn’t blame them. This house looked like it should have been condemned years ago and torn down for something prettier to be built.

  The sun had moved further into the horizon, and it seemed like it was at least three o’clock. The sounds of my grumbling tummy echoed throughout the porch. I doubted that any food possibly existed in the house. I was afraid to go in and look. I reached down to the old faded gray porch and picked up my purse. Inside laid my wallet with the thousand in cash I took out just for the trip and shopping. Now it was going to have to last me until I could figure out what to do next.

  A small pink envelope was inside my purse. I reached in and opened it. It was a generic card with a scene of flowers and a puppy. The kind of card you would buy in a box of a dozen of cheap cards. A small note in a man’s handwriting appeared inside the card. “I’m very sorry. Haus” I was stunned. Perhaps Haus knew all along. I doubted he kept these kinds of things handy in the car. If he did, he was a sensitive man. From the stories Sabrina told me and my experience, he was anything but.

  A MasterCard gift card was nestled between the card and envelope. That confirmed my suspicions that he knew all along. It didn’t say how much was on it. I wasn't going to expect much seeing as Haus was a paid employee of my husbands, and he didn’t exactly pay the top pay rate. Then, on the other hand, how much money did he make in this little stunt to keep his mouth shut?

  The small acknowledgement did warm my cold heart. However, it did not stop my tummy from grumbling. As if in robotic mode, I began to lift my luggage into the house and set about exploring my new humble abode. A sudden movement of eight long legs stopped me quick in my path. I squashed it within a flick of a moment. The one thing I hated most was spiders. The second thing was dust and cobwebs. The humble abode held more of those then I could digest. I ran looking for the bathroom to puke. Only to find a nonfunctioning toilet full of old pee.

  Damn that Sabrina. She had bought a house that squatters had lived in. That or she had peed in it herself. Just at that thought, my stomach contracted. The puke ended up in the sink. I quickly reached for the old-fashioned nozzle to turn on, and I was thankful that the water worked.

  Upon further inspection of the small house, I discovered broken glass on the backdoor. It must have been how the squatters or wild teens had gotten in and out of the house. It was dirty. It was small, only one bedroom and one bathroom if you could call it that. It had a small kitchen and laundry room off the back of the house. The largest of living space was up front, and it was smaller than my dressing room back home. It was a joke. It had to be. They would come back tomorrow. No one could be this cruel.

  I quickly texted both Mathew and Sabrina. “Joke? Right?” I closed the lid to the toilet, and sat down and waited. I stared at my phone with only two bars hoping the signal stayed strong, and they would text me back that Haus was on his way to get me. I waited minutes that felt like hours, and my phone vibrated a text back and then again. With much trepidation, I read the messages from both. “No joke good luck” Sabrina. “Good riddance” Mathew. Seriously?

  “GAH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I took a deep breath and realized my worst fears had come true. Deep down, there had been signs I had chosen to ignore. Little bits and pieces were coming together like a difficult bazillion piece puzzle.

  I pushed myself off the toilet with my hands to my knees and went in search of a breath mint in my purse. I chewed feverishly then went in search of my toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash. I hadn’t thrown up since I had the flu last winter. Memories of Sabrina by my side, day in and out, came to mind then I mentally took a red sharpie marker to her face and scribbled her out.

  All the happy memories I had of her, were now jaded by the fact she had ulterior motives. I could fight this and try to convince Mathew. She was always quicker and smarter than me. Yet, a small part of me was glad. It wasn't the dreamiest or the most romantic of marriages. However, it was better than my life before. It wasn’t the money and lavish things so much as I was going to miss the security that I wasn’t on my own anymore.

  I had to buck up and think of this as an adventurous camping trip. I had to find the silver lining in the clouds, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I had to realize that my options were few and that my first priority is food because the sound of my stomach grumbling had just gotten louder.

  The search of the cabinets came up empty, only dead bugs and cobwebs. The laundry had a closet full of stuff, old broom, dirty mop, a few cleaning supplies and rags. A note hung on the mop. “Have fun!” It was in Sabrina’s handwriting. I had to wonder what I did that was so mean to her that made her be this cruel.

  The old washer had seen better days and there was no dryer. A clothesline in the backyard among the tall weeds caught my eye out the laundry room window. Sabrina had to of picked this house with the cruelest of intentions. She knew my hatred for laundry and cleaning. The small closet, in the bedroom with no bed, had ol
d linens in it and several dead moths. This most likely meant the linens were full of holes.

  The front room had an old looking, black and dusty, fire-burning stove with no wood around. Probably what heated the house? The couch smelt funny, and all the windows had a fine layer of dust with the lightest of sheer curtains covering the windows. I wouldn’t be able to last here a week let alone a cold mountain winter.

  The fast thought of driving into town entered my mind to get my bearings until I realized I didn’t have a car. I didn’t see a garage, and I doubted that they left me one in fear I would jump in and drive back to Denver, exposing them for the weasels they had become.

  I wrestled with the thought of introducing myself to my new neighbors but at that very moment, I was embarrassed and sick with grief and despair. The lurching of my stomach indicated I wanted to throw up but there was nothing in my stomach. The pounding inside my head seemed to have gotten worse, and I was sure I felt the slight sway of my body like it wanted to collapse onto the floor.

  I slowly sank to the floor with my back to the wall facing the front door. I sat there for minutes crying empty tears and wondering what my next step should be. I hadn’t talked with my parents since I ran away to Vegas to strip. I was just shy of my eighteenth birthday, a virgin. Yet, anything was better than a mom on drugs and a dad who was drunk all the time.

  Back then, my body screamed sex with any man who looked at me due to my full figure, long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Or so, I was told. I hadn’t seen a lot of options back then, so I used what I thought was my advantage.

  In my mind, I didn’t see me running back to mommy or daddy. The last phone call I had made to them left me with the discovery of a disconnected phone. I felt that was a sign that I shouldn’t go back.

  Looking back it was easy to see how Sabrina and I hooked up. She acted like an older sister and mother figure.

  Then Mathew came along and offered to take care of me. Giving me all the love and affection I craved along with lavish gifts and an offer of a lifestyle I never imagined I could have. Once we were married, things were always good, as long as I kept his high sexual appetite sedated and myself in tiptop shape physically. My credit cards had no limit; my best friend was always welcomed in his home, and his friends became mine. Or so, I assumed. I was sure they wouldn’t give me the time of day now.

  The sun was starting to get lower, and I knew if I was going to get into town and back with a few essentials, I needed to start out now. I eyed my luggage with my yoga and snorkeling gear. I had really looked forward to our snorkeling excursion. I crawled on my knees and quickly entered the combination to the luggage lock. I popped it open and tossed the lock on the floor. I unzipped the luggage and found my yoga top and pants. I undressed in the front room. I wasn’t worried if someone could see in if you couldn’t see out from all the dust and grime on the windows.

  I found my running shoes and a pair of ankle socks, and set myself out for what would be a short journey to town. I didn’t bother locking the door. At that point, I was hoping to find a motel/hotel in town, and I would stay there until morning. With my wallet and phone in my small black sports backpack, I set out of my new humble abode for any site of human life.

  Chapter Three

  I began walking at a fast clip downhill. The road was steep going down, so walking back up would be a challenge with a lot of groceries. I began making a mental list in my head as to what I would need. A good bottle of wine was going to be worth its weight to carry. I had some sorrows to take care of. Forget health food. I was on a warpath that didn’t involve men or slender waists. I could now eat what I wanted when I wanted, and not get judged for a pound gained. I smiled at that thought and felt a warm sensation fill my body with hope. I rounded a bend in the road, and it opened wide to a valley below. It was breathtaking.

  The rolling hills that intertwined into a valley river below filled with aspen trees of green and yellow shades, coloring the landscape. The tall intermingling pine trees were lush with green fir tips, and the river sparkled with clear dark-blue water with the late day sun starting to cast golden stars of light off the bending river.

  I took a deep yoga breath in, and stretched my arms over my head and slowly let it out as I let my arms sink to my sides. I felt alive in a new and unusual way. I didn’t feel so helpless and alone anymore. I didn’t think Sabrina would understand my love for the fresh mountain air. It ran parallel in first place to my desire to sit on a beach and let the ocean lap at my toes. This place might not be so bad after all.

  I did notice, that I did not see a town in sight. I could only hope it was down the road and hidden by all the trees. Because if not… I was screwed. Hell I was screwed any ways. Maybe I would pull a Forrest Gump and just run my broken heart to all eternity.

  I looked down at my newly acquired tennis shoes I had bought just for the trip to match my turquoise blue yoga tank top and dark navy blue yoga pants with the matching bright turquoise design. I had pulled my long blonde hair into a puffy ponytail before I left the cottage. I was a walking billboard for fit and athletic cute. I didn’t doubt that. I hadn’t thought to wash my face before I left which I was sure was a puffy splotchy red mess of mascara ruins.

  I spit into my fingertips, wiped my spit under my eyes, and used the underside end of my tank top to wipe my eyes clean. Thankful this brand of waterproof mascara held to its fifty-dollar price tag. It was actually waterproof. I slapped my face with my hands and pinched my cheeks to get the blood flowing. I figured by the time I got to civilization that I would look normal, as long as I held back any more tears.

  I felt like I had walked several miles when I knew it was most likely only one. I heard the crunching of tires approaching behind me, and I stepped to the side of the road to let them pass. Who should pass me but my neighbors in their black Range Rover with darkly tinted windows. I watched the Rover slowly crawl to a stop then sat there. I smiled at them and stopped myself, turning extremely nervous inside. What if Sabrina had placed me directly in the path of a serial killer? Or worse. How the heck, do I explain my existence in that rundown shack?

  I froze with a plastered smile on my face as I watched the black Range Rover slowly back up next to me. Then in what seemed like an even slower pace was watching the passenger window lower down. Who was driving the car was not who I expected. I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Maybe some dangerously looking mountain man, with a hidden knife next to his seat to dice me up with.

  “Need a lift?” His voice was smooth and deep. His eyes hid behind very expensive sunglasses while his jaw was chiseled in a tense motion, and his mouth was set in a straight line. He had one hand draped across the black leather steering wheel and another down by his side. ‘Serial murderers come in all shapes and sizes.’ My inner scared cat voice squeaked in my head. While the sexual part of me imagined what lied behind those sunglasses and underneath the pricey tee shirt he was wearing. As if he read my mind, he raised his glasses to his head and attempted a smile. “Mike Smith. I believe we are neighbors.”

  I reached my hand in to shake his. He accepted and pulled his hand off the steering wheel and turned towards me as he shook my hand. “Klarissa Rhi… I mean Beck.” Hell I had to remember I was no longer a Rhinholt.

  He repeated his question as if I was bothering him. “Need a lift to town?” Before I could stop myself, I asked the stupid question, which I knew could lead to more questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. “How far is town?”

  He cocked his head and with a squint of his eyes; he reached up, slide his glasses back down and draped his hand back over his wheel looking straight ahead. “Farther than you’d want to walk those pretty new shoes of yours.”

  How did he know my shoes where new? Christ did I have immature stupid written on my forehead. I sensed Mr. Smith and I, if that was even his real name, were not going to be new BFFs. As if. Asshole. “No thanks. I’ll enjoy the walk into town.”

  He grumbled something, then started to rai
se the window and drove about two feet. The Range Rover stopped again and this time, he shut it off and out walked a very tall and fit man with the type of features that read rich, yet laid-back man. He walked with confidence. His leather flip-flops matched his worn jeans. However, not his pricey cotton tee or his expensive shades or brand new Range Rover. He had money, but he had attitude as well. His blonde hair and blue eyes made him look clean cut. His lean athletic body shape did things to my body that any healthy normal woman would respond this way. I cut myself some slack for feeling any sort of attraction on looks alone.

  I took a step back almost scared he was coming at me at such a fast clip. He stopped just short of the cliff we were next to and pointed out to a large boulder on a rocky cliff on a mountaintop quite a ways over. “Well, sweetheart. If you insist on walking, you might want to head straight down this hill and hike the next to walk straight down the next. Town is down that hill from that boulder there. On the other hand, you can catch a ride with me and be there in less than fifteen minutes. Your choice. I leave in ten… nine… eight…seven…” He was talking to me like a child.

  I stopped him short. I put my hands up in the air. “I get it.” I examined my predator for a split second. His facial features softened quite a bit. The sun was starting to fall in the sky, and it lit up the back of his curly blonde hair like a halo. His hair was just shy of his neck with little light wispy curls on the edge of it. His blue eyes were intense when they weren’t hiding behind sunglasses and his face aged him somewhere in his thirties, possibly ten years older than my twenty-five. He was most likely far more educated and mature then I had ever been.

  I jumped in the Range Rover’s passenger seat and clicked the seatbelt in. I felt messed up. I should have just grabbed a few clothes and started hitch hiking my way to the nearest motel six and try to get a waitress job at a local café. Because at this particular moment, I knew exactly what Sabrina was laughing at while sitting in the Caribbean lounge about - me.