by Quinn Loftis
But the worst part was when she came home to her apartment every afternoon or evening. Much like Skip, Derek had gotten his own lawn chair so he could sit outside and smoke. From her parking spot, she had to walk right past his apartment to get to the stairs leading up to her own. During these times, Derek would stare directly at her, but never say a word. She tried her best to ignore him and walk quickly past, but his incessant staring made her skin crawl.
Charity had finally convinced Samantha to go the police, but they were unhelpful. The officer had told Samantha they couldn’t do anything unless Derek did something overtly threatening. Since she could only show them a few benign notes, they wouldn’t issue a restraining order. So, for now, she counted the days until her lease was up, which, unfortunately, was three long months from now.
At some point, Samantha realized she’d settled into an unhealthy emotional pattern. Derek’s creepy notes and Jason’s despondent videos began to pull her in opposite directions. She wanted desperately to shove Derek off of a cliff, and she wanted equally desperately to throw Jason a lifeline. But she couldn’t do either, so she settled for becoming increasingly irritable. She became so waspish that Charity and Jessica joked she must actually be Tran’s illegitimate daughter.
The tumult continued until Saturday, August 18th, two weeks before the wedding. It had been a week since Jason had posted a video. Samantha was getting worried about him. She’d texted, called, and emailed, but he’d refused to respond. It seemed every few minutes, Charity’s words came back to her again. Brent thinks he’s going to kill himself, drive his RV off a cliff or something. Samantha didn’t have any way of getting in touch with Jason. She actually debated on calling the police in Cleveland, Ohio, the last place he’d posted from. But she knew that’d be useless, as he was probably long gone by now.
Samantha and Charity had just left the bakery Charity was using for her wedding. The baker had assured her both cakes, bride’s and groom’s, would be ready early September 1st. Samantha was supposed to come by and pick them up first thing that morning before meeting Charity at the church to get ready for the big day. Charity was just about to throw the car in reverse and take Sam back to her apartment when their phones beeped, evidencing a new video notification. Samantha pulled up the video. Jason’s familiar face showed on the screen. A rush of relief swept over her. But the feeling soon dissipated when she took a closer look. He looked worse than she’d ever seen him. Jason’s hollow eyes were ringed with dark circles, and it appeared as if he hadn’t shaved in days. Samantha hadn’t noticed in previous videos, but, all of a sudden, Jason looked like he’d lost twenty pounds since their weekend in Vegas.
“Oh my gosh.” She gasped.
“Push play,” Charity commanded and Samantha complied.
“Hello, America,” said Jason. The man’s countenance was in stark contrast to his surroundings. Purple mountains towered behind him, and a fast running stream flowed behind. Large fir trees dotted the landscape. “I’m here in Maine,” he said in a strained voice. “The North Woods, they call it. I’ve been hiking all day. It feels like I’m out in the middle of nowhere, but my RV’s parked in a campground not too far away … I think. Yesterday, I went canoeing. That was an adventure, especially navigating the rapids by myself. I’m about as far north as I can get right now without going into Canada. It feels weird being out here all alone, like I’m on top of the world. It’s hard to explain, as if I’m the only person on earth.” Jason looked at the camera but didn’t say anything for a long time.
“I need to say something to you, America. I can tell from the comments posted on my recent videos you guys are worried about me. I wish I could say you don’t have reason to and that I’m fine, but that would be a lie. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I really wanted to finish this trip for Bethany, but I’m not sure it’s going to happen. Every new place I visit, every new sight I see, just makes me miss her all the more. I tired. I’m tired of living without her.
“I just want to say that I appreciate all the encouraging words. Some of you are really good people. But some you … man … not so much. I want to say a special thank you to my friend, Samantha. Yes, it’s the same Samantha I met in Vegas. We’ve been corresponding ever since that weekend, and we’ve talked on the phone several times. I wouldn’t have made it this far, I don’t think, without her help. She is … one of the best people I’ve ever met, and I’m happy to know her. I hope she has a good life. She deserves it.
“I don’t think I’ll be posting again, America. I’ll see you on the open road.” The video stopped.
Samantha started screaming and slamming Charity’s dashboard with her hand.
“How can he do this to me?” she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “How can he do this?”
“Calm down,” said Charity grabbing her friend’s arms. “He hasn’t done anything.”
“Yes, he has. He’s going to kill himself. He’s going to do it. It’s just like Brent said.”
“You don’t know that. We don’t know what’s happened, if anything. Call him.”
“He won’t answer. He’s been ignoring me for a week.”
“Just try.”
Samantha dialed Jason’s number. The phone went to voice mail on the first ring. This sent Samantha into more hysterics. She was blubbering now, on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Listen, listen, listen,” said Charity, trying to calm her friend down. “Take a breath. Don’t assume anything until we know what’s going on.”
“He’s dead,” said Sam, shuddering. “He’s fucking dead. He’s jumped off a cliff. I knew it. Brent was right. He’s finally done it.”
“He is not,” said Charity. “He’s okay. I know he is.”
“How can you know that?”
“I don’t know how, okay? I just know it. It’s going to be okay. We will get through this.” She wrapped her arms around Samantha who collapsed, sobbing, into her friend’s embrace.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Samantha breathed a sigh of relief as she rested her purse on the end table beside her couch. She heard the hollow thunk of Jason’s snow globe within the bag as it landed. Even though it was heavy and made her purse unwieldy, she still carried the globe with her wherever she went. Neither Derek nor Skip, were at their sentry posts this afternoon, and she was glad she didn’t have to do the usual bantam death march past Derek’s apartment. Even better, no cryptic notes had appeared on her car, mailbox, or front door.
She’d been on the verge of tears at work all day. It had been a long Monday at the office, and Sam was glad she wasn’t scheduled at Roasters this evening. Samantha still hadn’t heard from Jason. She’d spent the day at work refreshing the video hosting website every five seconds, but no new video had been posted. When she wasn’t checking for a new video, she was franticly scanning news websites from all the Northeastern states. She kept expecting to see a story of hikers stumbling upon an RV found at the bottom of a ravine with an unidentified twenty-something man sitting dead behind the wheel.
She planned on spending some well-deserved time with a bottle of wine and her newest library book tonight. Sam hoped that, maybe, somehow, that would take her mind off Jason. But she knew it wouldn’t, not for a second.
Sam still had to go by the tailor at some point this week and try on her bridesmaid dress to ensure the final alterations were okay, as well as complete a dozen other tasks for Charity’s wedding the Saturday after next. But she didn’t feel like doing any of them. Samantha, honestly, didn’t know how much more wedding preparation she could stand. It just didn’t seem fair that Charity was getting married, preparing herself for a long happy life with the man of her dreams, and the man of Samantha’s dreams was missing in action. She hated to feel that way. Sam was trying her best to put on a brave face for Charity, but inside, she was falling to pieces.
Samantha had just sat down on the couch and slipped off her shoes when she heard a loud crack coming from her front door. Then ther
e was another crack and the door came flying inward, sending shards of wood from the door jamb showering across the apartment. Derek stood in the doorway with a crowbar. Samantha screamed and leapt to her feet. Derek took a step into the apartment, dropped the crowbar on the carpet, and closed the door behind him. It didn’t latch, but it stayed mostly closed, obscuring the view of Samantha’s living room from the outside world.
Samantha tried to flee into the apartment, but there was nowhere for her to run. Derek was on her in a flash. He grabbed her and yanked her backward. She fell, arms and legs splaying akimbo. One arm caught on the end table, sending it, along with her purse, toppling to the ground. She landed on her back, and the wind was knocked from her body. No sooner had she landed then Derek was on top of her. He clamped his strong hand on her mouth.
“So, what, you think you’re too good for me now?” He hissed. Samantha tried to fight him off, striking him as hard as she could, but he merely grinned at her. “After all I’ve done for you this is how you repay me?”
Derek used his free hand to grab Samantha’s wrist and pull it in close to her body so she could no longer strike him with that hand. Then he adjusted his weight so her other arm was pinned beneath him. Next, she felt him grinding on her, thrusting his pelvis into hers.
“Everything could have been just like it was. We could’ve been happy again, but you had to mess that up.”
He let go of her arm, and she could feel him trying to undo his pants. Sam began to flail wildly with that arm and tried to scream again, but the hand over her mouth prevented any sound from escaping. She twisted and turned with all her might, almost succeeding in dislodging Derek from her body.
“Be still,” he yelled.
Sam didn’t even see the fist coming. She just felt blinding pain, and the world went momentarily dark. Her body went slack for a second, and her arms fell to her side. She felt something hard brush against her hand as she regained consciousness. Her fingers groped until they were able to grasp the object—a heavy snow globe.
Sam knew she would only have one shot. She lay mostly limp, gathering her strength. She felt Derek’s hand groping below her waist, trying to hike up her skirt. Adrenaline surged. With a primal scream, Sam swung the snow globe as hard as she could. It connected with a thud directly on Derek’s temple. He crumpled off of her.
Samantha scrambled unsteadily to her feet as fast as she could and lumbered to the door. She could barely see and the room swam. Sam thought she might pass out. She reached for the door.
“You stupid bitch.”
She heard Derek’s voice just as his arm wrapped around her throat from behind. He began to squeeze. Samantha couldn’t breathe. The world began to grow dark. Just before she blacked out, she saw the front door open and heard someone speak.
“Whoa, not cool.” She could have sworn she smelled weed, and then her face burned like fire.
When Samantha awoke, she was moving. She couldn’t see anything, but she could feel the vibrations of a vehicle beneath her. She tried to force her eyes open, but they wouldn’t crack.
“I can’t see,” she rasped.
“It’s okay. Don’t try to open your eyes. They’re pretty swollen.” An unfamiliar voice. “We rinsed out most of the pepper spray, but it’ll take a while before the swelling and sting wears off. And we won’t know exactly how much damage is done to your left eye until we get to the hospital.”
What is this guy talking about?
“You’re lucky your uncle was around when that guy attacked you, huh?”
“My uncle?” Sam was getting more confused by the minute.
“Yeah, I’m right here Samolian.” She heard a familiar gravelly voice and someone grab her hand and squeeze it. “It’s a good thing I’m family, or they wouldn’t have let me ride in the ambulance with you to the hospital, huh, Sambina?”
“Yeah.” Sam grunted. “Very lucky.”
They arrived at the hospital, and the paramedics wheeled Samantha back to a room. At some point, Sam was able to see a bit out of her right eye. Nurses came and went while Skip paced up and down, nervous as a long-tailed cat at a rocking chair convention.
“Skip, what happened? The last thing I remember is hitting Derek with a snow globe.”
“Ah, so that’s what I heard,” he replied. “I had just got home from a friend’s house. I locked my bike up, and when I got to the top of the stairs, I heard a crazy commotion coming from your place. I saw your door was a little cracked so I pushed it open. That’s when I saw that Derek guy chocking you from behind. Luckily, I got my trusty pepper spray on me at all times for just such an emergency. Sorry, when I sprayed him, I guess I got a little on you too. My bad.”
Samantha reached up and felt her face gingerly. She could finally open her right eye a crack, but her left was still badly swollen and tender to the touch. She winced and pulled her hand away.
“Thanks, Skip.” She grunted. Samantha began to fade as the pain medication the nurses had administered began to take effect. She drifted off again.
When she woke again. Skip had been replaced with Charity and Jessica.
“Oh, thank god,” Charity said, rushing to Samantha. She bent down and hugged Samantha tightly, careful to avoid her tender face.
“Hey, when did you guys get here?” she asked, giving them a smile.
“Not long ago. I’m trying to track down your mother, but she seems to be MIA,” said Charity.
Samantha rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother. Where’d Uncle Skip go?”
“Uncle?” asked Charity.
“Apparently, he adopted me as his niece while I was unconscious. They wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance if he wasn’t family. Of course, Skip has no ID, so they really couldn’t prove otherwise.”
“Brent gave him a ride home earlier,” said Charity. “The police were still there interviewing your neighbors. Derek was nowhere in sight. His truck was gone. But Brent’s got a friend on the force. He said he’d call when they caught him.”
“They won’t catch him,” said Samantha. “If there’s one thing Derek knows how to do, it’s get away from the cops.”
“He drove away after being pepper sprayed? That’s crazy,” said Jessica.
“You think this is the first time Derek’s been pepper sprayed? Believe me, he’s had plenty of practice.”
“I told you something like this was going to happen,” said Charity.
“Charity, now’s not the time,” said Jessica.
“What’s going on up here?” Sam asked, waiving her hand around her face.
“You look like the elephant man, but luckily nothing is broken. The doctor came by earlier and told us to keep you doped up and keep an ice pack on your face, and the swelling will eventually go down. All the blood vessels around your eye burst, but he doesn’t think there’ll be any permanent damage. They’re keeping you overnight just to make sure.”
“The only real damage will be to the wedding photos. No way that’s going to be back to normal by next week,” said Jessica.
Samantha made a groaning sound. “Great, now every time Charity gets out her wedding pictures for the rest of her life, I get to be reminded of this fun incident.”
“This is a lot more than an incident,” said Charity. “That son of a bitch could have killed you.”
“How do I look, anyway?” Sam asked. “Do you have a mirror?”
Charity showed Samantha the picture she’d taken of her while she was sleeping. Samantha made another groaning sound. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the swollen mass of purple flesh that was the left side of her face.
“Don’t apologize,” said Charity. “We’re just happy you’re okay … well, relatively okay.”
“What time is it?” Sam asked, starting to feel drowsy again.
“Nine,” said Jessica. “I’ve already called Tran and Brenda. “They both said to just call them in a couple of days and let them know how you feel about coming back to work. Brenda might stop by during lunch bre
ak tomorrow with some of the other girls from work.”
“Thanks.”
“Tran took it badly. I’ve never heard anything like it. He started screaming in Vietnamese at the top of his lungs. I couldn’t understand his words, but I got the meaning. I think he’s out on the streets right now trying to hunt Derek down.”
“I wish Tran would catch the son of a bitch and shove bamboo shoots under his fingernails,” said Charity.
“That would be nice,” said Samantha as she drifted off again.
Jason opened the bottle of sleeping pills and sat it down on the table in front of him. Then he opened the bottle of antidepressants and sat them next to the sleeping pills. His worn picture of Bethany, Hannah, and Chloe lay flat on the table beside them, along with a tepid glass of water.
The RV was parked in a campground in Albany, NY, where it had sat for a week after he’d driven there from Maine. The pitter patter of a weak rain shower echoed on the roof. When he’d arrived at the campground seven days ago, Jason had levelled the motorhome, hooked up the plumbing and electricity, and gone back inside. He’d yet to emerge since that time.