by P. K. Lynch
When I reached the rest stop, a black woman manning the toilets took one look at me and clicked her tongue. I thought she was going to send me away so I showed her my blanket, and begged. My face was on fire.
‘Stupid womanhood,’ she said. ‘What’s it good for anyway? Nothing but turning sane guys crazy and slowing sad gals down, that’s what.’
She fetched some pads and I took them gratefully. She opened up the shower for me, face serious as death, and walked away shaking her head at the sadness of a woman’s lot. I locked the door and turned on the water. As I undressed, I was aware of a dark shape moving in the mirror. I didn’t dare to look. I stepped into the shower and the water shot down like hot needles. I took the soap, turning it over and over in my hands. A thousand stinging bubbles washed me good, and the water cried red circles down the drain.
It’s chicken blood, stupid. Just take it. My sister held out a soiled maxi pad. Show it to Pop.
I don’t want to, Jojo. Don’t make me. Take it away.
He’s coming, Aggie. Please. Just do it.
She shoved it in my hands just as Pop walked in from the field. Of course, I did as she asked. I laid it before him and prayed to die when he looked at me with such revulsion, I thought surely he must hate me now. Then with young, jealous eyes, I could only watch as Jojo took his hand and gently led him away.
The days were elastic. Seemed they stretched far beyond their possibility before snapping back to night time. I picked up cheap paperbacks for entertainment, or newspapers people threw away. I arranged my cans in alphabetical order, then by color, then according to the calorie count on the side. When the cans were empty, I lined them up and threw stones at them for target practice. I did handstands against the wall. I lay on my back and cycled the air. I did everything I could think of to do, and when I ran out of ideas, I’d stop moving. That’s when Jojo burst into my head. It was a hard job getting her to leave.
Whenever Jojo saw me on Pop’s knee, she’d say, You’re too big for that now, and I’d slide off if he let me, but sometimes he held on.
Little girls never get too big for daddy hugs.
One day, he came in unexpectedly early. Jojo was upstairs while I was sitting at the table, struggling with some number work. Fractions gave me a headache. One day I could do them, the next it was like a different language. No matter how hard I tried, the formula wouldn’t stick.
Where’s your sister? asked Pop, shrugging his boots off at the door.
I was glad to lay my pencil down. Changing sheets upstairs. You want some lemon tea? We just made it this morning.
I scraped my chair back and headed to the fridge, but he caught my wrist and dragged me to him, his strong hands forcing giggles as he squeezed.
I just want my baby girl.
He pulled me tight into him and walked me over to the couch, where we both sat down, my shoulder nestled beneath his underarm, his right hand wrapped around my right forearm, my left hand caught in his.
Don’t want nothing in the world except my baby girl, he said again. He kissed the crown of my head and inhaled deeply. As his body deflated on the out breath, I relaxed further into him. He moved my right arm across the hill of his belly.
You aint too big for nothing, are you? he said, almost to himself, and gave me a gentle, reassuring hug. I grinned.
No, sir, I whispered.
A creak on the ceiling above told us Jojo was on her way back down. Quick as a wink, I sprang from the sofa and returned to my schoolwork. When Jojo came in, I was as she’d left me. Pop watched the TV news, his feet crossed one over the other, his big toe peeking out of a hole in his sock.
Want me to fix that? she asked him. Without looking at her, he shook his head no, and turned up the volume. When she turned away, I dared to glance up at him. He was smiling right at me.
I was in a tight hole in a canyon wall when I woke one morning with a start. Something bad happened in my dream. I pushed it away to that part of my brain where I push all the bad things. I stepped outside for a change of scene only to discover a circle of paw prints around my burned-out fire. I took a real good look and my mouth went dry. If they were bobcat prints, it was one hell of a big bobcat. I got a sick kind of feeling inside. My eyes followed the trail as it led off. Bigger than a bobcat, bigger than a coyote.
When I was a little girl, Pop and Cy had stayed out every night for a week trying to catch a cougar that was taking down the sheep but I’d never thought of it since. Mountain lions didn’t like people. Mountain lions kept away. But not this one.
I packed up. The sun was sitting lower every day and I started to think about winter. Snow could rise up to hug your waist, could steal a body and keep it till spring. My funds were low anyway. I needed a new ride. Figured it was good a time as any to take a break from the country.
4
I was sitting in a Dairy Queen, trying to make my coke last, when James squeezed his fat ass into the next table down from me. Empty tables all over but he chose the one where we couldn’t avoid looking straight at each other. I didn’t mind because I’d been watching him through the window long enough to know he had a van and was on his way somewhere. Happy days. I smiled at him but he looked away and concentrated hard on his food. I waited for him to finish, which he tried to do quickly on account of me staring at him.
‘Careful, mister. My sister says you eat too fast you get sick.’
He nodded. Fries poked out the sides of his mouth as he replied, ‘Heartburn.’
‘Yeah, that’s what she said.’
‘Well, that’s why I drink milk, isn’t it.’ He lifted his glass up, as though I was too dumb to see it sitting right there beside him.
‘I hope I don’t never get heartburn. My sister says it hurts like hell.’
Jojo acted as though everything hurt like hell as long as it was a man doing the complaining. She used to fuss over the men like they were babies if they even caught a cold. Made me mad to see her fuss over them and their sniffles like they’d just lost an arm, but maybe she taught me a lesson.
James burped, his chin all shiny from grease and milk.
‘Pardon you, mister.’
I handed him a napkin and gave him my best smile, little orphan Annie appealing to Daddy Warbucks.
‘Nothing worse than trapped wind, mister.’
James was in his early forties, but carried the decayed heart of a fading seventy-year-old. The cab of his truck was littered with donut boxes and Dr Pepper cans. He was fairly busting out at the seams. His stomach forced its way past the feeble buttons on his blue-check shirt, spilled over the top of his corduroy pants, and went all the way round to his back when he was sat behind the wheel; a big lumpy cushion of flesh that was making its way back from the coast with a load of fish and lobsters. It was what he did.
He apologized for smelling like the fish. He said the smell never left, no matter how hard he scrubbed. I have to say, he did smell pretty bad, but the guy was prepared to drive me so I let him talk.
His ex-wife had set him up with the driving job and then wouldn’t let him in the house on account of the smell. He later found out she’d been having an affair with his boss but instead of straightening the guy out, James had found he needed the wages to pay his ex the alimony the lawyers said he now owed her. He told me how lonely he was, that he had a kid he wasn’t allowed to see, that in his darker moments he’d considered taking the kid and jumping off a cliff. It wasn’t often I met someone sadder than me.
I sat beside him, eating his donuts, trying to ignore his crying, and when dusk came I asked him to pull over so I could pee. He stopped by the side of the road. There was no place to hide so I figured I’d just do it up against the wheel. I was zipping myself up when I caught him in the side mirror. He was looking at me. My instincts told me not to get back in but there was no place for me to go out there. If I ran, he’d be sure to follow, and if we had to fight I didn’t much like my chances. If I got back in the truck, I could pretend everything was normal
and wait for my right moment to disappear, so that’s what I did.
We’d been driving in a tense silence for some minutes when he slid his big fat paw over my thigh. His hand moved up and down, kneading me like I was made of bread. I sat up straight as an arrow and locked on to the outside world. The first stars were appearing. His hand moved higher.
Lord, forgive us our sins. We know not what we do.
When he dug his hand right in and under, he hurt me. I yelped as my back arched and at last I found my voice.
‘James, stop.’
He kept pressing and rubbing, staring blankly out the window. He was breathing out his mouth, almost snoring. A little bit of drool slipped out his fat lips and greased his chin.
‘James, please stop!’ I hated my voice, so weak and pathetic.
He took his hand away and sighed. All the air seemed to leave him in that moment. His whole body started to shake and he began to cry in huge, gasping sobs. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m a loser. I’m such a fucking loser.’
He wiped his face with his forearm and the van lurched to the left. If he didn’t calm down we’d be off the road. I swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat and placed my hand on his arm.
‘You aint a loser, James. You just had some shit luck.’
‘Aint that the truth,’ he said, and wiped his snotty nose with the back of his hand.
‘Luck’s got a way of changing, James. Blow your nose now.’
I handed him a napkin and turned my head away as he blew. Sounded like an avalanche. I forced myself to look back at him.
‘You can’t give up, James. You got a little boy who needs you.’
‘But he aint gonna have no clue who I am,’ he wailed. I felt a powerful urge to smack him but I sat on it.
‘Not if you stick to life on the road,’ I said, in my most patient voice. ‘But there’s other jobs. Get yourself something closer to home.’
He mulled this over. ‘Maybe she’d take me back if I didn’t smell of damn fish all the time.’
‘Course she will, James.’
With his fat fucking face all shiny with tears, he looked like whale meat. I’d heard of people coming to resemble their pets but not their jobs. We were driving on the wrong side entirely now, and I’d spotted lights coming round a bend up ahead. I tugged on his shirtsleeve.
‘Stop crying now and slow down, mister. You aint gonna be no good to that family of yours less you get home in one piece now, are you?’
He straightened up and the oncoming car passed us with a blast of its horn. James looked at me with such gratitude it made me want to puke.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, wiping his eyes. He blinked hard a couple of times and gave himself a shake – trying to shake some sense into himself, I guess. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘I lost it for a minute back there. Jeez, life, huh? Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Don’t worry about it, James. We all got problems.’
‘You’re pretty smart, you know that?’ He punched me gently on the shoulder like we were old friends. ‘What’s your story anyway? How comes you’re getting into trucks with strange men? That aint so smart.’
‘Oh, James, I sure wish you hadn’t asked me that,’ I said, relieved to see we were approaching another town. Should have stuck with Plan A all along.
He looked at me with surprise. ‘How so, Aggie?’
‘Because now I got to tell you. Pull over a minute, will you?’
He seemed real interested, and looking for all the world like he hadn’t just shoved his hand in my crotch, he slowed down to a stop and parked up beside a drive-thru liquor store. I quickly scanned the streets, decided which way I was headed, and then I gave him the routine.
Shocking how much a fat face can crumple. I felt bad about it. He was one of life’s prime losers. But the heat of his hand still burned into me and that made me mad. Besides, I knew he’d get a paycheck and then another after that, and it was all going to his bitch ex-wife anyway.
I finished speaking and waited. I wasn’t totally surprised when he laughed. I’d had that before. Some guys were actually impressed with me. I normally liked them best.
‘Oh, that’s a good one, that is. That’s a good one.’ He banged his fist down on the wheel and bared his teeth.
‘Don’t get your hackles up, James. I tell you what, just show me your wallet. I won’t take it all.’
‘Won’t take it all.’ He laughed again and hung his head like a dog in mourning. ‘You women would make me a slave to y’all the rest of my days.’
‘Oh, James, don’t be like that. Biggest burden to bear is a chip on the shoulder.’
Well, they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but in that moment, James sure learned himself a new tune. He picked up his CB and said, ‘Y’all, I got a little teenaged lady in with me right now. About five eight, long dark hair, skinny as a bone. I’d advise you not to go picking her up less you want to meet a little witch who’ll burn you soon as look at you. Act just sweet as a daisy and then claim you got indecent with her. She’s a regular little con artist after your money, y’all.’
With every word I lost my grip, my means of holding on. When he finished he turned to me, grinned an ugly and said, ‘Aint no trucker in the state gonna pick you up now. Not with good intent, leastways. Maybe some of them’ll be looking for you. Teach you a nasty lesson, how about that?’
I grabbed for the door but before I could open it, he slammed the truck into drive and we took off.
‘I’m sorry, James. I didn’t mean you no harm. I made a mistake. I was just fooling with you.’ My voice trembled as my bravado trickled away. I prayed for a red light but we hit greens the whole way out of town. I thought about jumping but we were eight feet off the ground and picking up speed. I pressed myself up against the window, trying to draw attention before the houses and stores disappeared behind us. The speed signs told us to go faster and pretty soon we were back out in the middle of nowhere.
‘Where we going, James?’ I said, but seemed he’d lost interest in conversation. His CB was jammed with people responding to his message and he turned it off. The sudden silence and thickening darkness outside made me panic. I raked through the belongings in my bag looking for the hammer.
‘Fucking little whore. What you got? You got a fucking gun in there?’ James snatched my bag over onto his lap. He drove with one hand and with the other began to empty it out. He snorted when he discovered the hammer and slipped it down between his seat and the door. After making sure there was no gun, he shoved the bag back at me. With a weird snigger, he opened his window and began throwing stuff out – the bread I’d bought the previous day, a couple of apples. The few bits of clothing I had were whipped out the window and lost to the night. My throat seized as he whooped in triumph. This guy was fucking nuts. I cast my mind back to the last town. Did anyone see me? Could someone point the finger at him if they found me dead on the road tomorrow? Would Jojo ever know? We drove for an hour before he stopped.
‘Alright, bitch, get out. Teach you to mess with me in a hurry.’
I grabbed my bag and clambered down. Even in the night, the heat wrapped itself around me, suffocating. If I managed to walk away from this I swore I’d get a gun.
I waited for his cab door to slam, for him to appear from round the side of the truck, in which case all I could do was run, but to my eternal relief he took off at a great rate, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process. I threw my head back and screamed after him.
‘You fucking fish-dick! I’m so fucking happy your wife left you! You hear me, asshole?’ I punched the air and stamped the ground, my anger falling uselessly into nothing. I kept track of him until far off in the distance his red taillights were swallowed whole by the inky night.
Dark, dark, darkness all around.
Above me, a rash of stars measled the sky.
Could be I was hunted now. I prayed the road stay straight and I walked.
Walking was
a different prospect now I had an idea how big the state really was. No matter how far I got by morning, I knew it wouldn’t be enough. The land was impossible on foot. A person could walk all their life in those plains and never come out. The thought rolled out my head and slipped into my stomach like the dead weight of a viper’s nest. I thought of the cowboys who’d tamed this land generations ago and envied them their horses. Every mile or so, I came up on a sign that made my blood boil: Rough road ahead.
Ha fucking ha.
5
Walking and walking and walking till walking turned into a limp caused by a moon-sized blister on the ball of my right foot. I slowed to such a pace that a little armadillo kept up with me, until he spied something tasty and disappeared down a hole. I clutched my empty flask, as though any minute I might stumble upon a fast-shrinking river and have to catch its last few drops in a hurry. The straps of my rucksack cut into my shoulders. Gradually I emptied it of the little James had left me; newspapers, magazines, little stones I’d picked up here and there. Like a Texan Gretel, I left a trail behind me, and while I cried along with the distant coyotes, I didn’t know if I was running from a witch or straight into one.
Around mid-morning I saw a rise of buildings in the distance. My excitement lasted till I drew close enough to realize it was just a rest stop. No shops, no place to eat; only toilets and a storm shelter. Still, I was thankful to escape the sun. Hungry and thirsty was bad, but hungry, thirsty and burned was a disaster.
I made a short prayer as I turned the handle on the restroom door. When it opened, the tears that had stayed just beneath my eyelids all night long finally rolled. Thank you, Jesus, oh thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
I fell on the faucet and drank until I gagged.
Now please just send me a gun, Lord.
I didn’t recognize the girl in the bathroom mirror, though she looked as sub as ever she had. So dirty with dust, the only white skin showing was the tracks left by tears. I washed my face and drank some more and when I looked and felt a little more human, I made my way over to a shady picnic bench and tried to sleep, but every time I dozed off, Jojo’s face rose up before me.