by Jackson Kane
“Technically you’re between two towns, miss. Right on the line, really,” the old man replied to my mostly rhetorical question in earnest. “I saw the wrecked motorbike. Are you hurt? Do you need help? You look a little banged up, miss.” He twirled a circle around his nose with his index finger.
“No, no, that was, uh....” An impossible story to tell right now. “I’m all right. I just, um... Broke. It.” Fuck. I was no good in the morning. I was a morning-coffee-before-I-could-function kind of girl, not a wake-up-nude-covered-in-my-own-filth-in-front-of-strangers kind of girl.
“How far are we from Salt Lake?” Hendrix casually asked.
“Oh, not far. I’ve been meaning to head there for a little while. I can take you if you’d like.”
“Yes, please! That would be wonderful!” I wrapped myself tightly in the blanket.
“C’mon to the house. We’ll get you cleaned up and with some food in you before we go.”
Both suggestions sounded wonderful. I was covered in dirt and dried... bodily fluids. I needed a shower so badly. I reached up, and Hendrix easily hoisted me off the ground. I didn’t realize how sore I was until I stood up. I had a lingering headache from my concussion and broken nose, not to mention how tender the rest of my face was. But it was the soreness in my thighs and my pussy that surprised me. I hadn’t been fucked in a while and never like that. His big cock certainly did a number on me.
“Thanks.” Not bothering with his underwear, Hendrix carefully tucked his cock into his pants as he slid them up. Getting a good look at it up close, no wonder I was sore! Jesus, his member should come with a warning label. He grabbed the rest of our clothes. “You got a name, old man?”
“Benny. My wife’s Agatha, and we’re just over the next hill.” The old man turned and started hobbling toward his house. “Agatha! It was just two young folk. You was right. They was having sex. Turn the heat on. They’re needin’ to bathe.”
“Oh for fuck sake...,” I muttered, burying my head into Hendrix’s shoulder. He just laughed, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort. “Kill me. Just kill me now.”
“No way I’m letting you leave me alone with Ma and Pa Kent.” Hendrix smirked.
“Who?” It was a reference to something, but I couldn’t place it.
“Never mind.” He frowned in mock disappointment then wrapped an arm around me as he escorted me up the hill after Benny. Walking was slow and deliberate at first, and climbing was hell. “You all right?”
“I’m just... a little sore.” It felt like I hadn’t stopped blushing since I woke up. It was awful.
“Yeah.” He licked my neck from my collarbone to behind my ear. It made me quiver with wanting. Goddamn him. “Next time I’ll have to carry you around because you won’t be able to walk comfortably for a week.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” I moaned, enjoying his nuzzling my ear.
He let the words hang and bit my ear instead. He lifted me up and carried me to the top of the hill.
Benny’s house, which was a few hills off the highway via a nearby, invisible dirt road, was tiny and appeared to have been in the family for a few generations. Strangely, the place seemed even smaller on the inside, consisting of a modest living room with a fireplace and a kitchen in the corner, two bedrooms, and a bath. That was it. There were virtually no electronics that I could see aside from a modest microwave.
His wife, Agatha, who just as elderly, eagerly welcomed us in. “Can I get you some coffee?” she offered while already in the process of making it without depending on our response.
“God, yes!” I nearly shouted and then bit my lip at the abruptness of my reply.
Agatha didn’t mind at all. She seemed like the unflappable type. Once the coffee was set to brew, she dusted her hands and surveyed me carefully. “Is that from the sex?” She pointed to the bruising and swelling on my face.
“No! No!” Horrified by the question, I told her the first thing that came into my head. “I fell when we crashed the bike.”
Apparently she had her own agenda, and without skipping a beat, she told us that she understood the exciting vigor of a little rough love. Then she went on to regale us with stories of their sex life. She related in extremely uncomfortable detail how she and Benny were still physically intimate, and despite the various challenges of their bodies over the years, sex was what had kept them feeling young. There was no polite way to change the subject, either, and Agatha was quite the rambler. I glanced over at Hendrix, who appeared equally bemused. After an insightful conversation on vaginal changes with age and the ever-present threat of incontinence during sex, she finally asked who wanted to bathe first. I nearly leapt at the opportunity, mouthing an apology at abandoning an ill-at-ease Hendrix to his fate.
Much to my surprise, they only had a bathtub. No shower. I had just assumed they were speaking in colloquialism when they said “bathe.” Obviously, they were not. I hadn’t taken a bath since I was a child. It just wasn’t a thing I did anymore and was never even a consideration when at another person’s house. Showers were more efficient. I had never been into relaxing baths, either. It always seemed like too much work or something you did on a romantic evening, and I didn’t have many of those, even if it was only with myself.
There was no escaping Agatha, even while bathing. She unexpectedly barged in where I gently turned down her offer to wash my back, not that it did any good. “Nonsense,” she exclaimed and did it anyway. I would have been far more freaked out at their obscene lack of privacy and personal space if they weren’t so genuinely good-natured about everything. Their intent was innocent and clear. They only wanted to help.
Apparently, she did the same thing with Hendrix when it was his turn. I stole glances at him when she abruptly pushed open the door, displaying to all his worsening predicament. The tub was way too small for him with most of his bent legs sticking out and the water barely covering his abdomen. I had to suppress a giggle at the image of this tiny, old lady pleasantly chatting while scrubbing the back of a giant like Hendrix. He sat quietly, utterly miserable.
When Agatha finished, she dutifully left him to finish up, then came back into the kitchen to start breakfast. “Oh! The trunk on him!” She winked as she swung her arm between her legs when she walked passed me. “It’s a miracle you survived.”
I chortled, covering my face with my hand while trying to hide the renewed flushness. It was incredibly hard to be mad at her unfiltered honesty without the Puritanical taboos. She had obviously lived far too long to care about upsetting others with her opinions. If I survived to be her age, I hoped I would have a fraction of her uninhibited personality. I liked the dynamics of their relationship as well. Benny and Agatha existed seamlessly in their own spaces. Without having to discuss anything, they just knew what they needed to do to further their mutual goals such as when Benny kissed Agatha on the cheek as he passed her to switch over our laundry. They lived perfectly symbiotically.
Hendrix emerged a short time later, having been more comfortable dodging bullets than he did with the elderly couple’s brand of hospitality. I was able to wear Agatha’s bathrobe, but they didn’t have any clothes large enough for him. Instead, they gave him a sheet to wear as a toga while our clothes were placed in the dryer in the other room. Despite his obvious embarrassment, Hendrix was resplendent, tattoos and all, like a noble Viking emissary to Rome.
Hendrix asked to use their landline while Agatha finished up with breakfast. Instead of his Viking composure, he now appeared as if he was posing for a sculptor as he uncomfortably sat on a small stool with short legs, his body all hunched forward. When I asked him what he was doing, he smiled and reported that he was making friends with our enemy’s enemy.
Nearly a dozen phone calls later, we ate a gigantic breakfast, and before long, the dryer dinged loudly, announcing our clothes were now ready. We quickly changed, thanked them for their generous hospitality, and headed out to Benny’s truck. On our way out, Agatha gave us both a big bear hug and
wished us well. “You two are a cute couple. You take care.”
When we finally situated ourselves in the vehicle, I turned around to wave to Agatha one last time. My eyes went wide when she brazenly swung her arm between her legs again before pointing at Hendrix and giving me a thumbs-up. What a dirty old lady! Hendrix caught a glimpse of the spectacle and chuckled deeply. Agatha winked at me and finally waved back as we pulled away. I wasn’t sad to leave, but I would definitely miss the plucky woman. I admired her fearlessness.
We didn’t have much to offer Benny for the hospitality or the ride, so Hendrix told him he could scrap Miles’s bike for a few hundred bucks. Benny agreed and reassured us that the whole incident would stay between the four of us. He wasn’t a foolish man. He knew that, for whatever reason, we didn’t want the cops involved. He probably talked it over with his wife, and they had gone with their gut that we needed help, not trouble. They both were just good, salt-of-the-Earth people who wanted nothing more than to be as helpful as possible.
We all had to share the one bench seat up front, which was the style of the old pickup trucks. Hendrix placed an arm around me and made it too comfortable to stay awake for long. I was running on fumes, still exhausted from the previous day’s events. Between that, the sex, and being woken up at the crack of dawn this morning, sleep took me pretty easily.
“Maya, time to wake up,” Hendrix’s voice was so distant at first that when I opened my eyes and saw the airport, I thought it was a dream. Then some asshole behind us laid on the horn, and I knew it wasn’t. “Salt Lake City International Airport” read a giant mural in the drop-off area. Why were we here?
There were people yelling and crying, taxi drivers arguing, and the general hustle and bustle of over-encumbered, stressed-out travelers rolling their small worlds behind them. Everything was extremely loud.
I had finally become comfortable with the silence of being out of the city. Last night by the side of the road, the motel in Laramie… before that… it was all very peaceful. Growing up in a city, it was easy to forget about what you didn’t have—the rich beauty of silence.
Hendrix had disappeared by the time I’d rubbed the sleep from my eyes and acclimated to the din. He hadn’t gone far, though. A loud crunching alerted me to his presence behind the truck as he was having a spirited discussion with the guy laying on the horn behind us, or rather, Hendrix was talking and the man behind the steering wheel was listening while in a state of terror.
“Benny, why are we here?”
“You’ll have to ask your boyfriend. I just do what I’m told, a skill I picked up from Agatha.” Benny winked at me just like his wife had. Those two were perfect for one another.
Hendrix, my boyfriend? I thought about correcting Benny, but I didn’t. Part of it was because I’d never see the old man again, so why bother? It was a nice feeling knowing that there were at least two people out there somewhere that thought Hendrix and I were a couple. Even if it wasn’t true, it still brought a slight smile to my heart.
Something metallic dropped from Hendrix’s hand and shattered on the ground as he opened the passenger door to let me out. I saw the car that had been making all the commotion behind us quickly drive around Benny’s truck and speed away—now missing its driver’s side mirror.
Hendrix shook Benny’s hand, and I thanked him for all his help. Then Benny’s truck sputtered a few times as it navigated the drop-off platform before it disappeared from sight.
“So the airport, huh?” I gazed up at the big man. A plane made sense.
“Fastest way to San Fran.” Hendrix peered down at me and smiled weakly. His usual confident, troublemaking smile was replaced with one that was just going through the motions. It put me off right away. Something was wrong, and that made me uneasy.
He read the skepticism in my face and smiled deeper, trying to cover up something that weighed heavily on his mind. He held my hand. What could he be thinking that had him looking so dour?
I stared at the wad of cash he pressed into my hand. “What is this?”
“Airports charge money for their plane tickets.” Even his snark was forced.
The realization that I didn’t have my purse flashed across my face. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t remembered that until now. Everything had been so crazy that I hadn’t had time to even think that I hadn’t had it since the warehouse.
“I had Benny stop and withdraw money from one of my accounts on our way here.”
“Are you...?” The words were surprisingly difficult to say out loud. An anxious feeling broiled from within my belly. “Hendrix, are you not coming with me?”
“I’m still on parole. I can’t step foot in a place with that many cameras. If I gave them my info to buy a ticket, it would prove that I’m not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
“But....” I couldn’t name it but something—maybe confidence or a sense of direction—whatever it was, it was slipping through my fingers like sand.
“My usefulness to you is about up, Maya.” Hendrix’s faded smile renewed but only in size and was more of a mockery of happiness. “One way or another, cops’ll be able to place me at one of the crime scenes. If they’re not already looking for me, they will be soon. If I stay with you now, I’ll only slow you down.”
“Hendrix, no....” I needed to find the words that would make him stay. “Together, I know we can find a way to figure this out.”
“It’s all right.” This time his smile was genuine. “You don’t need me anymore. We had some fun though, didn’t we?” He kissed my forehead as tears flooded my eyes.
Was this really happening? How could it already be over? I knew it had to end sometime but not already. I wasn’t ready... not yet.
“Where are you headed?” My voice started to crack.
Hendrix shrugged. He looked off over my shoulder and nodded to some vague direction. “That way, I guess.”
He thumbed away the tears that streamed over my cheeks and put something else in my hand. “This was Robbie’s. I think he’d want you to have it.”
It was my uncle’s pocket watch. I opened it and found an old picture of my mom and Anna.
“Robbie always had that on him. I don’t know why he never had it fixed, but it looks like he really cared about your mom.”
“They were lovers?” I wondered aloud, letting the words tumble out of my mouth to answer the hunches I’d been forming in the back of my mind during this whole trip. My heart sank, and my stomach contracted tightly. It felt like the air was crushed from my lungs when the realization came as to what happened next. “And Slick found out....”
I had a sneaking suspicion that Mom and Robbie were in love, but this locket actually confirmed it.
Frustration rolled over me like the exhaust of a backfiring car. Why couldn’t we have more time together? I didn’t know if he didn’t trust me enough yet or if he was just trying to protect me, but Robbie had been so damned guarded about his past with my mom every time we talked. He’d only really started opening up to me back at the Lost Boys’ clubhouse when Hendrix came yelling that we were being attacked.
Then Tex killed him on Slick’s orders.
“Is that why your mom disappeared?” Hendrix asked.
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out when I get that safe-deposit box,” I replied distantly, lost in thought.
“You’d best get to it then.” He lifted my chin, breaking my bleary-eyed gaze at the ancient picture of the two people I loved most in the world. I met his sad eyes only briefly before he kissed me. It was the last, desperate kiss of a goodbye without compromise. Just as we broke away, he leaned in and whispered, “Take care, Maya. I’ll miss you.”
Hendrix pulled away, leaving me grasping at air. I didn’t want the moment to end. I didn’t know how this was supposed to end, but I knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
I stood on the sidewalk and watched Hendrix vanish into the crowd. I would never
see him again. I was devastated. A hard but wonderful chapter in my life had now ended.
I was surrounded by tearful, hugging families and friends that were forced apart by their plane tickets and departure times. There were teens flying off to colleges, relatives returning home after vacations, bridesmaids flying out for their friends’ weddings. All of their parting dramas seemed so petty to me… so temporary. What could they possibly know of the sadness that I felt at that moment?
I stumbled into the airport in a daze and was a teary, swollen-faced mess when I reached one of the counters that offered flights to San Francisco. I took some solace in the fact the airline employees must be used to dealing with distraught people. Heartbroken as I was, the last thing I wanted was unnecessary attention.
“Ma’am… uh, are you okay?” The lady behind the counter beheld me with worry, and that’s when I caught my reflection in the mirror behind her.
Sad people were one thing, but I looked like I was hit with a shovel. Two black eyes, bruising and disfigurement of my nose, swelling and discoloration of most of my face, and facial scratches from Ricky-Tick’s jagged nails. I was a walking horror show. I didn’t realize I appeared so bad. For whatever reason, the elderly couple didn’t have a mirror in their bathroom, and their place was so rustic that there weren’t many reflective surfaces at all, none that I could’ve even subtly used as a mirror.
“I need a ticket to San Francisco. The sooner the better.” I groaned, extracting the wad of cash and my license from my pocket. I had no intention of explaining myself or what happened to anyone as I was simply out of fucks to give.
The lady saw my disposition and decided against any other questions about my well-being. She pursed her lips and accessed her computer terminal. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any available seats until... Flight Four-Thirty-Nine tomorrow at….”
Her voice nervously trailed off as she saw the hardening look on my face. It was an expression that said tomorrow would not work. She cleared her throat and began again. “Would you like me to check the other airlines? Maybe they have something available that is leaving sooner.”