Contemplating if she should take off her shoes or not, she quickly opted for the latter when she spotted a cockroach scurrying across the carpet. “Yuck!” she squealed, flinging her feet up on the bed. With the decision made not to remove her shoes or clothes, Tammy lay down on top of the bedspread and cringed as her head sank into the musty pillow. Despite her ill feelings toward the horrendous accommodation, exhaustion soon took over and Tammy drifted off to sleep.
Fifteen minutes later, Steven crept out of the bathroom. The subtle sound of Tammy’s light snoring was music to his ears. Letting out a sigh of relief, he uttered, “Finally, she’s asleep.” Knowing he would need his rig first thing in the morning, he’d taped it above the water line inside the toilet tank; a hiding place he had often used at home since Tammy found his previous spot under the sink.
As the effects of the drug rushed through his veins, an amazing feeling of warmth and calmness smothered his entire body. The drug was telling him that life was good. Staring at the bed, his eyes and head began to feel heavy. He let his body fall like a lifeless ragdoll onto the bedspread, not caring where or how he landed, and drifted off into a deep, drug-induced sleep shortly after.
Chapter 33
The next morning, Tammy was rudely awakened by the sound of screaming voices coming from the parking lot outside. She raised her arm and squinted at her watch, angered to see that it was only five o’clock. Looking over at Steven, she envied him, blatantly undisturbed by the commotion outside.
“You’re a fucking pig!” Tammy heard a female voice scream in a drunken slur.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” a drunken male voice replied.
For the next hour, Tammy lay motionless in the dark. She chose not to turn on the lights or peek through the curtains in fear of being seen.
Frustrated and fatigued, Tammy had had enough and jabbed Steven on the arm with her elbow. “Steven, wake up.” She jabbed him again but with more force. “Steven! Wake up! I want to get out of here.” After a few more attempts, he finally began to stir.
In a drowsy state, he strained to open his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled.
“Don’t you hear that racket outside? It’s been going on for over an hour. Let’s get out of this dump. This place sucks,” she said, jumping up from the bed and grabbing her bag.
Steven pulled his body up to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes, realizing he wouldn’t be allowed to go back to sleep. “Don’t you want to shower first and freshen up?”
“I’m not stepping foot in that bathroom, it’s horrible. Cockroaches are crawling all over the place. I can’t stand it here. Come on. Get up,” she ordered as she stood impatiently by the door.
Needing a fix, Steven rose from the bed and tried to smooth out his wrinkled clothes with his hands before walking to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Tammy asked.
“To the bathroom. I’ll just be a minute and then we’ll go, okay?”
“God, Steven. You’re always in the bloody bathroom! Hurry up will you. I hate this place,” she barked as she stormed across the room and took a seat at the table, folding her arms in protest.
Not wanting to piss her off even more, he rushed into the bathroom, quickly closed the door behind him, and double-checked it was locked securely. The last thing he needed was her deciding he was taking too long and charging through the door in the middle of a fix. He hurried through his usual morning ritual, retrieved the rig, and hid it in the back pocket of his jeans. In record time, he had completed his task and joined Tammy in the room where he found her still brooding at the table.
Welcoming the sudden rush, Tammy’s bitter mood didn’t faze him—nothing did when he was high. “Okay, I’m ready. Wanna grab breakfast someplace? It’s too early to call my boss.”
“Sure, but not in this bloody neighborhood.”
Steven slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the door. “Will you cheer up? We’re leaving. Get your stuff and let’s go.”
Tammy dragged her bags off the table and followed Steven out the door.
For the next fifteen minutes, Steven hunted for a restaurant that would please Tammy and hopefully bring her out of her foul mood. Having already turned down numerous places due to them looking “dirty,” she finally agreed to a Denny’s, so Steven spun into the parking lot at full speed before she could change her mind.
Still giving Steven the silent treatment, Tammy tucked her purse under her arm and exited the car, slamming the door behind her.
“Jeez, Tammy, what’s your problem? Easy on the car door, will you,” Steven yelled, using his response as a distraction while he discreetly placed his rig underneath the driver’s seat. Ignoring him, Tammy continued to march toward the entrance. Steven quickened his pace to catch up with her and finally reached her as she was opening the restaurant door.
While they sat and waited for a table, Steven tried to sooth Tammy’s mood by taking her hand. “Are you okay?”
She jolted her hand away. “That motel was just horrible. I can’t believe you let us stay there.”
Steven retrieved her hand, stroking it gently with his fingers. This time, she didn’t pull away. “Relax, babe, okay? It’s behind us. We were both exhausted and took the first place we saw.”
“I know. It just gave me the creeps. I’ve never stayed in such a filthy place before.”
“Me neither,” Steven lied.
“It’s okay,” Tammy said, sighing. “It’s behind me. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Steven replied, finishing with a make up kiss on her lips.
Once seated and in better spirits, they feasted on a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage.
“Hey, babe, I need to go make a phone call to see where we need to go,” Steven said to Tammy after finishing their meal.
“Okay. I’ll wait here. In fact, After you get back, I should call my dad and Joanne and let them know we made it to Seattle. It was too late to call from the motel last night. They’ll be worried sick if I don’t.”
“Good idea. I’ll be right back.”
Confident she wouldn’t leave the table, Steven left to find a phone booth.
“Hey, Rick, it’s Steven. How’s it going, man?”
“Hey, man. You guys here yet?”
“Yeah. We’re somewhere in downtown Seattle.”
“Oh, you’re not too far away then. I’d guess about seventeen miles. You just need to head north on Highway 99 and take the exit for 212th Street.” Rick continued to give directions while Steven made notes on a scrap of paper he had found in his pocket.
“Great, thanks, man. We should be there shortly. And, Rick, one more thing.” Steven turned his head, confirming Tammy was still at the booth.
“Yeah, what’s that, man?”
“Tammy doesn’t know what I’m selling. I just told her it’s a sales job.”
“I understand, man. I gotcha back.”
“Thanks, bro, we’ll see you soon,” Steven said before hanging up the phone and returning to the table.
Steven slid into the booth and took a sip of the now cold coffee. “Hey, babe, we’re not too far from where we need to go. It’s about another seventeen miles. We should be there in about half an hour.”
“Great!” Tammy slid out from the booth. “I’m going to call my dad and Joanne. Can you get me a refill on the coffee. I won’t be long.” she asked before leaving to make her call.
After a ten minute call with Joanne describing their long drive, leaving out the horrible motel details, Tammy returned to the table and took a seat.
“I wonder what our new place is like. I hope it’s nothing like that motel.”
Steven had no idea, only that Rick had told him they could stay with him. “I’m sure it won’t be. It’s in a town called Knottsby. Apparently, it’s a small waterfront town.”
“Oh, wow, I can’t wait to see it. I’ve never lived by the water. Isn’t that where all the rich people live? Come on, let’s go,” she sa
id as she jumped from the booth. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
“No, wait…um, I don’t have enough money to pay for this,” Steven confessed.
Tammy turned and glared at Steven. “What do you mean, you don’t have enough money?” she asked in a loud, angry whisper. “You just got paid, for Christ’s sake!” She quickly scanned the restaurant to make sure no one overheard.
Steven followed her whisper. “Yes, and it’s gone. I owed that guy money, remember? Then there was gas and the motel room…”
“You only paid for gas once, I paid for the rest. How much did you give that guy? Oh, do you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know. Just give me the bloody check,” Tammy snarled as she snatched it from his hand. “I’ll meet you outside.” She stormed off to pay the check, shaking her head in disgust.
With tension between them once again, Tammy sat in silence for the most part of the journey. She was trying to calculate in her head where Steven’s money had gone—it wasn’t adding up. “So, how much did you give that guy? I can’t believe you’ve spent all your money.”
Refusing to look at her, Steven tilted his head back and rolled his eyes; he didn’t want to have this conversation. “I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“You don’t remember?” she asked, puzzled. “It was just yesterday! How can you not remember? And yes, it does matter, Steven. We have no more money coming in until you get paid from your new job, and who knows when that will be.”
Tired of her nitpicking and unable to explain that he’d had to buy some tar to make the trip to Seattle, Steven tried to reason with her. “I’ll be making some money tomorrow. Will you stop worrying? We’ll be fine,” he said, hoping she would just drop it and shut up.
But she wouldn’t. “I just can’t believe you spent it all. You had more than I did, and I still have half of my check left.”
Again, Steven rolled his eyes. Losing his patience, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and let his temper flare. “God, Tammy, will you fucking shut up! I told you, I’ll be working tomorrow and I’ll have some money. Now can we please just drop it?”
Surprise by his rage—never had he expressed such venom toward her—she stared at his dark, hollow eyes and watched his body tremble with anger. She feared he may strike out at her if she said anything more, so she retreated her voice to a much calmer state. “Fine,” she mumbled. Tammy folded her arms and stewed in her seat without saying another word for the rest of the journey.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the driveway of a modest single-story home and parked behind a black Chevy van. Tammy opened her door and stepped out, welcoming the fresh, cool breeze, especially after sitting in a stale car with no air conditioning for the best part of the last twenty-four hours. Scanning the street, she liked what she saw. It seemed like a quiet neighborhood, with modest, single-family homes in decent condition on either side of the road.
With their long journey finally coming to an end, the argument between them was soon forgotten. Elated to have arrived, Steven walked around the car with a joyful skip in his gait to join Tammy. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the front door. “Come on, let’s go find Rick.”
She followed close behind Steven as he led the way to the front door and knocked. When the door opened, they were greeted by a heavy-set guy wearing Levis and a white t-shirt. His long black hair was tied loosely in a ponytail and reached the middle of his back.
“Steven, my man! You made it,” Rick cheered, pulling Steven into a hug and slapping his back with a meaty hand.
Rick was not how Tammy had imagined. She had pictured him thinner with short hair, clean-shaven, and having a more professional wardrobe—maybe a suit and tie. After all, he was in sales; his rather rough-looking attire didn’t seem appropriate for his line of work.
“Rick, dude! It’s been a long time, man.”
Rick glanced over Steven’s shoulder in the direction of Tammy. “And this must be the beautiful Tammy I’ve heard so much about?” he said with a smile aimed at her.
Tammy smiled back and nodded, shuffling her feet towards Steven.
“Yeah, this is my Tammy,” Steven said proudly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in closer.
“Nice to meet you, Tammy.”
“You too, Rick,” Tammy replied.
“Well, come on in, guys,” Rick said, gesturing them inside with a sweep of his muscular arm.
He led them through a dark hallway to a small kitchen at the back of the house, which looked slightly bigger than it was due to the white painted cupboards and the two windows looking out onto the back yard. He pulled out two chairs from the table in the middle of the room. “Here, have a seat. Can I get you guys a beer?” Rick asked while opening the door to the fridge.
“Sure, I’ll take one,” Steven replied.
“No, thanks…I’m pregnant. Do you have any juice?”
Rick looked up from behind the fridge door. “You’re pregnant? Steven, why didn’t you tell me?”
Steven flashed a playful wink at Tammy. “I dunno. Figured I’d surprise you.”
“You certainly did that. Wow!” Rick said, rooting through the fridge again. “I only have apple juice. Will that do?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
Rick placed a bottle in front of her on the table. “Here ya go.”
“Thank you.”
Rick popped the caps off the bottles of Budweiser and joined them at the table. “I love your accent. British, right?”
Tammy finished her sip of apple juice. “Yes, that’s right. I can’t seem to hide it,” she said, chuckling.
“Oh, don’t ever do that,” Rick replied.
“I won’t,” she said. “I like your home by the way.”
“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s my parents’. They’re in Alaska for three months. So, right now, I have the place all to myself,” Rick said, nudging Steven’s elbow.
Tammy guessed he was probably in his mid-thirties and found it odd that he still lived with his parents, but she tried not to act too surprised. “Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, works out great. It means you can stay here until they get back. That should give you enough time to find a place.”
“Yeah, that’s cool, man. Thanks,” Steven said.
“Can I see where we’ll be staying?” Tammy asked.
“Sure, it’s out back.” Rick scooted his chair away from the table, grabbed his beer, and headed toward the back door. “Follow me.”
Tammy wrinkled her forehead. “Out back?” she whispered to Steven.
Steven shrugged his shoulders and proceeded to follow Rick. Tammy followed in silence.
They stepped out onto a large wooden deck while Rick held the door open. Off to one side was a round plastic patio table and four chairs, all of which looked like they might have once been white. Tammy glanced over at the dozens of empty beer bottles scattered on the table and shuddered at the sight of at least half a dozen tuna fish cans full of cigarette butts. They followed Rick down the wooden steps from the patio and walked across the grass to the far corner of the yard. A silver-colored travel trailer came in to view behind the broken remains of an old storage shed. Rick opened the door to the trailer and stepped inside. “It’s not much, and it needs a bit of a cleaning I’m afraid, but I’m sure it’ll work for a few months.”
Horrified by what Rick was proposing, Tammy froze outside the doorway and gasped. “You can’t be serious? It’s a bloody caravan!”
“It’s a what?” Rick asked, sticking his head back out the door.
“A caravan. People go on holidays in these things. They don’t live in them!” Tammy squealed, still stunned.
Steven reached for her hand. “Over here, babe, we call them travel trailers.”
Tammy quickly pushed his hand away in a temper. “I’ve never heard of living in a bloody caravan. There’s not enough friggin’ room for starters.”
Rick yelled from inside. “It’s not that bad,
Tammy. Come on in and take a look.”
Reluctantly, Tammy climbed the skinny metal steps and entered. She saw straight away that it was even smaller than she had imagined. Gulping down her anger, she began to walk through what was to be her new home. A strong musty smell lingered in the air, making her cough, but she soon realized her sudden bad chest might have been caused by the thick layer of dust coating every surface. The pasty yellow color of the cabinets and couch made her feel like she was stepping back into the sixties. The kitchen was the tiniest she had ever seen, with only enough standing room for one person, but it did have the necessities: a single sink, a small white fridge, and a built-in cooker with a small oven.
Walking to the end of the trailer, she passed a small bathroom, consisting of a yellow toilet, a tiny yellow shower, which she had no idea how she was going to fit into once her bump got bigger, and a miniature stainless sink tucked in the corner.
She reached the back of the trailer in no more than an extra three strides and found herself standing in the bedroom. With the bare mattress taking up most of the floor space, she stood still and glanced around the rest of the poky room. Overhead cabinets hung from the back wall with two brass sconce lights on either side. In earlier days, the drapes throughout the living space probably had a yellow floral print that looked quite pretty. But now, they were torn, rotten, and faded from years of being exposed to the sunlight. The carpet wasn’t any better, fraying in most places and blotched with a patchwork of stains.
Rick took a sip of his beer and turned to Tammy, who was now standing in the area of the trailer known as the kitchen—she couldn’t see herself ever calling it a kitchen. “See, it’s not too bad,” he said.
Steven was waiting by the door to the trailer, opting to keep quiet and trying to avoid the solemn look on Tammy’s face.
Tammy leaned against the sink and folded her arms. “Does the plumbing work? Is there even running water?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s not hooked up. But the back door to the house is always open, so you can shower and use the bathroom over there,” Rick said cheerfully before chugging down more beer. “The stove doesn’t work either, but you can cook in the kitchen of the house if you want.”
Reckless Beginnings Page 18