Jake and the Other Girl

by Emmy Laybourne

  Lindsay picked up what looked like a bundle of twigs and lit it off a candle.

  “Smudge stick. It cleans the air,” she told Jake.

  Grunts and howls of rage came from the laundry room.

  She brought the lit twigs over to the door.

  Behind it her father raged. BAM! BAM! BAM!

  “I think he’s got an old piece of pipe from the boiler. He keeps hitting the door,” she said by way of explanation. “But the door is metal.”

  She waved the smudge stick along the space at the bottom of the door.

  “I’ll check the seal,” Jake offered. He went back up the stairs and patted the duct tape holding the sheeting down around the door. It only held so-so. He pressed the tape down hard.

  “Do you have more tape?” he asked.

  “No.”

  He pressed down harder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I have to open it once in a while anyway because the air gets really skanky with me and the dog. I take out the trash. My dad goes crazy. Then he calms down after a while.”

  Even now, Jake could hear that the curses from the laundry room had turned to moans and weeping.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” Lindsay called. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Lindsay looked at Jake and put her finger to her lips. Shhh.

  Jake nodded okay, though he didn’t know why he was being told to shush.

  He dropped onto the stuffed chair. Barksly jumped up on his lap. Jake scruffled the dog’s neck. The dog loved it.

  Lindsay came over and reached behind Jake, into the nest of blankets.

  She took out an old-fashioned boom box, the kind that played CDs, and unplugged her earbud jack. The room filled with the sound of Bruno Mars.

  “I don’t want my Dad to know you’re here,” Lindsay said. She took the boom box and put it in front of the laundry room door.

  “You don’t think he heard me already?” Jake asked quietly.

  “He’s not himself when he’s O. But he’ll get back to normal soon and I don’t want him to know.”

  She looked up at him, pleading with him for some reason.

  “Sure,” Jake said. “I’ll keep it down. Fine.”

  She was wearing a sweatshirt he remembered. It was cut so it would hang off her, showing neck and shoulder and that little bit of fat next to her breast. That delicious part of a girl between the armpit and the tit.

  There it was. Lord almighty, she was maybe the only girl in the state of Colorado who could get his blood up.

  “I brought something for you,” Jake said. He grabbed his backpack and rummaged through it. Every stupid thing was jammed in and in the way.

  He took out the handgun and put it to the side.

  He heard Lindsay gasp.

  “Don’t mind that,” he said. “That’s not for you. Obviously.”

  It didn’t exactly make sense, what he’d said, but she always made him feel nervous and awkward. Maybe it was the way her big, dark eyes watched him. Like they were watching him now.

  “Here it is!” And he brought it out. A Snickers bar. Sized to share. How awesome was it that he’d chucked one in his backpack before leaving the store?

  Sweet coincidence. Seriously.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, and she started to laugh. She laughed and Jake’s face went red. Then she kept laughing and laughed so hard, she crossed over to the boom box and cranked it up all the way.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes. The last spasms of laughter leaving her giggling, then serious, then giggling again. She collapsed onto the couch,

  “God love you, Jake Simonsen. You braved the apocalypse for a booty call.”

  Now that she was smiling at him, a grin on her face, Jake could chuckle, too. He knew he was still blushing. Probably blushing all the way to the scalp.

  “You know my Dad’s in the next room,” she said.

  “Yeah, well. I know now. I didn’t … obviously I didn’t, when I came. I mean … I didn’t know whether you’d be alive or dead or what.”

  Lindsay drew up her knees onto the couch with her. Her sweatshirt fell off her shoulder just a little more.

  Yeah, she did it for him.

  Look, everyone knew that Jake lived for sex. It was his thing. He was handsome and popular and he talked about it—how sex ruled his life. People liked him for it; Jake knew they did because everyone laughed when he talked abut it, and not an uncomfortable laugh either, but a loosening-up, warming-up laugh.

  He’d have rather had O type rage or be an A type who might blister up if he went outside. He’d have much rather been AB.

  But no, the chemical warfare compounds that had leeched into the sky when the earthquake cracked the hull of Mount NORAD had taken Jake’s most important joy away—his ability to get it up.

  Now, here was a girl who kindled that fire and that fact was reason enough to celebrate.

  Jake threw the Snickers bar at Lindsay. She caught it.

  “Eat your chocolate,” he drawled, with his lopsided grin, and she laughed. Jake plopped down on the easy chair. Barksly put his two front feet up on the chair and buried his face in Jake’s crotch.

  “Down, Barksly, down.” Jake said. “Lord, this dog does not know the meaning of the word ‘down.’”

  “I know it,” Lindsay said. “I’m glad to see you Jake. I can’t tell you how glad I am.”

  She got up and went to the corner, where she had three plastic milk jugs filled with water. She poured a cup and brought it to him.

  “We have a well,” she told him. “I get it from the laundry room sink when my dad’s asleep. It’s pretty yummy.”

  It was pretty yummy. Had a cold, mineral taste. Jake gulped it down.

  He had a feeling like a golden wreath around his heart. It was good he had come.

  It was right he had left the others. They didn’t need him and this girl did.

  Now came a sob from the other side of the door and a different kind of bang.

  Lindsay got up and crossed to the other side of the room. She turned down the music.

  “You okay, Dad?” she said toward the doorframe.

  “I’m sorry,” he wept from inside. “You have to leave me, Lindsay. You need to go.”

  Lindsay flashed a look at Jake. What was the look—maybe seeing how this looked to him? Jeez, he had no judgment about it.

  “I won’t leave you, Daddy,” she said.

  “You have to go!” he shouted.

  Lindsay jumped, tears coming into her eyes.

  “Please…” he pleaded. “Please leave me.”

  “Shhh. You should sleep now. Go to sleep.”

  “I’m kind of hungry.”

  “I’ll put in more food when you’re asleep,” she said, checking again to see Jake’s reaction.

  “What happened, anyway?” her father asked.

  “I just had to take out the trash,” she lied. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you first.”

  “You have to give me time to get myself tied up while I’m still in control.”

  “Sorry, Daddy. The plastic around the door got loose," she told him. “But I fixed it.”

  “The next time you go out, look for a chain and a lock. I’m not satisfied this rope will hold.”

  Lindsay was looking at the floor.

  “If I got loose, Lindsay…” his voice trailed off in a kind of a sob.

  “It’s okay, Daddy,” she said. “I’ll be able to protect myself, even if you get loose.”

  And here she caught Jake’s eye and held it.

  “I got hold of a gun.”

  * * *

  Lindsay changed the CD in the boom box. Old-fashioned rock and roll.

  Jake couldn’t place it.

  “Thanks, sweetie. That’s nice,” said Lindsay’s father.

  Lindsay turned it up pretty loud.

  Then she came and sat close to Jake, on the love seat.

  “Who is this, again?” Jake whispered, leaning in to her.
<
br />   “U2. My dad’s favorite band.”

  “What does that thing run on, anyway?” Jake asked.

  "Good old-fashioned D batteries. Luckily, my mom kind of hoarded batteries. Along with candles. She had a fear of blackouts.”

  Jake didn’t know what to say, exactly—with the blackout cloud over the area, Lindsay’s mom was flat out of luck.

  Lindsay shrugged. “She never came home after the hailstorm. I think she must be dead somewhere.”

  The lead singer of U2 was singing about a beautiful day.

  “My dad killed our neighbors,” Lindsay said, looking at her nails. “The Cruzes. He would have killed me, too, only I got a rope around his neck and I choked him until he blacked out.”

  “God,” Jake said.

  “He wants me to leave, but I won’t. I go in there when he’s asleep or tied up and leave food for him. But sometimes he still attacks me, even when the air is okay. Something’s wrong with his head, I think.”

  Honestly, Jake was waiting for her to start crying so he could comfort her. He couldn’t wait to get a hand under that sweatshirt.

  But she didn’t cry.

  “We’ve just always been really close, me and my dad. I used to shave with him, in the morning, when I was like five. I used an old toothbrush. He’d lather up my face and we’d both stand there, towels around our hips, shaving.”

  The one song ended and another came on.

  Lindsay slid off the couch, scooting towards his backpack.

  “Let’s see what else you brought me.”

  * * *

  After she brought her Dad some food (“Are you tied up, Daddy? Okay, here I come.”); and after he told her his story (“So they told me to come out and see what I could find. And of course, I thought about you. I’d been thinking about you the whole time, so I came here to see if I could find you.”); and after she told him her plan (“We have enough food to last at least ten days more. I heard somewhere by two weeks the chemicals will be gone so it should literally be any day now.”); Lindsay finally, finally, determined her dad was asleep for the night and climbed onto his lap.

  * * *

  No go.

  * * *

  Even with her taking her top off, straddling him and biting on his ear. Biting on his ear hard, because that’s what she was like, he couldn’t get it done.

  * * *

  “Do you have any cigarettes?” she asked him, after she rolled off and got dressed.

  Jake shook his head.

  He was fumbling with his pants, looking for the foilpacks of Obezine he had stashed there.

  “No,” he said. “Oh, no!”

  “Shhh!” Lindsay warned, putting her hand on his arm. “My dad can’t know you’re here.”

  Jake brushed her hand off and then shook his pants out, knowing it was stupid, knowing already that they were gone.

  He thought back and could almost see himself on the street, shedding his layers with such stupid elation.

  Somewhere on the street lay three foilpacks, each with a ten-day supply of Obezine.

  Jake kicked the love seat and Lindsay jumped.

  “I gotta go,” he said.

  “What?” Her eyes were big, surprised. “You just got here!”

  “I lost something I need. On the street.”

  “Jake, don’t go. Please.”

  She was crying now. Perfect.

  “At least stay the night,” she said, pointing to the clock on the wall. “Stay until morning. Please, Jake. I really, really like you and I really don’t want to be alone anymore. Please?”

  It occurred to him suddenly that she had been playing it cool.

  That kind of broke his heart. Maybe he’d come back.

  Maybe he could find his meds and raid some food on his way back and he could stay with her here.

  Barksly looked up from his dog bed and thumped his tail on the floor once, like he was reading Jake’s thoughts and approved.

  Fine. Jake was tired.

  He felt like he could sleep forever.

  The foilpacks would be there in the morning.

  And if they weren’t, he could go back to the store.

  * * *

  They slept on the couch together.

  She cuddled into him and soon her breath came heavy and soft.

  Jake lay there, holding a hot girl in his arms and he didn’t have sex with her and he couldn’t believe that this was how it was going to be.

  * * *

  She got up before him and made him breakfast. A plate of tuna with crackers on the side.

  “Jeez,” he said, eying the dry tuna. “This what you’ve been eating?”

  She looked away.

  Jake felt dumb. Obviously this was the best she could do. Why didn’t he ever think before he shot off his mouth?

  “Looks good,” he told Lindsay. “Thanks.”

  In the corner, Barksly was licking the pouch the tuna had come from.

  “Look,” Jake said in a quiet voice. “I lost something on the street. Something I need. So I gotta go out and get it.”

  “You’ll never come back,” she said. She kept her head low, so her hair hung down and he couldn’t see her face.

  “Don’t be like that,” Jake said.

  “It’s okay. We’re doing okay. We don’t need you.”

  She turned her back but it’s hard to hide you’re crying in a room with a mirrored wall.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Jake,” she said.

  She didn’t understand, about the pills. Without them, he wouldn’t make it. As simple as that. The despair would sit down on him again and he’d be done for.

  But he didn’t expect her to understand. How could she? He hadn’t given her the information.

  Didn’t want to.

  Just wanted to get the hell out of there now.

  Jake looked around, gathering up his things. He couldn’t let Lindsay have everything from the backpack. What if after he got the pills he decided to try for Denver? He left the chocolate, some gum, two energy bars. But he needed the rest.

  “I don’t want your chocolate!” she yelled. “Just go. GET OUT OF HERE!”

  “Who’s there? Lindsay, are you okay?” came her dad’s voice.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” she called.

  “It’s just me, Jake Simonsen, sir. I came to check on your daughter.”

  “Who?!”

  “Jake Simonsen, from the football team.”

  The captain of the team, he didn’t need to add.

  “I remember you! I remember you!” Lindsay’s father said with rising agitation.

  “He’s leaving now,” she said. “So that’s that.”

  Jake was waiting for Lindsay’s dad to freak out. Start threatening to kill him, beating the door with his pipe.

  But no.

  Mr. Morrow’s voice got earnest and low, “You’ve got to take Lindsay with you.”

  Jake could tell he had his face pressed up against the door.

  “She won’t leave me and she has got to leave me,” her father said.

  “I don’t even know where I’m going,” Jake said.

  “It doesn’t matter. Son, please, please, you’ve got to get her away from me.”

  “I won’t leave you!” Lindsay protested. “Stop trying to make me leave you! The air will be safe any day now, and who’s going to take care of you?!”

  Jake had his bag packed now. Only thing he couldn’t find was his head lamp.

  “PLEASE, SON, TAKE HER FROM HERE,” Lindsay’s dad shouted. “I am begging you.”

  Jake put his hand on the railing.

  He didn’t like to get to know the dads of the girls he hooked up with. It was too weird. But he remembered what Lindsay’s dad looked like. He was tall and thin, like his daughter, and stood in a way that made you feel he was a good guy.

  Did insurance, or mortgages, or something like that.

  He sponsored a youth league football team and Jake had seen him out with them, once. Remembered
him waving over to Lindsay as she talked to Jake while he warmed up. Tykes crashing helmets on the field.

  “Look,” Jake said, turning to Lindsay. “Do you want me to take you with me back to the store? I can take you there. You’ll be safe. Astrid is there, which will be awkward, but.…” He shrugged.

  He was willing to take the heat, to save a girl’s life. Of course he was.

  “You think I should leave my dad?” came her voice, shaky and scared. Her brown eyes shining big in the dark basement.

  Jake shrugged again.

  “I can’t tell you what to do,” he said. “All I can say is that I probably can get you somewhere safe.”

  Then BAM as her dad hit the door. “You have to go, sweetie!” The tone of her dad’s voice was rising, getting mad. “You have to GO! I’m your father and I demand that you go!”

  Lindsay crossed to the metal door and put her hand on the center of it.

  “But Daddy, I can’t leave you locked up, and if I let you out, you’ll go crazy when we leave.”

  “You’ll leave me locked up. And that’ll be that.”

  “Nooo!” Lindsay wailed. “Daddy, you’re asking me … you’re asking me to let you die!”

  Lindsay slid down the door and sat, leaning onto it, on the floor.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said. “But I can’t leave you. I just can’t do it.”

  There were sobs, now, from the other side of the door.

  “We’ll be okay,” she said. “We just have to hold out for a few more days, now.”

  “All right,” he snuffled. “All right, Lindsay. You and me, we’ll stick it out.”

  The whole thing made Jake uncomfortable. There was something about this kind of love. Not sick. But maybe deeper than he knew about.

  And Jake decided, right then, to make the hike to his house, after he found the pills.

  Just to check, in case his dad was holed up there, waiting for him.

  “I should go. So … are you sure you want to stay?” Jake asked.

  He didn’t get an answer.

  Jake hoisted the backpack up onto his shoulders.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “You want to get ready? I need to open the door.”

  “Wait!” Lindsay said. “I do need something from you, Jake.”

  She looked up at him.

  “You’re leaving me that gun.”

  Copyright (C) 2013 by Emmy Laybourne

  Art copyright (C) 2013 by Gregory Manchess