Copyright © 2017 by Sierra Sparks and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.

Published by Juliana Conners’

 

Chapter 1 – Mandy

 

 

What the hell was that noise?

Not the birds. But the banging that sounded like it was coming from the garage?

I think it was about 7:30 a.m. when I awoke to the sweet sound of the birds outside, and the awful clanging noise of whatever was going on inside our house. Technically it was my boyfriend Jared’s house—or, more technically, it was his rich grandma Sue Ellen’s house she let him live in rent-free—but I had been living with him for over a year.  

There was a lovely pair of song birds that had nested near our bedroom window at the beginning of spring.  They didn’t seem to just mindlessly chirp.  There was a real song in their voices.  It was a song that normally made me happy. But today, there was a knot in the pit of my stomach, just as there had been for the past few weeks, preventing any kind of happiness, even though it was my first day of my new job, and it was supposed to be a good day, a brand new start for me.

Looking over to the wall, I followed the design of birds I had painstakingly painted as part of the room’s decoration—my own attempt to make the house feel more like “mine” instead of just “Jared’s.”  Had the song birds inspired my painting, or had the design summoned the birds?  I couldn’t remember.  There had been a time when decorating the house and making it my own had been a joy for me, but that time had long past. These days, I was beginning to ask myself how much longer I could live in its suffocating entrapment.

Taking a breath of the morning air that was billowing in the open window, and trying to shield my ears from the clanging, banging sound, I rolled over and reached out for Jared, but he was gone.  Again. 

Now the whole vibe of the morning turned even more to worry.  Jared has been so out of it recently and always gone.  He never told me what it was all about it.  He always said it was work related, but I knew it wasn’t.  I knew it was something bad.  Maybe I didn’t want to see it. But that didn’t stop me from feeling it in my gut.

On this particular morning, I couldn’t just go running to him again, or waste time trying to figure out what was up with him.  I had to get ready for my first day on the job.  It had taken me weeks to get this position at Dunthrup Industries.  With so many of my other friends struggling and out of work, it seemed like a miracle that I could land something so potentially lucrative.  A decent salary, benefits after 90 days, vacation and potential bonuses— If only Jared were more supportive.

It was clear to me now that Jared had something to do with the banging sound. He was probably working on his old, beat up car in the garage, even at this ungodly early hour. Or maybe that was just what I told myself so I didn’t have to face an uglier truth.

In the shower, I pumped myself up mentally.  “You can do this, you can do this, you can do this,” I told myself, to the same rhythm as the water running over my body. 

I was in pretty decent shape, but I had really wanted to drop a little weight before starting this job.  I liked my curves, but five pounds would go a long way toward keeping my belly from muffin-topping.  Being 5’ 6” and always having struggled with my weight in the past, I knew if I just worked at it, I could tighten up.  But Jared had me so stressed out and I had eaten so much ice cream in front of the TV. 

I got out of the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. I squinted at myself, deciding I still looked pretty damn sexy, extra weight or not.

“You can do this,” I said.  “You have what it takes.  You can do this.”

By this point, I was no longer sure I was talking about my first day of work. I had a gnawing feeling I was talking about dealing with the glaring problem that was my relationship.

Our bathroom was an outdated pink and green. It was a horrific color combination conjured up by Sue Ellen’s 60’s or 70’s nostalgia.  When I moved in with Jared, we undertook so much work to make it feel less like his grandmother’s and more like our own.  We had to tear up carpeting, repaint walls and take down the ugly Safari wallpaper in the basement. 

Back then, the house was a project for both Jared and me together.  That’s what had made it special. But over time, our enthusiasm for house renovation projects had faded, along with the zeal of our relationship, and we had never made it so far as to update this bathroom.

I dried off, put on makeup and got dressed.  I was starting to perk up.  I felt I looked a little like Rebel Wilson, but with auburn hair and a prettier face.  I sometimes wished I was her.  She never seemed self-conscious at all.  But with her as my spirit animal, I prepped my coffee mug. 

“Yeah, you can do this,” I said, starting to convince myself.  “A new job is going to change everything.”

Then, as I heard Jared clanging around in the garage again, it dawned on me that I really had to face this.  I needed to confront him before my big day.  Who knows?  Maybe he’d have it together and see me off.  Maybe he’d be the old Jared; full of life, hope and ambition.

The moment I walked in the garage, I instantly regretted my decision.  Jared looked like a cornered rat.  He was on the floor of the garage, scrubbing away at the cement, and the acrid smell of chemicals was in the air.

“Jared,” I said, trying to be in control.  “What the hell is this?”

“Nothing, go back to bed.”

Jared had a gaunt Jesus body and face that I had initially been very attracted to, because it hadn’t been that skinny.  But he had somehow gotten very thin.  The muscle tone was gone from his face, as if he was wasting away.  His hair, once his best feature, was stringy and greasy.  He was wearing his old denim jacket from middle school.  The thing was full of holes, but he kept insisting I mend it for him.

“Jared, I can’t go back to bed. I’m starting my new job today,” I said, incredulous.

“So, what?  You think you’re better than me?”

“I’m starting the job for us!  Working for us!”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing!  What are you doing?!”

“Don’t worry about it.  Just go back to bed.”

“I’m going to work!  Are you even listening?!”

The smell of the chemicals was overwhelming.  On a workbench, he had poured some translucent substance in one of my baking sheets.  It had turned to crystal and was already cracking.  That’s when I remembered something I saw on television.  Breaking Bad.

“Oh, my God!  Is that meth?  Are you making meth?”

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” he assured.  “This is how I make money. Just like you’re doing. It’s nothing bad.”

“I’ve seen Breaking Bad.  I know what that is!”

“Relax, baby.”

Relax, baby, my ass, was all I could manage to think. Leave it to someone who was up all night making meth to tell me to relax.

Apparently, before I could leave for my first day of work, it was time to have a showdown with my boyfriend. I sure hoped Rebel was ready to be my spirit animal now more than ever.