Into the Void (Steel)
We left Memphis a couple days ago. For the past two nights, we’ve been staying at a cheap motel in the Cherokee National Forest. It’s real pretty here, and I’ve taken Emily hiking.
She still hasn’t phoned her parents.
The idea was that we’d leave Memphis and go back to Woburn. We can meet up with her parents there on neutral territory. The problem is, she hasn’t phoned them yet. Which is why we stayed in the forest a second night.
Now I’ve told her not to phone at all until we get there. If she phones now and they freak, she won’t want to go back to the area at all. And I want my baby to have a family.
“Ready?” I say, holding open the passenger car door for her.
“As I’ll ever be,” she says and gets into the car.
I take her hand and bring it to my lips. “You got nothing to be nervous about. You want to move to be near family with your husband and soon-to-be baby.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Why? What do you think’s going to happen? That they’ll lock you in your room again like a little kid?”
“No. Yes. If they could, I’m sure they would.”
“That ain’t going to happen, Goldie. I’ll bet they’ve grown up since you’ve been gone.”
We drive the next five hours, talking about all sorts of things, but avoiding the issue of her parents.
Mostly, I’m wondering how I’m ever going to get a regular job. How can I?
“I think we should get married for real,” I say.
“We are,” she says.
“I mean in the eyes of the law.”
Emily turns her head, and after we pass a transport truck, I glance at her.
“You’re right,” she says.
“Awesome,” I say.
I flash her my smile, and rub her thigh. I never thought I’d ever suggest a legal marriage, but then I never thought I’d be living outside the carnival. I’ve got to do this right for my kid, and right now, it’s the only way I can figure to be able to get a good enough job.
When we arrive in Woburn, I drive straight to the Motel 6. We check in, and out of pure coincidence, we’re given the same room I stayed in all those months ago. The familiarity is nice, and it almost feels like coming home to me.
We unload our stuff, and watch tv for a bit. Emily finally seems like she’s relaxed. Her phone is on the bedside table, ignored.
“You can’t keep avoiding this, Goldie. You might as well get it over with.”
“I just need some time to figure out what I’m going to say.”
“You had days for that.”
“Well I need more.”
“Fine. Let’s go out and get something to eat.”
I don’t want anything to eat, I just want her in the car. Following road signs, I drive to Colmar.
“What are you doing?” she asks, anger in her voice.
“The phone just isn’t working. So we’re going to see them in person.”
“What the fuck? No way.”
“Yes, way.”
“What happened to seeing them on neutral territory?”
“It doesn’t matter where we see them, I’ll be standing beside you.”
Emily flings her head back against the headrest but does nothing to try to stop me from going to Colmar. I’m still going to need her to tell me how to drive to her parents’ house though.
I don’t say anything else, and we drive in silence. I want her to prepare herself for this.
It’s late Sunday afternoon, and I’m counting on her parents being home. Though maybe it’s better if it’s just her mother.
To my surprise, she directs me to her parents’ house without hesitating.
It’s huge, with a big, white veranda around it. I put the car in park, and get out. Emily gets out and walks straight to the front door. She knocks.
“It feels weird knocking on the door of my own house,” Emily says.
“You don’t live here anymore, remember?”
“I know, but…”
The door opens wide, and her mother stands in the doorframe, her mouth wide open.
“Who is it, Carol?” a voice asks from down the hallway.
“Hi, Dad,” Emily shouts.
“Emily,” he says, rushing to the door.
Her mother smiles and steps aside, saying, “Come in, come in. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Emily goes through the door, and I take a step to follow her.
“You’re not welcome in this house,” her father says, pointing at me.
“In that case, neither am I,” Emily says, reaching for my hand.
“Greg, you said you wouldn’t be like this if she came back. Remember?” her mother says, her voice a hiss.
“Emily wanted to meet on neutral ground, but I insisted her parents would be nice to her if she came here. Maybe I was wrong?” I say, cocking my head at her father.
“Of course, come in. I’ll make coffee,” her mother says. She turns to me and asks, “Do you drink coffee?”
What am I? An alien?
“Yes, coffee sounds good to me,” I say.
I follow the three of them into the house, Emily leading me by the hand. Damn, I knew her parents were rich, but this house is something else. It looks like it’s from the pages of a fancy magazine. The rooms are enormous, and all the furniture looks like it was made for a palace.
We enter into a bright room, with a huge kitchen at one end, dining table in the far corner, and a sofa area near us. Her mother goes straight to the kitchen area and begins making coffee. I follow Emily and her father to the breakfast table.
As soon as the three of us are sitting down, her father asks, “Where have you been all this time?”
“In the carnival,” Emily says.
Greg sucks air through his nose, and I prepare for his reaction.
After a few breaths, he asks, “What’s the matter, the carnival’s finished for the winter, so you’ve come looking for a free place to stay, or have you come to your senses?”
“Neither,” Emily says.
“Greg!” Carol exclaims from the kitchen.
“Neither? You’re just passing through town?” Greg asks. I hope I’m imagining the hopefulness in his voice.
“It’s certainly sounding like you hope that’s all we’re doing,” Emily says.
There’s a crash in the kitchen area, and Carol rushes to the table.
“Honey, Emily, you just ignore him. All that matters is you’re home and you’re safe,” she says, draping her arms around Emily from behind her chair.
“Mom, sit down. I have to say this and get it out of the way, and you guys can freak all you want. Steel and I got married,” Carol gasps and covers her mouth. “And we’re having a baby.”
“Jesus Christ!” Greg says.
“Greg, watch your language,” Carol says, her voice breaking. The coffee is forgotten, along with the shattered mug, and she sits at the table.
“How could you let this happen?” Greg asks Emily.
“Look, it wasn’t planned, or nothing,” I say.
“At least you did the honest thing, and got married. Even though I didn’t get to be at my baby’s wedding,” Carol says, unable to control her tears.
“We got married before it happened,” Emily says, her voice calm.
“You what?” Carol says, wiping her cheeks.
“We got married in July,” I say, sitting straight.
“Where? In Las Vegas?” Greg asks.
“No, in the carnival,” Emily says.
“The carnival? What kind of marriage is that?” Greg says.
“It’s carny tradition,” Emily says.
“So you’re not really married,” Greg says.
“As far as I’m concerned, we are. But we also plan to make it legal,” I say.
When we make it legal, I’ll be able to get a good job, and support them.