Chapter Fifteen
The road rolled past under his tires and Hoodoo’s eyes were on the horizon. His mind was safely ensconced in the warmth and tenderness of Tracy’s smile. Her laugh. The way her hair smelled. All of it.
It was no startling revelation to him that he’d fallen for her. Hoodoo never understood people who could lie to themselves. You felt the way you felt, and then you acted on it or your ignored it as appropriate. When you could.
That had always been his problem. Knowing when to suppress what he was feeling. He’d been actually proud of himself that Joey had gotten as far as he had before he tried to eat Hoodoo’s fist. That was an amazing display of self-control. That maybe he shouldn’t have hit him at all was something that had never even occurred to him. Until now.
Tracy had a way of doing that to him – making him see things he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Right and wrong had always been so simple. Here she was telling him there was…what was the word…nuances to situations.
But Joey had been looking for trouble. That much was clear. In this, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was still in the right, despite what she’d said. He shook his head and rolled the bike from side to side in his lane. The boy had come looking for a fight, he was looking to scare Hoodoo off. It had backfired on him. Apparently, no one had believed his plea of innocence, that he and the Bandits had just been in the area and were jumped by Hoodoo and his boys… and Val. But the way he lay there, near sobbing when the police showed up, told Hoodoo everything he ever needed to know about the man. Only a coward acted like that. A sniveling sneaking no-good coward.
And the bike was gone. So was Joey. And this was one of those times when he was supposed to do nothing? Someone takes from someone he loves and he’s supposed to what, go home? Sit this one out? That was what Tracy wanted, though. She’d even come out and said it. Telling him…HIM…what to do.
And then there was the rest of it. “None of his business?” What the hell kind of thing was that to say? It took their history, their time and threw it all away. It was his business because he cared for her and always would. It was his business because he’d ended up owing Hitmon more money than he’d probably make in a lifetime.
He checked his speed. It would look particularly awkward if he was arrested for speeding on the way back from jail. Sure enough, he was going a little…ok a lot faster…than what was posted. He took a deep breath and focused on the road, the thrum of the engine, the feel of the wind in his hair.
Was she right? The thought came through the zen of the open road, perched on his mind and waited patiently for him to listen. Was she right? Did he have a great need to control, was he so riveted in holding the reins that he had too hard of a grip?
The entrance to the park was shut down for the night, but the rest area was still available. Hoodoo pulled over and parked under a street light, more for the safety of the bike than of his own. He would welcome an opportunity to work off some frustration, let the muggers come to him.
With his luck, he’d be arrested for self-defense. He stood, stretched and walked around a little. There were a few who stayed all the way out here in the boonies, late-comers who couldn’t lay claim to an empty patch of dirt closer like Tracy had. Some in RVs, some in bikes, some in cars. He kept his distance, though, not in the mood to be social, throwing a wave when someone shouted a hello.
He leaned against the building and enjoyed the cool of the stone blocks against his back. When Tracy came to Phoenix, he’d been ecstatic. Not just because he was going to get some time with her, although that was a huge factor. But she was coming across the country, 2,000 miles just because he was there at the other end of the journey. That was… incredible. The fact that she would take the time, make arrangements and go through all the trouble for no other reason than to be near Hoodoo meant that she felt the same about him.
She’d confessed as much when she arrived. it was the first time she’d said “I love you” but the fact of her journey to say it had already proven the words. For some reason, he’d thought that there had been a turning point, a new direction for them both. It seemed that the new path was opening for him. For them.
But later, she’d asked him…no, begged him, to come back to Chicago with her. She couldn’t leave forever, she’d said. She had work and family there. He pointed out that he had work in Phoenix, that the Gilas were his family there, that she was asking of him what she wouldn’t do. So had begun the argument that had ended it all.
That night was the worst of his life. Instead of holding her, he slept alone. Instead of talking, he stayed silent. Her father was newly released from the hospital just then, and finally allowed to be returned to work. He understood her not wanting to leave him for very long, but the man was growing stronger with each passing day, or so she informed him. He hadn’t sounded particularly anxious for her to come home the last time she’d called, so why the hell did he have to be the one…
Hoodoo couldn’t stand still anymore. He left the shelter of the building and found a copse of trees surrounding a single picnic table. Without stopping to think about it, without realizing he was doing it until it was done, he drew up the frustrations and resentment in his fist and hit the base of the largest tree with the meaty edge. It hurt like hell, and the tree shook and rained leaves and dust down on him. Damn it. So he was controlling. That didn’t have to be a bad thing. That didn’t mean that he loved her less.
She’d wanted him to butt out. The bike was hers. It was stolen. The cousin was hers. So that meant, that by extension, the problem was hers. After all, hadn’t she left him? Again? They were no longer together and her life wasn’t his to control. It never was.
So, yes, he was just supposed to turn his back on the woman he loved. He was supposed to walk away from the injustice and injury. The bike was never his. Tracy was once, but even she wasn’t his anymore.
That brought him up short. Tracy wasn’t his anymore. He’d never thought about it, in all this time, in so many words and the words hurt. She wasn’t his and wasn’t going to be.
“You can be right,” Mamma Leonna’s voice echoed in his ears, “or you can be happy.” Mamma had given him a long searching look and sighed. “In your case, you have a better chance at being happy.”
“Well, I for sure ain’t happy now, Momma.” Hoodoo said, leaning against the tree. “I don’ even know what it was I did to screw it up, I was just…”
I was just holding on. I didn’t want to lose her, and I held too tight.
Being in control wasn’t a bad thing. Being in control meant being ready, being able to handle whatever came up. Being able to… being able to dictate how the world revolved. Hoodoo took a breath and thought about that.
Her bike. Her life. It wasn’t about that little shit Joey, it wasn’t about Hoodoo’s girl getting ripped off, it wasn’t about Hoodoo’s investment. The insane need to pay off Hitmon more money than he ever could make was putting a tear in that friendship too and it didn’t matter a bit to him. It was important to Hoodoo and he’d pay it back if he had to cram it down Hitmon’s throat.
Ok, so I’m an ass. It was remarkably easy to say, although it sounded a lot like Momma Leonna’s voice. So, what’s next?
“Standing in a rest area talking to a tree in the dark ain’t helpful,” he said to the tree, then added somewhat shamefaced, “sorry about the punch,” and strode back to the bike.
When he arrived at the RV, the lights were out and curtains drawn. He wasn’t about to come pounding on the door and waking her just to announce that he was trying to be more considerate. Morning would be soon enough.
It was a quiet ride back to the campsite.
“Hey, Hoodoo,” a quiet voice greeted him as he shut down the bike.
“Val? You’re still up?”
“Can’t sleep,” she admitted. She was sitting on the ground next to her tent, wrapped in a blanket against the nighttime chill. When she looked up, she seemed lost in the folds. “Been thinking a lot.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.” Hoodoo said ruefully, hoping it was too dark for her to notice his raw and bloody knuckles.
“Maybe… maybe we should head home,” she said hesitantly, her hand twisting the edge of the blanket. “Maybe this year isn’t our year?”
“You’re not afraid of those thugs, are you?” He blinked. Val had never had any fears about anything that she let on.
“No. It’s not them.” Val looked at the ground, at the bikes, at the revelers who were still drinking, anywhere but at him. “You’re… different here. You know?”
“What? How?” Hoodoo leaned over to hear her better. When Val was uncertain of where she stood, her voice grew very quiet.
Val lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. Back home, you’re… you’re always sure of yourself. You have plans and everything is… organized. Here, you’re… it’s like you’re… overwhelmed. I think your art is amazing, but selling it like so many oranges… It’s not you, boss.”
Hoodoo nodded. “It wasn’t me,” he admitted, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope. No, it wasn’t him. But it wasn’t too late to find himself – his true self. He smiled suddenly, feeling more optimistic than he’d felt since they’d gotten there. “I think, in the morning, I’ll probably be back again.”
Val smiled a tenuous smile. “Good. I miss you.”
“Val.” Hoodoo said as he crawled into the tent he’d brought, “Get on a pretty dress, you’re meeting Rocky tomorrow.”
As fast as Hoodoo was, he couldn’t completely avoid the kick well-aimed at his backside.