Chapter two:
I awoke with a start, grabbing onto my stomach and looking around to see that I didn’t even remember where I was. Nothing looked familiar, and then everything came back in a flash of memory. Suddenly, I was on my feet and over to the window to see that the black Porsche that I had taken from the garage was not in the parking lot. My heart began to beat faster, thinking that Timothy had found us and was about to pounce on his prey.
I turned at the window, and I breathed a sigh of relief remembering that I had ditched the vehicle at the first bus stop that I came to. I didn’t need that monstrosity like a neon sign telling Timothy exactly where I was. I didn’t want him to find me, but I couldn’t afford much and this was as far as I could go on the money that I had in my possession. I was thankful that I had found a couple of twenties in the glove compartment of the Porsche.
Timothy was always doing stupid things like that. This was the one time that I didn’t curse his name. It was still pitch black outside, but I needed some air and to cool off after getting away unscathed. I could still see Timothy’s face glaring at me through the window that he had smashed with his fist. He was always volatile, but he had become more deadly than I could ever imagine.
I picked up my jacket, and I went downstairs and stared at the bar across the street. It must’ve been getting close to last call, but I could really use a stiff drink to calm my nerves. I thought of the child and how liquor could affect it in its early development. I’d read enough books to know that liquor and the fetus did not mix well together.
I crossed the street, thinking maybe I could get something from smelling that liquid ambrosia in my olfactory senses. I may not be able to drink any of it, but maybe I could enjoy the ambience and try to take my mind off the fact that Timothy was out to kill me.
I found the place virtually deserted. The only one man in the place had black hair hanging over his eyes. He was wearing a green army jacket and was sitting at one of the tables. He had shot glasses in a circle, and he was staring at them like he could see something that others couldn’t.
“I’m afraid that we are going to be locking up in the next twenty minutes. What can I get you?” The young lady had a lot to offer. Her breasts were a marvel of manmade genius with hard nipples that were poking through the black fabric like beacons of light. The owner probably hired her especially for her, shall we say, more developed attributes. She was hardened, and I could see that life was getting her down. “I really don’t have all day. I need to go downstairs to do inventory, and then make sure that everything is locked up for the night.” I didn’t mean to stare at her, but she reminded me of the woman that I wanted to be.
“I’ll have whatever you have on tap.”
She dipped the glass and poured the beer into a mug that was bigger than my head. I fished out a $10 bill, and I told her to keep the change. She disappeared behind the curtain, and I heard footsteps receding down a set of stairs in the back.
I sat there smelling that beer. I was tempted to swallow the whole damn thing in one sitting. “I don’t mean to tell you your business, but that thing is not going to drink itself.” His words were slurred, but he seemed to be in full control of his faculties.” I take it that you are passing through. I’ve been staying at the motel across the street for the last two weeks. I’ve never seen you, so I have to assume that you are a new arrival.” He had a shot glass in his hand, and he was waving it around like some sort of flag.
“I don’t really want to talk to you. I just want to be left alone with my drink. I’m not going to sleep with you and coming on to me is not going to get you anywhere.” He flipped his hair backwards, and I saw a pair of green eyes that made me melt inside.” There was something disturbing about him. He had this lost puppy dog look that made me feel sorry for him.
“Um… I never said that I wanted to sleep with you. Don’t get me wrong, you are attractive, but I can see that you are dealing with something. I don’t do well with drama. I live my life, and I try to keep my nose out of other people’s business.” That was a good motto to live by and one that would probably prevent him from getting in over his head. He had this look of a battle weary veteran, like he had been in some kind of war and had come back a little changed.
“I’m sorry. I assumed that you were trying your luck at picking me up at the end of the night. It’s a known fact that those that are desperate stick around until the last vestige of society is left standing. They think that they are easy pickings.” His eyes were glazed over. He looked like he was having a hard time keeping his thoughts together. “Besides, you look like you’ve had plenty, and I doubt that you’ll be able to get it up anyway.” I didn’t mean to put him down and the way that he looked down at his crotch had me believing that maybe I was on to something.
“I’ll have you know that my little soldier is ready for battle any time that I put it into the line of fire. It has never let me down before, and I doubt seriously that it’s going to do that tonight. I think that I’m going to leave, before I start to feel that you are putting me down.” The liquor that was running upstream in his veins had caused him to stumble and to fall against the same table that he had just come from. Those shot glasses that he had placed in a circle tumbled and rolled until they smashed onto the floor.
I shook my head, not quite believing that I was going to do this. I got up and approached him, lifting his arm and putting it around my shoulders for support. He looked at me with his eyes narrowed. I could swear that he was going to pass out at any second. While carrying him out the door, I felt that he was a well built man. His arms were like tree trunks and the green jacket that he wore really didn’t do him justice.
“Ian…. My name is Ian.” I don’t know why he felt there was a need to make introductions. He stared at me, most likely thinking that I was going to return the favor, but he was going to have a long wait. “I hope that I didn’t give you the wrong impression of me. I’m not usually like this, but I felt this need to get drunk off my ass. It numbs the pain, but it doesn’t make me forget any of the damage that I’ve done.” His voice was raised, and we made our way across the street. He pointed towards room number ten.
“I don’t know what you’ve done, and I really don’t need to know. I have my own problems. I think it best that we keep out of each other’s way. I don’t need the hassle, and I’m only helping you as a good samaritan. Think of me as that boy that holds an old man’s hand to cross the street at the lights. If you haven’t guessed it, you are that old man and I am that little boy.” It was a bad analogy and he started to laugh with spittle of leftover liquor clinging to his lips. He smelled like a distillery and his clothes reeked, as if he hadn’t bathed in days.
“You say the strangest things, but I am grateful for the assist.” We stumbled through the door, and I kicked it closed to keep any of the vermin from making their way inside. I wasn’t even talking about mosquitoes or rats. This part of town was not exactly the safest. “I don’t care about what people think about me. I really don’t give it that much thought, but things have been weighing heavily on my mind. I thought that I could bury it under an avalanche of shot glasses. It’s still there and it still mocks me.” I helped him remove his jacket and underneath was a red and black plaid shirt.
He was wearing threadbare jeans with holes in the knees, making him appear more juvenile than mature. “Let’s gets you into bed. Maybe you can sleep it off and wake up fresh in the morning. You never know, a good night sleep might make you see things more clearly and from a different perspective. It’s not like you can take anything that you’ve done back. It’s out there and you’re going to have to deal with it. I am also going to have to handle my problems.” I wasn’t concentrating, and my own thoughts distracted me enough that I didn’t notice that he was unbuttoning his shirt.
It finally dawned on me, and I couldn’t stop staring at his six pack or his well defined pectorals. I hadn’t had sex in a while, and I missed the closeness of being with someone. That feeling of someone new taking you to new heights was something that every man and woman strive for. We rarely make those connections, but when we do it is something to behold.
“You don’t understand… you just don’t understand. I may not be able to take it back, but I can’t go forward either. The memory makes me feel like I am in quicksand. Eventually I’m going to drown in my own fluids. Have you ever felt so trapped in your life that you wanted to gnaw your arm off to get away? Have you ever felt that life was weighing you down and that whatever you did didn’t fix a damn thing?” It was like I was looking into a mirror at the male counterpart of who I was. “I have nothing left to live for. I’m just going through the motions. I feel lost, and I don’t know of any way that I can be found.” Hanging from around his neck was a familiar sight that I knew all too well.
The gleaming silver cross was the faith that I had lost. He clung to it. Staring at it made me feel like I was doing a disservice to myself and to my child by running like a scared rabbit. How could I possibly look my child in the ey, when I didn’t have the courage to stand up to a tyrant like Timothy? I was disgusted with myself and that feeling welled up inside of me, until I found myself blubbering like a little girl.
I sat down on the bed between his legs, holding my hands to my face and letting the tears wash away the sin of stepping out on my husband. He wasn’t much of a husband to begin with, but it didn’t excuse my actions. He might have had sex with another, but he didn’t have that permanent reminder. The child was not his and finding the father was becoming an effort in futility. The private investigator that I had hired told me that he was a ghost. If he didn’t want to be found, then he wouldn’t be. He was on the job for less than two weeks.
“I don’t know what you’re crying about, but it can’t be that bad. If you didn’t kill anybody, then you really have nothing to complain about.” His hands came around with his palms up, as if he wanted me to see something. “Do you not see the blood on my hands? It stains and there’s no way to wash it all off. I’ve tried several times without any success.” I saw nothing and if he saw blood, then it was all in his head. “Their faces stare at me from the darkness. They reach out from their graves trying to pull me into a black abyss that I will never return from.” This was getting a little too dark for my liking.
“You probably won’t remember this in the morning anyway. My husband found out that I was pregnant with another man’s child. He went ballistic and came after me with the express purpose of putting me and the child six feet under. I’ve never seen him like that. If it was just an affair, I think that we could’ve gotten past it. He admitted that he cheated on me, and I suppose that is one thing that we have in common.” It felt better to get it off my chest. This drunk was never going to put the pieces together. His mind was too fuzzy, and he was reliving something traumatic that had grabbed him by the throat. It wasn’t letting go.
“My hands are lethal weapons. I’ve killed, because I was ordered to.” I could feel his hot breath on my neck. It felt nice, even though I don’t think that he knew exactly what he was doing. “Life is precious and I treated it like it was a number. I couldn’t do it anymore and I had to get out by any means necessary.” We were not having the same conversation. We were both unburdening our souls, but neither one of us was really hearing what the other was saying.
“He smashed his fist into the window. Had it been with more force, I’m sure that he would’ve been able to grab me. I don’t even want to think about what he would have done had he gotten his hands on me. There is a bag of lye in the garage. I think that he could’ve used that to make me disappear. I have to wonder if he has been thinking about this for longer than just today.” I heard snoring, and I looked back to see that he had slumped back onto the mattress with his shirt wide open.
I could’ve left at that moment, but I decided to stick around and make sure that he didn’t drown in his own vomit. I was too good, and I had always been that mother figure that everybody would turn to in their moment of distress. I’d never truly been allowed to let myself go and put my hair down for once in my life.
I helped him into bed, and I noticed the scars on his chest. They were most likely bullet wounds or even knife wounds. I don’t think that what he was saying was a figment of his imagination. He was what he said he was and maybe I could use that to my advantage. I felt bad that I was even thinking that. He didn’t deserve to be brought into my mess, but he seemed to be the only game in town that could do something about it.