Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jenni wanted to scream.
It was all she could think of, slamming her fists down on the bed. Why the fuck me? Why was she the only one left at home to deal with the two of them? Why did her sisters have to leave? One after the other. Why did Carol move to Dallas? Why did Peter have to go off to LSU? Why did Will have to spend all the time at the camp? Why couldn’t she leave too? Why was she left to live through all the shit of her parents? Why?
Jenni could still hear her mom crying in the bathroom down the hall. Hear her fathers drunken rants from the living room. She thought of crawling out her bedroom widow the way she’d done so many times before and go for a swim. Immerse her body deep enough into the black water where all she would hear were the muffled sound of their fighting. All she wanted to do was run away and hide. To get as far away from them as she possibly could. But she new in the far recesses of her brain she would never get far enough.
It was one of those dreadfully hot claustrophobic southern nights. Too hot for clothes. The only breeze came from the small oscillating fan atop the dresser drawers. She tossed. Kicking the white linen sheet to the floor. Irritable, she laid staring at the ceiling, sweat oozing from every pore. She couldn’t sleep.
They’d fought before, but nothing like this. The drunken swearing at each other. The threats. Things crashing, breaking. The accusations of another women. The hit. Smack. She’d heard it. She’d heard her mother’s deft silence, then her crying. He’d never hit her before. Why did he have do it this time?
Jenni hated this town, the school, the people, especially anyone associated with her parents, with their small town mentality and self-righteous attitudes. She wanted to leave. Get away. Escape. Craving a cigarette, or just craving to get the fuck away from them for just a little while. She needed to get out of there. Jenni sat in her bed clutching her pillow against her breasts, rocking, back and forth. Her hair matted, dripping with sweat, bangs glued to her forehead. The ends stuck against her back and chest. She sat staring at the light creeping from under her door. Waiting. Waiting for them to pass out. Waiting for her mom to cry herself to sleep, and her father to pass out on the couch, too drunk to make it back to the guest room.
Rocking for what seemed hours in the silence. A storm brewing in her brain. She waited until she heard nothing for a while, and waited longer. Finally she heard her mother snoring, then, and only then she knew they were asleep. Jenni leapt across the bed. Grabbing Peter’s old t-shirt off the floor, pulling it over her head as she turned the knob on her bedroom door pulling it slowly aside. Most of the lights were still on. She reached out and flipped off the switch in the hall. It went black. Creeping forward, she flipped off the one overhead in the living room. It went black too. She waited a minute for her eyes to adjust. The keys to the Cadillac lay on the coffee table where he had dropped them. Leaning over her father to see if he had any semblance of life. He was out. Jerking the keys up fast and light without causing a sound.
Jenni tiptoed to the kitchen, her fingers tightly wound round the keys. One last light, and then complete darkness. She considered the pool one last time. No, she needed to get the fuck away. Quietly pushing open the door to the carport, pushing back the screen door, she was free. Free.
Turning the ignition, the car started. Pulling the lever down, it slowly rolled backwards out of the driveway. Without hitting the brakes she let it slip from reverse, to neutral, and then to drive, letting it quietly idle forwards around the corner and out of sight. She wound from street to street, waiting to turn on the lights until she reached the highway.
The town was quiet. The streets empty. It was the dead of night. Pushing the accelerator to the floor, Jenni sunk back in the seat. Pushing all the window levers at once, the car was engulfed with heat billowing her hair in every direction. Just passed the town limits she cranked the stereo as loud as it would go and sank back into the leather. Wiping away tears that clouded her mind and sight, she headed south to the only place she knew where questions wouldn’t be asked, a little convenience store way out on the highway directly across from the trailer park.
Two floodlights lighting a small Flagstaff sign hanging off a tall rusted metal post marked the entrance. One long string of flickering florescent lights lit the front. The shell lot was empty except for the beat up old Chrysler hugging it’s far side. She whipped the car round in one giant s-curve, throwing up a plume of dust that hung in the air like a soft woolen blanket, bringing the Cadillac to rest near the back corner, in the dark.
She sat for a minute listening to a tune she liked on the radio while staring out at the highway. Not a soul in sight. Humming, wiping away tears, she cut the engine and the lights. Her world went silent.
Still wiping away tears, she climbed from the car, slamming the door shut behind her. Head hung down. Her bare feet fumbling over shells, her long golden locks shading her face from questioning eyes, and with the large v-necked shirt draping off one shoulder.
The florescent lights underneath the awning gave off a greenish hue causing her shirt to glow and her skin to radiate blue. Stepping past the big silver ice machine, she reached out for the glass door, pushing it open, the little bell hanging from the handle announced her entrance. The old black caretaker glancing up from his newspaper greeted her with a frown. You okay miss?
Ashamed and embarrassed, tugging on a sleeve to wipe away tears, her head hung forward, Jenni stared down at her dust covered feet. Yeah, she grunted back. His glare made her nervous. Afraid he would begin with too many questions she didn’t care to answer, bending her head sideways, she coughed. More as a release of tension, than really needing to. Marlboro Lights. And a lighter, she said in a garbled tone.
He stared at her for just a moment more shaking his head, before turning, pulling down the pack from the shelf. Turning back, placing them on the counter, then sliding a blue lighter on top.
With one move she grabbed the stack off the counter and vaulted for the door, her dirty bare feet slapping across the tiled floor.
The old man stood scratching his head as the door jingled shut. That girl was plum crazy, runnin around in nuthin but that ol’ dirty t-shirt. An she come from money. He knew the family. Hell, her daddy used to be the district attorney. He couldn’t tell is she’d been drinkin or not. She come from a drinkin family. He’d see her again. He’d get the money for the smokes. He always did. Tonight he saw something new in her he hadn’t seen before. Something troubling.
Opening the car door, flopping down. She sank back. What to do? Where to go? For the first time looking round. Nothing. Not a soul on the highway. Turning back, glaring at the lights from the store, her hands shaking, she tore open the pack, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, sucking in the first hard drag. It felt good in her lungs and across her brain. Exhaling, the billowing smoke flattened out across the windshield. She pulled in another. The nicotine began to clear away the cobwebs.
Turning, letting her feet rest on the riding board, she sat, her arms round her knees, peering off into the night. Depressed. Tears flooding her eyes. Wanting to get away, but realizing there wasn’t really any where to go.
She needed to escape. She wanted to get away, but there wasn’t really any where to go. She could go to Dallas and move in with her sister Carol who’d just left her cheatin husband. Naw, Carol’s only patch’er up and send her back home. She needed to get as far away from the as she possibly could. By the second cigarette it came to her. She’d have to figure out how to get her parents to send her away to school. She stood, closing the door behind her. Tossing the butt to the ground. She lit another. How would she do it. She had to do it. She wouldn’t survive if she didn’t.
She stood, climbing out of the seat, closing the door, and tossing the butt to the ground. She lit another. How would she do it. She had to do it. She wouldn’t survive if she didn’t. They’d end up driving her fucking batty. She’d have to figure out a way to get away from them. Right now she needed to relax, and stop replaying the night in her head. She knew if she went back home she wouldn’t sleep, so might as well hang out and let her mind begin to shut down.
Sticking the cigarette in her mouth, placing both hands on the hood of the car, she pushed up, her skin screeching across the metal as she slid back. She sat there, hair flowing off her shoulders, legs dangling, head arched forward, staring at the ground, simply comforted by her cigarette and the heat coming off the engine.
A car pulled in, stopping out front. She heard the car’s doors open and close. The sound of guys talking. The jingle of the bell. Good, they hadn’t seen her.
Some time later, the bell jingled again, the car doors opened, closed, the engine revved, the sound of rubber popping over shells, the car lights swiping through the dark, illuminating the rear of her car as it spun round racing for the highway. She looked up to see it’s red rear lights disappearing into the night. She could relax.
Some cigarettes later her head started to clear. Focusing not on her parents, instead on how quiet it was. No one had driven up to the store, it was just her and the night.
Off down the highway the first pair of lights she’d seen coming north came over a rise. They disappeared. Then reappeared closer. Shit. The car decelerated. The night was so peaceful. Pulling her legs under the shirt, knees up, pink painted toenails just over the edge, she stuck her face into the v-neck, exhaling. Hiding. She watched as the lights from the car accented the smoke as it encircled her legs as it pulled off the highway. The popping sound of rubber on shells caused her to jerk up.
At first she thought it would park out front as the last one did. It stopped, circled left, turning back right to pull in beside her.
The car slowed and came to a stop near the front of the store. With one motion, it backed, turned, and in one large circular motion to the end of the store nearest to her. Fuck. Fuck. Why the fuck. It’s brakes squeaked as it came to a stop. The engine raced, then went off. The stereo clicked silent. She could see him sitting there staring at her.
His door creaked opened. He stepped out. Peering through her bangs she watched as the tall gangly young man in his Army green t-shirt strode off towards the front. He turned his head only once to watch as she pulled her knees down sitting cross legged, the oversized shirt forming a tent around her body.
Army Rat. The town was full of them. Sometime she felt it existed for just their pleasure. The bell jingled as he went inside.
Her head sunk, resting once again on her knees. The store bell jingled. He’ll go away she told herself. Looking off at the highway, his steps coming closer jolted her round. Startled by her move he froze. You okay? The old guy inside was asking. She nodded with a blank stare. Pulling in another drag on the cigarette. Slowly blowing it out. He turned, took a step to his car, stopped. A left soldiers pivot. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d seen it.
Can I get a smoke? She stared at him for a second, not sure what to do, then with one move, she pushed the pack out at him, flicking her hair from off her face, exposing reddened tear stained eyes. He sauntered to her side, reached for the pack. Moving closer. Leaning back against the car beside her, pulling a cigarette out with his teeth, he passed it back.
Fuck. A light? He mumbled.
She glared straight ahead. Jutting the lighter out she flicked. He cupped his hands round the flame gazing up at her eyes. She turned and stared back. Now you can leave, she cursed under her breath. Handing back the pack, he stood exhaling, then with one quick move he slid himself atop the hood beside her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She turned, looking away from him. An embarrassed heat rising in her face. She was nervous and excited at the same time. She couldn’t explain it to herself. She was ready to bolt. Jump down off the car and get out of there, but she couldn’t make herself do it. She longed for some form of human interaction. Somebody. Anybody. If this was the only thing her night had to offer, then she’d accept it. He looked harmless enough. Frozen, she looked back round. His head lifted up, turning to look at her. They sat there, each one waiting on the other, and at the same time both nervous in each others silence.
There was something about him which calmed her fears. His mannerisms, the way he sat, not rigid, but relaxed. She didn’t really understand why. He just was.
Trembling, Jenni pulled a cigarette from the pack, putting it to her lips. Raising the lighter, she flicked. It didn’t light. Flicked again, but she couldn’t get it to work. He reached for the lighter, she recoiled, backing away from his outstretched hand. He moved slower. She looked blankly at his eyes. He beckoned for the lighter. She grudgingly passed it off to him. With one flick it lit. Her cheeks flush, hot, not only from the heat, but the feelings beginning to well up inside of her. She inhaled. For the first time he was able to see the contours of her face. He smiled. She smiled a short nervous one back.
She sat still for second staring down at his left hand. The tattoo just above his wrist. A rose. Not thinking, just reacting, she moved her hand over to touch it. He sat watching, silent, as she traced the petals. Suddenly, becoming conscious of what her hand was doing, she jerked it away, billowing warm smoke down through the v-neck and over her body.
He pulled the pint of Jack from his back pocket, twisted off it’s cap, took a gulp, reaching out, passing it to her. Startled, she stared him, then the bottle, and back to him. He nodded, gesturing again. Apprehensively reaching out, taking it, her mind blank, she moved it to her lips. The warmth of the bourbon tasted good.
They sat sharing the pint and cigarettes. Her body becoming less rigid. The heavy thoughts that burdened her mind began to fade. Cars passed on the highway. She pulled her legs from under the shirt, letting them dangle beside his. For the first time her thoughts weren’t on how awkward she felt. Or, on her parents and how to get the fuck away from them.
A car passed on the highway. She looked up as it disappeared south. Probably headed back to the base, he said. Their silence broken. Huh? Jenni said, focusing on him for the first time. The car. He pointed with his chin. Oh yeah, the car. Not really thinking about what she was saying. A nervous silence fell over their words once again. You from there? The base, I mean. She was sounding like a dork. Of course he came from the base. Yes, and no. Yes, I’m there now, and no I’m from New York.
She looked up at him and nodded, her eyes as blank as an owl’s gaze. He took that as a hint. She wasn’t in the mood for talking. Their awkward exchange turned to more uneasy silence between them. Determined to get her to relax, he decided to try again. You from here?
And nowhere else. Fuck, she said in her worst southwest Louisiana twang. You don’t have to bite the guys head off, she heard herself saying. You okay? Did I say something wrong? No… Her face flush, her head flustered, she glared at him. Silence. So, I’m gonna ask another stupid question, twisting round to face her. What brings a girl like you out to a place like this in the middle of the night? She looked down shaking her head. Fuck, fuck fuck. Like fire escaping a blast furnace he had managed to cast her blues away. All she could do was look up at him shaking her head with a small straight smile inching it’s way forward.
For the first time they shared some laughter. She turned, leaning back against the windshield, stretching out, her left arm behind her head, a thin stream of smoke escaping her lips up towards the black night sky. He smiled. He took notice of the way her shirt fell across her breasts. He scooted closer, touching her thigh, turning, handing the bottle back to her, his hand coming to rest between her legs. Her heart raced. The skin on the inside of her legs began to tingle, overcome with the sensation of his touch. All she could do to keep her nerves in check was to slam some bourbon. Her eyes watered, Jenni pulled her wrist across her eyes, wiping away tears, as she unwittingly stuck the bottle down between her legs, tight in to her crotch.
His hand glancing the inside of her thigh brought their gaze to each other. Startled, she stared. With a swift reaction, she gripped the pint bottle tight between her legs, trapping his hand in her vice. He tugged, trying to pull away. She gripped harder, smirking. He jerked up, pulling her legs up off the hood exposing her backside. She squealed as she lost balance, sliding down the front window on her back, loosening her grip on the bottle, and splashing bourbon on her silken triangle. With cat like reflex, he caught the bottle before any more poured out. Staring at each other hard, excited nerves, all they could do was billow out laughter.
Her shirt, translucent from the splashed bourbon, clung to her belly and chest. He couldn’t help but stare. Her breast, firm, round and plump, jutting straight out. Her nipples erect with excitement. She wound the bottom of her shirt around one hand and nervously dabbed at her silken triangle.
I knew it, he said chuckling. Knew what?, She said, dabbing tears of laughter from her eyes. You’re butt naked under that shirt. Am not, it’s just your imagination, she retorted with the voice of a surly little girl. If it is all in my imagination, then I can’t help but like what my imagination is seeing. He liked what he saw too. A firm, plump exterior atop her well conditioned muscular body.
Uneasy, fidgeting, and aroused, she pulled her legs back up under the wet shirt. It was a natural move , and she couldn’t help but belt out her exuberance. With one quick move she yelped, jerking the shirt up over her head, completely exposing her body, then quickly pulling it back down again. Leaning into each other, they belted out laughter, spitting raucous tears towards one another. Her tension was gone.
The night stayed hot. The bourbon had loosened her tongue and lessened her concerns towards him. They chatted. Small talk. Short, non-informational chats. She sharing her cigarettes, him sharing his bottle. So, you never did say what brought you out here? Parents. Ah. Y’runnin away from somethin bad? Not somethin I care to talk about just this minute. Any more left of that?, Jenni asked, pointing to the bottle. Some. He shook it to show what remained. She pushed out a hand. He passed the last of it to her. She poured it over her tongue, wiping the last drops off her lips with the back of her hand, then, turned the bottle on it’s end as the last drops fell towards the ground. Jenni twisted her head, puckered her lips, pouting at the loss, before handing the empty bottle back to him. He glanced down at the bottle and back at her.
One hell of a grip you have. Huh, she replied, looking up at him quizzing. Your legs?, He gestured with the bottle. Dance, Jenni replied. Great legs, terrible feet. Pointing with her head to her toes. Ouch, was all he could muster.
They sat quiet, him wanting to know more, but noticing through her gestures her unwillingness to talk.
I have to ask. What? Jenni replied, quickly glancing up at him. I have to ask, he continued. Why is it your only wearing that shirt? Aren’t you concerned? Afraid? Tilting her head, she looked quizzing towards his eyes. She nodded. She thought for a moment, but really couldn’t say why. She hadn’t thought about it. She’d only thought about getting out of the house as fast as she could. Her eyes went blank again, her thoughts were somewhere else.
I left in a hurry. Left? Left where? My house, she blurted without wanting to answer anything more. And besides it’s hot. Too hot. And, I hate ’em. Hate what? Clothes. Especially when its so hot. Do you think me bad to think of it that way? Bad? Yeah, bad. For me to not care if I’m dressed or not. But what about what other people think? There are laws against it you know? I know. You know what? About the laws, or about what others think. Both. And you’re not concerned? Can we just quit with the interrogation? I hate clothes. They’re costumes people wear to make themselves feel better than other people. (TBC)
Punctuation. Quotation marks. Anything. It’s incredibly difficult to read otherwise.