Bitter

A short story

Wayne knew it was time. The light was almost out of her eyes; he’d had this one for three weeks and had used her hard. He glanced into the mirror pointed at the RV cabin and examined the girl’s listless body on the bed. Her brown legs no longer instinctively curled into the fetal position while sleeping. She’d given up. He returned his gaze to the highway as he blew cigarette smoke out his cracked window. The pulsing white dashes of the road, steady glow of the yellow fog-line, and rumbling hum of the engine steadied his nerves. It would all be over soon.

            He used to be able to keep them for months before dispatching them. Things were escalating. He didn’t like this part. He liked the hunt, the acquisition, the first days of using them. With each plea and injury, the excitement diminished. Once the fight was gone and their lifeforce remained only in the form of a feeble pulse, it was time to end it. He put it off as long as he could; this was the dangerous part.

            He was always chasing the good part. He put that off as long as he could too, but his periods of control diminished quickly now. The right subject always put herself in his path, looking like destiny. Years ago, he would let some of them go, oblivious to their fortune. These days, he gave in every time, telling himself she would be the last, or he would at least wait longer. The road rumbled on.

Lucy drifted through liminal spaces, never knowing where she was or when she was. Was this a dream? Or was this? She could sometimes hear her mother calling her. It sounded so real – how could it not be real? The gentle shake of the moving RV was her only respite. While she knew she was getting further from home, at least he wasn’t on her. Fighting wasn’t an option anymore; her strength was gone and his only seemed to increase. She thought he was drugging her, but she didn’t fight that anymore either. She welcomed the release from the pain, if only for a little while. She realized in a severed moment between sleep and wakefulness that she’d stopped praying for rescue. She stared at the slits of black sky peeking through the miniblinds that were always, always closed. A tear slipped out of her left eye, trickled across the bridge of her nose, and slid into the right. Please, she silently begged the unformed universe she hadn’t yet named, please. She couldn’t finish her prayer.  

            She heard a loud explosion and felt her body lurch toward the right, then slide forwards. Toiletries in the bathroom fell in the shower, and the cupboard above her flew open, releasing a cascade of linens stored there. The RV came to a halt.

Wayne slammed his fists against the steering wheel; his rage shuddered out of his body in a guttural scream. A flat tire was going to alter his timeline, and the timeline had a mind of its own. The new-moon midnight stretched out across the prairie and revealed nothing to him. No oncoming headlights, no side roads in the distance, no wide shoulders to limp the RV toward. He cut his headlights and the engine. Blackness and silence roared back at him. He screamed again and punched the hazard lights.

            Snatching off his seatbelt, he yanked the keys from the ignition and swiveled around toward the cabin. He went through his checklist. Driver and passenger doors locked. Blackout curtain secured around the seats. Blinds and vents tightly closed. Gun loaded and in his shoulder holster beneath his jacket. He stormed toward the girl and pounced on her back.

            “Wake up! I have to change the tire. Don’t move or make a sound. There’s nobody around for miles. Nobody will hear you, believe you, or help you. If I see the blinds move, if I so much as hear you breathe loudly, I’ll kill you and bring your body to your mother, then I’ll kill her too. Do. Not. Test me. Understand?”

His breath was hot and foul, his weight crushed her ribs, his knee dug into the back of her thigh – she understood. She knew his threats to be promises. Lucy nodded.

Wayne exited the RV, locking the door behind him, then sidled along the passenger side to the storage bay where he kept the spare. He found three road flares, walked several feet, then paused to look back at the RV. He studied the back window for any sign of movement. There was no traffic, but the highway thrummed in constant vibration. Hearing nothing else, he trotted two hundred feet and lit the first flare.  

            He was on high alert as he walked back, every sense electrified and aware. He subconsciously held his breath as he watched the RV, wide-eyed and unblinking. He lit the final flare and continued his walking scrutiny, hyper-attuned to any sign of the girl trying to flee.

The glow of the lit road flares obscured the approaching lights, but the illusion only lasted a second. Wayne, his expression casual and friendly, turned to see a highway patrol vehicle slowing and stopping. Just coming home from a camping trip, got a flat, just my luck! At least it’s a nice night. Oh, I’ve done this so many times I could do it in my sleep, but I also never turn down help. Sure, I have my registration and insurance info right here. Yes sir, I am armed, but I have a permit. Shoulder harness, left shoulder, you can grab it if you want.

Lucy saw the pulsing red and blue through her eyelids before she heard the crunching tires pulling up outside. Her eyes flew open. Adrenaline sent bolts of lightning through her brutalized body. Help is here!

            Instead, she held her breath. All of her muscles were tense as stone in frozen stillness. Her hands clenched, they formed fists pressed to her lips and cheeks. Be quiet! He’ll get Momma if you aren’t quiet!

            She listened to the good-natured chatter between her tormentor and savior, struggling to hear the words, her eyes widening as if that would help. She exhaled measured and silent breaths, trying to imagine where they were. The officer had a slow, deliberate way of speaking, low-toned with a friendly round feel to it. The RV jostled as the jack lifted it up and the tire was changed. To Lucy’s horror, she heard the officer’s steps retreating much sooner than she expected. Hot tears spilled from her eyes, wetting the knuckles still pressed to her cheeks.  

            Wayne took his time putting his tools away and made a show of stretching his back before walking to the driver’s side door and unlocking the vehicle. He waited for the highway patrolman to pass; they smiled and tipped their hats. “Good girl,” he said as he pulled out his cell phone and opened the Costco app. His spare tire would not make it to where he needed to go.

            The next morning, after dropping the flat tire off at Costco to have the new one put on the rim, Wayne drove to a nearby church parking lot to wait. Church people were usually trusting, whereas school and community center people were not. Staying at Costco was out of the question – it was far too crowded for his comfort. The church was a huge complex with several buildings, but it was Monday, so the parking lot was deserted. He backed into a spot near what he guessed was the gym. He got out of the RV and walked up and down the sidewalk, checking for security cameras, signs, or other parking lot entry points. Finding none of these eased his anxiety.

A vending machine was up against the wall behind his rig with an outdated Coke slogan: Life tastes good. “It’s always tasted bitter to me,” he muttered when he realized it was another one of those machines that only took cards, which he tried to avoid using. He would have liked a bottle, but he would have to get one later. He climbed back into the RV. From this vantage point, he could see anyone arrive in the parking lot through his windshield. He sat at the dinette and smoked while he did a crossword puzzle.

            Lucy angled herself in the bed so she could see what he was doing through half-closed eyes. Today his energy felt different--charged somehow, like a thunderstorm looming. His left knee was bouncing erratically, subtly jiggling the entire vehicle. Each draw on his cigarette seemed impatient and needy, each exhale a sudden cloudburst. After scribbling a word in his book, he’d peer at his watch, look around, sigh, then run his hand through his hair.

            Wayne jumped at the vibration of the text message. His tire was ready. He stabbed out his cigarette and shifted to the driver’s seat. Buckling his seatbelt, he was startled to see a van slowly approaching from his right, then coming to a stop in front of his cab. Kim’s Kleening, a magnetic sign read. A woman, presumably Kim, jumped out of her vehicle and walked up to his window. Wayne rolled it down a few inches.

            “Howdy! Hate to bother you, but do you mind moving your rig? This space is closest to the door – I have to unload my cleaning stuff.”

            “Sure, I was just leaving anyway,” Wayne said, and without thinking, he put the transmission into reverse so he could navigate around her van, backed up, and immediately struck the vending machine he’d already forgotten about. “God damn it!” He cursed, hitting the heels of his hands on the steering wheel. Kim’s eyes widened at his outburst. “Sorry, it’s been a day,” he offered in explanation, and adjusted his facial expression to friendly contrition. He rolled his window up, turned off the engine, and jumped out of the cab to assess the damage, directing a pointed glance back at the girl.

            Kim was already on the phone. “Hey Don, it’s Kim from Kim’s Kleening. Someone hit your machine at Christ the Redeemer. You might want to come exchange info with him.” Wayne examined the shattered glass and leaking soda covering the ground. He ran his hands through his hair, wanting to scream.

            “The owner is on his way – he’ll be here soon. He’s at the grocery store around the corner, shouldn’t take long.”

            “As I said, I was just leaving. I have an appointment I’m late for. Can I give you my information to pass along?”

            “No can do,” Kim replied. “It’s his machine and I’m not sure how he’ll want to handle things. I am just the cleaning lady. If it’s any consolation, this happens more often than you’d think.”

            It was no consolation to Wayne. “Alright, I’ll just wait then.” He hopped into the cab, thinking that Kim would do likewise. She didn’t. Wayne watched her shove her hand in her coat pocket to retrieve her cell, shift her weight to one leg, then just stand there looking down at her phone. He rolled down his window again.

            “Do you mind pulling forward a bit?”

            Kim looked up and took in Wayne’s expression for a long moment, then looked at her van. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just leave it there until you exchange information with Don.”

            “I was just hoping to be ready to go so I can leave shortly after he gets here,” Wayne explained, taking care to keep his expression friendly. “I’m late.”

            “Even so,” she said, turning away, then looked back at her phone. He noticed her put it up to her ear as he rolled his window back up, resigned to waiting.  

            Lucy’s heart was beating so hard, she was sure it was audible. This might be my chance. Her pulse thickened and pounded at the base of her throat; she counted to four on each inhale and exhale in an effort to keep her breathing steady.

            “Don’t get ideas,” Wayne turned his head away from the window and whispered back to Lucy. “You know what I’ll do.”

            “He’s trying to leave,” Kim said into her phone. “I know it’s private property, but you probably ought to send a squad car just to make sure he exchanges info.”

            Don steered his work truck into the parking lot and pulled it into a space on the passenger side of the RV, leaving a space in between the two vehicles. He got out and walked to his machine to survey the damage, snapping a few photos for his insurance company, including the RV’s license plate and bumper damage. Approaching the driver’s side of the RV, he knocked on the window, startling the driver who had been looking at his cell phone.

            “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said as Wayne rolled the window down. “I’m Don, I own the machine you tagged. You got it pretty good. I am going to have to haul that off the property. Who knows how long it will take to get fixed.”

            Wayne rolled his window back up, pulled the keys from the ignition, and hopped out of the cab, casually locking the door on his way. “I am sure that will be inconvenient for you. Sorry about that – any interest in handling this with cash?” Wayne reached for his wallet, but Don shook his head.

            “Not a chance. I’m not sure what I’m looking at for lost product and lost business use. I’ll just need to get your insurance information.”

            Lucy was sitting up on the bed, every nerve in her body tingling. She was watching out the windshield, unable to see the man and the woman outside, but could hear their voices. Her breath caught – a cop car had just arrived. This IS my chance! She carefully slid off the end of the bed and eased into the dinette, watching as the officer joined the others.

            “I have it right here,” Wayne said, then saw the cop. He froze. Things were slipping out of his control. Everything moved in slow motion. He turned to the RV and…

            …Lucy yanked the string for the blinds, unlocked the window, and shoved it wide open. Summoning all of her breath, she screamed as loudly as her tiny broken body would allow. All the horror of the last three weeks raged from her lungs. “Help me! Help me! Help me!” She bolted from the bench, hurled herself at the door, throwing the deadbolt and lock switches, and charged outside. Barefoot and wearing only a t-shirt, she threw herself crying and screaming into the arms of Kim, nearly knocking her over.

            The girl had fooled him. “Life tastes good,” Wayne whispered, pulling the gun from his holster. He put the barrel in his mouth. It was bitter.

Photo by Pierre Jeanneret on Unsplash