Run (9 page)

There we were, back on the road. Back to the deviant lifestyle we were so accustomed to. I couldn’t help but think we got a glimpse of normal at Roger’s and I seemed to be the only one who cared about it.

I wanted normal.

I looked at Mason, he was asleep. Not a care in the world it seemed. His head pressed against the window, his long legs draped across my lap pinning me in place.

Aunt Wanda puffed on another cigarette, tuning out the world as the car sped down the highway making everything on the outside a blur. She didn’t care that Roger could’ve helped us. She was headed for her next insane adventure and the chaos she’d surely leave behind.

I knew if Payton had it her way she would’ve taken Mason and left. I knew she was angry for having to put up with us any longer.

“Virginia is for lovers,” Mason read as we passed a sign. Aunt Wanda huffed in revulsion at his statement. Mason tapped my leg, ready to get out of the car. It had been another long, unpleasant drive. I’d slept a lot in the days it took to make it to the next place.

I stretched my arms, trying to relieve my aches and pains from being crammed in the backseat for so long. I reclaimed the arm that Mason was using as his own personal pillow.

Virginia wasn’t appealing to me. The air was humid just like our last stop. I groaned, not wanting to deal with more heat and humidity. My mood was bordering on plain old pissed off.

“Look at the mountains,” Mason said, pointing out my window. I shrugged, not caring about mountains at this point. “I hear you can ski here.”

Payton twisted around in her seat to look at the two of us. “Mason, shut up. No one is excited about being in Virginia--get a clue.”

I raised an eyebrow at Mason waiting for his response. Payton was known for her snide comments, but this time it seemed different.

Aunt Wanda pulled the car into the parking lot of a small diner. Old and white. You could tell it had been around for quite some time. A couple cars sat in the parking lot, giving the impression that it may be a decent enough place to eat.

We headed inside for some food. My feet thanked me as I stood.

Mason was bouncing with energy. Payton looked ready to slap him a good one.

Aunt Wanda snagged a newspaper from the machine by the chairs. I knew what she was looking for. The same thing I would be looking for if I had the paper in my hand.

“How many?” the young waitress asked. Her hair was short. She was styled and manicured and all kinds of lovely. Her hair bright red, her makeup was beautiful, and she wore a tiny diamond stud in her nose.

She clutched her pad of paper, casually looking us over.

“Four and we will take a booth,” Aunt Wanda ordered, her nose pressed in the paper already. The girl watched Wanda closer now, probably annoyed with her rude behavior.

“Right this way, Ma’am,” she said softly. “My name is Renee and I will be your server. Can I get you something to drink for starters?”

Mason slid into the booth first. He smiled, surveying the menu, his free hand drumming the tabletop.

“Iced tea for me and give her a Coke,” he said. I looked at him, wondering why all the giddiness.

“Two coffees black,” Payton said, snatching the menu from the table with a huff.

Aunt Wanda said nothing. She just kept scanning through the newspaper. Payton and I both watched her closely, waiting for her to say something.

“She’s not going to find anything in that paper. It’s a Virginia paper,” Mason said, he chuckled throwing his arm around the back of the booth, his fingers grazing the back of my neck.

Payton stared at Mason. It was obvious she was doing her best to not scream and smack him upside the head. You could see her body tense with each breath she took. The more she stared at Mason and his cheerful demeanor, the angrier she became.

“I’ll tell you what you can do,” Payton said, looking around as she spoke. “Keep your mouth shut. These things go nationwide, dimwit.”

Aunt Wanda slammed the newspaper down on the table, the force sending the napkins fluttering to my lap. The paper was folded in half. She brought her long finger down and pointed out a spot with her red nail. We all closed in, silently trying to read all at once.

“God damn it,” Aunt Wanda grumbled, tossing the newspaper at the wall.

The waitress returned with our drinks. She smiled, oblivious to our problems.

“Enjoy. I’ll give you a few more minutes to look over the menu,” she said taking off.

“Looks like your theory has been proved wrong,” Aunt Wanda said to Mason. I grabbed the paper. I just wanted to know what was happening. Were we shit out of luck?

Scanning down the newspaper columns, I came to stop on a small article about unidentified suspects involved in the murder of a drug dealer and his criminal sons. The police were baffled by the murder of the neighbor and his girlfriend. At the end of the article it stated, plain as day, they believed the suspects were female and possibly involved in yet another crime the next state over. I knew what crime that was. I was frightened to see the link to the motel we had stayed in. Or how they believed the suspects were working with others now.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing that anyone who read this hated us and the evil, meaningless crimes we’d committed. They’d probably want us to face the worst possible punishment…maybe even the death penalty. I feared there’d be people hoping to run into us and serve up their own kind of vigilante justice.

Mason scooted my drink to me. I pushed it away, nearly knocking it over, and slid out of the booth. I headed for the bathroom, sick to my stomach and shaking uncontrollably, ready to collapse in distress.

I knew this lifestyle brought with it the anxiety of always being on the run, of constantly looking over your shoulder.  But I’d never read about it in the paper. And nobody around us ever figured it out. We were always one step ahead. I wondered what Aunt Wanda would do—she wasn’t one to give up without a fight.

I turned on the faucet and held my hands under the cold water—the cold numbing my fingertips. How I wish it’d numb the rest of my body. My lips and chin were trembling, fear was forcing the tears out. In an instant, my body stiffened and my fear turned into sobbing…my cries so loud they echoed off the bathroom walls.

I dropped to my knees. Roger’s image flashed through my mind; he could have helped me. He could have taken me away from all this, but I didn’t want to ruin his life with his family.

So instead of doing what I normally would, I respected Roger’s wife and Mason. I wanted to be good for Mason and hoped there could be something between us. Who was I kidding? What sort of sense did that make?

Mason was confused--he didn’t care about me. It was the idea of me and fixing me that he cared about.

The bathroom door opened. I jumped, standing up, trying to conceal my crying. The red-haired waitress looked concerned. She set her purse down on the sink and came to me.

“Why are you crying?” she asked, lifting my chin. She wiped my face with her hand, grabbing some paper towels from the dispenser.

“It’s nothing…please,” I said. I looked in the mirror…my face was covered with red blotches from crying and my hair was a mess. I blotted my nose with a paper towel.

“I can see there’s something. Please tell me, we’re probably about the same age. Maybe I can help you,” she pleaded, her expression sincere.

“Why would you want to do that? How did you become such a nice person?” I asked, as I tried to pull myself together.

“I believe I have my dad to thank for that. He was always a nice guy and he liked people. I guess he passed that on to me,” she said, with a smile.

“Well, I don’t have one of those. I have Wanda—my screwed up aunt--and a mother who never wanted to know me,” I said.

“Yeah…she seems pretty screwed up. I’ve waited tables here for five years and I’ve seen a lot of people. But I’ve never seen one quite like her,” she said.

I watched this girl and how calm and happy see seemed—no fidgeting or anxiousness. I so badly wanted what she had.

“She’s screwed up for sure.” I was biting at my bottom lip and wringing my hands. Every time someone showed me any kindness or concern, I just wanted to blurt out all that had gone down…confess to everything. My heart ached to have the comfort of knowing someone was there for me and could help me out of this mess.

So lost in my thoughts of wishing to be someone else in another place and time, I gasped at the sound of her voice when she spoke again.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I’m twenty,” I answered, staring up at the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with her. If she only knew what I’d been through.

“Why don’t you take off and spread your wings, girly. You’re old enough to do what you want. I took off at sixteen and now I’m right where I want and need to be. You could do that, too.”

She patted my hand in reassurance and gave me another one of her sweet smiles before she headed back to work.

I stood there for a minute thinking about what she’d said. I’d been given the same advice from different people recently and I wondered how those strangers knew what I was capable of when they didn’t even know me. 

When I came out of the bathroom, everyone was busy eating. Mason’s expression changed the instant he saw me. He patted the spot next to him for me to take a seat. Just as I expected a plate of pancakes with strawberries and eggs sat in my spot.

“You ok?” he said softly. Aunt Wanda shot me a look as well, waiting for a response.

“No, I’m not,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Aunt Wanda didn’t look away and she didn’t ask what was wrong. I’m sure she thought if she stared at me long enough she’d figure it out on her own.

I picked up my fork and stabbed at my pancakes, imagining they were Wanda. I knew it was obvious to everyone that I’d been crying.

Mason gave me a confused look and went back to eating.

“Virginia isn’t so bad,” Mason said, with a hint of amusement in his tone. I looked up at Wanda and Payton to see if they’d caught his sarcasm.

“It’s a shit hole,” Payton said, breaking her silence.

Mason leaned back in the booth, a big smirk on his face.

“Come on, we only have an hour,” Mason said, pacing the hotel room.

I lifted my head out from underneath the cover.  It had been two days since I’d gotten out of bed. Life didn’t feel worth living at the moment, so I saw no reason to get out of bed.

I always knew this would happen sooner or later. All I was doing was waiting…waiting for the ax to fall…waiting to be thrown into jail. I’d never felt so helpless or so discouraged. I had no answers and I didn’t know where to go to get them. The anxiety and paranoia had taken over my life, and I was facing an unknown fate.

Mason clapped his hands and ripped the covers off me. He wasn’t willing to deal with my depression any longer. Every time I felt the walls closing in on me, I fell into a dark despair, never sure if I’d come back up again. Mason chose to ignore it.

“Mason, I’m in no mood to see fireworks, I said, blowing my hair from my eyes.

He crawled into bed and curled up next to me. “Come on, Kendall. There’ll be a ton of people. We’ll just be another random face in the crowd. And look,” he said, jumping up and pulling sunglasses and hats off the dresser, “we’ll be incognito.”

“I don’t even like fireworks. You know this. I just want to sleep. Just stop it already,” I said, groaning, I dropped my head back down on the pillow.

“Fine, lay here in your misery and become one of them,” he yelled at me. His fists were balled up at his side like he was ready to hit something.

I ignored his show of aggression. “What, exactly, is one of them?”

Mason spun on his heels, throwing his hands in the air. He was so angry. “Those two women over there think they’ve got it all figured out and they’re ruining our lives.” He sat down on the bed. “They never find any enjoyment in life.”

“Well, of course not, it’s Payton and Wanda. They don’t enjoy anything,” I said. I sat up and pulled the covers off me.

“They’re going nowhere. They have no idea what they want. It’s an endless chase in pursuit of what? Wanda says it’s California. My mom wants to go overseas. It’s never happened, and it ain’t going to,” he said, tapping me on the leg.

“Don’t you see that, Kendall? They don’t care because they have nothing to lose. If I have something to live for I’ll make it,” he said.

I sighed. Mason had an uncanny way of spinning crap into golden rays of sunshine. He kept going on about how much fun we’d have and how much we needed this.

“I have to shower. So give me ten minutes,” I told him as he carried on.

“Let’s say fifteen,” he said, grabbing my wrist. He backed me into the bathroom, kissing me.

“Mason…” I said nothing further.  He pulled away and studied my face, waiting for my protest.

I sighed in compliance as I pulled his shirt over his curly mop of disheveled hair. 

“You really need a haircut.”

“Well, you see, I haven’t had time to do that with all the robberies and all.” He smiled, coming in for another kiss.

I ran my hands through his hair, pulling it away from his beautiful eyes, I tried to imagine what he’d look like with short hair.

“I guess I couldn’t see you any other way,” I said softly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I accept you with your wild Mexican fro,” I said, laughing.

“My father was Puerto Rican. And I get most of my looks from my mother.” He pushed at me playfully.

I wriggled out of my clothes. Reality came rushing back in place of our moment or two of frivolity. Mason sensed it, and opened the shower door for me.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he said, touching my shoulder.

“I know.”

“You’re the one good thing in the midst of this chaos,” he said, running his fingers through my hair. The water crashed down on my head. He shut the shower door, enclosing us in the steam.

“You keep telling me that,” I said, closing my eyes.

“Why can’t you just believe it?” he asked. I opened my eyes, water trailing down my face. Mason wiped it away. I could see how much it pained him to see me unhappy.

“I don’t know what to believe,” I sighed. “I just don’t know how.”

After our shower we hurried downtown to see the fireworks. Luckily we weren’t far from them. I tugged my hat lower on my head, my ponytail hitting the back of my neck.

Mason pulled me through the thick crowd of people. He was right, there were a ton of people. I held tight to his hand, my feet hesitant.

The crowd was so loud I couldn’t have said anything to him and be heard if I’d wanted to. The aroma of different foods and beer filled my senses. Hoots and hollers of random people enjoying the celebration filled my ears.

We settled in the middle of a large park where the fireworks display would be. Groups of people, both large and small, were everywhere. When we stopped walking, Mason threw an arm around me. I could tell it meant a lot to him that I’d agreed to come out with him.

He smiled at me. “Happy fourth of July,” he said. I just grinned back at him. It didn’t really feel like a holiday to me.

He stroked the back of my hand, as we stared at the sky, waiting for the magic to begin. Both young and old alike were gathered and waiting in anticipation of the magic the fireworks would bring. If only magic were real…

I leaned closer to Mason as more people gathered all around us. It was almost showtime and the sky was dark except for the streetlights lining the edge of the park.

“Hey, look over there,” Mason said.

He’d spotted a small hill off in the distance with hardly any people there. The crackling sound of the fireworks closer than I’d expected. We hurried over just in time to see the fireworks. Mason sat on the ground and I followed, sitting next to him. The lights bounced off my skin and the boom of the display filled my ears.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” someone asked from behind us. We turned around at the same time to see the sweet, red-haired waitress we’d met at the diner, along with a couple of her friends. Her face transformed into a pleasant smile as they got closer. I waved, trying to be friendly. Mason sat up, looking the three of them over. The guy in the group extended his hand to Mason.

The guy was covered in tattoos from his neck to his wrist. His lip was pierced and he sported a Mohawk.

“This is Trent and Star.” She introduced the two of them. Star smiled and gave a wave. Her hair was long and black, her skin honey brown. She had chocolate brown eyes and wore long dreadlocks that draped down her back, held in place with a simple red band.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey how’s it going?” Mason asked, offering them a spot next to us.

“I’m Renee.” Renee said jokingly. She took a seat next to Mason, along with Trent and Star. “I love the fourth. It’s great to be out for all the festivities.”

Mason and I listened as she went on and on about the day, how much it meant to her, and why it was just so amazing. Knowing she meant no harm, I held back the urge to roll my eyes.

“I try to convince Kendall to think of it the same way, but she isn’t one for the holidays,” Mason told them.

Star giggled and Trent pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He packed them with his palm as he listened to the conversation.

“I see you got away from your aunt for the night. That’s got to be freeing,” Renee said, nudging me in the side. There was a secret smile that only I understood.

“Yeah, my aunt doesn’t care for the holidays either,” I told her.

We laid in the grass smoking cigarettes and talking like kids our age do--about music, sports, or celebrity crushes. I’d never hung out with people my age other than Mason. I didn’t know I had an option on things like pop culture. I felt accepted and normal. Gloom and doom had taken a back seat at the moment to the lighthearted talk, back-and-forth banter, and feeling of kinship. I was lost in my thoughts when Mason pulled me from the ground to inform me everyone wanted to go back to Renee’s apartment downtown.

We walked the street at a snail’s pace stuck behind a massive crowd of people eager to get home. Mason kept a hand securely around my waist.

We listened to Renee go on and on about life. She was a girl with a lot on her mind—maybe too much. She thought way too much about the simplest things. Things that were black-and-white to me were multi-dimensional and nearly every color of the rainbow to her.

I tugged on Mason’s sleeve.

“What’s up?” he asked. We had stopped outside Renee’s apartment. I was having second thoughts about going inside.

“I have to admit I really don’t know if I want to hang out with everyone,” I said quietly. I shrugged and looked down at my shoes. Maybe it was nothing more than me feeling out of place--I never felt like I fit in anywhere.

“Kendall, come on.” Mason lifted my chin, his eyes searching mine, concerned with my apprehension. He was always so confident. “Let’s have some fun. How often do we get to do that?” He kissed my cheek.

I crossed my arms and agreed to go along with him. I didn’t want to be the party pooper. I followed everyone inside.

The apartment was large and too extravagant for a waitress’s salary.

Renee tossed her purse on the island countertop in the kitchen. She grabbed several cans of beer from the refrigerator setting them down one by one on the counter with a loud bang. 

She drew the blinds revealing a huge window overlooking the streets of the little Virginia town. She opened the beer in her hand and in one swift movement kicked off her black heels.

I stared out the window at the nightlife. I loved how the lights glistened like tiny diamonds against the black sky.

“Here, this one is for you,” Renee said handing me a beer. She forced it into my hand before I could object and skipped off to the kitchen. Mason shot me a sympathetic look. He was already caught up in drinking with Trent, Renee’s sidekick.

Star plucked away at the strings of an old guitar covered in stickers—peeling away with age--of old seventies rock bands.

“Come on, Kendall, my beautiful flower. Come sit with us,” Renee coaxed from the large red sectional. I took a seat and concentrated to settle my nerves. Mason sat down beside me and rested his hand in my lap for comfort. He knew this was hard for me.

Renee took another sip of her beer. She studied the room looking lost in a strange reverie. “What time do you think he’ll be back?” she asked Trent.

Trent jumped up as the door opened. Star continued to pluck at the chords of her guitar never fully playing a song. Renee jumped to her feet happy to see the guy who just arrived and came into the living room.

Mason and I immediately checked him out. He fidgeted with the pocket of his brown dickeys, shuffling across the floor in his skater shoes. His head was shaved and he was covered in tattoos.

“Guys, this is Shifty,” Renee said, wrapping an arm around him. He gave a small nod in our direction and his blues eyes lingered on me. He was clearly stoned—obviously into partying. Shifty didn’t sit well with me. I’d met enough of Aunt Wanda’s friends to know someone was bad news when I saw them. I’d gotten pretty good at reading people. These were the kind of people who would pretend to be your friends, but would stab you in the back when something better came along. This was especially true where addictions were concerned.

And his name—Shifty—was probably a nickname earned for bad character.  

Once Shifty got there, the night seemed to come alive. Everyone gathered around Renee’s coffee table where all eyes were glued on Shifty.

He pulled a bag from his shorts and tossed it on the table. Renee squealed with delight, clapping her hands together.

“Either of you ever do K?” Shifty asked, directing the question at Mason. Mason dropped his elbows on the coffee table and leaned forward to get a better look at the drugs.

“My cousin, back in Jersey, calls it Ket,” Mason said with a crooked grin.

He cut a fine line on the table with a credit card, shooting me a look as if I had something equally charming to add to the conversation. I pursed my lips.

“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins,” Mason told him. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to fit in or brag. I also knew he didn’t lie very often nor was he an angel.

Trent and Star waited patiently. I hadn’t pegged Star as a drug user. She gathered her hair in her hands and piled it on top of her head in a messy bun. She was ready—eager anticipation written all over her face.

“Well, since you’re the guest,” Shifty said, and motioned for Mason to go first. Renee handed Mason a rolled bill. Mason leaned forward and I closed my eyes at the sound of him snorting that junk.

I looked at Renee. She seemed happy that her new friend was willing to dabble in her recreational activities. Mason wiped at his nose and leaned back against the couch. Everyone looked at me now.

“Kendall, have you ever done K?” Shifty asked, searching my eyes for willingness. Mason grabbed my arm and nudged me forward. He wanted me to do it--they all did.

“No. I’ve never tried the stuff,” I said, my cheeks heated with naïve embarrassment. I should’ve been proud of that, but there I sat feeling like a moron.