Authors: Julie Frayn
Amber nodded. “Yeah, we all are.”
August pulled the cash she’d earned the day before out of her back pocket and waved it at Amber. “Then I’ll go get us something. Will you stay with him?”
Amber stood. “Guy will. I’m coming with you.”
“No problem, I’ll babysit little Reese-man.” He tousled Reese’s hair. Reese didn’t stir. “I want pizza. Nothing weird on it.”
A few blocks away August walked with Amber along a quaint, but low-end, business district. Afternoon shoppers filled the sidewalks and after work bar-goers sipped happy-hour drinks on cramped patios.
“Sorry I was so bitchy earlier. It’s not your fault, you know. About Ricki.”
“It’s okay.”
Amber stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you all right? Yesterday kind of sucked.”
August looked at her feet. “I’ve fantasized about that moment. About losing it. But to someone I love. Someone wonderful.” She looked up at Amber. “That wasn’t it.”
Amber laughed and then stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. But honey, way to state the obvious.”
“When I close my eyes I see that creep’s face and I just want to throw up. How do you do it? How do you just have sex with people you don’t care about? With complete strangers?”
“You float away. You fake it. Eventually you’re just numb to it. Sex is never good, never something you want or enjoy.”
“Never? You’ve never had a boyfriend you cared about, never enjoyed sex with them?”
“Nope. Not even before I was hooking. Sometimes it felt nice enough, but it never meant anything. It was just a way to get what I needed.” Amber pulled out a newspaper cigarette and lit it. She took a drag and jerked her head up the sidewalk, then started walking. “What Reese needed was drugs. For me it was a big fuck-you to my mother and a temporary escape from my shitty life. Now it just is my shitty life.”
“There’s got to be a better way to live than that.”
“If you find one, let me know.”
August paused in front of a thrift shop, the window filled with brightly colored old pants and funky tops. She grabbed Amber’s hand, pulled her inside and headed to a rack of men’s clothes. She flipped through a few dozen hangers with jackets on them and pulled out a dark denim one.
“Do you think this will fit him? It’s just six bucks.”
“You’re buying it for him? Like a present?”
“Of course, his is ruined. The blood won’t come out.” She put on the coat and held her arms straight down. “What do you think?”
“Too big for you, too long in the arms. Should be just about right for the beanpole.”
“Let’s get Guy a shirt, too.”
“Man, you are one weird chick. Nice – but weird.” Amber touched one shirt. “Get him a dark one. He’d look good in navy or something. No more white, it gets so gross looking.”
“Let’s get him...” August flicked hangers aside, assessing each hand me down like a seasoned pro. “A green one.” She pulled out the shirt, held it up against her body and tossed back her head, striking a pose. The lime green shirt sported a cracked and faded iron-on unicorn prancing on a rainbow.
Amber’s laughter burst forth as unexpectedly as a newborn lamb’s first bleat.
“Oh, shit. Can’t you just imagine his face? Goes well with the dark, brooding eyes and mini-dreads.”
August put back the shirt and pulled out a black one with nothing on it. “Maybe this is more his style, huh?” She grinned at Amber. “And with black, blood stains don’t show.” She inspected the shirt for holes. “All in one piece.”
“Can we get out of here now and get some pizza before I pass out? I haven’t eaten anything except Twinkies for two freaking days.”
August paid for the clothes then pushed open the store’s grubby glass door and stepped into the late afternoon heat.
“Is there a market around?”
Amber looked at her sideways, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, a couple of blocks up. Why? You need flour and butter? Baking him cookies too?”
“No, silly. If we buy food there instead of getting pizza we can get more stuff for less money, make the cash last longer.” Was that her mother talking? She sounded just like her, all frugal and responsible. “Maybe not have to – you know – again so soon.”
“Huh. Fewer dates?” Amber eyed her with what could have been respect, or at least a little less scorn than earlier that day, and smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
In the market they wandered up and down the aisles, dropping granola bars and Pop Tarts, pastries and fresh fruit, juice boxes and chewing gum into a basket. On their way to the checkout they passed the deli counter where the inviting aroma of hot, greasy food grabbed them.
“Hey look. Pizza by the slice.” August did a quick tally, then put the Pop Tarts on a nearby shelf and approached the counter.
“Why’d you put those back? You’ve got enough for pizza too.
“Not if I buy you cigarettes.”
“You’d do that?”
She just smiled at Amber and turned to a lady with a net on her head. “Can we get four slices please? Pepperoni.”
Laden with grocery bags and chomping on peppermint gum, they moved up the block. Amber stopped in her tracks and stared past August into a storefront window.
“Uh, honey – isn’t that you?”
August wheeled around. Through the glass of an electronics repair shop, a TV broadcast the news. On the screen, behind the muted talking heads, was her school picture, “teen girl missing” emblazoned across the bottom.
Her body stiffened and her eyes darted in every direction. Every person on the street could see her. Someone would turn her in.
But people passed by without paying any attention. No one noticed. No one cared.
Amber took her hand and pulled her away from the store, then jay-walked across the street.
“Okay, you can breathe now.” Amber smirked. “God, it’s not like they could see you through the window or anything. But nice to know they’re looking for you, right?”
“I guess.” A yearning for the smell of pigs and her parents’ embrace snuck up on her. They loved her enough to look for her, that wasn’t a surprise. How would they feel if they knew what she’d done the day before?
“Nice dorky threads by the way. Was it hick day at school?”
August’s face warmed and she stared at her feet. “It’s always hick day at my school.” She looked at Amber. “Didn’t anyone search for you? Or for Reese?”
“Nah.” Amber pulled out the pack of cigarettes and opened them. “No one misses you when you’re invisible.”
They walked the rest of the way in complete silence.
*****
Guy and August helped Reese to sit up, then Guy patted his friend’s cheeks until he was aware enough to take a bite of pizza. Guy held a straw to Reese’s lips. He drained a box of juice in just a few gulps then fell back to the blanket and passed out again.
August handed Guy the rest of Reese’s slice.
He looked up at her, hesitated, and then took it. “Really? Don’t you want it?”
“No, I’m good. You go ahead.” Why did he look so confused? “Oh, and here.” She dug the shirt out of the thrift store bag and tossed it in his lap.
“You got me a shirt? Like, bought it for me?”
“Yeah. Yours is ruined. It’s the least I could do after you carried him everywhere. I couldn’t have done that.”
His brows knit and he cocked his head to one side. Then he broke out into a wide smile. He stripped off his bloody shirt, balled it up and tossed it aside, then pulled on the new one and looked down at himself. “Cool.”
When they finished the pizza, they cleaned and redressed Reese’s wounds like the doctor had instructed. Reese didn’t wake up or even stir when they took the tape off his skin and rubbed his cuts with alcohol wipes.
She covered his shoulders with his new jacket and kissed his forehead. They spent the rest of the evening just sitting there, eating strawberries and beef jerky and watching Reese sleep.
When dusk turned to night, Amber stood and stretched. “Are you ok if we go crash somewhere more comfortable? We’ll come back in the morning.”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks.” She smiled at them. “Both of you.”
Amber crouched and hugged August with one arm then winked before turning to leave.
Guy flashed a half-hearted peace sign, then he and Amber strolled away side-by-side.
August lay down next to Reese. She lifted his hand into hers, lacing her fingers through his, and stared past the bridge deck into space. She looked for some sign of celestial light in the sky. This was the kind of night she’d told Reese about that first day they met. The kind of night her family would lie out in the field and try to name the constellations, wish on shooting stars. Maybe they were doing that right at that moment. Without her. In the perfect darkness of a country night.
Damn the dock lights and electric glow from the city’s billion watts.
My darling August,
When I was a girl, all I wanted to do was break free. My parents were so strict. Their rule was I was not allowed to date until I was eighteen. I had to attend every church service, every event, every committee meeting, every picnic, every damn thing with them. You think I make you wear lame clothes? I’ll show you pictures that will curl your hair.
They had their eye on a boy in our church they wanted me to marry one day. I hated that boy. There really wasn’t anything wrong with him. I only hated him because it was what they wanted, with no thought to my own desires, my own dreams. I was not an extension of them. I was my own person. They didn’t see it. They didn’t see me.
They didn’t wake up until I was seventeen. The year after I met your father. I knew when I saw him he would set me free. I dated him behind their backs. When I left home, left their Mormon church to be with him – they saw me then. But they didn’t like what they saw. We didn’t speak for almost two years. Then slowly, inch by inch, we found middle ground. I’m happy for that. They are wonderful people. They just aren’t me, you know?
Of course you know. I am committing the same offense with you. When you are older, have children of your own, you may understand why. In my heart I feel I am being a good mother, guiding you through the dangers of growing up, giving you boundaries and responsibilities. But in doing that, I lost sight of who you are. That you are your own person, and not an extension of me.
I’m awake, August. I can see you now.
Please come home. I will always love you. I will never abandon you – no matter what.
Love, Mom
Caraleen slid the folded letter under August’s pillow. She patted the bear’s head and touched one finger to its nose. Then she crossed the darkened hallway to her room, lay down next to her husband and curled into his warm back.
Reese stirred and turned onto his side, opened his eyes a little at a time and reconnected with his world. August was there beside him, sound asleep atop their shared blanket. His jacket slipped from his shoulders and landed between them. He picked it up and went to lay it over her, but stopped and held it out for inspection instead. It felt different. It looked different. It wasn’t his.
He sat up, careful to not disturb her. His pulse throbbed in his ears and his mouth was full of sand. In the pre-dawn darkness, the clean white of the fresh bandages on his arm glowed in the dock lights. He ran his fingers over them then squeezed his wrist. Sharp pain raced up his forearm.
He pressed his palms to both temples. He had wandered the alleys, drinking a bottle of bourbon he’d stolen from an all-night market. He’d left her lying her
e
was that yesterday morning? He looked at the bandages again. Broken glass, slashing cuts, a sluice of blood, then cleansing, liberating pain flashed through his mind. He’d blown it. Again. How did he get back here?
August snorted in her sleep and rolled over, turning away from him.
She must have found him. Gotten him help, bandaged his wounds and brought him home. Brought him back. He picked up the jacket. Did she get this for him? Why would she do that? He was such a fuck-up. His life was a total disaster. He couldn’t even kill himself right. How many times had he tried?
He crept into the bush and grabbed his toothbrush and paste, then sneaked down to the river. He scrubbed his teeth and tongue. The brisk mint cleansed his mouth and cleared his head. He stripped off his clothes and washed in the freezing water, careful not to soak the bandages. Then he dressed, slipped back up to their spot, and slid onto the cardboard next to her feet.
He stared at her back, admired the delicate curve of her spine, the inviting angle of her hip. Her wonderfully messed-up hair. The outside was easy to appreciate, but what was going on in her head? She dated so he didn’t have to – sold her virginity for fuck’s sake. She took care of him when he tried to commit suicide, even though he’d left her behind. Abandoned her.
He picked up the jacket, stroked the clean, soft denim, folded it, and placed it in his lap. She bought him a gift. No one had ever bought him a gift before. Why couldn’t he read her mind, see her thoughts? Be inside of her head? See himself through her eyes? What did she see? Why did she care what happened to him? He just didn’t get it.
It’s not like he hadn’t had girls before. They came and they went and he didn’t give a rat’s ass. Every one of them was a short distraction, fast becoming an intrusion into his family. August was different. She never intruded. He wasn’t bored and doubted he ever would be. He longed to be close to her, take care of her, keep her safe. Hold her. Kiss her. He wanted to kiss her all day long. Christ, he’d only known her a few weeks. What the hell was wrong with him?
She shifted in her sleep, turned onto her back and breathed a deep sigh.
A rush of warmth flowed through his veins. He didn’t know what he felt, didn’t know why he felt it. But he knew how to show it. Would she be ready for that? Would she still want him at all after what she’d gone through? What he’d put her through? The fact that he even cared what she wanted was new to him.
He watched her sleep, listened to her breathe, and waited for her and the sun to rise. Between the cold water, the clean teeth, and his open heart, he was invigorated. Alive. Maybe for the first time.