PillowFace (17 page)

“Stop it.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“No, it’s not, and you know it.  You’re just spoon-feeding yourself all this bullshit because it’s easy to swallow.”

Grimacing, Haley pictured herself sitting at a table, shoving spoonfuls of shit into her mouth, wisps of grass clinging to it, small white mushrooms growing out the sides.  She felt a burning liquid rising in the back of her throat.  She needed to knock that image out of her head, and fast.  She quickly thought about the backroom of the Second Chance Book Store, straddling Alan in the chair.  The way he felt inside of her, hard and deep.  She could still feel him
,
ghost intercourses.  Though, the memory was great, it left her feeling empty inside, her chest heavy and tingly.  A lump had suddenly formed in her throat.  She wanted to be with him, again, and now.

“Now what’s bothering you?” 

“Just thinking about Alan,” she mumbled. 

“So, that means you miss him, and when you think about him, he makes you smile.”

Bitch. 

“Am I right?”

“Bitch,” she said. 

Laughing, Carlee held a hand out as if accepting an award.  “Thank you very much.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” 

“It means you should stop worrying so damn much. He understands that you lost your parents and are battling with how to raise a boy on the verge of being a man.”

“He’s got a few more years before he’s a man, Carlee.” 

“Not really.  I watch the talk shows, I read the magazines.  Kids are having sex so much earlier these days.  Can you believe they actually teach teenage girls that it’s just as fine to give oral sex as it is to give a goodnight kiss?” 

Why is she telling me this? 

Haley remembered seeing a book on that very subject in Alan’s store. It had sickened her. Not only that, when she’d expressed her dislike of it, he went on to tell her that it was one of his bestsellers.  “I have a hard time keeping it on the shelf,”
he’d said.  Teenage girls buying it, parents buying it
for
them!  That had bothered her.  It was one of those things that after she’d learned of it, she wished she hadn’t. 

Girls like Tonya get a book like that, and it’s all downhill. 

She realized Carlee was waiting for a reply.  “I was never that kind of girl growing up.”

“Me neither.” 

“What happened to you?” 

Carlee laughed, “Oh, you want to play that game?” 

“Not really.”

“I didn’t think so, Ms. Backroom bull rider.”  She threw her hand in the air, grinding her hips in the seat.  “Come on, ride it! 
Ride
it!” 

Laughing, Haley said, “It was like riding a damn bull, he was hung like one.” 

Carlee gasped.  “Really?  I had always assumed him to be an
average
kind of guy.” 

“Hardly.  And, he’s cut like a lion.” 

“Muscles?”  Her eyes widened, face beaming. 

“Plenty.” 

She whistled.  “Wish I would have gone at him first, that could have been me tonight.”

“Girl, I would have left you lying where I knocked you.” 

They laughed. 

Though, she couldn’t stop thinking about how embarrassing it was to go haywire like that in front of Alan, the ride back with Carlee had helped her to at least
feel
better. 

Then, like a dying light-bulb flickering off and on in a darkened room, an image of Joel popped into her mind.  It was fast, only briefly illuminated in the flash of light.  He was reaching out to her, covered in blood.  Then it was gone.  Her skin went prickly, her bow
els felt heavy. 

Where did that come from?
 

She suddenly wondered what he had been doing all night, and then wondered why it mattered.  Why all of a sudden? 
What if…
But, as soon as the thought had processed, Carlee began singing
Pokerface
by Lady Gaga, and she didn’t think about it again.  Too busy laughing at how terrible of a singer Carlee was.

The car’s headlights raked across the sign for Marble Lane, and she was relieved to almost be home. 

As Carlee drove and sang, Haley listened, but her attention was diverted out the window. The few houses in her neighborhood were dark. A couple of them had their front porch lights on, as if expecting someone to show up, while others had no lights on at all.  The rest of the strip had settled down for the night, probably had been sleeping long before Haley seduced a bookstore owner.  She wondered momentarily about Jonesey and where he’d ended up. 
Did he leave? 
She didn’t really care. 

“Haley,” he’d say, that disgusting smile on his face. “I’ll take you home.”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m going to ride with Carlee.” 

“It’s no problem.  I’ll take care of that, and you. I’ll dry those tears for you.” 

She shivered.
No thanks.
That was something she could do without.  It was his damn fault why this had happened in the first place.  If he wouldn’t have shown up, and then stalked her throughout the store, Alan would have never suggested they go into the back.  Then she would have never been in the situation, and wouldn’t have done what she did.  She was angry at Jonesey, yet thankful at the same time. 

Then she wondered about Alan. Why had he suggested they go into the back?  Couldn’t there have been other places to go? 
Maybe. 
Did he plan for this to happen? 
Maybe some of it, but not the flipping out on him part. 
She sighed.  No way of knowing for sure, but it seemed strange that each point of the night led them to that backroom, to that chair. 

To Alan inside of her. 

They passed Tonya’s house.  The place was lit up like a doughnut shop. 
Tonya must have let Clay Ray come over after all. 
She gazed through Carlee’s window, and sure enough spotted Ray’s car parked by the house. 

She’s going to get busted. 

In Haley’s driveway, Carlee parked the car, but left the engine idling.  “Want me to come in for a while?” 

“Thanks, but that’s all right.  It’s late enough already, and I imagine if you come in, a pot of coffee will be brewed, then we’ll get to talking about how much of a fool I am, and we’ll be up all night.”

“We
have
been up all night,” said Haley pointing at the digital clock.  “It’s going on four.” 

Haley frowned. “Great.  I’m going to be a peach to work with in the morning.”

“You and me, both. Poor Jonesey won’t know what hit him.”

“Good, maybe he’ll finally take the hint and fuck off.” 

“I doubt it,” said Carlee.  “Probably just make him try harder.” 

That was wishful thinking and she knew it.  No matter how rude or blunt she could be to him, he’d never stop. 
Might need to start looking for another job. 
Why was she bothering to work at all?  She had inherited half of the money.  After splitting it with Joel, her part was still large enough that she needn’t worry about working for several years. But, she’d kept the job regardless, working as if nothing had happened. 

Why?

It was too late in the night for such serious thoughts.
“All right, well, I guess I’ll see you at work.”

Carlee scratched her head, “Okay.  And, remember what I said.” 

A hand on the door-latch, she gathered her purse with the free one.  “Which part?” 

“All of it.” 

Smiling, “You bet.”

“I’m serious.”   

“We’ll see.” 

“You can tell me I was right when it falls into place.” 

“Or, wrong.” 

“Whichever.”  She yawned.  “Want me to pick you up in the morning?” 

“Nah, you’ll have to leave earlier to do that, get what rest you can.” 

“Okay.  I’ll bring some coffee.”

“You’re a doll.”

“Don’t I know it?”

They hugged, exchanged kisses on the cheek, and said their goodnights. Haley climbed out of the car and bumped the door shut with her hip. She threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked to the front door. As she dug for her keys, she noticed Carlee flashing her lights, so she waved at her one last time over her shoulder. 

Then Carlee was gone, leaving her to find her keys in the dark. 

Should’ve left the damn porch light on. 

Finding her keys, she flipped through the ring until locating the correct one for the front door. She unlocked it and went inside.

The house was just as dark inside as it was out, but it felt so much darker.
Up ahead, the stairs were a gray line that drifted up into total blackness. The white walls were oblique patterns all around her.  Joel hadn’t bothered to leave her a light on so she could find her way back to her room without breaking her neck. Oh well, didn’t really matter.  Her eyes were already adjusted, so she really didn’t need any. 

On her way to the stairs, her shoes
clacked loudly against the hardwood floor. Wincing, she stopped, leaned to the side, and raised a foot behind her to take off a shoe. When she placed her foot down, she stood uneven, and much shorter on the left side. Taking off the other one, she was level once again.  The floor felt cool under her warm feet.  She hung her purse on the banister, then slowly mounted the stairs.  She wanted to shower, but was too tired to fret with it tonight.  She’d wait until morning, plus, she might wake Joel up, and she didn’t want him knowing what time she’d snuck in.

At the top of the stairs, Haley turned, and slunk to her room.   Once inside, she quietly eased the door shut.  She walked to her bed, undressing along the way, and leaving a path of clothes behind her.  Naked, she climbed into bed, set the alarm clock, and the alert application on her phone.  She had three hours to get some sleep.    

She pulled the blankets over her, sheathing herself in them like a cocoon. 

While Haley drifted off to sleep, her brother’s
room sat empty and untouched, and next door, panic and all hell was breaking loose. 

(III)

“Still nothing,” said Ray, closing his cell-phone. 

Richard slapped his hands on the table.  “So, that’s that.” 

Sharon approached him from the side, set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then took the seat next to her husband. 

“Something’s happened.” Ray leaned against the island, his cell-phone in one hand, his other hand tugging at his Black Label Society t-shirt under his leather jacket.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Richard lifted the mug. Hot vapors of Hazelnut and caffeine coasted into his nostrils, licking his eyes.  “She may have just gone out with some friends.” 

“Not likely,” he said, nearly laughing. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket--which Richard thought was too warm for him to be wearing–and removed a pack of cigarettes. He was about to light one when Richard stopped him.

“Not in here, pal.” 

“Come on,” he said. 

Opening his mouth to repeat himself, but this time louder, he felt a gentle touch on his hand.  He glanced over and saw his wife, just as lovely as the day he’d met her, staring back at him behind her large blue eyes.  The same eyes that had persuaded him to do many things over the last twenty years that he never would have done on his own, crazy adventures such as skydiving, going to Mexico for an entire summer, letting his only daughter date scum like ‘Clay’ Ray Hanson.  And, much like those times, her eyes were just as successful this go round.  “Fine,” he said.  “Just this once, because I can see you’re worried about her.” 

“I am.” 

“And, why are you convinced that something’s amiss?”  That was the English Professor in him talking.  He doubted Ray even knew what a word like
amiss
meant. 

“Huh?” 

He was right.  “Why do you think something’s wrong?” 

“Oh, because, we were supposed to…get together…tonight.”

“Maybe she had other plans.” 

“No, she didn’t.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because, she sent me this about an hour before I was supposed to get here.” He flipped open his cell phone, and thumbed some buttons.  When he found what he was looking for, he passed it over to Richard.  He held it in such a way that Sharon could look over his shoulder and read it, too.  In a small, hardly legible font was a sentence;
Taking a shower, making myself pretty for you….
 

Seeing words this personal and written by his own daughter made him boil inside.  He could feel the back of his neck becoming hot and sweaty.  “She sent this to you?”

“Yep,” he answered through a cloud of smoke. 

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t put this phone down your throat.” 

Ray’s eyes bulged, obviously shocked.