Tanked: TANKED (19 page)

“Yep, even though it’s all on camera.”

****

Tank lied.  “Might ask some personal questions” was an understatement.  The nice lady turned out to be the department psychiatrist and grief counselor.  And I have to retell my entire story and we have to discuss every scratch and bruise and how I feel about each one of them.  I finally tell her I don’t want to talk about it anymore and, she can just take her pictures.  I want to be done; I want a shower and a quiet place. I really think she contemplates having me on some sort of watch because I’m in what she calls “denial” right now of what happened.  

I don’t think I’m in denial. I know exactly what happened.  Somebody you’re supposed to be able to trust with your life tried to kill me.  I have fingernail claw marks on my shoulder, bruises on my neck and screwed up hair to prove it.  How can I get people to understand I just want to be left alone?  Just for a few minutes, to have a little peace and quiet to be able to think.

When the psychiatrist says I can go, I open the door of the upstairs office and walk into the hallway.  I’m relieved when nobody seems to notice me; I fidget with my hair and begin my walk to the basement.  I walk by Tank’s office and peek in, finding it empty.  I feel my heart speed up when I step into the lobby. Cootie sitting on the chair staring at me flashes in my mind. I shake my head trying to clear that memory. I quickly leave, retreating downstairs to the basement.  My parents and Tank are sitting in the living room. I look around and don’t see anybody else.  My dad gets up and walks over to give me a hug. By the look on his face and everybody else’s I can tell they’re surprised when I don’t burst into tears again. 
Maybe I am in denial.

I peek over my daddy’s shoulder when I hear someone ask in a worried tone, “Down here?”

I see bright orange and grey tennis shoes, then bare calves with tattoos on them. When I see the jersey shorts I actually smile, I let go of my dad and turn to my mother, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.  I mean it momma. Thank you so much.”

My mother points in Tank’s direction. “Don’t thank me. It was all him.”

My eyes cut to Tank. I have to fight the urge to run over throw my arms around him and kiss him hard.  Instead I smile and I feel that feeling again and I know he does too.  I look back at Harry when he says, “McKinsey!” I tense up at first when he takes my appearance in, but thankfully pretends he doesn’t have a lot of questions about what’s going on. He goes right into his normal playful banter, “You know I love you, but do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to be picked up by a police officer from your own home. I almost had a heart attack. And they wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. You know how this town gossips.”

My heart does a somersault when I hear another sarcastic voice reply, “Yeah and I heard you’re moving to an even smaller town.  Good luck with staying out of the gossip there.”  I sheepishly smile at my best friend and I watch as his eyes look me up and down. When his eyes come back to my neck he gasps, “Oh, sunshine, what’d he do to you?”

That’s all it takes, I burst into tears and they stream down my face. “I’m alright, “I sob, “I’m just freaked out still, but look what he did to my hair. Nobody else cared and they let me walk around like this for hours and nobody said a word.”

With furrowed brows he looks at my hair, Harry interjects, “I’ve been trying to get you to get a stack bob forever, and it’s going to go great with your face.”

I nod, and wipe my tears.  I take my glasses off my face and dry them with my shirt.  Jessie gives me a hug and I ask “I—I thought you already left for work.”

“I had, Tank called and told me what happened.  I called work told them I had a family emergency and they said if I could be there by eight in the morning I could finish the training, otherwise I would have to start all over again.”

I quickly assure him, “You’ll be there by eight.”

Jessie grabs my hand and replies, “You got that right.  Now that I know you’re alright, I’ll be there.   I’m not going through that hell again of being away for so long.”

Harry grabs a chair out of the corner and asks, “Where are we doing this?”

“Here is fine. We can vacuum up any mess you make,” Tank answers.

I sit in the chair; Harry whips the black salon gown over me and begins trying to fix my hair. Jessie sits on the arm of the loveseat near me and holds my hand while he and Harry chat about his fiancé and moving.  Every time I look at Tank I notice he’s watching me.  I listen to the scissors snip, lost deep in my thoughts, and I can’t help but giggle when Harry turns on the clippers.  Prima sits up on her hind end in my daddy’s lap looking very concerned, trying to figure out what the strange noise is vibrating through the air.

Jessie smiles encouragingly as Harry uses a blow dryer to get all the little hairs off of me.  When he removes the gown Jessie pulls my hand for me to stand, “Come on, sunshine. Let’s go let you look at it.” I stand and glance around, my father is watching television. Tank gives me a thumbs up and my mother nods, and I hope they aren’t just being nice.

“Go look at it, I told you it would look great,” Harry says smugly. 

Jessie and I walk down the hall where he flips on the bathroom light.  At first I stare at the woman in the mirror not recognizing her at all.  I know it’s me but it’s so different. My long blonde hair is now to my chin. Tears cloud my eyes. “Sunshine, you look great.  I know it’s different but it really is awesome.”

“It doesn’t help cover my bruises.” I reach up and touch my hair then suck in a big breath. “You’re right, it does look good and it can grow back out; it’s just hair right?”

He leans against me then leans his head against mine, “Exactly, it’s just hair.  Besides you’re totally rocking the sexy librarian look with your glasses.” I roll my eyes but can’t help but to smile. “Oh and by the way, I’m not moving.”

I latch on to him as it’s the best news I’ve heard in a while. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You knew I’d never leave you. Besides momma and #2 said I could live at the house and look after it.”

“I’ll take you anyway I can get you.”

“Oh sunshine, always the drama queen.”

I pull back and look at him, “Really?” I ask sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes and pulls me by the hand, “Come on, let’s get back out there.”

Time passes too quickly. It’s time for Jessie to leave and I don’t want him to but he needs to go so he can get there and won’t have to worry about traffic in the morning.  Harry asks to ride with Jessie even though Tank offers to give him a ride, Harry’s quick response, “I have to get back to my apartment so I can finish packing,” It makes me wonder if he’s afraid he would have to ride in another patrol car.

Harry and I hug. “I promise we will see you again even if Jessie and I have to drive down to wherever you are moving.”

Harry happily responds, “Pollysdale. It’s a grain of salt on a map but I think I’m going to enjoy being the only hair salon in town. Let me know when you’re coming.  Besides you need to meet Felecia, and there’s a great place to eat burgers right there in town.”

“That sounds like a great idea. We’ll do that. Good luck with everything,” I say as we hug again. 

My parents stay a little while before it’s their turn to leave. They beg me to go stay with them but I am too exhausted. And I don’t want to try to pack my stuff and round up Prima and all her belongings.  I tell them I might come stay tomorrow night but I really hope I’ll able to go home and begin to try to get my life back to normal.  

Tank walks them upstairs and I slouch back on the couch, Prima quickly resumes her comfortable sleeping position in my lap.  I pet her lightly and talk to her, “You’re momma’s good kitty aren’t you.  It’s been a crazy couple of weeks and now I have no idea what’s next.  How do you go back to normal after all of this?”

I watch Tank as he walks back down the stairs and sits on the loveseat. We both enjoy the peace a minute then I quietly ask, “What’s next?”

He crosses his arms. “Well we’re going to start with tonight and tonight you’re going to get some sleep.  I’ve called Greg and told him you would be out of work for a couple of days.  He said for me to tell you that you had the week off with pay and that he’ll see you next Monday.”

“But—”

“McKinsey, there is no but. You’re running on pure adrenaline right now and when it hits you, it’s going to hit you hard.”

I’m not sure what to say about that. I don’t feel like I’m running on pure adrenaline. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.  I glance back down at Prima and pet her some more.  When I look back at Tank, he’s totally relaxed with his eyes closed so I stare at him for a long time.  His hair is disheveled, he has one arm resting on the arm rest and the other is by his side.  I pet Prima one more time then pick her up and sit her on the couch beside me. She meows, letting me know she doesn’t agree with my decision not to hold her anymore.  She stretches then jumps down off the couch and walks over to Tank then jumps up in his lap.  I can’t help but smile when he jumps.  She doesn’t seem to notice as she plops her fat butt down on his lap and begins to give herself a bath.  Tank eyes the cat then looks up at me. I shrug and say, “I’m going to go get a shower.”  He nods, never replying. 

I leave him and Prima in the living room and as I move I’m reminded my hair had been cut. It feels lighter and I can feel the air on my neck.  I go into my bedroom to grab my robe.  I smile and think of Jessie when I see the mound of blankets and pillows in the floor from our slumber party.  I hadn’t thought about it until now but I realize somebody must have put the cushions back on the couch.

When I arrive in the bathroom I try to avoid looking at myself in the mirror as I quickly undress but a few scratches on my upper arm catch my attention.  I start looking over my body to see if there is anything else that’s new and notice I have a bruise on the front of my arm that I don’t remember getting and one on the front of my thigh.  As I step back in front of the mirror, I slowly reach up and rub my neck.  You could almost make out the hand print from where he grabbed me.  I run my hand through my hair, tears begin to cloud my eyes and I push them back as I say out loud to myself, “You’re not going to cry anymore and you’re not going to feel sorry for yourself.  You lived, you survived.”   I immediately look away and step into the shower.

An hour and a half later I walk back into the hallway. I have taken my time, scrubbed myself twice from head to toe.  Shaved my legs and just stood under the warm flow of the water trying to wash any and all memories away.  When I make it to the living room, I cross my arms across my chest and watch Tank breathe in and out slowly.  Prima is now sprawled out on her back sleeping across his lap.  I grin when he lightly snores. I go back to my room and grab a blanket off the floor and put it across him.  I reach up and lightly touch his hair but he begins to move so I quickly snatch my hand away.  His head rolls over to the other side making his scar more noticeable.  I think about sitting on the loveseat beside him and snuggling next to him but I don’t. 
I just wish I knew how he felt about me and I wonder if he will ever be able to get over his wife dying. You can always see such sadness in his eyes.
  I back up, turn around and go back to my room.  I throw my glasses on my nightstand, crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

As I stretch and open my eyes, the room is dark. My heart jumps when I see a blurry figure of a man standing over me.  He doesn’t even flinch when I scream. He reaches down and wraps his hand around my throat.  I try to claw it away, I can’t breathe. I gasp for air, while kicking and trying to scream for help from Tank but no sound comes.  I can’t see his face, but I instantly recognize his voice and it echoes in my head, “I’m not dead.” Tears roll down from my eyes as his face finally comes into focus. He is back and this time he’s going to kill me. I start swinging and my hand hurts when I feel it connect with his jaw.  He yells, “McKinsey stop!” but I don’t.  He isn’t going to get me again.   I feel myself being pinned to the bed. I begin to panic even more, afraid he’s going to try to rape me.  I try bucking him off. My head pounding, I need air. I need to get loose, and I need to be free.  I feel a gentle shake and when he speaks again this time it’s a calm voice, “McKinsey breathe, open your eyes, and breathe, it’s me.  Tank.”  My eyes fly open, I suck in a huge breath of air and my throat burns.  I can’t stop my tears. Those had been real. I see it’s Tank holding my arms.  “It was a dream,” he whispers.   I weep harder. He let go of my arms and I pull one up over my face.  I feel the weight of his body leave me and the bed moves as he sits beside me.  I move my arm and roll over toward him and curl into a little ball. 

“He said he wasn’t dead,” I murmur through my snotty nose.

He reaches out and begin rubbing my head, brushing my hair out of my face, “I swear to you, he is very much dead.  I’ve seen the body. I’ve seen the paperwork with his time of death.  He’s dead.”

“He choked me, I couldn’t breathe.”

“Shhh. It was just a dream,” he says as he continues to rub my head.

“I know, but it was so real.”

“You need to try to get some more sleep. You’re exhausted.”

“There’s no way I’m not going back to sleep after that. I’m afraid to close my eyes,” I say as I reach up touching the hand that’s rubbing my head.