Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Now it begins Part 19
I am pissed off at Sharon and Becky. They are sitting directly behind me in the van. I am also getting a little pissed off at Nick has now played the Jackson Browne album on repeat for the seventh time.
“Don’t we have anything else to listen to?” Sharon suddenly blurts out scaring Nick. I quickly turn around and Sharon makes a yucky face at me while Becky giggles.
“I want to punch her in her fucking face, I want to punch her in her fucking face” I think to myself.
“You owe me money,” I hiss under my breath and face Sharon. “What do I owe you money for?” Sharon asks a little too loudly. I can see Dave look in the rear view mirror at us. “You know!” I hiss again. “No, I don’t know!” Sharon hisses back in a perfect mimic of me. Becky giggles. “God, I hate Becky’s fat fucking face,” I think again. Dave’s eyes are not on the road but looking right at me in the rear view mirror.
In the back seat Danny has his knees pulled up and his cowboy hat low over his face. He is as cool as ever and reminds me of a cat taking a nap.
This freak caravan is headed for the woods. “Oh glorious days,” I say out loud to no one. “What did you say?” Sharon leans forward it her seat.
“Just so we are clear I bought you weed and you owe me money,” I say narrowing my eyes. “I am also not afraid of you and will not hesitate to kill you in your sleep.” I say all of this an inch from her face, my jaw is pinched shut and my teeth are clamped down. This is said without moving my mouth; I am like a crazed ventriloquist.
“God you need a breath mint,” Sharon says waving away the air in front of her and then turning back to a fat giggling Becky. I believe that my eyeballs are going to shoot out of my head and splatter on the windshield, I am now that mad.
“Anyone else need a smoke break?” I scream out. Dave’s eyes meet mine in the rear view and he eases the van onto the roadside. Jackson Browne is on repeat again.
Sliding across the seat I slide out the van door and grab my cigarettes. At this time I am smoking “More’s” which is a menthol ladies cigarette. They are long and thin and I am too cool as I stand on the side of the road. Sharon and Becky light up a Marlboro light each forcing Nick to cough. He waves the unseen smoke out of his face and pulls out his inhaler.
“Retard,” Becky mutters to Nick. “What if I was retarded, how would you feel?” Nick stammers. “Like I was a genius, clearly spotting you as a retard before you knew you were one.” Becky says purposely blowing smoke in Nick’s face. Stung Nick turns his face to hide his tears.
“Fat Bitch,” I mumble to Becky. Clearly not caring she walks away. Mike walks around the side of the van and slides up next to me. “What does Sharon owe you money for?” he asks trying to act like he’s my best friend. My initial response is to tell him that it was for an abortion but I push away the urge.
“Nothing,” I say kicking the dirt with my shoe and trying to walk away. “Seems like an awful lot of fighting for nothing,” he says feigning concern and placing an arm around my shoulder. I step away and take a drag of my cigarette. “She asked me to get her something, I did and she owes me money.”
“Uh-huh,” he says nodding his head. I am as vague as I need to be.
Dave nods like he understands and then yells “Ok, everyone breaks over, back in the van.” Becky knocks Nick out of the way and slides into the passenger seat. “Hey,” says Nick as the door slams in his face. Fat Becky gives Nick the finger. A silent tear rolls down his face.
The van pulls back onto the road and Becky puts Jackson Browne back on repeat. “God, I love this album, don’t you?” Becky says slowly turning to look at me. Sharon begins the kicking of my seat. I can feel the blood in my neck and my eyes start to pulse in rhythm with my heart. I am sure that blood and guts are going to fly everywhere when my head explodes.
Dave checks the rearview, Danny’s sleeping, Nick is quietly sobbing and Fat Bitch Becky is giving me the finger while crane faced Sharon is kicking, kicking, kicking my seat. I can hear a clock ticking somewhere and its getting louder and louder and……
“That’s it!” I scream. “Sharon and Becky bought weed from me and never paid me back!” With this new knowledge Dave slams on the breaks causing everyone to lurch forward in their seats. “What?” Dave screams. “What?” Dave screams again.
Sharon and Becky sit there with their mouths hanging open and their eyes wide. I am reminded of baby birds. Ugly fat crane faced baby birds.
Dave’s head begins to shake as if this information has put him in overload. Quietly and calmly he turns the van around and begins to head back from where we came. No one is speaking except for Nick. “Where are we going?” “I want to go into the woods,” he cries.
Dave not saying a word begins to drive faster and faster. Sharon coming out of shock begins to move her head back and forth. Danny cool as can be doesn’t move. Twenty minutes later Dave pulls the van over and uses a pay phone. “Don’t anyone move or talk while I am right over there,” he says motioning to the payphone.
The minute the door slams Sharon becomes a ventriloquist herself. “Dead, dead, you are so fucking dead.” She mutters never moving her mouth. “We are so screwed,” says Becky looking at Sharon. Ten minutes later Dave climbs back into the van and heads back in the direction of the house. He is not speaking so I know that we are dead.
Now no one in the van is speaking except Jackson Browne is singing. Two seconds later Becky ejects the cd and I see it fly past my window and bounce down the highway.
To be continued……..
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.