He took pity on me, putting me up in his bar…
Old Greg would be so angry if he knew I came back here, but I just couldn’t bear the thought of looking him in the eye after the way I’d left. He was so kind to me… Kinder than I ever deserved. Maybe I’d head out there in a few weeks once I’d settled in. He deserved an apology.
“You going to eat, or just sit there thinking?”
Mom had brought me a bowl of chips and some ranch dressing. I hadn’t so much as touched it since I’d come to the table.
“Go ahead and eat up,” Mom smiled. “After you’re done, go pretty yourself up, company’s coming.”
That pit came back into my stomach. I’d been worried about that all afternoon… it had been a festering feeling, eating away inside me.
But I knew better than to cross Mom.
She had taken me back in.
She had given me a roof, and food.
Well… I looked down at the plate. Some food.
“Hurry up in there,” mom shouted.
“Okay, Mom,” I answered, forcing a cheerful smile across my face.
“Thanks a ton, Hon,” she answered.
After that, I was left in the quiet.
The crunching of the chips shattered the silence with every crispy bite. Agonizing, piercing chomps controlled my attention, ringing out in the quiet like a rhythmic, mounting growl of danger.
When I was done, I set the dish in the sink and found Mom. She was sitting in a recliner, watching some old silent film on the living room TV.
“Over there,” she motioned with a wrist.
I followed her gesture and lifted a package off of an end table. It wasn’t particularly large or heavy, but it seemed ominous to me.
“Bring that over here.”
I did as I was told.
Mom raised her saggy arm, muted the television, and turned to face me.
“Open it up.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand? I got you a present.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond.
So I nodded, pulling the tape off the box and opening it up. Turning it over, a small orange bottle fell into my hand.
“See there? Momma’s gonna take care of you doll. I got you your medicine.”
I turned the bottle over, eyeing the little pink pills inside. I hadn’t seen these things in years.
“I know how anxious you get… The depression. All those panic attacks? You’ve been so high strung since you came back, dear.”
“I don’t like the way these things make me feel, mom. They make me a zombie.”
“I don’t want any back talk. We have company tonight and you’re going to be on your best behavior. You take two of those or you can get out,” she said, pointing toward the door.
Trent
The address wasn’t in Riverton – it was hours and hours away, another quiet spot called Point’s Hallow.
My cell signal was shit out here. When I finally arrived at the village, I accidentally crossed a small bridge and passed the entire place up, expecting to find it just beyond the next bend. It was only after fifteen minutes of nothingness, driving through trees and wilderness, that I realized I’d probably missed the place altogether.
Turning around in the fading light of day, I backtracked to the bridge. Standing guard at this side, apparently marking the edge of Point’s Hallow, was a seafood restaurant. With nothing else in sight, it commanded the eye from its perch, raised on stilts over the river. Painted along the side was the name: Jack’s.
Some landmark, I thought to myself.
Back across the bridge, I investigated. None of the roads were marked, making my job tougher than it needed to be. The population couldn’t have been any more than maybe eighty or a hundred people, judging by the sparse houses. Almost nobody was around, and I didn’t want to start banging on doorknobs…
The single person I saw wandering about, a woman in smeared overalls with ratty hair, looked at me suspiciously as I pulled up and flicked up my helmet visor.
“Is this Point’s Hallow?”
“Who’s askin’?”
“I’m looking for a girl. Name of Angel.”
“Angel?” She laughed, exposing a few missing teeth. This place was seriously in the sticks. “You must be a friend of hers!” She was suddenly suspicious again, eying me strangely. “Are you a friend of hers?”
“I am,” I confirmed confidently.
The woman peered at me a moment longer, and then nodded. “Good. Yeah, she’s here. Got back into town a few days ago. You know where to find her?”
“Willow Grove Drive,” I told her.
“Yep! That’s it, her and her parents…you know how to find it?, don’t’cha?”
“I’m from out of town,” I bluntly explained.
“Right,” she cackled, sizing me up on the motorcycle. “Might’ve noticed by now, they ain’t no street signs… No fancy gee pee usss for us folks in Point’s Hallow, we don’t need ‘em… anyway, here’s what you do…”
She rattled off directions, involving a handful of turns that apparently centered on particular trees and piles of scrap. “You got that?”
“I do. You’re really helping me out here.”
“Great. Tell ‘er that ‘Tricia said ‘hi!’”
“You’ve got it, ma’am,” I nodded.
She positively swooned as I kicked back into gear and drove towards the house.
Her parents.
Old Greg had said she was in danger. He’d spent a few minutes telling me what a piece of shit Angel’s stepfather Roger was before hurrying me down the road.
But maybe he wasn’t the only piece of shit in this town.
I paused, letting the engine rumble as it idled between my thighs.
My thoughts reflected back to what Old Greg had said. Sure, I’d known a lot of that myself, but it was easy for me to justify how I treated people. When someone else explained it, someone who barely knew me…it sent a shiver up my spine.
You take what you think belongs to you.
You don’t accept ‘no.’
You CAN’T accept ‘no.’
I shook my head.
This wasn’t my decision. It was hers.
I shuddered.
No. Extenuating circumstances.
My asshole of a manager sent her away. He filled her head with complete bullshit. She never would have left it I was there. I needed to let her know how I felt.
And if she didn’t want to come with me, I’d leave her… Once I knew she was safe and sound back at Old Greg’s bar, away from the danger.
With a heavy heart, I continued on my way. Tricia’s directions had been a little on the bizarre side, but she led me the right way. After a couple of turns, I spotted the silent tire swing, dangling from a tree in the front yard.
I remembered Old Greg’s words from before, when he’d given me the address: If you pass the tree with the old tire swing, you’ve gone too far.
A dirt road was to my side, heading into the trees. I turned onto it, driving as quietly as possible through the shadows until I saw it.
It was just as Old Greg had said.
The green house was in even worse shape than the Riverton bar. A window was busted out; the roof was caving in from a fallen branch. With the sun set and the shadows growing, the place looked like it had come straight out of a horror film.
Angel’s HERE?
My shaken confidence exploded into a blaze of conviction.
No, I thought to myself.
This isn’t good enough for her.
No matter what happens…
I killed the engine and kicked down the stand, parking next to an old truck on the edge of the street.
She deserves better than this.
And I’m gonna give it to her.
Every step I took towards the front door, my fresh insecurities burned away. With each heavy stride forward, my doubts, my fears, everything inside that told me that I
might not be good enough for her faded away.