Saturday, 6th August, 4 pm
It's two days later, and I'm still here by myself at Natalie's and Eyeball's while they're away. I don't know where they went or how long they'll be gone. Eyeball surprised Natalie with some 'mystery weekend' and spontaneously whisked her away. She was so excited - my God. I had to help her pack because she couldn't think straight.
Those two are so cute to watch. Whenever I see Natalie shyly slide her hand into his or clutch at his arm to walk along-side him, or when Eyeball engulfs her in his arms, his stocky shoulders shielding them from the world as he steals a private kiss - I can't help but coo and sigh. They don't seem to care about money or what anyone else thinks about them; they're just happy to have each other.
I'm jealous of what they have - I won't lie. Especially at the moment. Just a couple of weeks ago, I felt like Ace and I were growing so close, but suddenly, we feel so disconnected. We argue more than we sleep in the same bed. He's usually away out of town, or if he's home, he's up at all hours on the phone. I wish he could just drop everything for a couple of days and whisk me away somewhere - anywhere - and for it to be just us. But it won't happen. Ace is like a dog seeking the biggest, tastiest bone he can get his paws on. And I wonder, when he finally finds it, will it ever be enough?
Shit... the phone's ringing. My stomach's in knots...
It was Ace, as I thought it would be, and he's been looking everywhere for me, apparently. I mean, if I'm not at the garage and not home, there's only one place I'll be, right? Anyway, when the phone rang, I picked up the receiver and was welcomed by his raspy voice clouting my eardrum.
"Cass? I been looking everywhere for you. What the fuck are you doing there? How'd you get in?"
"It's... a long story. Listen, I really need to talk to you about something. Can you come?"
"What is it?"
"Not over the phone."
"I gotta meet these guys now."
"You got it then?"
"Yeah. I got it."
Bittersweet news, it was. It got us past a milestone, but I felt a little sick knowing what he did to get it.
"Stay there," he said. "I'll meet you after."
"You're meeting them in the Rock?"
"Yeah..."
"How about I come to you?"
"I don't want you there."
I slumped on my stool and started fidgeting with the telephone cord, wrapping the coil around my finger.
"Come on, baby," I pleaded. "I haven't seen you for days. I... miss you real bad. I wanna see you."
His raspy voice breathed heavily into the phone. "OK - meet me at Sukey's. You know where that is?"
"Sukey's Tavern? Yeah, I know it."
"I'll park the car out front. Wait in it. Don't come inside - got it?"
And then the phone went dead.
I guess I'd better go.
Saturday, 6th August, 11.30 pm
My hands are shaking so much, I can barely hold the pen. I'm up at the garage again, but I won't stay long. I just need a quick drink to numb the pain and calm my nerves. Ace would give me a verbal thrashing if he knew I was drinking his scotch, but I need something extra hard to get me through this.
Some say everything happens for a reason. Maybe they say that just to give us peace of mind. If we believe things were supposed to turn to shit, it helps us come to terms with it, right? Well, I hope it's true for my sake. I hope there is some greater purpose to me getting caught stealing that car and for things turning to shit even more than they already turned to shit tonight.
I'm about to walk back to Ace's, eight miles in the dark. Well, I'd be stupid to drive that car I stole anywhere near The Rock. The cops could be looking for it. Anyway, I don't have time to write; I need to go. The longer I delay going back, the worse things could develop. Let's hope that the next time I write in here won't be from a cell the cooler. Uhh... don't think like that. Just don't think like that.
Sunday 7th August, 2 am
Well, I'm not in a cell. Not yet, anyway. I'm at Natalie's again, feeling more alone than ever.
It's high time I updated this. Last time I wrote, I was about to leave Natalie's to meet Ace at Sukey's. That was yesterday afternoon, but it seems like days ago. God... the hellish night I've had.
All of my bikes were stored in Ace's garage at his house, and so I had to go on foot. By the time I got there, it was late evening and dusk. I only know Sukey's Tavern because it's right next to the cargo station where I've caught the train a million times. The two-story building stands on its own block of dirt looking rough and worn down. Faded yellow paint has peeled off the wooden boards, and there are cracks in some of the windows on the upper floors. I don't know why it's so uncared for, especially since it has some historical significance, apparently. I heard it was built in the 1880's to accommodate the lumberjacks and forestry workers who were the first to settle in the small town.
Although I had walked past it a thousand times, I had never set foot inside. And, when I arrived there, I fully intended to stick to that custom. I glanced through the windows of the building to see if I could catch a glimpse of Ace, but all I could see was a scattering of old men. Ace's car was parked in the parking lot, as promised, facing away from the door but not too far from it, and so, I hopped into the front seat and waited. And waited.
And waited.
All night long, men came and went through the tavern door. No women. I began to wonder if they were forbidden or something. Every time it opened, I would look at it expectantly, but it was never Ace. A mind-numbing three hours in, it was pitch-black, and I was still waiting. I supposed they had long contracts to read and sign because it was all legit, no fake names, and so there would be a lot of formalities. But three hours?
By 9 pm, I was extremely agitated. I paced beside the car and peered through the windows every now and then, but still, the only evidence of him being there was his car out front. What annoyed me most was, he knew I was there, so why couldn't he at least come out and let me know how long he would be? It seemed extremely inconsiderate. I imagined them all sitting around a whiskey laden table, having a great time celebrating and drinking up large over their success while I stood alone in the carpark losing my mind.
After nearly four hours, I was no longer at the car. I practically had my nose glued to the window. And I badly needed the bathroom. Now, I know Ace strictly told me not to set foot inside that building, but it was either that, or I would need to find a bush. Needless to say, a bush seemed a bit stupid considering I could see the female restroom sign from where I was standing.
I pushed the door open and it made the same, long creaking sound I had been hearing all night.
After relieving myself - and boy, was it ever a relief - I walked back out into the main room and took advantage of the moment to snoop around. With the smoky, dusty air, the country music playing softly in the background, the rough crimson-colored décor and bare wooden floorboards, I felt like I was standing in a western movie. I'm sure the lumberjacks and forestry workers back in 1880 sat in those very same crimson-colored seats.
I thought, being a forbidden woman and all, I would have all eyes on me, but not a single hat or head of hair moved to acknowledge me. The old men - none under 50 that I could see - continued drinking or playing cards or playing chess or just sitting as if they had nothing better to do than let time go by. I noticed a stairway leading up to the second floor and was curious to know if there were private rooms up there.
"Excuse me," I said across the bar to the barman. "What's up those stairs?"
At 18, I'm very used to being kicked out of places that serve alcohol, and I feared he would tell me what's what and send me straight back out the door. But the poor old guy had noticeable cataracts clouding both eyes – he could probably hardly see me. He sure knew his way around his bar though, and served up drink after drink like he was competing in some beer pouring competition.
"It's the lodging rooms," he said in a shaky old voice as he multitasked, pouring a beer from the tap and a few shots of whiskey at the same time.
"Oh. I don't suppose you've seen Ace Merrill in here tonight?"
"The Merrill kid? Ain't seen him. Sorry."
I just realized that I had asked a half-blind man if he'd seen someone... And it would have been rude to ask him how reliable he rated that information. I looked around the bar, deciding if I should ask someone else or resume losing my mind outside, when a familiar face that I never wanted to see again set eyes on me from two stools down.
"Wha'd you wan'?" he slurred. He was slouched over the bar with a mean glint in his reddened eyes.
"I'm waiting for someone."
Mr. Chambers spun around on his barstool, glass in hand, and sloppily spilt a small portion of whiskey across his lap. His eyes were glary and bloodshot, and he wobbled around on his stool like all sense of balance had left him. He looked one stage above being plastered and one stage below throwing up.
"You're lookin' for me. Tryin'a keep a watch on me! Fuckin' nosey social workers!"
"Now, that's no way to talk to a lady..."
The rough yet softly spoken voice that was suddenly at my shoulder sounded oddly familiar and yet not. When I looked at him, I had to do a double-take because I didn't believe my eyes the first time.
"Is this 'ere botherin' you, Miss?"
I stared at him in astonishment. His eyes were Ace's eyes. His mouth was Ace's mouth. He had Ace's staunch, my-shit-don't-stink saunter. The only thing he didn't have was Ace's youth. He may have had a couple of extra pounds of flesh to lug around with him, but he still kept himself well-groomed. His appearance was slick with his neatly cut greying hair perfectly combed back, and he wore a tidy button-up shirt rolled at the sleeves over casual jeans. I had heard that Ace's old man and his Uncle are in The Rock, and I was quite sure I knew which man this was.
"Do you talk, little darlin'?"
"Uh... everything's fine. There's been a misunderstanding, that's all."
"What's a pretty lil' thing like you doin' in 'ere? Not too often we're... graced with the presence of a lady in these parts."
Hearing such words come out of a face so much like Ace's made me chuckle. "I'm waiting for someone who I believe is your-"
"Bah, it's bullshit," Mr. Chambers interrupted. "She's in here to check on me. Well, for your inframasion, my good for nothin' wife's home for once. So, I can come 'n drink for however fucking long I like!"
"Hey, hold on a second now, Cal," Ace's father said, placing a firm hand on Mr. Chambers shoulder. "Let the lady speak."
"Well if she ain't no social worker then tell me what she was doin' snoopin' 'round my place the other week."
"I was looking for Eyeball."
"Oh, you're his girlfriend then?" Mr. Merrill asked.
"No, I believe I'm with... your son?"
Mr. Merrill's eyebrows rose and so did his Ace-like ears. "Well, I'll be! The names Junior," he said cordially, extending his hand out towards me. "And with whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"My name's Cassie."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Cassie," he said and gently shook my hand.
Cal scoffed at the gesture and turned back to the barman to demand another drink.
"My son should know better than to leave a lady waiting on her own. Why don't I keep you company? Willie, get us some drinks, will you, old boy?" He gave me a charming grin – one just like Ace could pull – and cordially extended an elbow.
"Uh... I don't think I should..."
"Nonsense. Come along now. I don't bite." I had my reservations because, well, Ace didn't seem to have a high opinion of him, however... I found him intriguing.
"OK... maybe just the one." I tentatively linked my arm in his, and he tipped his pretend hat and eagerly led me to a table in the far corner of the room, away from prying ears.
"Ignore Cal over there," Junior said. "He don't know what he's sayin'. The man's so angry with the world, he can't no longer see the good from the bad."
"Don't I know it? He has one of the most amazing kids in the world and treats him like dirt."
"Well, never known someone with such a high opinion of Richie Chambers."
I chuckled. "I meant Chris. But, that's not to say... I mean, there's a lot to see in Eyeball too."
"Oh... Chris. Well, all the kids feel their father's wrath. Ever since the older boy was put away. It ain't fair he plays favorites, but that's just the way it is and it ain't nobody's business to change that."
"I'd change it. Given the chance. My business or not."
"Well now, ain't that a pound of feist?" he grinned.
Willie, the barman, placed our drinks in front of us, and Junior handed him some cash to top up his tab. "Thanks old boy – keep 'em comin'."
After he went back to his bar, I asked Junior, "Just how much can he see?"
"Nothin' and everythin'," he laughed.
"Lucky for me, he can't tell I'm too young to be in here," I chuckled, and I took a sip of my drink.
"Why are you in here? Where's the boy?"
"I don't know. He was supposed to meet me, but Willie said he hadn't seen him."
"Could it be that he arrived before Willie started his shift at eight? His son's on during the daytime."
"But if that were true, where is he?"
Mr. Merrill leaned in close to me. "He ain't here for a lick'a business, is he?" he asked lowly.
"Uh..." I wasn't sure if I should answer that.
"It's OK. I know my son. He'll be upstairs. That's where all the dealin's done."
"Right."
"How long you been with him?" he said, stretching back in his seat again.
"I've known him a few months, I guess? The days go so fast I lose track."
"Well, just sitting here with you now, I can already see you're good for him. Some of the damn floozies he's picked up over the years – well, guess I can't say nothin'. The apple don't fall far from the tree." Junior took a sip from his beer bottle. I was surprised he'd ordered beer. I dunno why but, I'd expected him to ask for the hard stuff. "He told you much about me?"
"Erm..." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and cleared my throat. "A few things... I guess."
"Oh. Well, whatever he's said, it's probably true," he said with a conceding smirk. "But, like I said, the apple don't fall far. So, you keep a close eye on him. You've got a good, strong head on your shoulders, and Johnny needs someone like you to look out for him. Sometimes, we Merrill boys can forget what's good for 'em. We get caught up in chasin' things that don't matter and lose what does. Keep the boy in line - you hear me? If only I had someone do that for me back in the day, I'd be thankin' them now."
Mr. Merrill's words stunned me as they rang true in my ears like heavy church bells. Sometimes, we get caught up chasing things that don't matter.
"I'll keep it in mind," I murmured.
"You know," he said, gesturing at my whiskey, "I ain't had one of those in three years."
"Really?"
"I... met a new lady. And she changed me for the better. I married her, gave up the hard liquor, got a good well paying, honest job – she helped me turn myself around. And things have been just grand ever since."
"Wow, that's great. Good for you."
"Just wish I'd got it right the first time. Anyway, enough about me. So, how did Miss. Cassie come to find herself involved with a Merrill? Was it love at first sight?"
"Not exactly," I chucked. "Closer to the opposite."
"Oh, well, like I said - I think you're good for him." He raised his beer bottle. "To a good life and love."
I raised my glass and tapped it to his before downing the remainder of what was left.
"Speak of the devil..." Junior said, nodding over my shoulder at something, or rather, someone behind me.
My stomach fluttered, and not in a good way. I peered over my shoulder and saw Ace and Markus walking down the stairs from the upper floor. "Perfect," I huffed. I shrunk right down into my seat, my head seemingly trying to bury itself deep into my neck.
"Johnny boy!" Mr. Merrill said, rising from his seat. "Long time no see!"
Shut-up old man! I screamed inwardly. I mean, really? I sunk even lower and rubbed my forehead as if trying to hide my face. Hah - as if that would work.
"Here, take a load off!" Junior said eagerly, pulling out a third chair. "I'll get us another round of drinks."
I saw a familiar belt-buckle and the black jeans I washed on Wednesday arrive in the corner of my eye. I guiltily looked up at Ace towering over me, and the glower in his eyes was some indication that he wasn't keen on sitting down to spend time with me and his old man.
Ahh... one of my fave chapters. Writing Mr. Merrill was a lot of fun :D
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