Chapter 11
Eddie drove like a bat out of Hell and Chrissy held onto her seatbelt for dear life. She couldn't believe she was fleeing the cops with Eddie Munson– who was a total hunk, by the way!
Her head was still swimming from his presence hovering over her on his bed, his body domineering and commanding response from hers. Her thighs were still trembling, and her heart kept fluttering in her chest. She wondered if he would try to make that kind of move again but figured he wouldn't. Running from the cops wasn't exactly "setting the mood." She blushed harshly and looked down into her lap.
"You sure no one knew you were with me, Chrissy?" Eddie looked over at her, and she could see panic and fear in his eyes. He kept glancing into the rearview mirror for cop lights, even though none had seemed interested in the rusted chevy van that tore out of Forest Hills in such a hurry.
"Why would I tell anyone I was going on a drug deal with Eddie Munson?" She asked him sardonically.
He shot her a stern look, obviously not amused. "Chrissy, you're seventeen. You're technically a minor."
"So? I'll be eighteen in almost two months." She scowled. Her birthday was right after graduation. She had been counting down the days since she had turned seventeen, eagerly awaiting the days until she could legally leave home.
Eddie groaned then, a sound deep and primal, and cursed under his breath. Chrissy quivered and felt her thighs begin to warm. "About to be… Look, in the eyes of Uncle Sam, you're a kid, kid." He hung the van on a sharp left, turning down a dirt road that didn't seem to be there amidst the tree's edge.
They had been driving for a little over twenty minutes when the sun began to inch over the horizon, casting amber and ruby rays through the morning sky and dark shadows on the road from the towering trees surrounding either side of the street. Chrissy could hear the gravel of the unpaved road crunching underneath the van's tires, loud even with the windows rolled up. "Where are we going?" She asked, peering out her window curiously. "Do you have a house out here?"
They were close to Lover's Lake, and she felt her cheeks flush.
Eddie shook his head simply, and leaned forward into his steering wheel, paying attention to the road that had grown steep and winding. They were descending closer to the lake's edge, where old country homes were built.
Chrissy was reminded of the trips her mother would take her to Cape Cod and Lake Michigan. They would rent an exquisite log cabin, full of amenities and luxuries, unlike these lower income abodes where some were missing shingles, window shutters, or rattled loudly with old AC units. She could see crumbling boat ports behind some of the houses, only a few of them parked with old boatmobiles from the earlier decade, rusted and weathered with age.
The houses here were quaint, clearly lived in. Clearly enjoyed, but no longer offering luxurious enjoyment and leisure.
The porches were falling apart, with rotted wooden railings and crumbling stairways. Chrissy tried to think of her mother resting on one of the porches, swinging and enjoying the humid summer lake air.
She almost laughed. Yeah, right.
The memory of her mother made her uneasy. Would she be worried about Chrissy, calling Jenny's mom to find out why Chrissy wasn't home yet, ready to commit to their scheduled routine of Saturday errands and chores? In the silence, Chrissy's skin began to prickle and behind a passing tree, she thought she saw the flash of a gory face– melting skin and glaucous eyes watching her menacingly. But when she looked back, there was nothing there.
Chrissy shuddered.
"Hey Eddie…" She turned away from the window and looked over at Eddie.
"What?" He snapped. His eyes were wide and fearful, and his knuckles were white bones against the steering wheel that he sat so close to, it looked like he was hugging it.
She felt her hands grow clammy. He was upset. Was it with her? Chrissy dreaded the idea that she may have upset Eddie, and she could feel the doom begin to grow inside her.
Oh no, she thought. She didn't know what she would do if the hallucinations were coming back...
She looked at the dashboard. There was no radio installed– just a hollow gaping wound where the box should have been. "Y-you can't listen to music in your van?"
"Huh?" He looked at her like she had something funny on her face, a silly smile on his lips that said, "oh, sweetheart, don't be ridiculous." But what he actually said was, "Of course you can listen to music in my van. This is Eddie's van, Halen, after all, c'mon now." He scoffed incredulously, like he couldn't believe she had asked such a thing. "In the back," was all he said, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.
Chrissy looked in the back, where Eddie had thrown a bundled-up blanket when they had initially made their getaway. It was a large blanket wrapped up, holding Eddie's belongings, with clothes and mixtapes spilled around the edge of it.
She glanced at Eddie, and realizing he was far too focused on driving down the narrow, unpaved lakeside road, she removed her seatbelt and carefully began to make her way to the back.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Eddie shouted, as Chrissy's hip swung to hit Eddie's shoulder. "Careful! I'm not trying to throw Halen into the lake!" As she stumbled her way into the back, she heard him mutter with amusement dripping from his tone like liquid honey, "... ridiculous… Does Halen have music?"
Eddie hit a hard bump then and Chrissy felt herself go airborne for a brief moment before she fell hard into the metal floor of the van. She crawled the rest of the way to the bundle.
The wrapped blanket was full of clothes, mix tapes, and the big boombox from Eddie's bedroom. She also noticed a big, clunky walkie-talkie with its antennae drawn, flashing a small red light, and a small silver case. She left those alone and grabbed the stereo. It was big and boxy, with a large battery pack on the back of it.
She looked through the mixtapes. Their fiery red covers and busy icons were overwhelming, and she didn't know where to begin. "Uh," She looked towards the front of the van. "Can I just turn on the radio?"
"You're killing me, Chrissy!" Eddie shouted, gave his steering wheel a smack with the flats of his hands, and groaned. "Yeah, play whatever." He looked back at her then and expecting to see a look of regret or disdain, he was smiling. His dimples were showing, and Chrissy felt relief flood through her like a summer storm– sudden and so refreshing she felt she could cry.
She pressed the power button and quickly began turning the dial to her favorite radio station, WZPL 99.5.
Hearing a song she knew well, she squealed in giddiness.
Stacey Q's Two of Hearts was in full swing of its second verse:
"People get jealous cause we always stay together /
Yeah, baby /
I guess they really want a love like yours and mine /
Together, forever /
I never thought that I could ever be this happy /
Yeah, baby /
My prayers were answered, boy /
You came in the nick of time…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chrissy sang along, bumping happily in the back of Eddie's van, Halen, the fear and dread dissolving as soon as the sound of rhythm found its way to Chrissy's ears.
Chrissy sat with the boombox, switching between the pop stations in between commercial breaks, and was deep in the hook of Aha's Take On Me when the van slowed down to a stop and Eddie parked.
"We made it," Eddie breathed. He took a moment to remove his hair from its elastic and dragged his fingers through his tangled hair. With a loud "Alrighty!" he exited the van and made his way to the back door, swung it open wide, and held his hand out to Chrissy. "C'mon, princess. My buddy isn't home, but we can crash here. It should be safe."
"Take on me (take on me)..." The radio played as Chrissy placed her frail hand into Eddie's and let him escort her away from the van and into Reefer Rick's abandoned summer home.