If Misery Loves Company

Chapter 5

Descent

By Kristen Gupton-Williams

It wasn't until about nine o'clock that night when I was able to get my sorry ass off of my bed. I went into the kitchen, feeling like all the life was gone out of me. My head hurt like I'd never known, and I was still sick to my stomach. After my little bitch crying fit, I was thirsty as hell and so I got to making a cup of tea.

Drink in hand, I went out and landed on my couch, staring out the window and at the damn rocket. I wondered if it was just going to fall over at some point, since it surely looked like it might. Maybe, I thought, only half joking, it would fall on me and put me out of my misery.

I'd never felt even remotely suicidal before in my life and the fact that I was, at that moment, actually thinking of such a thing scared me. I got up after finishing my tea and went into the kitchen.

I did the only thing that I could, and I picked up the phone.

It rang four times before it was answered. "Highwind residence."

I swallowed hard. I'd hoped that my momma would have answered instead of the admiral, but that wasn't the case. "Momma there?"

My father openly scoffed at me. "Launch fail so you come callin' for your momma? You fuckin' pansy ass."

"Can I just talk to 'er, Sir?" I asked, my father's open dislike for me sliding off my back for the moment.

He set the phone down hard on the table and I heard him yell for her. A few minutes later, the phone was picked back up. "Junior?"

Upon hearing her voice, I felt the burn of tears in my eyes again. "Momma…"

"Oh baby, I heard about the launch. Are you okay?" she asked, like a mother would.

"Yeah… physically, I'm okay. Pride's shot to Hell, though."

"We've watched the news today, Junior. They say that one of your engineers is to blame?" I heard her moving around, and I envisioned her walking out onto the porch to talk to me out of earshot of the admiral.

I nodded despite being on the phone. "Yeah, it was Shera… she fucked it all up by bein' in the engine room…"

"Shera?" Momma grew quiet for a moment. I'll admit, I'd mentioned her a time or two to my mother. After all, she is my mother. "Isn't that the one that you…"

I rubbed at my aching eyes with my right hand. "Yeah, she's the one I'd taken a likin' to… That's over and done with now, though."

"What was her reason for being in the rocket still, though, Junior?" There was a creaking in the background and I knew she was sitting on the porch swing.

"She was chasin' shadows with some fuckin' oxygen tank… Shera'd been fixated on them from the outset even though there wasn't nothin' wrong with 'em. She fucked me over for nothin'." Goddamnit if the tears didn't start again.

"I know you are a lot smarter than me, Junior, but…" she sighed, "…are you sure that she wasn't right?"

I tensed my jaw and thought for a moment. "I reviewed those plans myself, Momma. Ain't nothin' wrong with them tanks."

"Even the best of us miss things sometimes, Junior. Why don't you talk to her?" she asked quietly.

"No… I… I can't deal with her, Momma." I leaned against the kitchen sink. My heart hurt just thinking about approaching Shera. The possibility that she could have been right just wasn't something I could even consider.

"Well, give it a few days and then just think about it. You might just find out something, okay?" I could tell from the way she said those words that there was a smile on her face.

She was the only one other than Shera that ever smiled when she talked to me…

Why, Shera? Why the fuck?

"I'll think about it, Momma." I just closed my eyes, trying to steel myself. I didn't want to break down again. I'd cried enough.

"All right. Well, I need to go. Your father needs me." I heard her go back into the house. "I love you, baby. Call me soon, okay?"

"I will. Love ya, bye." With that, I hung up and tossed the phone back onto the counter.

Even though I'd spoken with my mother and it had brought me out of my state a little, I still didn't feel like it was a good idea for me to be alone for the time being. I grabbed my coat and headed out. I walked down to the bar, since it was one of the few places open.

When I walked in the door, the place fell deathly silent, and everyone turned to look at me. I hated it. They wanted answers, and I just didn't have any for them that were worth a damn. I took up my usual spot at the bar and Mike came over.

"Captain?" he asked, leaning toward me.

"I don't wanna talk, guy. Just… keep a drink in my hand. The usual," I said back quietly.

He seemed to understand well enough, and soon there was a whiskey sour in my grip and a burning in my throat. Luckily, I seemed to be putting off enough of the 'stay the fuck away from me' vibe that no one dared to ask me about the launch.

That was lucky for them.

It was even better for me.

I drank. I drank for hours, until I was completely numb.

When two in the morning rolled around, I got up, paid my tab and staggered out of the bar. I didn't get too far before I had to stop and lean against a building to steady myself. As I stood there, trying to get a grip of reality, I heard someone come up behind me.

"Well, if it isn't 'Failure to Launch' Highwind…" came a woman's voice behind me.

My blood instantly ran cold. I knew exactly who it was. "Go the fuck away…"

"No…" Soon, she stepped around in front of me.

I lifted my head as best I could to look at her. As I had already guessed, it was Dana…

Fuckin' Dana.

I'd known her casually most of my life, we were the same age and had lived in Rocket all along. She was pretty, sure, red hair, blue eyes, but she wasn't very attractive on the inside. Besides, everyone in town knew that she was a hooker, hence why she was still out despite the hour.

I'm not gonna lie, I'd gone home with her once, when I was just nineteen, before she'd gone 'pro', as it were. I'd been drunk that night, very drunk, and even though I'd had the intent of fucking her senseless way back then, my body wasn't into it and what would have been my first sexual encounter had ended in humiliation. Now, here, in what was yet another horrible moment in my life, Dana reappeared just to taunt me.

She's like some Goddamned 'after the fact' omen of failure… I really don't fuckin' need this right now… go away.

I was too fucked up to really say anything to her, not to mention embarrassed at the obvious connotation of my new nickname.

"Why is it that every time something really good is right there in front of you, you blow it?" she asked, taking a step closer.

"Shaddup…" I slurred out, trying my best to stand up straight, but instantly needing to brace myself against the wall again.

"Looks like you're too limp to do anything, even run away…"

I want to say right here and now that I ain't never hit a woman in all my years. NEVER.

But that was as close as I ever got.

All the frustration, pain, and embarrassment, both past and present, found its way through the booze in my blood. I felt my lips pull back and I finally found the strength to get to my full height, and I glared down into her spiteful face. "Look, bitch, why don't you just get the fuck away from me before I kill ya!"

"Kill me?" She laughed openly. "You're too drunk to do shit! Besides, the second you tried to touch, me you'd come unglued. You can't handle women!"

I clenched my fist at me side, ready to strike her down.

Something absolutely evil flashed behind her eyes. "…oh…. Let's see, it could be one of two things. Either it's that you Highwind's are such fucking hicks that you can only screw girls you're related to or your just some big closet queer!"

Cid… walk away…

My left hand was tensed up so tight that I could have driven it through a brick wall at that point. She'd hit two real bad nerves with that. One, I didn't like the implications of my family being incestuous, nor was I gay in any way, shape or form. Not even close. "I swear to fuckin' God, Dana…"

"Or what? You couldn't get your cock up eight years ago, and you couldn't get that rocket up today!" she said, her vicious laugh cracking out from her. "You're worthless!"

"You bitch!" Something within me snapped. I swung with my left arm, but pivoting where I stood so that my fist missed her by just a few inches and smashed into the wood siding of the building I had been leaning on, shattering the board I struck.

In her surprise, she tripped backward, thanks to those hooker stilettos that she always wore, landing hard on her ass. Dana looked up at me, that mean and taunting expression suddenly gone, and replaced with something else.

Abject fear.

That's right, you slut!

I pulled my bleeding hand away from the wall and let it just hang at my side, as I narrowed my eyes and looked down at her. "Listen up, you fuckin' whore. I'm sick of you and your little fuckin' barbs. I've gotten nothin' from grief from you since we were Goddamned kids and I've had it. You ever talk to me again, Dana, and it won't be the fuckin' wall that I deck, you got me?"

You'd never hit a woman. I think you've proven that, Cid. Hollow threats. You'll never be like the admiral.

She pushed herself backward a short distance before getting back to her feet. I could see the return of her contempt for me and an insult burning on her lips. Dana held her tongue, though, when her eyes saw the pool of blood that was now on the ground at my left side from my hand.

Apparently, the point had sunk into her damn head.

"Fine, Cid…" She kept walking backward away from me.

"That's Captain Highwind to you," I shot back, pointing at her with my right hand.

"Fine… Goodnight, Captain Highwind," she spat back before finally turning and running off into the night.

It wasn't until then that I looked at my hand, seeing that I'd busted my knuckles against the wall but good. Luckily, I was still completely blitzed and I couldn't feel much, but I knew it was gonna hurt like all hell come morning.

I had enough of a rush going thanks to my rage over Dana, that I was able to walk at that point without staggering too much. Inevitably, I passed by Shera's apartment complex. I was on the opposite of the street from it, and I could see that white piece of shit she calls a car sitting out front. From the looks of it, someone had come by already and flattened her tires.

I sighed to myself and had a cigarette as I stood there for a moment, realizing that the light in her place was still on. I knew that she was going to catch hell from everyone in town about what had happened, and I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that it hurt to think of that. The best thing, I supposed, would be for her to pack up her shit and leave… leave for good.

That thought hurt me, too.

I cursed myself inwardly as I finished my cigarette and tossed it out into the street. Even though my dream of space flight had been snatched from me, I still… I still felt something for Shera. There was a part of me that couldn't hate her.

How can you still think you love her after what happened? No, I don't love her, it's just… pity. Just stupid pity.

However, I hated myself for the both of us, and I started back toward my house again.

All I could do was hope that I'd poured enough alcohol down my throat to knock my ass out, and I went to bed.

It worked.