If Misery Loves Company

Chapter 7

Storm

By Kristen Gupton-Williams

That night, I laid awake, trying to figure out my own mind. See, when you go on a week long bender or better, as the case may have been, your brain gets kind of all fucked up. Simply put, it hadn't been made to work since the launch, and it was protesting its reinstatement into thought.

Shera. What are ya gonna do, Cid?

"Take care of 'er…" I replied to my ceiling in the darkness.

How?

"I ain't thought of that yet…"

Just go fuckin' get her!

"Maybe she don't want me to."

But you saw it! She wrote that she loves you!

"She could have just meant that she loved me." I rolled onto my side.

Still, she's out there in that car, and she needs help. Go get her!

"I know Shera. Even if she didn't want to fuckin' deal with me anymore, she would still go with me back here because she isn't capable of being rude and sayin' no. I can't go get 'er." I closed my eyes. "Shera… when and if she's ready, Shera'll come to me. In the meanwhile, she'll have my help, but she won't know it."

She's not safe out there, Cid!

"She will be. I'm gonna see to it." With that, I pulled the second pillow over and covered my head with it, knowing that it was pointless to try and drown out an inner dialogue, but still…

Go check on her again.

"Why won't you let me fuckin' sleep?"

The mini mart is open twenty-four hours. You're low on cigarettes. Go get some.

"For the fuckin' love of Christ on a stick!!!" I threw the pillow across the room and ripped the sheet and blanket off of me. Annoyed at myself, I got out of bed, pulled back on my fatigues and a shirt, got my boots on, and left the fucking house.

I marched straight to the store and walked in. The clerk knew me well enough and instinctively reached back and pulled a pack of Winstons down from the case and set them on the counter.

I reached into my coat pocket to pull out a five to cover the cigs, my hand instantly finding a new and unopened pack still in that pocket.

Fuckin' son of a bitch!

Well, I paid for the new pack anyway and stuffed it into my other pocket, not willing to have made the entire three in the morning trip for nothing.

Across the street from the service station market was Shera's car. I lit up and strolled over toward it slowly, trying to look as though I just happened to be passing by. Once I got close enough, I looked in, seeing that she was still in the driver's seat, where she'd been when I'd covered her back window several hours before. I watched for a moment, to reassure myself that she was breathing, and then went back home again.

I gave up trying to sleep, since I couldn't shut my Goddamned mind off to save my life. I had a cup of tea and then sat on my front porch, watching the sun come up a few hours later. I spent a large portion of the day debating about how I was going to make ends meet. I'd kicked around the idea of a charter flight business before, and thought it would probably be the simplest thing to do to get the bills paid.

I went to the bank a little later on to check my accounts and see what I had going for me. There wasn't much, but there was enough to get my plane tuned up and in shape for what I intended. As I left the bank, I ran into the attendant from the gas station.

I chatted with the guy for a few moments, discussing briefly how the area did need some sort of flight service. He, in turn, volunteered that he'd been letting Shera use the bathroom at the station. At least she had that going for her. But, he said she never really said anything, nor did she complain about her situation.

I thought about that on the way home, and it was kind of scary. I mean, most people that threaten suicide don't make any sort of attempt to hide how unhappy they are because they really do want help. I'd come to appreciate that it was the ones that weren't vocal about it that usually did themselves in. I hoped that those sleeping pills were the only way that she's thought of ending her life, but I didn't really know.

Part of me wondered if she wanted any help after all?

Too damn bad, she's gettin' it anyway.

I returned home, made her another sandwich when it got to be night. With that and another soda, I headed out, going to the bar first. Mike seemed a little surprised to see me, but when I just ordered a single beer instead of hard liquor, he knew that I was all right.

I sat there and took a good hour to finish that beer, wanting to make sure that it got late enough that Shera would be asleep before I tried to drop off her ration.

When I figured it was late enough, I made the walk to her car, sneaking up to it like I was really getting away with something. Inside, she was out like a light and once again, I got that window down and the sandwich and soda inside. I also pulled out a twenty from my wallet, figuring that she could probably use the cash for other supplies.

I walked a short distance down the sidewalk and then had a few cigarettes, my eyes still focused on her car. I think, deep down, I was sort of hoping that she'd wake up and notice my presence, but she didn't. After my fifth cigarette, I surrendered to the fact I really was tired and went home and into bed.

My exhaustion got the better of me and I was finally able to get some sleep.

I didn't get up until well into the afternoon the next day. I did the usual stuff—took a shower, had some tea and a bite to eat, and then just waited for nightfall.

Once more, I made a damn sandwich and got a soda. Those in hand, I headed out to the bar, needing to do something to pass the time.

At the bar, Mike had an old John Wayne movie marathon running on the television. I had a few beers and watched my old favorites, suddenly realizing that it was after midnight.

A little annoyed at myself for completely losing track of time, I got up and left the bar. It was raining like all hell outside, and I was soaked within just a few paces.

When I got onto the street where Shera's car was, I couldn't help but noticed that the driver's side door was open. I froze for a moment, wondering what in the hell was going on, until something clicked and even though it was dark, damn dark, I knew something real bad was going on. With an instant adrenaline rush, I started to run like hell to the car. There was a guy half way in it, trying to do something to Shera.

I dropped the soda and closed the remaining space between the car and I. He was so absorbed in what he was doing, and thanks to the noise of the rain on the car, he never knew I was there. I grabbed his legs and pulled for all I was worth, dragging him out of the car and off of Shera. All I really wanted to do was to make sure that she was all right, but I knew that this ass wipe needed to be dealt with first.

Dazed from being pulled out of the car and having slammed his head into the ground, her attacker didn't get up right away. That gave me the chance to get down on his back and grab his head. I pulled it up, seeing that it was Gregory. His forehead had been cut pretty badly during his impact with the asphalt, and blood was running into his eyes and I'm pretty sure he never knew who it was that kicked his ass that night.

He did, however, seem to pull himself out of his daze and he managed a surprising move, turning beneath me and then managing to toss me into the side of the car.

I scrambled to my feet, and he did, too. That's when I caught sight of the knife in his hand for the first time. He slashed wildly toward me, and being backed up against the side of the vehicle as I was, there was no chance for me to evade the attack. I was cut across my chest. As his arm went by, though, I was able to grab his wrist, twisting it to the side and making him drop the blade. Having disarmed him, I kicked him where it count, causing him to bend forward. As he bent, though, I gave a good uppercut, knocking him cold.

With him momentarily not a concern, I turned my attention to Shera. She was unconscious, sprawled across the front seat. I was sick to my stomach as I felt her neck, making sure that she was alive, and carefully got her back into the driver's seat. I looked her over as best I could in the darkness, but I was relatively sure that she hadn't been cut or stabbed. I studied her face for a moment, it being the first time I had ever seen her without her glasses on. There was an expression of fear there, and by the way she was clamping her eyes shut, I realized that she was honestly conscious, just not willing to let me know.

She's so Goddamned pretty…

In my coat pocket, I still had that sandwich and I tossed it over onto the passenger seat. I wanted to take her home, I did so damn bad but I knew that I had to wait until she asked, otherwise…

Otherwise, I didn't know what.

I draped the coat she slept with over her and then closed the door. The rain hadn't let up and I noticed that Gregory was still out like a light. If nothing else, I knew I had to get him out of there.

I grabbed one of his legs and began to drag him. His dumpy little house wasn't that far away, and I pulled him mercilessly, face down along the street. When I got him to his house, I kicked open his front door and yanked him within.

He must have been incredibly drunk before I ever fought him for his sorry ass to still be unconscious after that walk home. I got him into the center of his living room and noticed the bloody streak that had been left along the floor behind me. I kicked him over onto his back seeing that not only was his forehead cut open, but most of his right cheek had been scrapped off thanks to his trip home.

Good, he'll remember this when he looks in the mirror for a long fuckin' time.

I didn't want him to come back out, so I dug around his house until I came up with a roll of electrical tape. I used that tape to bind his hands and legs together real damn good.

Worm your bitch ass out of that, monkey.

I took the chance to go into his bathroom for just a moment and lifted up my torn and bloody shirt, seeing that yeah, he'd gotten me pretty fucking good.

That wasn't my priority though, and I pushed aside the pain, going back out into the rain. I went straight back to Shera's car and looked in. She was as I had left her, but I wasn't going anywhere. The knife was still lying beside the car and I picked it up and put it in my back pocket. I went behind the car and sat on the curb. I pulled off my coat and draped it over my head, trying to protect myself just a little. If nothing else, it kept my face dry enough to let me smoke, which I needed. After that round of excitement, I didn't find it hard to burn through a good twelve cigarettes.

When the horizon started to brighten, hours later, I was frozen to the bone. Knowing that she was safe enough now that the sun was coming up, I went home, finding out that my body was incredibly sore.

At home, I showered, and had a look at the injury from the fight. It was a nasty cut, and had I not been such a wienie about things, I would have gone and gotten sutures in it. That wasn't in my schedule, though, so I just got a bunch of gauze over it and covered it up with some medical tape. That, at least, would keep it from bleeding through whatever shirt I would get on.

I crashed on the bed for a while, not intending to sleep, really, but sometimes, you just can't fight it.

With a start, I woke up a while later, seeing that it was ten in the morning. I got myself dressed and had a little breakfast. My mind wandered as I poked at the bowl of grits before me.

There ain't no way you're lettin' her spend another night in that fuckin' car. It ain't safe.

I know, I have this habit of talking to myself, but that's what happens when you live alone for so damn long. "I know…"

So are you gonna go get 'er?

"No… not yet."

Get over your fuckin' pride!

"It ain't pride. Like I said before, it's gotta be her idea. I'll wait until tonight. If she don't come to me by then, I'll go give her enough money for a hotel room or somethin'."

Coward…

"Can't help it… she scares the fuck outta me. I need to change the spark plugs on the truck."

Cid… don't change the subject.

"I'm not… They need to be changed. No time like the present." I got up from the kitchen table and went outside since the rain had stopped.

Hey, they did need to be changed.