This is another competition entry that didn’t have the edge to be a winner. All the same, I hope you enjoy it. Careful; not for kids!
I stumble backwards and clutch at my heart.
First the motel cans me… and now this?
I’d come to Hogie’s Bar and Grill to drown my sorrows with my last paycheque. Instead, I see THIS?
When I’d noticed Larry’s orange GMC in the precinct parking lot, I’d thought; Swell! I can get wasted with my boyfriend rather than alone.
Then I looked in the window…
Who the fuck is this shitty little hoe? She’s like Calamity Jane at a bachelorette party, with that glittery pink Stetson and that matching fake buckskin halter tied under her boobs! Jesus, Larry, I’m worth ten of her!
Boiling tears well up in my eyes. I shake like a Moonie having a fit. Some balding old timer walks towards me, probably hoping to play Good Samaritan. That’s the last thing I need now.
“Get lost, yah dumb cueball jerkoff!” I scream.
The old man’s eyes crease up sadly. Hands clasped and head low, he slinks away. I watch him go as the tears clear up and my pulse returns to normal.
Damn! How could I forget about Larry? Guess it’s time to straighten him out. I know! I’ll shove my way into Hogie’s and toss a beer right in his…
No, wait. There’s a loose rock and an empty Budweiser bottle nearby on the sidewalk.
I know something that’ll hurt Larry a lot more.
I find the girls having a sleepover at Rachel’s house. When I tell them what happened, they scream like Elvis has just walked in.
“Mara! You go, girl!”
“Re-spect!”
“Larry’ll piss himself when he sees it!”
“Every man who cheats should have that done to him! I wish I’d smashed the windshields myself!”
“We have got to see Larry’s reaction when he comes out of the bar and finds his Jimmy totalled,” Rachel laughs. “Come on, girls!”
Jaye, Holly, Clorinda and I pile into Rachel’s SUV and race towards Hogie’s.
“Larry’s face’ll be like Wile E Coyote’s when he falls down a canyon,” Holly laughs as the precinct draws near.
“I bet he doesn’t even claim insurance,” Clorinda sneers. “Who’d wanna call Triple A and tell them… That…”
She trails off. Everyone falls silent and stares slack-jawed as Rachel parks up. We step out of the SUV with legs like Jello.
I must be going mad. Larry’s orange Jimmy still stands right where it was, in front of Denny’s and the laundromat. I had left it with every window broken, every tyre slashed, both headlights caved in and the paintwork scratched to Hell and back.
But now?
There isn’t a crack, scratch or puncture anywhere. It’s as good as new. Better than new. How? For Christ’s sake, how?
“Mara…”
“Yes, Rachel?” I manage to say.
“What the fuck?”
Rachel’s glaring at me with narrowed eyes. The others cross their arms and sneer as they do the same. I feel like a mouse caught in a trap.
“You lied to us,” Holly hisses.
“No,” I protest, “No, I…”
“Yeah, I see what happened,” Clorinda says, pointing a finger. “You saw Larry cheating, so you had some shitty little fantasy about vandalising his pick-up, when all you did was cry like the bitch you are!”
“Yeah!” repeats Jaye. “Hey, hold up a minute, doesn’t all this happen in a song?”
“That’s right,” Holly snaps. “Carrie Underwood. You stole the idea from her!”
Deaf to my protests, the girls pile back into Rachel’s SUV and slam the doors.
“Run back to Larry, Mara,” Rachel gloats. “You deserve a man as honest as you are!”
They drive away, laughing horribly. All alone in the parking lot, I stagger over to the wall of Denny’s and slump down to the sidewalk. The tears start flowing unbidden. I can’t think of any time I’ve felt so lost.
After what might just as easily been seconds as hours, a hand gently squeezes my shoulder. I look up, and there’s the mild-mannered old man from earlier, smiling down on me with eyes like stars. This time, I manage to smile back.
“I’m real sorry for hollering at you earlier, Sir,” I whisper.
His face creases subtly just as it had before, this time with happiness.
“Sir… Did I really bust up that orange pick-up over there?”
Without a word, he helps me to my feet and leads me out of the parking lot. I don’t know who this old man is, but one way or another, I’m sure he has the answer.
rpatersonwriting 