Post by fellbelow on Mar 31, 2007 11:55:14 GMT -5
They were running in a broad sense of the term. Currently, however, he was staring at the bottom of an empty shot glass and hailing the barkeep without looking up. He noticed a smudge on the inside of the glass and moved to buff it out. Before he had pulled his thumb away from the glass he noticed several more smudges along its surface and took the glass and wiped it down with his napkin. The separate smudges were now one big smear that covered the circumference of the shot glass. The smear gave the appearance of filmed glass. Through the now almost opaque outside it was hard to tell whether the glass was empty or not. He tipped it back. Still empty.
“Hey, keep. Refill.”
The group of guys a few seats down from him were already drunk. They were men of various trades, this he had gathered from their raucous conversation. One held an office job for the better part of his employment but moonlighted as a volunteer fireman. Another was a full-time construction worker. The rest followed a similar suit and worked jobs, full or part-time or spare-time, that somehow put them in the line of danger. This last aspect of their jobs they were particularly proud of. This was plain to hear from their current conversational topic of near death experiences.
The barkeep was being detained by their inquiries into the bar's past with hold ups and the like when he was called for. When he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and moved up the bar to fill the glass he looked relieved.
“Gonna be a rough night?”
The barkeep smiled. “No worse than usual, promise ya that. Say, you're not plannin' on driving that pretty black coupe I saw you pull up in after all these drinks are ya?”
“Maybe.”
“Sure would be a shame to see a pretty thing like that get all smashed up, is all I'm sayin', Mr. Case.” That wasn't his real name, of course. They had taken the false names of two of their favorite love-struck characters from an old black-and-white romantic comedy.
“Yeah, I'll keep that in mind.”
The drunks down the bar were shouting at the barkeep to bring them another round.
“How about you hail me again in a bit to save me from having to sit through that junk?” he asked.
“How do you deal with that?”
“Ah, they come in here every night,” the bartender said. “Yeah, they like to pat each other on the back for all the danger they think makes'em real tough guys. I tell ya, they celebrate now. Won't be a damn thing to celebrate when one of'em doesn't turn up one night, ya know?”
The barkeep said this last part with a laugh. Case took this as his cue to laugh, but he couldn't feel it. It came out cold.
The keep moved to the drunks with a big fake smile. The loudest of them reached across the bar and slapped him on the shoulder as a welcome back. He had dark curly hair that stuck to his head because of the construction hat he wore all day. On a normal day Case would have internally criticized the man's unkempt look, but he knew after days of being on the road with no showers or extra clothes he wasn't the cover boy for GQ, either. He had yet to brave the bathroom mirror, but he could imagine his regularly perfectly styled wavy blond hair was still stuck to his head in spots and dyed red from blood in places anyone else would mistake for naturally dark patches of hair. He had removed his jacket, which had become little more than fettered scraps that still clung to his shirt in places. Case hoped that the holes in his white button up were made less noticeable by the surprisingly intact white undershirt he was wearing.
“I'll be right there!” he heard the barkeep yell to him. Case had forgotten to signal him. Coming up the bar with the keep was the loud mouth construction working shoulder slapper. Case would have prayed to God if he didn't already know his standing with Him.
“Hey pal, the name's...”
“Look, you don't want me in your conversation. Anything I'm gonna say would be a lie or what you would hope was a lie. Just walk on back over to your buddies and tell them that the closest I've ever been to Death is from here to ladies' restroom.”
Construction worker thought it was a sexist joke. He went back to his friends with a golden prize for them. Moments later there was a burst of laughter and soon after that three shots were slid in front of Case.
He took them all like liquid life.
Case hadn't lied. Linda was as close to death as he had ever come. She was the daughter of a rich man and brought with her a dowry that would make your head spin. He had thought he was getting Lady Luck, but it turns out Lady Luck had tricked Death into swapping roles and then taken him out. There was no luck anymore.
The only problem that held him in this bar even as he was sure she'd be in front of the mirror for some time doing her make-up was that he loved her. He loved her and that was the key to this whole mess.
Death walked through the double saloon-type doors that led to the restrooms and took her seat next to Case. He looked her over. Before, she had been in just as bad of shape as he was. But now she had ripped the shredded sleeves off of her blouse and made it into a hot little sleeveless number. Her make-up was reapplied where ever she could do so and her raven hair was pulled back into a pony tail so that the chunks that were missing weren't even noticeable.
“You dames can do a lot with a compact, huh?”
“Resourcefulness, sweetheart. It's an inborn trait.” With that she threw him a wink that betrayed the tears that had been streaming from that eye and its partner not quite an hour ago. She was tough, for sure, and that's all that would keep them going now. Case wasn't sure how long she could hold out, though.
“I'm gonna go rinse my hair and see if I can't get rid of a bit more of this blood. Dark hair may suit you real pretty but I'm a born towhead,” he said. He grabbed her arm and moved to kiss her forehead, but she flinched away.
“That's not safe,” she said, barely a whisper, and the gravity of their situation was suddenly back.
Case pissed and washed up quickly in the restroom and was out in ten minutes. He had been right when he guessed his state of disarray. The blood spots in his head did not come out and he only succeeded in spreading their color out to darken more of his hair.
“Let's go,” Case said as he tossed a wad of cash to the barkeep, thanked him, and they both walked briskly through the front door.
He got in the driver's seat of the car and waited for Linda to walk around to the passenger's side. She stopped short in front of the car and stared at Case through the windshield before she finally walked around and got in the car.
“You know, I remember a time when you would have tripped over yourself to come open my door for me,” she said.
“That's not safe,” he replied and Linda said nothing else as they pulled out and got on the highway, but there was an audible sniffle from her every so often.
Hours passed to the sound of only the radio. Neither driver nor passenger spoke. The unusual silence between them drove Case nutty. When they had first met, they could for hours just like any other couple, but what they had was different. They were together for a year and still hadn't stopped staying up until the early hours of the morning just talking. They were inseparable during the day, as well. They were always cutting classes or ditching work just to be together. It was quite charming and sweet. They were perfectly happy.
There in the glow of their happiness, staring maliciously out at them, sat the threat that was hounding them.
“We don't have to let Him tear us apart,” she said.
“We're not going to,” he said, but Case wasn't sure how he meant to keep that from happening. He kept in mind that “love knows no bounds,” but could the speaker of that proverb have really taken into account their current situation?
“Well, does running really make any sense? Look who we're running from. It's impossible.”
Case turned to her, “Sense? Does it make sense? Does any of this make sense to you? Really? If it does could you let me in on it because I'm completely in the dark on how much sense this all makes.”
Linda was about to yell back at him and tell him how insensitive he had become lately, but a tree snapped and fell across the road in front of them. Case slammed the brakes but wasn't able to slow the car enough. It spun around and the passenger's side collided with the tree, slamming Linda's head against the window.
Once they were stopped Case immediately leaned over to check on Linda. She was barely conscious.
“Baby, come on. Wake up. We gotta get outta this car.” He made an effort to shake her to her senses.
“I can barely move. I think I have another concussion,” she said, only just managing to compose each word.
“It's okay, you don't have to. I'll pull you out. Can I do that without hurting you?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
As Case moved to pull her over the center console she seemed to become more aware of what was going on. Case' spirits lifted a little.
“It's gonna be okay,” he said to her, mostly to assure himself.
Linda smiled but then let out a sharp yell.
“My foot!”
Case let her lie gently over the center console and looked over her. Her right foot had been smashed between the seat and the door. From what he could see, the impact of the crash must have crushed the outer metal into her foot as she moved it back when she turned in her seat to yell at him.
“I'm gonna try and pull it out. It's gonna hurt,” he said, and he pulled and it hurt.
She screamed louder than before.
“Just leave it! Go get help and I'll wait here.”
Case was hesitant.
“Are you sure?”
Before she could answer a fire broke on one end of tree and, in a creepy consciousness only seen in movie fire, made a speeding B line for the gas tank of the car.
“Why did you take us down a road in the middle of nowhere? He doesn't even have to be subtle out here!” said Linda.
She continued yelling at him, but Case wasn't listening. He realized what was about to happen. Either they were both about to die while he tried to save her, or she was about to die alone. Case wasn't sure why all of this was happening. None of it made sense. They had been told by Him that now they had found each other and true happiness, happiness more real than anyone else had ever found. With that kind of happiness there was nothing left to live for.
But that was wrong. They had each other to live for; to be together; to love each other. Love was something to live for.
Case looked down at Linda. Her face was twisted in rage as she yelled at him to get her out of the car. She had finally snapped. She was begging for her life. She didn't want to die. Not only that, but Case could see something else in her eyes. Something new.
Selfishness. She didn't want to die alone.
Case knew that the love they had before all of this would have had her sacrifice herself if it meant he could get away. She had changed. The love was dead.
That was why, as she screamed blood curdling pleas as he walked away, he didn't feel a need to turn back. When her pleas turned to curses, he was not hurt. When her curses turned to unintelligible shrieks that filled the night air for miles, he didn't flinch.
And, finally, when all sound save the burning fire ceased, he was at peace.
***(Some years in the future.)***
Case straightened himself up in the mirror. Today he would go to work and interview for a big promotion. Again. This would make the fourth time this year he would interview for this job. Every time before they had told him he just wasn't quite ready for the advancement. Most would-be candidates for the job would give up on the third strike, but not Case. He didn't mind. He enjoyed his denial, in fact. It kept him on his toes, always striving for that something more, something better.
He grabbed his brief case and ran down the stairs. He could smell the scent of cinnamon rolls from the kitchen. As he walked through the archway separating the den and the kitchen he saw a plate with two rolls and a glass of orange juice sitting in front of his spot on the table. He smiled.
“Good morning, sweetie,” he said as he kissed Linda on the cheek.
“Uh huh,” was her only response.
Case sat down at his plate and began eating his breakfast. As he did, he pulled some papers out of his briefcase and began going over everything he was going to say in his interview.
Linda had barely noticed Case entered the room. She was busy getting the dishes put away before she had to go to class. She was back in school taking classes to get her Ph.D in Psychiatry. It was a lot of school, but it kept her looking to the future, always striving for something better.
“You know what tonight is, don't you, Linda?”
She thought for a moment.
“Yes! How could I forget?”
Case smiled as she came over to the table. Maybe they would take a drive out to the country and visit that old bar they had gone in when they celebrated their first year together. He had liked that place. The road trip anniversary had been a good idea.
And so peaceful.
“I have to call Marie right now to confirm it, but I have that dinner meeting with the head of the Psychiatry department tonight to discuss my dissertation! Did you know she's working for him now?”
“You don't say!”
Case didn't look the least bit phased. It was normal for at least one of them to forget their anniversary. One of them always had a meeting to go to or something like that. It wasn't a big deal. A vacation was a silly idea, anyway. They didn't have time for celebrations of love. That was nothing to live for. They were doing things to better their lives, they were looking to the future.
That was something to live for.
“Hey, keep. Refill.”
The group of guys a few seats down from him were already drunk. They were men of various trades, this he had gathered from their raucous conversation. One held an office job for the better part of his employment but moonlighted as a volunteer fireman. Another was a full-time construction worker. The rest followed a similar suit and worked jobs, full or part-time or spare-time, that somehow put them in the line of danger. This last aspect of their jobs they were particularly proud of. This was plain to hear from their current conversational topic of near death experiences.
The barkeep was being detained by their inquiries into the bar's past with hold ups and the like when he was called for. When he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and moved up the bar to fill the glass he looked relieved.
“Gonna be a rough night?”
The barkeep smiled. “No worse than usual, promise ya that. Say, you're not plannin' on driving that pretty black coupe I saw you pull up in after all these drinks are ya?”
“Maybe.”
“Sure would be a shame to see a pretty thing like that get all smashed up, is all I'm sayin', Mr. Case.” That wasn't his real name, of course. They had taken the false names of two of their favorite love-struck characters from an old black-and-white romantic comedy.
“Yeah, I'll keep that in mind.”
The drunks down the bar were shouting at the barkeep to bring them another round.
“How about you hail me again in a bit to save me from having to sit through that junk?” he asked.
“How do you deal with that?”
“Ah, they come in here every night,” the bartender said. “Yeah, they like to pat each other on the back for all the danger they think makes'em real tough guys. I tell ya, they celebrate now. Won't be a damn thing to celebrate when one of'em doesn't turn up one night, ya know?”
The barkeep said this last part with a laugh. Case took this as his cue to laugh, but he couldn't feel it. It came out cold.
The keep moved to the drunks with a big fake smile. The loudest of them reached across the bar and slapped him on the shoulder as a welcome back. He had dark curly hair that stuck to his head because of the construction hat he wore all day. On a normal day Case would have internally criticized the man's unkempt look, but he knew after days of being on the road with no showers or extra clothes he wasn't the cover boy for GQ, either. He had yet to brave the bathroom mirror, but he could imagine his regularly perfectly styled wavy blond hair was still stuck to his head in spots and dyed red from blood in places anyone else would mistake for naturally dark patches of hair. He had removed his jacket, which had become little more than fettered scraps that still clung to his shirt in places. Case hoped that the holes in his white button up were made less noticeable by the surprisingly intact white undershirt he was wearing.
“I'll be right there!” he heard the barkeep yell to him. Case had forgotten to signal him. Coming up the bar with the keep was the loud mouth construction working shoulder slapper. Case would have prayed to God if he didn't already know his standing with Him.
“Hey pal, the name's...”
“Look, you don't want me in your conversation. Anything I'm gonna say would be a lie or what you would hope was a lie. Just walk on back over to your buddies and tell them that the closest I've ever been to Death is from here to ladies' restroom.”
Construction worker thought it was a sexist joke. He went back to his friends with a golden prize for them. Moments later there was a burst of laughter and soon after that three shots were slid in front of Case.
He took them all like liquid life.
Case hadn't lied. Linda was as close to death as he had ever come. She was the daughter of a rich man and brought with her a dowry that would make your head spin. He had thought he was getting Lady Luck, but it turns out Lady Luck had tricked Death into swapping roles and then taken him out. There was no luck anymore.
The only problem that held him in this bar even as he was sure she'd be in front of the mirror for some time doing her make-up was that he loved her. He loved her and that was the key to this whole mess.
Death walked through the double saloon-type doors that led to the restrooms and took her seat next to Case. He looked her over. Before, she had been in just as bad of shape as he was. But now she had ripped the shredded sleeves off of her blouse and made it into a hot little sleeveless number. Her make-up was reapplied where ever she could do so and her raven hair was pulled back into a pony tail so that the chunks that were missing weren't even noticeable.
“You dames can do a lot with a compact, huh?”
“Resourcefulness, sweetheart. It's an inborn trait.” With that she threw him a wink that betrayed the tears that had been streaming from that eye and its partner not quite an hour ago. She was tough, for sure, and that's all that would keep them going now. Case wasn't sure how long she could hold out, though.
“I'm gonna go rinse my hair and see if I can't get rid of a bit more of this blood. Dark hair may suit you real pretty but I'm a born towhead,” he said. He grabbed her arm and moved to kiss her forehead, but she flinched away.
“That's not safe,” she said, barely a whisper, and the gravity of their situation was suddenly back.
Case pissed and washed up quickly in the restroom and was out in ten minutes. He had been right when he guessed his state of disarray. The blood spots in his head did not come out and he only succeeded in spreading their color out to darken more of his hair.
“Let's go,” Case said as he tossed a wad of cash to the barkeep, thanked him, and they both walked briskly through the front door.
He got in the driver's seat of the car and waited for Linda to walk around to the passenger's side. She stopped short in front of the car and stared at Case through the windshield before she finally walked around and got in the car.
“You know, I remember a time when you would have tripped over yourself to come open my door for me,” she said.
“That's not safe,” he replied and Linda said nothing else as they pulled out and got on the highway, but there was an audible sniffle from her every so often.
Hours passed to the sound of only the radio. Neither driver nor passenger spoke. The unusual silence between them drove Case nutty. When they had first met, they could for hours just like any other couple, but what they had was different. They were together for a year and still hadn't stopped staying up until the early hours of the morning just talking. They were inseparable during the day, as well. They were always cutting classes or ditching work just to be together. It was quite charming and sweet. They were perfectly happy.
There in the glow of their happiness, staring maliciously out at them, sat the threat that was hounding them.
“We don't have to let Him tear us apart,” she said.
“We're not going to,” he said, but Case wasn't sure how he meant to keep that from happening. He kept in mind that “love knows no bounds,” but could the speaker of that proverb have really taken into account their current situation?
“Well, does running really make any sense? Look who we're running from. It's impossible.”
Case turned to her, “Sense? Does it make sense? Does any of this make sense to you? Really? If it does could you let me in on it because I'm completely in the dark on how much sense this all makes.”
Linda was about to yell back at him and tell him how insensitive he had become lately, but a tree snapped and fell across the road in front of them. Case slammed the brakes but wasn't able to slow the car enough. It spun around and the passenger's side collided with the tree, slamming Linda's head against the window.
Once they were stopped Case immediately leaned over to check on Linda. She was barely conscious.
“Baby, come on. Wake up. We gotta get outta this car.” He made an effort to shake her to her senses.
“I can barely move. I think I have another concussion,” she said, only just managing to compose each word.
“It's okay, you don't have to. I'll pull you out. Can I do that without hurting you?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
As Case moved to pull her over the center console she seemed to become more aware of what was going on. Case' spirits lifted a little.
“It's gonna be okay,” he said to her, mostly to assure himself.
Linda smiled but then let out a sharp yell.
“My foot!”
Case let her lie gently over the center console and looked over her. Her right foot had been smashed between the seat and the door. From what he could see, the impact of the crash must have crushed the outer metal into her foot as she moved it back when she turned in her seat to yell at him.
“I'm gonna try and pull it out. It's gonna hurt,” he said, and he pulled and it hurt.
She screamed louder than before.
“Just leave it! Go get help and I'll wait here.”
Case was hesitant.
“Are you sure?”
Before she could answer a fire broke on one end of tree and, in a creepy consciousness only seen in movie fire, made a speeding B line for the gas tank of the car.
“Why did you take us down a road in the middle of nowhere? He doesn't even have to be subtle out here!” said Linda.
She continued yelling at him, but Case wasn't listening. He realized what was about to happen. Either they were both about to die while he tried to save her, or she was about to die alone. Case wasn't sure why all of this was happening. None of it made sense. They had been told by Him that now they had found each other and true happiness, happiness more real than anyone else had ever found. With that kind of happiness there was nothing left to live for.
But that was wrong. They had each other to live for; to be together; to love each other. Love was something to live for.
Case looked down at Linda. Her face was twisted in rage as she yelled at him to get her out of the car. She had finally snapped. She was begging for her life. She didn't want to die. Not only that, but Case could see something else in her eyes. Something new.
Selfishness. She didn't want to die alone.
Case knew that the love they had before all of this would have had her sacrifice herself if it meant he could get away. She had changed. The love was dead.
That was why, as she screamed blood curdling pleas as he walked away, he didn't feel a need to turn back. When her pleas turned to curses, he was not hurt. When her curses turned to unintelligible shrieks that filled the night air for miles, he didn't flinch.
And, finally, when all sound save the burning fire ceased, he was at peace.
***(Some years in the future.)***
Case straightened himself up in the mirror. Today he would go to work and interview for a big promotion. Again. This would make the fourth time this year he would interview for this job. Every time before they had told him he just wasn't quite ready for the advancement. Most would-be candidates for the job would give up on the third strike, but not Case. He didn't mind. He enjoyed his denial, in fact. It kept him on his toes, always striving for that something more, something better.
He grabbed his brief case and ran down the stairs. He could smell the scent of cinnamon rolls from the kitchen. As he walked through the archway separating the den and the kitchen he saw a plate with two rolls and a glass of orange juice sitting in front of his spot on the table. He smiled.
“Good morning, sweetie,” he said as he kissed Linda on the cheek.
“Uh huh,” was her only response.
Case sat down at his plate and began eating his breakfast. As he did, he pulled some papers out of his briefcase and began going over everything he was going to say in his interview.
Linda had barely noticed Case entered the room. She was busy getting the dishes put away before she had to go to class. She was back in school taking classes to get her Ph.D in Psychiatry. It was a lot of school, but it kept her looking to the future, always striving for something better.
“You know what tonight is, don't you, Linda?”
She thought for a moment.
“Yes! How could I forget?”
Case smiled as she came over to the table. Maybe they would take a drive out to the country and visit that old bar they had gone in when they celebrated their first year together. He had liked that place. The road trip anniversary had been a good idea.
And so peaceful.
“I have to call Marie right now to confirm it, but I have that dinner meeting with the head of the Psychiatry department tonight to discuss my dissertation! Did you know she's working for him now?”
“You don't say!”
Case didn't look the least bit phased. It was normal for at least one of them to forget their anniversary. One of them always had a meeting to go to or something like that. It wasn't a big deal. A vacation was a silly idea, anyway. They didn't have time for celebrations of love. That was nothing to live for. They were doing things to better their lives, they were looking to the future.
That was something to live for.