VI.

     The next few hours passed by in silence as the guilt sunk down into Donny’s core. Crystal had tried to kill herself over what he’d told her. She’d somehow come to terms with Jimmy and the young girl from the accident, perhaps had even believed the girl had been with Donny that night. But no, the truth was that the girl was one of many, and had it not been for the accident, she wouldn’t have been the last.

      Donny was in his mother’s living room holding a mug of coffee with both hands. He was sitting on a sofa with flower patterns across it, covered in thick plastic to keep the condition pristine. A plate of food was placed on a nearby end table, but he hadn’t touched it. Like the coffee, it had gone cold an hour ago. His stomach growled but he ignored it. His head pounded ferociously, and he welcomed it. There was a small frame holding a Polaroid of a young girl �" Nikki. There were no pictures of Donny around.

      His mother was in the kitchen on a cordless phone, walking the length of the room back and forth.

      “Yeah, I heard, poor thing. Did anyone know she was troubled? Yeah…yeah, of course. And do they know what they’re gonna do with Jim? Uh huh…Oh no…well let me know if there’s anything I can do. Please take care, I’m so sorry.”

      She placed the phone on the receiver and walked into the living room.

      “That was Amber; Crystal’s sister,” she said, sitting down in a chair across from him. She watched Donny carefully, unsure of his reaction. “She, uh…she didn’t make it.”

      Donny closed his eyes and rested his head against the plastic back of the sofa. “I’m responsible.” He said. “I did this.”

      “Oh stop that nonsense; you weren’t even there! You’re not that important Donald.” She held her hands nervously. She was confused by his behavior and wouldn’t indulge it. He watched the ceiling through red, swollen eyes, and she saw her son for the first time.

      His hair was long and greasy. The bruise on his throat carried up to his chin, giving him a dour appearance. His clothes were old and tattered, with dark stains that could have been blood. If she didn’t know he was her son, he’d have looked like any other broken man she’d known in her life �" just another bum on the street.

      She closed her eyes and gave a silent prayer; not for his rescue, she realized, but for his removal. In that moment, she wanted him far away from her.

      “Listen Donald….” She said, choosing her words carefully. “I think you should take the trailer. Just keep it; you need it more than I do.” She smiled gently with anxious eyes.

      “Yeah?” he said, still watching the ceiling. “Sure.”

      His mother watched him again and stood up, looking for something to do to avoid being in the same room as him.

      Donny sat in the couch, feeling his pulse surge through the pain in his head. Crystal’s tortured face appeared to him, mixed with the image of the laughing young girl. He was complicit, if not responsible, for both of them. He should have stopped Jimmy. He should have never lied for him.

      He opened his eyes and got up from the couch. His mother had gone to the basement, pretending to occupy herself. He opened the junk drawers and searched around but couldn’t find what he was looking for. He frowned in irritation and walked into the dining room. On the table, next to a faded paper that said Title in bold letters, were the keys to his father’s motorcycle. Quickly, he grabbed them and went into the garage.

      His mother heard the nearby engine roll over and drive away. She walked up the steps slowly, in case her son had not been the cause of the sound. Seeing that he was really gone, she crossed herself and thanked the angels who answered her prayers, as she had done when her husband had finally left.

      Donny drove the bike down 1st Street, slowly at first, adjusting to the feel of the bike. When he felt comfortable, he gunned the engine and turned towards Cantrell Road.

      He drove past Victor’s Bar, thinking of Dolores and her kindness over the years. She was no doubt filling the seats with the rest of the degenerates in this town, wondering where he’d been, and if she should still keep his seat empty. In a small-town bar that was lucky to get any customers, she reserved his seat so the lights wouldn’t bother him. What a sweetheart.

      Donny rode on. He moved to the left lane to avoid two police cars surrounding a red station wagon. As he passed, he could see the officer from the hospital with his gun drawn, kneeling into the back of a man who was face-first in the ground. The man’s bald head showed dark colored tattoos of lightning bolts, striking into the dirt with a struggle. There were three other police officers nearby �" two were helping to arrest Drew. The other was at the passenger side of the station wagon, hand on his holster, commanding a young woman in a pink Mickey Mouse t-shirt inside to exit the vehicle. Donny locked eyes with Brandi for a moment before he rode past.

      He turned on Cantrell Rd. and followed it down, feeling a wave of nostalgia as he passed the familiar houses, and pulled into Jimmy’s driveway near where a powder blue car was parked. He clicked the engine off and stared at the small house where he’d come almost nightly to find Jimmy waiting impatiently on the porch. Jimmy wasn’t waiting anymore.

      Has it really been over a year? He asked himself, kicking out the kickstand. He walked to the door and knocked, hoping there’d been some kind of mistake and Crystal would open it, and he could forgive himself. He heard a shuffling sound inside and the turning of locks against the door that opened to the defaced sight of his best friend.

      “Hh he helllloo?” said Jimmy. He stood in the doorframe as the pale imitation of a man. His clothes had grown on him, or rather, he’d shrunk down. He’d also lost too much weight, and his clothes draped over him now at least two sizes too big. He was crouched and gripping a walker that had tennis balls over the stands. His hair was almost gone �" what was left streamed down over his face in gray whisps.

      His face. Donny’s stomach turned over and he was glad he hadn’t eaten anything. Jimmy’s face had become concave: the bones turned in at the outer sides of his cheeks, mashing the features of his face together like a carnival mirror. One eye was closed and appeared hollow. The other was looking at Donny, and for a moment, he could make out that it was his friend.

      “I’m here man,” said Donny. “I’m here.”

      “Dddd…don….Donnnyy?” said Jimmy.

      “Yeah,” said Donny. “It’s me.” Jimmy stared at him for a minute and moved his shoulders in a way that resembled a shrug.

      “Yyyyoo…yyou llloookk….terr….terrrible.” said Jimmy.

      Jimmy held onto Donny as they turned off of Cantrell Rd. His grip was loose and Donny was afraid he might fall off at the turn, but he reflexively shifted his weight and held on. Neither of them wore helmets, letting the wind pass through their ears in a familiar wave of freedom.

      They came to a red light, and stopped. The road was mostly empty, and the sky was clear. Perfect riding conditions. A gray SUV pulled up alongside them, where Artie Harris was sipping a coffee behind the wheel. He looked over and saw Jimmy giving him a toothless smile, lifting his chin to show his full face. Artie dropped his coffee cup and Donny could hear him cursing loudly in the car. They both laughed and rode on.

      They came to the long stretch of road that had changed their lives. On the side of the road, a flower memorial had been set up in memory of the laughing girl. Donny stopped next to it to take a look - the flowers had withered and fallen out, and what few had remained were brown and rotting. There were bits of water-logged paper that were meant as goodbye messages littering the ground around it. A curled photo was placed in the middle of the biggest arrangement. The young girl’s face was beaming with promise, and underneath read a small placard: “Rest in Peace Beth. You were loved and will be missed.”

      Donny sighed. He could turn back. He could bring Jimmy home and try to forget. He could try not to see Beth’s face anymore, but he knew it would just be replaced with Crystal’s. Her sad eyes would haunt him, as Beth’s young laugh had.

      It’s time, he thought. Donny stared ahead and hit the accelerator, feeling the wind hit his face as he gained speed. He shifted gear and felt an invisible force push against him, trying to slow him down. He fought against it. Jimmy held onto him firmly, finding a strength Donny didn’t know was still there.

      The wind enveloped them. He couldn’t hear anything but the roar of the engine and the woosh of the wind against his head. His heart pounded inside his chest; adrenaline rushed through his veins, making him forget about his pains that were now a dull afterthought. He was happy.

      They had reached the bikes full speed and were flying down the road. There was a silence in the wind that forgave him and comforted him. Jimmy’s grip loosened; his body relaxed. Donny could see the turn ahead. It was too late to slow down. He let go of the handles, turned his head and looked at Jimmy. He was laughing the entire time.

Reviews

[Ian Reeve]

This is a superb piece of writing! Not the sort of thing I nofmally read, I generally prefer fantasy and sci fi, but once I'd started I couldn't stop. I love the depth of description, both of settings and people, and the way the chatacters relate to each other.
The end of the sixth chapter seems to suggest that Donny and Jimmy committed suicide together. Is that right, and if so, does that mean that the story is over? The reason I ask is that the very first part of the first chapter is written from the perspective of a girl called Laurie. I kept expecting her to make a reappearance but she never did. Does she appear in chapters yet to be published? If her role in the story is explained somewhere and I missed it then I apologise.
Well done on a great piece of writing! I look forward to reading more of your work.

[Jeremy]

Thanks so much! Laurie doesn't reappear; she was meant to kind of set up the rest of the people in town and how they differ from Donny. In the intro, she's grasping onto a lottery ticket, banking her chances on numbers that represent the age she was during negative events in her life. Her father died of cancer, she was divorced - she uses these events to choose her numbers in the lottery because she believes there's a brighter future past the negative. She even says "I didn't win, but I'm still a winner." Her life hasn't been easy, but she still has some hope.

Donny isn't like that. He only focuses on the past and lets the negativity swallow him. His last few days are filled with nothing but pain, and he doesn't deal with it well. His hope does return briefly in the hospital, just to be shattered after he sees that Crystal has killed herself.

The dialogue from the scene with Laurie was actually taken from a conversation I overheard riding on the bus. A woman was scratching a scratch-off lottery ticket and lost, but insisted she was still a winner in life because God was good to her. I found her vulnerability interesting and created a history for her.

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. I honestly didn't expect anyone would, haha. I'm in the middle of writing the first play I've ever written which is a much more autobiographical, and it makes me want to go back and rewrite it as a novel. Again, thanks so much for your review and the time you took to read it; I look forward to reading more of your work as well.

[TMK]

... bike's full speed ... not "bikes full speed." Excellent writing. I just had a few niggles which I already posted. One other, and no biggy, but at the beginning, when he says "She wasn't the first one," it is really unclear (at least to me) what he's talking about. It becomes clear later, but I think it would be better if you could foreshadow that a bit. i went back twice at that point, trying understand what was going on, and thinking I'd missed something.