Page 3 of Idle


  I pulled over and he kind of jogged up. I leaned over, closer to the passenger-side window. “What are you doing out here?” I asked him.

  “My Jeep’s in the shop and I needed some stuff in town.”

  “I can give you a ride,” I said.

  Salinger opened the passenger-side door and Katie hopped in the back with Ansen, who tucked her into his side, making her giggle.

  “Thanks,” Salinger said, jumping into the passenger seat and closing the door.

  I pulled back onto the road; gravel spit out behind us. Salinger put one hand on the dash and the other held his hair out of his face since I had the Scout’s hardtop off. “Crazy running into you,” he said with a smile, which made my stomach plummet at my feet.

  “Yeah,” Ansen agreed, “what? Your girlfriend doesn’t have a car or something?”

  Salinger laughed.

  “What?” Ansen asked.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  My heart beat even harder.

  “You’re not dating that Lyric girl?” Katie chimed in.

  “Nah, she’s just a friend,” he explained.

  Ansen laughed. “Friendzoned.”

  Salinger shook his head but laughed. “I’ve been very honest with Lyric.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “So she’s into you, you know it, and she sticks around thinking you’ll change your mind.”

  He shook his head.

  “I bet she thinks you’re leading her on,” I said.

  His mouth gaped open, ready to defend himself, I thought, but narrowed his eyes instead. “What happened to your face?” he asked. He lifted a hand, like he was going to touch my skin, but let it drop.

  I shook my head. “Got plastered and ran into a door,” I lied.

  I glanced in my rearview, Katie and Ansen were too entrenched in each other to notice I’d lied or didn’t want to call me out on it, I wasn’t sure.

  “Oh,” he said, looking disappointed. I hated how that made me feel inside, but I wasn’t about to tell him what actually happened.

  “What did you need in town?” I asked him.

  “I need a few things for work. I work the night shift and don’t have a lot of time, so you’re really saving me here. Thanks.”

  “You hungry? Want to come eat with us?” I asked.

  He narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Where are you going?”

  “Here,” I answered.

  I found a parking spot at Chuck’s.

  “Stay there,” he said, as I threw my Scout in park. “I’ll get your door.”

  If I looked surprised by this, he pretended not to notice. He rounded the front of my car and reached my door, opening it for me and helping me out.

  Katie squeezed through and he helped her out as well. “How come you never do this for me, Ansen?” she asked him.

  “What would I do that for? Then you’ll expect it every time,” he said.

  Salinger’s mouth dropped open a little in shock. Ansen and Katie started to argue, so I left them there. He sped ahead of me and opened the door to Chuck’s and we walked through. It was packed. It was always packed, actually. There was no other food joint in my entire county. Not even a McDonald’s would put a restaurant in our sleepy town. It worked out anyway, because Chuck’s had pretty decent food. Well, it was always hot, anyway.

  “Going to school?” he asked me.

  I swallowed, hoping my neck wasn’t turning red. “Nah,” I answered, hoping he’d drop it. He did, but you could tell he wanted to ask me more. “Are you?” I asked.

  “I take online courses right now.”

  “Why online?”

  “Just because,” he said vaguely.

  We reached the counter and I watched as he studied the menu.

  “What’ll it be?” Chuck asked.

  “I’ll take the usual,” I told him.

  Chuck looked over at Salinger. “What about you, sir?”

  “I’ll take your chicken sandwich.”

  “That’ll be seven dollars even,” Chuck said.

  I swung my hobo bag onto one hip and reached for my wallet.

  “It’s on me,” he said.

  I put my wallet away. “Thank you,” I said as Chuck handed him his change.

  I mentally calculated what I had left over from money I’d gotten from graduation. Definitely need to figure out a way to make some cash.

  “No problem,” he said.

  Suddenly a hand bolted toward me and I instinctively ducked, raising my hands. Chuck tsked under his breath, gently reaching for my chin, and examined my face.

  “Sterling still hittin’ on you?” Chuck asked.

  Sterling’s abuse wasn’t new to anyone in town, but his asking in front of Salinger after I blatantly lied was utterly humiliating. I know my throat turned red for certain; I felt it. Chuck noticed, shook his head, turned, and yelled out our orders to the cook. I pivoted, searched for a table, and noticed there was one in the back corner along the windows nearest my car. We sat down and I looked out. Ansen and Katie were yelling at each other.

  “Classy,” I told him.

  He ignored my comment, my attempt to distract him. “Who is Sterling?” he asked me.

  I brought the backs of my hands up to my heated cheeks. “He’s a mean drunk. My stepdad,” I offered.

  “You live with him?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered shortly.

  “Why don’t you get out of there?” he asked point-blank.

  I thought of my little sisters, even my mom. “Can’t.”

  “Yeah, you can.”

  I studied him. “Trust me.”

  He nodded his head. “Listen, I don’t really know you, but if you ever need a place to crash, I’ve got a couch.”

  “Thanks,” I said and genuinely smiled.

  He smiled back, reached into his pocket, and took out his phone.

  “What’s your number?” he asked.

  I rattled off my digits as, I assumed, he programmed them in.

  Ten seconds later, I got a text.

  Hey, Lily, it’s Salinger

  “Thanks,” I repeated once more.

  “Any time,” he said.

  We both looked out the window again to see that Ansen and Katie were now making out against my car.

  “Idiots,” we both said at the same time.

  Chuck came over and set our sandwiches down. I smiled up at him and Chuck brushed my hair out of my eyes before he rushed back to the kitchen.

  Salinger watched me intently, setting my stomach on edge.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “What are you studying?” I asked him.

  “Psychology.”

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “It’s just ironic that you happened upon the town’s biggest nut case.”

  He took a bite of his food and swallowed, wiping his incredible mouth with a napkin. “Who?”

  Me, I thought. “Ansen,” I told him, and he laughed.

  “What are you going to do with your degree?” I asked.

  “Um, go into counseling.”

  “That’s cool.”

  I’m a loser, I thought. Ansen was right. This guy is actually going places. I’m just a worthless girl who smokes weed all day and is going nowhere.

  “You working anywhere?” he asked, sealing the nail in my coffin.

  “Uh, no, I’m in between jobs right now,” I lied.

  “You should come work with me,” he offered. “They’re pretty desperate for night crew. We just stock stuff all night and go home in the morning. The pay’s all right.”

  I cleared my throat. Holy shit, the prospect of working next to him actually appeals to me. “Yeah, uh, maybe I’ll do that.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him a question, but he distracted me.

  “Where are your friends?”

  I glanced outside. They weren’t there. I looked around Chuck’s, thinking they
might have come inside without our noticing, but they weren’t inside either.

  I shrugged. “They’re an enigma.”

  “What a bunch of nutters,” he joked.

  “You should open up a practice here when you’re through with school. Business would be booming.”

  He laughed but shook his head. “I don’t stay in any place longer than a year.”

  “What? Weird. Why?”

  He shook his head. “I just like a change of scenery, you know?”

  “I guess,” I answered him. I shook my head. “It’s still a mystery to me why you chose Bottle County, though.”

  “Wanted to see what living in a small town was like and my friend Noah lives near here, so,” he left hanging.

  “You won’t find any smaller than here.”

  “Then it looks like I found the right place.”

  I took a bite of my sandwich, but it hurt to chew, so I set it back down and tried to pretend I wasn’t in agony. It didn’t work.

  “Jesus, Lily, why didn’t you call the police?”

  I felt my face heat up. “I don’t think I can talk to you about this. I don’t know you.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, but he didn’t look like he wanted to let it go.

  “Just trust me,” I tried to appease.

  “But I don’t know you,” he said. Thief.

  I swallowed. “I can’t call the police,” I said.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because they already know, Salinger, that’s why. They already know but this is a good ol’ boy town, if you haven’t noticed, and Sterling, my stepdad drinks while playing poker with the chief of police. Satisfied? My job is to keep quiet and not die from his injuries. That’s my only job.”

  He sat back in his booth. “That’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever heard come from someone’s mouth. I feel sick to my stomach.”

  “Let’s drop this.”

  “You need to get out of there.”

  I laughed. “And go where? No money. No job. No purpose,” I let slip, making my face heat up even hotter.

  “Get a job then.”

  “Nah,” I said, sitting back a little. I shoved the basket with my sandwich away from me.

  “You don’t look like you eat much,” he whispered.

  “I’m fine, dude, promise.”

  “Lily,” he said with pity in his voice, making me feel worse.

  “I’m not a project, Salinger.”

  “Lily—” he began, but I’d reached my limit and stood. “Wait,” he offered softly, “wait. I’ll stop. I promise.”

  I sat back down and settled in as much my sore body would allow me to. We sat in silence for a good solid minute before he spoke up again.

  “Where’d you learn to play chess like that?”

  “I told you.”

  “You’re telling me that you played a bit of computer chess and that’s how you learned?”

  “Yes. The game came naturally and every time I’d beat the computer, I’d try to find the next one, an unbeatable one.”

  “What program? Fritz?”

  I snorted. “Child’s play.”

  “Shredder?”

  “Shredded it. Several times.”

  “Komodo?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ve beat them all.”

  “Even Houdini and Stockfish?”

  “Yes, Salinger, like I told you, I beat them all.”

  He stared at me, his mouth agape. “If that’s true, you could be one of the best in the world.”

  “Shut up,” I said, laughing.

  “Lily,” he said with weight, “it’s true. You were moving in ways I hadn’t even thought of, didn’t think was possible. You knew every move I was going to make.”

  “I knew nine moves in every move you were going to make. I knew I was going to win nine moves in.”

  “I believe you.”

  I smiled to myself. “At least I’m good at something,” I whispered.

  “You’re not good, Lily, you’re a phenom.”

  “Shut up,” I laughed. “You’ve only played me one time.”

  “Fine,” he said, “let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To the park. Let’s play a little before I have to work.”

  “What about your errands?”

  “Screw the errands.”

  “Okay,” I said, grabbing my hobo bag and making my way toward the doors.

  Salinger and I played until it was dark and he had to go. I dropped him off, which felt weird. I asked him if he wanted me to come get him in the morning. He politely declined, saying his car should be done near then and it was just across the street from the store, and that he’d planned it that way. I stifled my disappointment. I liked being near him.

  He was an instant friend, which was kind of cool. It felt kind of awesome to be able to talk about chess with him, too, so it made sense that I’d forgotten all about what had happened that morning, driving back home, feeling happy and light for the first time in ages.

  I bounded up the front porch, forgetting all about who was inside and what awaited me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I PRACTICALLY SKIPPED through the door.

  Immediately an arm came across my throat hard. I slammed to the floor, the wind knocked out of me. Sterling crouched close. I gasped for air but none would come. My lungs burned for air.

  I guess Sterling is home.

  “Just where in the hell have you been?” he asked. I shook my head, unable to answer. “I heard tell you were out whoring around.”

  I couldn’t focus on anything as my lungs began working again and I gasped for oxygen, choking in large gulps of air.

  “J.P. saw you in the park today with some boy when you shoulda been looking for work.”

  Still unable to talk, I could only stare at the crumbling ceiling, begging myself not to cry.

  “You ain’t gonna live in my house for free, you little whore. Now, get yourself up and get to the kitchen. Make yourself useful.” I could hear him fall into the couch.

  I turned onto my side and attempted to stand up but didn’t have the strength. I pushed myself on to my stomach and brought my body up on my hands and knees so I could safely stand up without falling over.

  I could hear Sterling stand up. “What are you doing? What are you doing? You trying to tempt me, you little whore?”

  I fought with everything I had to stand, to face him, and backed into the kitchen.

  “No, Sterling,” I said, my voice sounding fatigued. “Just trying to get back up,” I explained, hoping not to enrage him any further.

  “Show that side of yourself to me again and I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

  He fell back down onto the sofa.

  I ignored him and stumbled into the kitchen, begging God there were cans of something, anything, in the pantry I could put together for him.

  Sterling had been making comments to me like that since I turned sixteen, but they’d become more frequent, more suggestive after I graduated. It scared me. He scared me.

  I found some rice in an old canister in the back of our pantry, sort of hidden. I grabbed that and some severely freezer-burned chicken that had fallen out of the original bag and sat at the bottom of the freezer door shelf. I threw it in a pot with a bunch of stale spices and the rice and prayed it would turn out edible.

  Sterling sat on the couch, watching the crappy television. About ten empty beer cans littered the coffee table, and a cold one was in his meaty hand.

  When the rice was done, I plated it, took a deep breath, tiptoed through the living room and placed it on the table, then attempted to walk out quietly.

  “What the hell is this!” he yelled, making me stop in my tracks. “You trying to poison me, whore?”

  I turned just in time to catch the hot plate to my temple. Instinctively, I fell to sit on the heels of my feet, my hands to my head. I brought a shaking hand down and saw blood there. Lots of it. This one was bad. Sterli
ng stomped toward me; the weight of his body made the walls shake.

  “You better get in that goddamn bathroom and clean yourself or I will fucking kill you.”

  He roughly shoved me with a boot and I practically crawled to the bathroom, careful not to smear blood on the walls. The last thing I wanted was to scare the girls when they came home later, from wherever they were with my mom. When I got inside, I shut the door and examined my face.

  It was bleeding profusely, but from what I’d discovered, head wounds always bled a little more freely. I tied my hair back and bent to the sink, turning on the water, and letting cold water run over the side of my head. The water ran red and red and red and red. The adrenalin was starting to wear off and my hands shook even harder as it left. Keeping my head under the water, I dug around the floor for a towel. When I found one, I brought it up and pressed as hard as I could to the cut, then brought it away from my head so I could see how deep it was. It was pretty deep. I pressed the hand towel back to my head then rummaged through the medicine cabinet for some old butterfly stitches or something but couldn’t find any.

  “Damn it,” I whispered.

  I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and texted Ansen. I waited a few minutes and texted again. He didn’t answer. I put my ear to the door, listening for movement from Sterling. It was dead quiet, so I opened the bathroom door and waited. Nothing. He wasn’t in the living room, and I didn’t hear him in the kitchen. Quickly, I headed for the front door and slipped out, huffing it as best I could to my Scout.

  Once inside, I had a tough time getting the key into the ignition but when it landed, I turned that sucker and sped out of there, heading straight for the only grocery store in town and praying I wouldn’t somehow run into Salinger.

  The market looked dead as a doornail since it was due to close in ten minutes. As much as I hated the thought of going in, I knew driving to the next town was my only option and since it was an over an hour away, I also knew I couldn’t afford the gas money.

  Just go, Lily.

  I opened the door as my phone rang. It was Ansen. Finally.

  “Ansen,” I answered.

  “What’s up, Lily?”

  “Sterling clocked me good. Need butterfly stitches.”

  “Fuck,” he answered, sighing into the phone. “At home still?”

  “No, didn’t have anything. I’m up at the market.”