Authors: John Rector
That was when she stopped screaming.
I pulled off the road.
“Baby, you okay?”
“What’d you do that for?”
“You were hollering.
I thought there was a deer or something.”
“God Damn it, Jack.
I think you broke my neck.”
Rochelle likes to exaggerate.
The first time I met her I was filling my tank at the Sap Brothers on I-70 outside of Wichita.
She comes up to me and tells me she hasn’t eaten in four days, and she needed money because she was pregnant and wanted to keep her baby from being born deformed or retarded.
Well, it turned out she lived in one of the rooms across the parking lot and had food of her own.
She’d eaten a bologna sandwich that morning and the truth was she needed the money to move back to Little Rock so she could be by her folks when the baby came.
I didn’t blame her for that.
Family is important.
I’m not sure what it was, but seeing her outside, and thinking about the baby she was carrying, made me think of Mary and Joseph and the story of the manger.
How they’d been forced to lay down with animals because it was cold outside and they couldn’t find anyone who was kind enough to help.
I think it’s important to take lessons from the Bible, especially when you’re faced with a new situation.
“Jesus Christ.
I think my nose is broken.”
I tried to look, but she pulled away.
Her nose wasn’t even bleeding.
“Take me back home.”
“I thought you wanted to see the house.”
She didn’t answer me, and for a while I kept driving toward the house anyway.
Then after a mile or two, I decided to turn around and take her back to her room.
I figured there was no point in upsetting her.
~
When we got back to the motel, she opened the door and got out.
I leaned toward her.
“You want me to wait?”
She didn’t answer, just slammed the door and started across the parking lot toward her room.
I watched her move.
She looked so good from the back.
Everything slid just right when she walked.
I felt bad for looking, but I couldn’t help myself.
As she got closer to her door, a man came out of the next room and grabbed her arm.
I saw her try to pull away, but he slapped her across the face and dragged her inside.
I was up and out of my truck fast, running across the parking lot. He’d left the door to the room open and I saw her sitting on the bed.
He was standing over her, screaming at her.
He didn’t see me coming, and I hit him hard.
He flew across the bed, and landed in a pile against the wall.
I grabbed Rochelle’s hand and pulled her up.
“Are you okay?”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“Jesus, Jack, look what you did.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I put my hand on her stomach, and she pulled away.
The man in the corner pushed himself to his knees.
He looked up, but his eyes seemed distant, not really seeing us.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said.
She moved toward the man on the floor, but I stopped her.
“Rochelle, let’s go.”
“Hold on a minute.
I want to make sure he’s okay.”
The man was still on his knees, but I figured he’d be okay.
He’d hit the wall pretty hard, but his eyes looked clearer now.
Then, when he took the gun from behind his back and pointed it at me, I knew he’d be fine.
“Close that door.”
“Carl.”
Rochelle’s voice had a tired whine to it.
“Just leave him be.”
“You know him?” I asked.
Carl stood, bracing himself against the wall.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Jack Meese, I’m her—”
“Sit the fuck down, Jack Meese.”
I stopped talking, but I didn’t move.
He came at me and pressed the end of the gun against my forehead.
“Sit the fuck down.”
He talked real slow, dragging out each word, like I was stupid.
I felt the anger swell in my chest, but I pushed it back.
There was a faded green couch along the far wall.
I sat down, but I never took my eyes off him.
Carl turned to Rochelle.
“Why don’t you sit next to him.”
Rochelle’s shoulders seemed to slump.
She stood up and shuffled over to the couch, dropping onto the cushions like a scolded child.
“So,” Carl said, smiling.
“How do you two know each other?”
“It’s not like that,” Rochelle said.
“We’re friends.”
“Friends?”
He looked at me.
“You her friend, cowboy?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Yes, he’s my friend.”
Carl nodded, paused.
“She suck your cock, friend?”
I stood, fast.
“You keep your mouth shut.
I don’t know what—”
He pointed the gun at me.
“You get off that couch again and it’ll be the last time.”
My chest was on fire, and every muscle in my body felt like it was going to snap.
I made myself think about Rochelle and the baby.
That was all that mattered, so I sat back down and tried to relax, for their sake.
Carl watched me for a while, then shrugged.
“I don’t really care if she does or not, just trying to make conversation, s’all.”
“What do you want, Carl?”
Rochelle asked.
“I want to know where the hell you ran off to.
Why haven’t I seen you with the others?
It’s been almost a week.”
Rochelle stared at her feet and shrugged.
“I’m moving on, that’s all.
I don’t want to stay here.”
Carl laughed, fast and short.
“You ain’t going anywhere.”
I got a feeling I knew what was going on, but I wasn’t sure.
I leaned over to Rochelle.
“Is he the father?”
Rochelle shushed me, but Carl heard and smiled.
“What’d he say?”
“He didn’t say nothing.”
Carl came over and grabbed Rochelle’s arm and pulled her off the couch.
I went to stand, but he pointed the gun at me and said, “Think it through, cowboy.”
I sat back down, keeping a close watch.
Carl turned back to Rochelle.
“You told him you were pregnant?”
Rochelle pulled her arm away.
“This ain’t your business.”
Carl laughed, and for a minute it looked like he wasn’t able to speak, then he pointed at me.
“Are you fucking stupid, boy?”
The anger flashed again.
I was having a hard time keeping it back.
He kept laughing.
“You must be the dumbest motherfucker I’ve ever met.”
He motioned toward Rochelle.
“Roach is a dangler.”
“Jesus, Carl,” Rochelle said.
“Why do you have to do this?”
Carl ignored her.
He came close to me and said, “You got no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.
“Roach, come over here and show this boy what I’m talking about.”
“No, Carl.”
He turned on her, fast.
“God damn it, now!”
Rochelle hesitated a moment, then crossed the room and stood in front of me.
She mumbled something I didn’t quite hear, then lifted her shirt and unbuttoned her jeans.
I closed my eyes.
Carl hit the back of my head.
“Open your eyes, dipshit.
You’ll like this.”
Rochelle did a small snake move and slid her jeans to her knees.
There was a wispy thin tuft of blonde hair between her legs, and buried beneath was a tiny gray penis.
Carl laughed.
“It ain’t much, but it’s enough.”
He reached down and flicked her penis with his finger.
Rochelle jumped back.
“You’d be surprised how much money this one brings in on a good night.
Some of these boys come from miles just to—”
I got up fast and swung hard, catching him right above his eye.
He stumbled backward into the dresser and dropped the gun.
He tried to get his balance, and I hit him again.
This time he went down.
I kicked the gun under the bed and reached for Rochelle.
“Jesus, Jack,” she said, pulling her pants back up.
She stared at Carl.
“What’d you do that for?”
“Let’s go.
Now.”
I pulled her toward the door, but she squirmed away and ran to where Carl was sitting on the floor.
He had his head back, his palm pressed over his eye.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She knelt in front of him and held his head between her hands.
“Rochelle, let’s go.”
She turned to me and screamed through clenched teeth.
“Fuck you, Jack.
Get out of here.”
“Rochelle?”
She ignored me.
I stayed for as long as I could stand it, then I walked back to my truck, her voice still sounding in my head.
~
I always try to do what’s right.
It’s the way I was raised.
The Bible says not to hate people who do you wrong, and to love your neighbor.
I understand that.
The Bible also says an act of revenge is justified and not considered murder.
I understand that, too, but sometimes one thing the Bible says seems to go against another, and then I get confused.
When that happens, I try to find a middle ground and do what I think is right.