Finishing my meal is next to impossible. All I can see is Tyler’s eyes. Feel the pressure mounting around me. The expectation and heavy wave of imminent madness. The patrons filling the diner seem, all of sudden, farther away. Like I’m standing on the other side of an invisible wall. Looking in from the outside. Wishing I could go back in time, by a meager five minutes. I realize, this is probably exactly what Tyler was discussing, in his whispered boy time. Whatever, there’s no time to think about that now. It’s time to go, before the diner starts to clear up, and we get caught skipping out on this two hundred dollar bill. The boys stay behind so we can get a head start, being that we’re going to be taking care of the hard part. Assholes. Tyler does nothing to reassure me as we get up to go, but tells he’ll be waiting for us down the street. For us to come find him when we’re done. I’m trying not to up chuck as he repeats it one more time. Walking out the front door into the night air, everything feels manic. The rustling of the trees, the street lamps spotlighting us as we walk. Each breath I take, fast and shallow, like the raging pumping of my heart. The sweat building up on the inside of my palms. She keeping pace with me, and I can feel her curious nervousness. Once we’re out of view from the diner, I pull her aside. Red’s still with us, and I ask her if she really wants to be here for this. She says yes, obviously hiding her frantic anxiety. I again shake my head, telling her this isn’t some kind of drive in movie show. Go home. She folds her arms, and pulls this five year old temper tantrum stance, and I give up.
She looks at me with anticipation, and I tell her. We’re just gonna walk the back street, and go from there. It’s late enough now, that most people have gone in for the night and we won’t have to worry as much about somebody seeing us. As I’m saying these things, my heart rate jacks up, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I’m not so much scared as I am, one hundred percent aware, how fucking wrong this is. Also, of how it’s going to happen anyways. As we continue walking, I tell She, if we see someone, follow my lead. We’re only doing guys, no chicks. I tell her guys will let down their guard if they think there’s a chance they might get some ass, so be flirtatious. She’s just nodding her head yes, as I go down the list of my inexperienced commands. As I’m saying these things, I realize, I don’t know if I have the balls to do this. I genuinely have a great amount of compassion. I’m not a violent person. I can be, but naturally I’m just not wired that way. My ability to kick some ass, and act fearless, comes from my time spent on the street and the drug lifestyle. It’s all a learned behaviour. So, this is what I’m trying to do as we walk, learn. Find a way to feel some hate. I have to hate, if I’m going to do this. Digging, find it Ang, find it. Suddenly there it was, the faces I needed. The rape. Fuck. The rape. There it is. Boiling searing hate. Bubbling stinking sulfur. It stabs at me, and I use it. We see this lone car, parked awkwardly in the middle of a large empty parking lot. Exhaust fumes smoking out the back tail pipe. The driver side window rolled down, the man sitting alone. Smoking a cigarette. I look at She. She looks at me and nods. The cars about 20 feet away, and all I can hear is the pounding thud of my heart in my ears. Reaching deeper inside myself, letting the hate rise up in me. It’s loud and strong, so much, I can hardly bare it. Fuck this hurts. The man looks over at us, surprised, but smiling. His long hair, thin and curled by the grease he hasn’t washed off in days. Getting closer, I’m shaking with my tormenting memories, this is turning into some kind of sick flashback. Why did I open Pandora’s infinite box. He throws out some perverted comment, of which I can’t remember, I can only recall the switch it flipped inside of me. I went from shaking, to viciously hard and vengeful. From nervous, to mechanicle and almost relaxed. His face turning into the faces I hated so much. His dirty mouth, yellow teeth and predatory gaze adding to the incentive. She leans over and looks into his eyes, Hey sugar..you lookin’ for a date? he nods his head yes as he asks how much. I haven’t had to say a word yet, as I watch She slowly reaching into her pants, I almost forgot about the hatchet for a second. Answering him with a, how much you got baby? her hand gliding down over the silver metal as he leans over to grab his wallet. By the time he sits up and opens it, She has the blade of the axe resting on his throat. His eyes gaping as he realizes what’s happening. He momentarily moves his head back, trying to escape it. Rage and fear well up in me and I grab his face with my hand.
Don’t you move asshole, she’ll slit your throat before your next breath, all I have to do is say yes. Do you fucking understand?
The words trailing off into the night air…and all I can hear is his heavy breathing. This isn’t me. I haven’t just said those words, but it’s too late. It’s just way too late.