Page 60 of Forty

Why did I think this was going to be some healing journey? God, how did I not see that all I was doing was giving the universe a wide-open shot to grind me down once and for all?

My eyes are burning, but I’m not gonna cry. I’m gonna go sit on a bench at the promenade, and I’m going to let the breeze off the river cool me down, and when I’m not falling apart anymore, I’m going to start the ten-mile hike to Lou’s house.

No. Better yet. I’m going to go to the Steel Bones Clubhouse and get that Ford Focus from Heavy. I’m gonna drive to someplace I’ve never been, maybe the mountains, someplace where the sun doesn’t beat down on you so hot in early spring.

I cross the street, still hustling, and I’m panting now, sweat trickling down my back.

I’m planning it all out, Denver or Boulder or better yet Telluride, when I remember Shirlene. I promised her we’d start work on Ray’s basement this weekend.

I slow to a walk.

Shirlene tries to hide it, but her knees are really giving her trouble. She won’t be able to haul stuff up and down those steep steps by herself. And we’ve got to clear the basement. The mice are nesting down there. It doesn’t matter what we do on the first floor if those little fuckers are having baby-making orgies downstairs.

I can’t run away. They need me.

A calm swells in my chest. It’s not a soothing calm. Awfulness is still sloshing around inside me, but my mind is clearing. I’m centering.

When I get to the Promenade, I’ll ask someone to use their phone. I’ll call Shirlene to come get me. She will.

I’m not alone.

And that’s when I hear the roar of Forty’s bike. I consider ducking into an ally, but there’s none convenient. Besides, I stand by that middle finger. I am absolutely willing to repeat myself.

Hell, maybe he’s going to whiz by with Amelia riding bitch. Maybe he’ll be alone, and he’ll just keep going.

I stiffen my spine and school my face.

He pulls up parallel to me and shouts something.

I can’t hear him over the engine.

I keep walking.

He duck walks his ride along Gracy Avenue. Cars swing around him. None of them dare honk.

“Nevaeh! Get on the bike!”

I heard him that time. I roll my eyes and keep truckin’.

“Goddamn it!” He passes an open parking space and pulls in.

I’m nearly a block further when he jogs up behind me, boots clomping on the pavement. He grabs my upper arm. I jerk my elbow forward, and his grip’s tight, so I end up digging his fingers into me. A small whimper escapes before I can swallow it.

He instantly drops my arm. “Nevaeh, stop.”

I start walking again, picking up my pace.

He sighs and falls into step beside me.

“Where are you going, Nevaeh?”

“Doesn’t concern you.”

“You’re not safe walking around on your own.”

“Noted. You can fuck off now.”

“Come back to the bike. I can drop you back off at the clubhouse.”

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