I'm Okay, You're Not Okay Pt. 07

Chapter 7

The burlap moneybags called Jimmy's name in stereo. He squirmed in the driver's seat of his parked Gremlin, telling himself that he wasn't a crook while the devil on his left shoulder screamed at him to make like D.B. Cooper and split with the cash.

There was more than five grand in the two bags -- enough money for Jimmy to start a new life, as Mike had jokingly suggested the previous evening when he'd directed his newest employee to deposit the Sitting Bull receipts into the bar's bank account.

A new life.

Jimmy gazed beyond the First National Bank parking lot at the nearby highway to Canada. With a drawn-out sigh, he wondered what a new life might look like. Maybe it would be a place where he didn't get dogged constantly by people who were supposed to be in his corner; a place where his secrets weren't betrayed, where he could pee standing up like a man -- and where he wouldn't be pressured into having gay sex with some rich slob.

Scowling into the rearview mirror, Jimmy reamed himself:

"Dude, wake the fuck up. How could she ask you to do something like that? Even if it is five hundred a week -- anyone who loved you wouldn't put you in that position. She doesn't care about you and she never did. Nicole only sees dollar signs. Take this cash and go to Canada, already. Start your new life, because there's nothing left for you here. Your marriage is done."

Jimmy looked away from the mirror, as if averting his gaze could erase the obnoxious truth. He tried to recall the good times but all he heard in his head was the nasally drone of Nicole's bitching. From their first date at an expensive restaurant, when she'd complained to Jimmy that the food "tasted like dog vomit," the out-of-his-league milquetoast had endured constant nagging, delivered in a tone that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"All she ever does is harp; any little thing sets her off. Then again, you've put up with it this long and it hasn't killed you -- but do you really want that for the rest of your life? To constantly be nagged at? No. Hell no. You've only got so much time left on this earth, Jimmy. Fuck this, shit -- go to Winnipeg."

Jimmy tried to turn the ignition key but his hand wouldn't move. He glared at himself again.

"You goddamn idiot -- are you crazy? What are you even thinking? Don't you realize how lucky you are to have a beautiful wife like Nicole? You think women like that grow on trees? You think an ugly, pimply-faced dickhead like you would ever luck out like that again? No, that's impossible because she's one-of-a-kind. Those eyes... those cat-green eyes -- you could never leave her and you know it. She's all you ever wanted -- why would you even want to leave?"

Jimmy gritted his teeth.

"Ugh, you know the answer to that, stupid-ass. What the fuck. There are a million reasons you should dump that bitch."

On their fifth date, after killing a bottle of wine, Nicole suggested they confess their deepest secrets, "to build trust." Jimmy went first and told his new gal pal that he'd sucked his classmate's dick after getting hammered at a party during his freshman year in college. Nicole reciprocated by revealing that she'd once eaten cat food on a dare -- not exactly a shocking disclosure, and Jimmy felt like a sap for having volunteered such a closely-held, embarrassing tidbit, only for her to come back with something so lame and impersonal.

As his relationship with Nicole progressed, Jimmy got used to feeling like a sap.

"You should've known how she was when she told you to pee sitting down because you dribbled a little on the toilet seat. What kind of woman wants her boyfriend to do that? And what kind of man does it?"

Blinking twice, Jimmy reminded himself that there were good times, too. He recalled their carnival date when he won a huge stuffed bear because the guy in the booth had guessed his weight wrong. He remembered the trendy self-help seminars and ashrams he and Nicole attended early in their relationship, and their nights out at nice restaurants.

"Don't fool yourself, asshole -- a geek like you would've never gotten past hello with a woman that beautiful if you hadn't been an executive manager at Triumph Industries making twenty grand a year. You both know you were lucky to land her, which is why she's had you pussywhipped from the start. You never get to fuck your own wife, dude. Ever. Think about how messed-up that is. She only lets you lick her pussy once every few months -- and by the way, you know damn well that wasn't clam chowder this morning, you stupid motherfucker. It's embarrassing that you'd even try to tell yourself that. You know what cum tastes like -- you've slurped up enough of your own after jacking off, you sick, perverted bastard."

Jimmy's eyes drifted downward toward his lap. He gulped with shame as he contemplated the minuscule bump in his jeans.

"Keep your head in the sand all you want to, dumbass, but she's fucking Mike. Hell, she hasn't even tried to hide it. It's almost like she's been daring you to say something to force a confrontation that would allow her to run off with the son-of-a-bitch. But... last night at the bar, she seemed weird. So did Mike."

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Jimmy pondered the previous evening's strange turn of events.

"Something changed after they came out of Mike's office. You could tell by the way they were talking to you. Think about it, dude: the dynamic has shifted. Nicole and Mike need you now, because for whatever reason, Red has some weird, sadomasochistic attraction to you. The fat, crazy bastard is the greatest guy in the world to most people, but according to Nicole, he finds one weakling to fuck with -- and he picked you because that's exactly what you are, Jimmy: a goddamn weakling. Red could smell it on you the minute he saw you. Marlene always says the same thing -- that she had you pegged as a loser from day one. Nicole probably did, too, although she isn't the first woman to marry a guy she didn't respect because he made good money."

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Jimmy thought of all the suspected affairs during his five-year marriage to the former Harvest Springs High School cheerleader. The first time was a few weeks after the wedding, when Jimmy ran into Nicole's friend Tammy in the drugstore when she was supposed to be at the theater with his wife seeing "Love Story." When Nicole got home from her "dinner and a movie with Tammy," the devastated husband detected the unmistakable scent of Hai Karate. Another time Nicole was gone all night, returning home after noon the next day with the cockamamie excuse that her car had conked out on a desolate stretch of highway, and that she'd waited all night before anyone had stopped to help.

"Dude, you really need to wake the fuck up. Throughout this entire relationship, she's treated you like a dog -- and then the minute you lose your job, she starts talking divorce. She and her bitch mother have made your life miserable since you moved into that old cunt's basement. And since Mike came back in the picture, Nicole has pretty much had one foot out the door. Of course, now that there's a chance you could start making good money again, she'll stick around -- but you'll have to prostitute yourself to some deranged, sadistic homosexual who gets his kicks humiliating you. If she loved you, would she ask you to do that? LOOK AT YOURSELF, ASSHOLE! Would she? Hell no, she wouldn't. She doesn't love you, man. She never did, and you fucking well know it. Just leave the bitch, Jimmy; she sure as hell was gonna leave you before Red brought all this up. How much of this shit are you gonna put up with? Start a new life, already. Take the money and get the fuck out of here. Everything's cheaper in Canada, and five grand would go a long way. It's all there in front of you. All you've got to do is take it."

Scratching the back of his neck, Jimmy gazed at the pair of burlap sacks on the passenger's-side floorboard.

"Why did Mike want you to deposit this money in the first damn place? And why did he suggest that you could take the cash and run off to Canada or Mexico? Was that more than just a joke? Was he giving you an out, knowing you wouldn't have the balls to go through with it, and that you'd be even more submissive after you chose to stay in a fucked-up, humiliating situation? Is Mike even that devious? He doesn't seem to be; he's more of a frontal-assault kind of an asshole. Mike doesn't bother with innuendoes -- he makes it perfectly clear that he thinks you're a joke. He bullies you, dogs you around and calls you Pee-Wee in front of your wife and everyone else. And you don't do a damn thing about it. No matter what he or anyone else says or does, no matter how mean they are to you, you're too much of a pussy to stand up for yourself. You just smile that fake-ass smile and put up with it all. What the fuck, Jimmy. What's wrong with you? Are you seriously that pathetic? Why do you let everyone walk all over you?"

Northbound State Highway Sixty-Four was a straight shot to the Canadian border, about three hundred miles north of Harvest Springs. Jimmy squinted at the sundrenched road, imagining himself zooming northbound at breakneck speed with the wind in his hair and "Born To Be Wild" blasting from the speakers -- and then in his mind's eye he saw the Gremlin skidding into a median and exploding, throwing out a spectacular fireball.

"Is there a way you can stay married to Nicole and turn this situation to your advantage? What if Mike was telling the truth? What if he really does plan to give you more job responsibilities -- and maybe even more money -- because Red wants you to stick around? Mike obviously wants to keep Red happy, and Nicole wants to keep Mike happy. You're the key to making all that happen, Jimmy. You hold all the power. If you leave, Red's going to be pissed, and Mike and Nicole won't like that. So, maybe, if you can somehow just close your eyes, take your mind elsewhere and let the fat bastard do whatever he wants to you once a week, you can reap some major, major benefits. As long as Red wants you around, you'll be able to hold your marriage together and make a ton of money in the process. It ain't gonna kill you, Jimmy. You've done worse for free."

A heavyset businessman waddled out of the First National Bank toward the parking lot. Jimmy glanced at the guy's crotch and wondered what Red Corrigan's cock looked like.

"Ugh, the motherfucker's repulsive. Then again, Ronnie wasn't exactly Robert Redford, and you sucked him off -- and, as Nicole said, you did that without getting paid a dime. It's not like you never fantasize about sucking cock, Jimmy, don't lie to yourself. Dude, you could make a lot of money with this crazy shit Red's proposing. He's already a jerk to you anyway -- so what if you have to blow the guy once a week? Imagine what twenty-six grand a year could do, on top of what you'll be making at the bar."

Jimmy reminded himself that money wouldn't solve all his problems -- although he had to admit that a lot of issues could be fixed if he was bringing home that kind of dough.

Nicole would lighten up if you got us out of her mom's house. Marlene's a bad influence on her, so not being around that bitch every day would be a huge help in and of itself. You need to at least think about this, Jimmy. Maybe cleaning Red's house once a week and giving him some 'extras' won't be so bad, if it means everything else in your life will get better. You sure as hell need to do something, because you can't keep going on like this. So, either start the car and hit the road, or else get off your ass and deposit this cash, go home to your beautiful wife -- and in the long run you'll make a hell of a lot more money than the measly five grand that's in these stupid bags, and for better or worse, you'll get to keep your marriage. Nicole is the one you've always dreamed of, Jimmy. Yeah, she can be difficult -- the pretty ones always are. This is it, man. If you're gonna leave her, then do it. Otherwise, stop driving yourself crazy like this. Shit or get off the pot, you asshole."

Closing his eyes because he was too embarrassed to look at his reflection, Jimmy conjured up an image of his wife's angelic face... her perfect, white smile... her cute, little button nose...

The lovestruck weakling wiggled out of his Gremlin, trudged to the other side of the car and lifted both bags from the floorboard. As he struggled with his heavy load, Jimmy lumbered into the bank, twisting his grimace into something meant to resemble a smile.