Nowhere to Run Ch. 03

Lunch? Check. Bus pass? Check. Keys? Check. Maggie was ready to head into town. She was excited today and smiled at the white, electric stove next to her fridge. While it was very much loved, it was still new to her. No more takeout. No more microwaved garbage. After flipping a few burgers for seven and a half hours, she'd stop by the grocery store to purchase the necessary ingredients for her very first home-cooked meal and be back on the bus home before it even got dark. She still had one more thing to do, though; check the windows.

It had been a month since that guy had invaded her home, and she'd long since accepted the reality that he'd said what he said about coming back just to scare her. In reality, he was the one who was probably scared. She'd gotten a good look at him and called the police in spite of his threats. By now, he was probably long gone and found some new place in another state to take his shits. Despite firmly believing this, she pushed up hard on each window from the outside. Not only were they locked, they had a piece of wood positioned to physically prevent them from opening. The only way to get through was to force them open, and that was something Maggie would notice.

"Maggie!"

From across the street, a woman way too old for the clothes she was wearing ran from across the street onto Maggie's front lawn. Maggie was too polite to ask how old she was but, judging by the unconvincing deep red head of hair she sported, she was probably a touchy subject. Her pantie shown right through her extremely tight leggings, and her top --mimicking some kind of animal camouflage -- did its best to keep her rolls in check. Maggie adored this woman.

"Ms. June. It's October. Where's your coat?"

June waved a dismissive, cigarette-wielding hand. "I'm glad I caught you. Jimmy came home last night, and just woke up. It'll only take ten minutes."

"June, I --"

"Five! My brother's really good at this kind of stuff."

June loved to talk, and most everything that came out of her mouth was an exaggeration. She loved her brother so, obviously, she'd talk up his talent as an artist as much as she could. But when he was done drawing her burglar and she was staring back at either an 8th grader's interpretation of a human face or something that looked like half of the local male population, what was she supposed to say? In the end, she didn't have it in her to hurt anyone's feelings.

"Okay," Maggie conceded. "But I gotta go right to work after. No drinks. No Maury. I gotta go."

"Fine, fine. Come on now!" June wrapped an arm around hers and practically dragged her up the street.

The walk was short. Her house sat hidden behind a wall of narrow trees, and her yard was covered in lawn chairs and the toys of her nieces, nephews, and probably a few grandchildren. Next to her peeling, red rambler sat a not-often-present addition, though. There was a beat-up RV in her gravel driveway with drawn curtains and its license plate numbers in a back window.

"Jimmy? Jimmy!" She repeatedly slapped a window. "Don't tell me he fell back asleep." She snatched the RV door open and went in first. "Wake up! She's here." Maggie waited outside while June ranted. "I don't care if you were half asleep when you said you would. A promise is a promise. What if this creep came after your big sister?" Whatever his response, she didn't like it. "Just do it!" June stuck her head out and smiled. "He just needs a m--" she was cut off by her ringtone and quickly picked up. "Hey girl....I told you. Didn't I tell you?...So, what ended up happening?"

As if forgetting Maggie was even there, June stepped out of the RV and over to her own home closing the door behind her. She could still hear her talking from outside.

Maggie braced herself. She was not looking forward to the next five minutes. Opening the door, she stepped into the main cabin that was a bachelor pad and tattoo parlor all smashed into one. "Hey Jimmy."

"Have a seat, Maggie," he pointed without much inflection.

Jimmy was a tattoo artist, and took his business with him wherever his went. It was maybe not the most hygienic option, but people clearly liked his work as the man was able to feed himself at least. He was an absolute unit of a man. He wasn't just tall. He carried about three hundred and fifty pounds on a solid bone frame. Like most other men out here, he had a beard but absolutely nothing up top. It was free real estate after all. The man had quite a bit of ink on his person; especially on his arms, which made him eye-catching for sure. But this wasn't Maggie's first time meeting him. When hanging out in the main house with June, he'd come and go without a word, retrieving a bite to eat or using the bathroom before growing tired of all of the children and leaving. This was, however, the first time she'd been inside of his place. The walls all around his kitchenette were covered with extremely impressive, framed designs wherever they'd fit, and a well-worn photo album sat on a nearby countertop with even more presumably. There was this subtle yet persistent smell of rubbing alcohol throughout and lights bright enough to singe an eyebrow clean off.

Maggie took a seat in the only place available; a reclining leather seat mounted in the very center of his place. "Wow, these are really ni..."

"Let's just get it over with." He had a pad of paper and a pencil ready and stared at Maggie with tired, impatient eyes.

She didn't keep him waiting and immediately started describing every detail she could remember about the nude invader. Jimmy was quick and attentive, asking questions that Maggie hadn't even considered like how sunken in his eyes were and if they were yellow.

"Where his teeth crooked, crowded, or spread apart?"

"Why?" Maggie asked, not exactly wanting a picture of her assailant grinning back at her.

"Well, he was smiling at you the whole damn time, right? If that's how you saw the man, then that's how you saw him."

She supposed she agreed.

"Any visible liver spots? Was his hair curly or just wild?"

Maggie answered all questions and, minutes later, was shown the results. After a few more minutes of narrowing the face and the bridge of his nose, heightening some cheekbones, and darkening some spots, they had their man.

"It's...good."

"I was going for accurate."

"That's him."

"Great, perfect. You can go now."

And, just like that, she was being tossed out by a man who seemed irrationally irritated at her very existence. She shrugged and got up. "It's hard to believe you and June are related when she's so nice and you're so damn mean."

It was a little comment; one that was meant to sting but no more than that. However, Maggie found her wrist gripped tightly in one of his hands while the other held her against the door. Unlike June, he didn't yell. He never raised his voice, in fact. But something about what she said had set his temper on fire. "Mean, huh? The only reason you're even talking to me is because you want something. That's how you city women always act. You can't be social unless you want something for nothing. But I'm mean."

Maggie looked up at him. "Not like you guys. You all have such a great reputation for not expecting anything in return. A good deed can't just be a good deed. It's got to be rewarded, right?"

"Ain't that the way the world works? You do things, you get stuff. What am I getting out of this?" He looked her up and down, moved her hand lower, and made her stick it on his crotch. "Maybe that's something we should talk about."

Maggie didn't break eye contact. "Your sister saw me walking along that narrow road to the bus stop and offered me a ride to Dunkirk since she was heading that way anyway." She wrinkled her nose at him. "You think I had to eat her pussy on the way there as repayment? Sometimes, people are just nice."

The stink was still on his face, but he loosened his grip on her wrist allowing her to slip it away. He backed up, and she sighed internally in relief.

"Out."

She was about to. But something didn't sit right with her about the confrontation. She turned back. "I guess you're right about one thing. Never in a million years would I have had anything to do with you, let alone talk to you. You always look like you're about to break someone's jaw or worse. But," she rested a hand on her hip, "you did help me out when you didn't have to. I'd like to pay you back for that at least."

He seemed genuinely surprised. Even a little skeptical, but, when she didn't laugh it off or take it back, he went for it. "Alright. Bed's in the back."

"I meant with something like dinner, jeez." Maggie rolled her eyes. "I just got my new oven and was going to cook something tonight. Maybe I could fix you a plate?"

"I ain't no tiny man. You can keep your little bowl of Quinoa or whatever you rich city girls eat."

"Why do you keep calling me that? I'm not rich, and I don't live in the city. I'm the same as you."

"You and me ain't nothing alike. This county is my home, and I love it but, to you, you're stuck out here, and it'll never be good enough. Just because I don't say anything when I go inside doesn't mean I don't hear you talking with June about how small your place is and how sad it is that your daddy didn't even have the common courtesy to furnish a house you don't have to share with a bunch of snot-nosed nieces and nephews. Must be nice to drop out of a college I never would have had the option to go to in the first place, and it's obvious you think you're too good to work for seven dollars an hour. That's right, Maggie. I see you."

Maggie stood there with her arms crossed and a deadpan look on her face. "It'll be chicken. Is that 'good enough' for you?"

He gestured her toward the door again and, this time, she just left. The five minutes this was supposed to have taken ended up taking twenty, and she still had a bus to catch. On the other hand, the encounter went better than she expected.