Reconciliation

She looked at him for a moment. A number of expressions passed her face but settled on shame. What she was doing seemed all fun and games until someone she knew knew about it. Now she had to look at herself through different eyes. She turned around and ran to the bedroom.

Reg took a look around. The place was decorated in Modern American Crap, pride of place to a large fishtank on a table next to the kitchenette peninsula.

She was gone only a couple of minutes. While she was gone, he heard a loud banging sound from the bedroom. She walked out with a suitcase and fragments of a smart phone which she dumped in the water.

"That's my PHONE bitc...OW!" Reg rubbed his toe across the carpet. He'd hit a bone with his toe. "Anything else?"

"He...he took my babysitting money...and my phone." She said in a small voice. "He said we needed it for dinner and stuff... It was $400." That was a lot of money to a teen.

Two swift kicks later and Reg pulled on Rick's hair. "Where is the money?" Silence. "Kelly, put the kettle on..."

Rick did a very quick assessment of Reggie's face and didn't like what he saw one little bit. "In a foil wrapper, dawg...in the freezer. Her phone is on top of the entertainment center."

Kelly went to the freezer and started pulling out foil packets, seeing mysterious lumps of wooden clumps of meat and freezer burn until "Oh my God! You have...thousands of dollars here! And you took my money?!? Do you have any idea how hard I worked for that money?" She quickly gathered her phone as well.

"Take what's yours and let's GO." Reg told her with a sense of urgency.

It was at this point that differing socio economic expectations let Reg down. Kelly was so shocked by recent events that she didn't think about it. To Reg's eyes, the trailer barely looked big enough for two people. That four would live here was unthinkable. So he fully expected that the two who left were going to some other home.

So he was shocked to hear a Challenger engine throbbing its way back to the trailer as Rick's two brothers returned from their cigarette run. Reg watched the two mulleted men eyeing his blue Mustang and the open door with some suspicion. Rick started to laugh behind him.

"Um...Kelly...would you mind handing me my bat real quick...?" Reg asked nervously and resignedly.

+

Reg groaned in the car. "You should see a doctor." Kelly said, appalled.

"No doctor. I need to get you home first. I'll...I'll just let you out and you run in."

"My mom and dad will take care of you!" She remonstrated.

"No! If they see me, they'll ash queshions." He glared at her. "How can you be so fucking stupid! You have two parents. You have a nish house. You have people who love you...and you deshided to throw that all 'way for dickweed? Some guy who schteals your money and takshs y'r pitcher? You have a MOM!"

She rubbed her sleeve across her eyes, fighting the sobs. "I'm sorry. He seemed so nice. Mom and Dad have so many rules. They drive me crazy. I'm a grown up!"

"Old enough to fuck, but not old enough to be smart. Don't you get it? You used to be Kelly Divecchio. The girl who did the artistic banners for homecoming. The girl with the pretty smile and nice parents. Now, if this gets out, you'll be Kelly the Drug Slut. You'll be the girl stupid enough to run away from her parents and...and try to hook up with a scumbag. When you make these choices, it's hard to find your way back. Trust me. You get...labeled. All these good righteous people will just shit on you forever for what you did and never ever let you forget it." His voice was bitter. "Now you're Kelly the Slut, Greg the Bully, Reggie the..." He stopped.

"Reggie the what?" She said, looking at him, her eyes wide, her expression rapt. She didn't like how the bruises were turning purple on his face.

"None of your business!" A splitting headache was causing him to be short. He glanced at her from his driving "This isn't about your dad. We're...we're not friends anymore. I know that. It's about...look...I ruined my life. I know it. I'm at the bottom of a deep hole and I can't get out. I'm not letting you make the same stupid mistakes I made. Not on my watch! So this is what happened. You went to shee Pauline and a couple of her college fr'nds who 'ere going to Cleveland. You were pissed at your parents and went on a road trip with them to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. If they ashk you what you saw there, ashk them who the Hell Jimmi Hendrixs was. They'll be so shocked they'll drop the subject. You went to a few clubs 'n crashed at one of the girlfriend's friends apartment. You don't remember the name. You make them work at it to get the fact you snuck into adult clubs and got drunk. Get the names figured out now! You need to be consistent. You need to get a promise from Pauline NOW! THIS NEVER HAPPENED! Later...much later...maybe you tell your mom the truth in private. You keep your head down, you do your damn homework an you keep your legs closed till you graduate!"

"Yes Uncle Reg." she said meekly. "What about Rick?"

"He's a dirt bag. He's a liar. Fuck him." And if necessary, Reg could stop by and have another 'word' with him. If he was stuck being the bad guy, there wasn't any reason he couldn't be a bad guy for a good cause. Maybe this time, he could pick up a gun first so he didn't get his ass handed to him AGAIN. These beatings were getting tedious.

They pulled up to the driveway. It was mostly empty of cars. No doubt everyone was out looking for the wayward girl. She hopped out of the car and started running for the front door. Reg muttered a curse. Stupid girl. She was going to mess with the plan.

Reg backed out. If he removed 'rescuing' him, she might actually stick to the story. She looked back horrified as he drove slightly swervingly down the road.

+

Shooting pains were going through his head as Reg drove up to his apartment. The streetlights were like shards shoved into his brain. He considered for a moment putting his sunglasses on but thought of how he would explain that to the police...along with his bruised face, fat lip and black eyes. Best not call attention to himself.

He pulled into his parking spot at his apartment and stepped out. He stood too fast and he had to bend over and vomit next to his car. Breathing carefully, he slowly walked to his door, using the wall for balance. He was thankful he lived on the first floor because he was sure his brain would come dribbling out his nose if he had to climb some steps.

It was time for him to REALLY relocate. Psychopaths, no friends, no life, nothing left. It was time to move. Start over. He took a moment to press his hand against the side of his head for some relief. Ow. That was a mistake!

Reg went to the kitchen and grabbed a large trash bag. Then he walked into his closet and started shoving his suits inside. The closet seemed oddly empty and his favorite clothes seemed to be missing. It rapidly filled. He walked back to the kitchen to get another bag out of the box. That bag quickly filled as well. He made the trip three times, pausing once to take 5 Advil in his bathroom and vomiting once again, which of course, necessitated taking 5 Advil again.

Time to mooove...ooonnn. He turned off the bedroom light and only left on the bathroom because it was too bright. Moving the bag to the car was hard and he didn't think he could make the trip for 4 bags. Slapping himself (and immediately regretting it) he got smart and went to his bed, dumped the suitcase there empty and piled the trash bags inside and on top of the bag. Fewer trips he thought proudly.

The car filled, he pulled out. He could have Jim...no...not Jim...not Phil...not anybody...somebody to mail his other stuff to him. California sounded like a good place...to...

.

Reg jerked himself upright. Couldn't drift off! How was he going to make it to California if he went to sleep? He could get a hotel just outside of town. It wasn't far but he needed to get...star... .

.

.

It was the lights, he thought to himself as he jerked himself awake. They made him want to close his eyes they were so bright. They needed to cut the voltage to...the...street...lights...

.

.

.

.

.

TREE!

Sad to say for those who hate Reg, there is a second part. If you are happy with this ending, stop reading here.

Apologies. I had no idea it was 8 pages long.