Chapter Six
Rosella had determined the best thing to do with the money was to rent a car. Taking a plane was out, since a direct flight from Macon to Biloxi was unheard of and tickets bought the day of the trip usually cost the earth. Taking another bus was too slow and the next one didn’t leave until tomorrow, anyway. Amtrak was even slower than the bus and she hated trains. She figured with a good car she might even beat Christa there. So long as she didn’t get pulled over for speeding, of course. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. However, there was no sense traveling on an empty stomach. Her pantry wasn’t much stocked, but she did manage to find a package of Ramen noodles. Cheap, fast, and salty - if they weren’t so bad for you, they’d be the perfect food. She put some water on to boil and went to go pack, nearly tripping over the damn cat in the process. He fluffed up his tail in protest and dashed towards Balki, swatting him in the nose and then running under the bed. She choked back a laugh, not wanting to offend Balki’s dignity. There were times she wanted to wring the pets’ necks, but they made up for it by being entertaining. She threw a few things in a duffel bag, including a small picture of Rory and Christa as children, their smiles showing gaps from missing baby teeth. She thought of it as a good luck charm and took it with her whenever she went anywhere.
Her water was boiling, so she crunched up the noodles and threw them in. She got a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge and poured herself a glass. She took a sip and immediately felt cooler. It was October, but unseasonably warm, even for Georgia. She couldn’t afford to have the air conditioning turned on all year, though. It reminded her of the fall she’d met Johnny. They were both in high school, but she was just a freshman while he was senior. She’d caught his eye early on, and by that October she was his girl. She’d felt so special, being chosen by a guy so much older than she was. He was so sweet to her, too. For two years it had gone on like that. She’d reached a point in her life where she could recall the beginning and smile without it being tainted by everything that had happened afterwards. So long as she didn’t let her mind wander too far away from the high school era.
She took the pot off the burner and added the little seasoning packet to the noodles, then poured them into a bowl. She’d fed her kids this same meal for lunch many a weekend, but both of them professed to hate it, now. They made fun of her for not knowing how to cook much that didn’t involve throwing noodles in a pot of boiling water. Well, she’d never had to cook at home, growing up. Once she moved out and married Johnny, he’d been doing for himself so long that he just kept up the cooking. He’d been gone a long time, but she felt no real inclination to learn. She did alright.
She breathed in the salty steam and slurped down the bowl. It was time to go ask Mr. Anderson to watch Larry and Balki. She’d take Balki with her, but Cujo was gonna be there and she didn’t want any fights breaking out. Balki didn’t like other dogs much. She went out the kitchen door and walked the ten yards to Mr. Anderson’s house. He was outside, as usual, sitting on his porch.
“Hey there, Mr. Anderson. I wondered if I could ask a favor from you.”
“Hey yourself, Rosella. You want me to watch your cat?”
“Why, how did you know? Dog and cat, actually.”
“Oh, come on now. You know you never ask for nothin else. How long you gonna be gone?”
“I don’t really know. Probably a day or so.”
“Where ya headed? Visiting Rory?”
“Not exactly. Christa’s gotten herself into a heap of trouble and I’m fixin to go down to Biloxi and help her.”
“Oh, my! Mind if I ask what she’s done?”
He was a sweet old man, but he sure was nosy.
“It’s complicated. I’m not real sure I’m supposed to say much. Her boyfriend is gone and she thinks she might find him there.”
“Well, now. That does sound complicated. If he’s gone and left her and didn’t tell her where he went, why would she want to follow him? Tell the girl to get some pride!”
“It’s not really like that, Mr. Anderson. She’s afraid he may be in trouble. He didn’t even take his truck.”
“I see. Well, tell her I say hello. Larry and Balki still take the same amount of food and everything?”
“No, Larry is on a diet so he gets the low calorie cat food. Try not to let him near Balki’s food when you feed him; he’ll eat that and bully the dog away. Thank you for your help, I’m off to rent a car.”
“You’re quite welcome, Rosella. Good luck with finding the young man. I’ve still got my key.”
She hurried back inside. She liked Mr. Anderson (she wasn’t sure she even knew his first name) but she really hadn’t felt like bringing up kidnapping. No need to air all the dirty laundry, or whatever it was. Her own note had disturbed her enough to know that, whoever was doing this, they knew the family. How else could they know about Rory? And how had they gotten the note into the trailer’s kitchen, where she was sure it hadn’t been before, if they were supposedly waiting in Biloxi? If they were lucky, they’d beat whoever it was there and have the advantage of being there first.
She’d have to take a city bus to the car rental place, unless she wanted to leave the Geo in the parking lot, paying fees for God knew how long, but she had no real idea where the bus stops were or what time they generally came. She got out the phonebook to call the bus line. The lady on the other end told her a bus would be at a corner a block away in half an hour.
Suddenly, she remembered she still wasn’t wearing any makeup. What must Mr. Anderson have thought! She almost never left the house with her face naked like that. She went to her bedroom and unzipped her makeup bag. Face powder came first. She worried that since it’d gotten harder to see things up close, she wore too much powder and it only made her look older. She’d tried using a magnifying mirror but that was just frightening. She preferred not to know that much about her pores. Next came lipstick, a bright red shade that she’d worn for as long as she could remember. Without it her lips seemed faded. Possibly she was just used to the red and her mouth was a normal color, but they looked very pale to her. She made an O with her lips and circled them with the tube of lipstick, then pressed a piece of tissue to her face to remove the excess just like her mama had taught her. Lastly, she put her mascara on, being careful of clumps. Two coats.
Her face in the mirror looked like her own again. She felt oddly relieved. Living alone so long was making her neurotic.
Who was this guy? She’d racked her brain ever since leaving the trailer. Someone who knew Christa, knew Rosella’s first name, knew of Rory, knew where Derek lived, and knew that she couldn’t afford to get to Biloxi without help. She felt deeply uneasy. She couldn’t think of hardly any people who knew all that, and she knew of no people who knew all that and were capable of bringing down someone of Derek’s size and strength. Without making a sound, apparently. She couldn’t come up with a thing that made any sense. Not one thing. To be truthful, she was more than uneasy. Rosella was afraid.
Had this been ten years ago, she’d have crawled inside a bottle by now and ignored the situation until it was gone or at least seemed less awful. The idea still sounded tempting, but she had gotten pretty good at ignoring thoughts of that kind. She remembered quite well enough what solving her problems that way had been like. If that wasn’t enough to quell any desires, just thinking about the consequences if Christa or Rory ever found out would do the trick. They’d never forgive her, and rightly so.
It was funny, the way their life had been. The cliché was of the drunken husband, beating his wife while the kids looked on and hoped they weren’t next. Their reality had been slightly different - Johnny never drank a drop, and she’d been the alcoholic. It made the abuse easier to accept, probably, since she felt she likely deserved it for being such a shitty wife and mother. Frankly, she wasn’t sure how she’d survived all those years. Suicide had seemed attractive for a long time, but she never made an attempt. She liked to think that was for the kids’ sake, but it was probably just cowardice.
Never mind all that, she was sober now and hadn’t even laid eyes on Johnny since...well, it’d been a long time. All this stress had brought the past roaring back as though it had only happened last week. Her life now resembled her life then only in that she still had kids. No money (they’d had plenty, once), no husband, no liquor, no lies. Now, she could be of help to her daughter. It was time to go.