Chapter Seven (Cj)

“Cj, wake up.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Wake up.”

“Hmmmmmmmm.”

“Wake up.”

I roll over and turn the other way. “Go away. I’m sleeping,” comes out as “Gahhhh ughhhwy. Ib sleeeeeming.”

“You’re not gonna be for much longer. Wake up, or I will carry you out of the cabin myself.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine.”

I’m suddenly picked up and tossed around like a rag doll. Now, I’m wide awake.

“Tucker, what the hell are you doing? Put me down. I’m half naked, for f**k’s sake!” I scramble to cover myself up on the bottom half with the blanket he’s cocooned me in. I’m wearing a hoodie and it covers most of me, but still. My hair’s in my face, but I can make out the details of my cabin as I swing by over his shoulder.

“There’s clothes in the truck. I told you to wake up, but you’re not a very good listener.”

“That doesn’t mean you f*****g kidnap me half dressed out of bed. Jesus, what are you, a caveman?”

“Something like that. I grabbed a cup of coffee and pack of Camels for you at the gas station.” He finally makes it out to the truck and dumps me in the passenger seat, where I see a pair of shorts sitting on the seat. I quickly pull them on just as he makes it over to the driver’s side.

“Wonderful. Now tell me what the hell is going on,” I grumble as I pull the sweatshirt tighter to my body.

“You’ll see in a couple of hours. Drink the coffee, or go back to sleep. Either way, I’m not telling you until at least three hours in,” he replies cheerfully, putting the truck in drive.

F*****g morning people.

“What time of the day is it anyways?” I ask, selecting a cigarette from the pack and lighting up.

        “Four thirty in the morning.”

        “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

        He glances over at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nope.”

        “I hope you’re happy. You’ve officially ruined my morning, and it started ten minutes ago.”

        “I think you need to lighten up. Finish the cigarette, and go back to sleep. I grabbed a pillow and blanket for you, figuring you’d be less than thrilled with me. Here.”

        He reaches back, grabbing the pillow and my favorite camo blanket, depositing them in my lap. We drive on in silence for about ten minutes, smoke filling up the cab, the stars in the sky a road map to nowhere. I’m surprised I don’t see the first rays of sunlight filtering through the windshield. But then again, that’s not too rare for late August.

Finishing my cigarette, I put the butt in an empty pop can. Tuck’s been bitching at me for throwing them out the window.

Snatching the pillow from my lap, I lean it against the window and rest my head on it, watching the dark countryside roll by. Covering up with the blanket, the last thought I have before I drift back to sleep is one of uneasiness.

   ***

When I wake up, there’s a bright beam of sunlight directly in my eyes. Blinking slowly, I push myself into a sitting position and stretch, feeling the hoodie creep up the lining of my stomach. My mouth tastes like a stale ashtray, and I need a cup of coffee.

“Mornin’ princess.”

I my head to see Tucker grinning at me, his dark hair curling over the edge of his backwards ball cap. Flipping him the finger, I take the hair tie off my wrist and put my crazy hair in a crappy bun.

“How’d you sleep?”

Glaring at him, I reach for a cigarette. “Like s**t. I need a cup of coffee, and I’ve gotta pee. That’s what happens when you’re ungraciously woken up at four thirty in the f*****g morning.”

His deep laugh rumbles through the cab. God, I want to punch him.

“C’mon Peggy. It’s not that bad. Have some fun.”

The clock on the dash reads 10:35 am. I take a drag on my cigarette before I bother answering. “My idea of fun isn’t being dragged out of bed by a goddamn caveman. The least you could do was buy me breakfast after copping a feel.”

He holds up a box of Kwik Trip glazed donuts in response. Snatching the box out of his hand, I nab a donut and start eating it in between cigarette puffs. “I hope my a*s felt great, ‘cause that’s the last time you’re ever gonna touch it.”

“Okay.”

Glancing out the window for the first time, I notice that we’re surrounded by water and on a huge bridge. “Tuck, where are we? I’ve never been here before.”

“St. Ignace, Michigan. Technically, we’re in the middle of the Straits of Mackinac. In a couple of minutes we’ll be in Mackinaw City.”

I snort, looking over at him. “Yeah, okay dude. And I’m a monkey’s uncle. At least the water’s pretty.”

Pulling out my phone, I snap a couple of photos just as the bridge is ending. I look back over at him to find him watching me, his light brown eyes never leaving mine.
        “Cj, I’m serious. We’re in Mackinaw City. Look.” He points over to a huge “Welcome to historic Mackinaw City” sign.

My heart plummets down to my stomach and I can hardly breathe. I don’t know if I like where this is going.

“Pull over,” I whisper calmly, my voice deathly quiet.

“Cj, why don’t we--”

“Pull over. Now.”

He obliges, pulling into the parking lot of a Shell station. His smile has disappeared, and he looks like he wishes he were anywhere but here. Heaven help this man when I’m through with him.

“First thing’s first. I have to pee. You’re going to help me into the gas station, you’re gonna buy me a cup of coffee, and then you’re gonna explain what the hell is going on.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t ‘yes ma’am’ me with your charming southern accent right now. I’m about ready to punch you. Did you bring my chair?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suggest you grab it and help me into it before I lose my s**t.”

He hops down from the truck and retrieves my wheelchair from the back of cab, setting it down on the ground. He looks across at me, unsure of what to do. “Do you want me to....?”

I close my eyes and count to ten silently in my head before I answer him. “I need you to pick me up and place me in my chair, yes. If we had taken my truck, this wouldn’t be a problem. However, you have a six inch lift in yours to make up for penis size. If you grab my a*s again, I will personally cut your nuts off with a rusty spoon. I might add your dick in there for good measure.”

He hesitantly scoops me up and places me in my chair, towering over me before stepping back and standing awkwardly to the side. I don’t blame him. Right now, I’m a hundred and twenty pounds of pure, redheaded fury. I’d be terrified too.

“Do you need me to push you?”
        I grit my teeth and start rolling. “I’ve been doing this for six years now. I think I’ve got it by now,” I spit out, venom dripping from my voice. “Open the door please.”

Quickly locating the bathrooms, I roll in and go about my business. When I reappear, I see Tuck’s got an extra large cup of coffee in his one hand and a bag of chocolate covered pretzels in the other, next in line for the cashier. I go to grab a breakfast sandwich before I realize I don’t have my wallet.

Damn it Tucker.

 I’m about to put it back when I decide to make him pay for it anyways. Rolling up to the counter behind him, I lob the sandwich in the direction of cashier. It knocks over the Monster Tucker’s grabbed.

“Throw that on his bill, please,” I tell the cashier sweetly before glaring at Tuck, but he doesn’t see me. He’s avoiding all eye contact at this point.

“Sounds good. That’ll be $8.37, please.”

Tuck swipes his card while the cashier bags all of our stuff. He hands me my coffee before he holds the door open so I can pass.

Placing me in the front seat of the truck, he puts my wheelchair in the back before sliding into the driver’s side and starting the truck. Taking a drink of the lukewarm coffee, I set it down in a cup holder before turning to scowl at him. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you in a couple of minutes.”

“No. Tell me now.”

“I said I’ll tell you in a couple minutes, and I will.”

“Fine.”

He drives around for a bit before pulling into the parking lot of a place called the Wawatam Park. He jumps out before walking around to my side and opening the back door. We go through the whole process again of putting me in my chair. Grabbing my coffee and the shopping bag, he leads me to a picnic table underneath a large tree, where he sits down and starts munching on his pretzels.

“Seriously Tuck, I’m gonna ask you one more time. What the hell is going on? Did you need a vacation or what?” I unwrap my sandwich and take a bite, sausage, egg, and cheese filling my mouth. God, that’s good.

His black hair ruffles in the wind and falls into his eyes, blocking my view of them. “No. You do.”

My sandwich stops in mid air, halfway to my mouth. “Come again?”

He sighs and puts the rest of the pretzels back in the bag, instead taking a drink of his Monster. He’s quiet for a couple of minutes before he responds. I watch as his eyes drink in the shore line, avoiding mine.

Suddenly, I’m not that hungry.

“You need a vacation, Cj. You need to get out and see the world.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure kidnapping me at four in the morning was the solution to all of this. Next time, just make me watch National Geographic.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“So what, you’re gonna hold me hostage until I have fun? Fine. I’m having fun. Let’s go home.” I grab my sandwich and coffee and start wheeling towards the truck, popping a cigarette in my mouth.

“No.”

That stops me.

Turning around, I look at Tucker, feeling my temper rising. “What the hell do you mean, no?”

“No.”

“Tucker, I want to go home.”
        “No.” He stands up and stares me down, crossing his arms.

“What the hell gives you the right to drag me out of bed and bring me out to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and then refuse to take me home? Is this some kind of joke?” I can feel myself becoming hysterical with pure anger now.

“Cj, I need you to take a deep breath right now. Everything is gonna be okay. You just need to relax,” he states calmly.

“Relax? RELAX?! That’s f****n’ rich, Tucker. I honestly thought we were just going up to Lake Superior fishing or something. Now, I’m six hours away from home, I don’t have my wallet, and no one besides you knows where I am. We’ve been friends for a few months, but for all I know, you’re the next Ed Gein. I’m gonna end up as a lampshade.” Moaning, I bury my head in my hands and feel the tears come to my eyes.

“Cj, I need you to look at me.”

“No.”

He reaches a hand out, but I smack it away, pushing myself back. The tears stream down my face. “You didn’t even f*****g ask me to go. You just assumed that because I’m at home all the time, I need to get out more. My life was fine just the way it was. I told you I want to travel, but now’s not a good time.”

“Cj, if you’re not gonna go now while you have the opportunity, when are you going to go? I’m giving you a chance to come with me right now. Why is right now not a good time?”

When I don’t respond, he sits down across from me and tries to catch my eyes. “Is it about the cost? I’ve got it completely covered, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not.”

“What is it then?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me.”

“It’s terrifying, okay? I’d be leaving on a trip with a guy I’ve known for three months. The small town rumor mill is gonna fly. People talk enough s**t about me already. Not only that, I’m not going to experience anything like a normal person. Everyone’s gonna stare at me for being in a wheelchair or for having a fake leg, and I hate all the sympathetic and pitying looks I get wherever I go. It sounds really stupid, but that’s why.” I think he’s going to roll his eyes and tell me to toughen up, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he places a hand under my chin and forces me to look up at him. This time, I let him. I feel the tears still leaking out, but his eyes have a calming effect on me and I begin to breath normally.

“Listen. Your wallet is in the truck, along with your prosthetic leg and sleeve, some clothes, and toiletries. We can turn the truck around right now and head back to Wisconsin if you want to, but something tells me you don’t. You’re just scared. C’mon Cj. What have you got to lose?”

Not thinking, I bite my lip, and a tear slips out before I can stop it. Tucker wipes it away with his thumb, his skin rough against my cheek. I slowly let out a shaky breath and scowl at him.

“I’m gonna call Joe and let him know that I’m with you, considering everyone is going to be wondering where the hell I am. I’m not ending up as someone’s living room furniture.”

   ***

By the time we make it to Ludington, Michigan, it’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon. My legs are stiff from riding in the truck for close to twelve hours, and I’ve been so stressed out that I made Tucker pull over so I could buy a few Monsters and a carton of Camels. I’m currently starting my second pack of the day.

“Relax, Peggy. We’re not even done with our first day on the road, and you already look like you need a vacation from this vacation,” Tucker frowns at me through the rear view mirror, putting the truck in park. We’re stopped at the Ludington State Park.

“Please stop calling me Peggy. It’s clever, but honestly not that funny.”

“Alright.”

He swings out of the truck and walks over to my side to help me down. Lifting up his hand, he looks at me funny when I don’t take it.

“I’m taking my wheelchair. Put your hand down. You look funny,” I grumble, swatting it away.

“You can’t take your chair.”

“What do you mean? Of course I can.”

“No, you can’t. For what I have planned, you actually need your leg.” Tucker stares down at the ground and kicks at an imaginary rock.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. What am I gonna be doing, running?” Grabbing the prosthetic leg, sleeve, and alcohol spray from the back seat, I go about jamming the stupid thing on.

“No, but you’re gonna have to climb some stairs. And walk through some sand to get there.”

Carefully climbing out of the truck, I squish my leg down in the plastic part of the prosthetic until all the air is out. God, I hate this thing.

 Studying my leg for a moment, he gestures towards a sandy beach and Lake Michigan off in the distance. “Shall we?”

“Fine.”

I’ve got on a good pair of sneakers, but trudging through the sand is difficult, especially keeping up with Tucker’s long strides. Actually, Tuck looks like he’s having a hard time himself. He looks a little bit like a wobbly calf on its legs for the first time.

“Can’t handle the sand, old man?”

In response, he slows down so I can catch up to him. “No, we’re just on a time crunch. I forgot to switch out my boots for tennis shoes, that’s all.”

I look down to see he’s got his old pair of s**t kickers still on.

“Why are we in a hurry?”

He points to a structure off in the distance, back a ways from the water. Squinting, I can just make out the huge white and black stripes. “What is that?” I ask, though I’m sure I already know.

“The Big Sable Point Lighthouse. The tour ends at five.”

“It’s 2:30 right now, Speedy Gonzalez. I’m sure we’ll make it there in time.”

“Maybe, but you have a prosthetic limb, and there are a hundred and thirty steps to the top of the tower. It’s almost a two mile walk. It might take a while,” he replies, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“So you decided to pick an extremely strenuous activity for our first day out and about? My legs is gonna be so fucked by the time we’re done.”

“I should have thought about something more accessible. I’m sorry.”

Sighing, I kick a through a sand dune with my good leg. “It’s not your fault. I try to go for a walk with the prosthetic on everyday to keep my mobility, but this is a tad more than I’m used to. I use my chair first thing in the morning, or when I’m tired. It’s just more comfortable.”

Turning around and looking down at me, I see the guilt flash in his eyes.“Like I said, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. You can pick something less adventurous tomorrow.”

Smirking, I stick my tongue out at him. “Fine, but you’re gonna clean out my sleeve and leg when we’re done tonight.”

“Wonderful.”

By the time we make it to the top of the lighthouse, I’ve thought of about a thousand different ways to kill Tucker for making me do this. However, when I see the view, all the murderous thoughts vanish.

Above us, the sky is a crystal clear blue, and off to my left, green tufts of grass peek out from the sandy dunes below. The water of Lake Michigan gently laps the shoreline, rushing in and out with a whisper. The tourists walking up the beach under us are ant size and scramble around, taking pictures and walking along the shore in bare feet.

“Hey Cj, smile.” Tucker’s got his cell phone pulled out, ready to take a picture.

And this time, I grin.