Never, Ever Bring This Up Again

This is a story about a woman who makes all the wrong choices, and it finally catches up with her.

 

Never, Ever Bring This Up Again

 

How cold was it on this February day? So cold that people’s windows froze up and pipes in their homes burst in small, delicate explosions. So cold that even the most diehard winter lovers didn’t venture out of doors, but instead burrowed beneath blankets and in front of warm fires. The townspeople couldn’t remember a cold this deep, this pervasive, and those that made it outside talked incessantly about it amongst themselves.

There was a house, on a street, and a woman lived in it. The house was a small, rundown two-story monstrosity on the edge of town, complete with peeling paint and crumbling front steps. Laura St. Cloud was her name, and she had lived in town for six years. She really never paid attention to things around her, and hadn’t gotten around to fixing anything on the house. Like hell was she going to ask Ronnie or anyone else to do it, so it just stayed the way it was. The house was her refuge from the outside, and it worked well for her. She slept in the front living room, on a lumpy couch, and rarely went upstairs for anything. After Dean left, there was no reason for her to go up there, so she didn’t. She was perfectly content staying downstairs: cooking, watching tv, and sleeping could all be done there. Why mess with a good thing when you had it?

The streets were virtually empty this day, and Laura particularly liked it. Her anxiety around people was so pervasive that she found herself literally running away from those around her, even her own family members. She couldn’t remember the exact moment when she realized she hated people, but it was clear to her now that she couldn’t tolerate the presence of anyone else anywhere near her. She lived in Bismarck, but the town in which she lived was relatively small, and she could disappear at times if she needed to. Today she wanted to disappear into the brittle cold, and not look back for a while.

It was about 1:30 in the afternoon, and Laura realized she needed to escape from the house and go somewhere. She didn’t care where, but she knew she couldn’t stay at home today. She ached badly for a drink, and thought that might be her first stop. But would anything be open with the brutal cold outside? She figured that she should go investigate.

She dressed quickly in jeans and a blue sweater, and put on her trusty hiking boots. A lady never knew what would befall her outside, so she wanted to be prepared. She wasn’t even trying to look sexy today, even though she knew some of the local men would probably be at the bar she was heading to. Dean used to remark to her that she could turn a man’s head just wearing a paper bag from the local grocery store, and she always scoffed at him and laughed uproariously. She admitted that she could be perceived as an attractive woman, but today she simply lacked the energy to try and be attractive for anyone.

Since Laura’s driver’s license had been suspended two years ago for her third DUI, she never bothered to go back and try to have it reinstated. She walked everywhere, or got rides with people, which suited her fine. Driving was too much of a pain, and dangerous to boot. She just didn’t have the sort of calm she needed to be behind the wheel. Right now, she knew that she would have to wear multiple layers of clothing, just to be outside for the few minutes it would take for her to get to Stu’s Tavern. She put on two coats, two pairs of gloves, a hat and a thick scarf. She felt like the abominable snowman like this, but it was the only way to survive outside in this kind of weather.

When she had gathered what little money she had, she went outside and closed the door behind her.

* * *

For it being well below zero degrees outside, Stu’s Tavern was bustling with customers and people trying their best to forget the world. The bar was warm and welcoming, even with the sticky floor and peanut shells strewn all over. Some of the regulars she recognized were slumped over the bar counter, dozing or pondering their lives. Morry and Jack were nursing probably their third glasses of bourbon, and she knew that more glasses would soon be appearing in front of them. Neil was talking animatedly with Joe, the bartender, and Laura could see Joe was getting annoyed, based on the furrowing of his eyebrows and the fierce way he was drying beer glasses with a towel. Neil had a way of irritating people, without even realizing he was doing it. He frequently was the victim of tongue-lashings or even beatings from people who were sick of him spewing his opinions on everything from the porn industry to whether John F. Kennedy had been assassinated by a jilted female lover. He could be kind and self-deprecating when he wanted to be, but today was not one of those days. Even before she got close to Neil, she could tell he was punch-drunk, and would not be able to have a normal conversation today. Usually the two of them talked, and reminisced about their high school days, but when he was this way, no one could reach him.

She walked away from Neil and took a seat at the far end of the bar, nearest to Morry and Jack, who were relatively innocent, albeit drunk most of the time. Their wives would sometimes chase them down in Stu’s, and as they were dragged out by their long-suffering women, laughter and insults would spray out from the bar and the tables nearby. Their opinion was that no man should ever be subjugated by a woman, and no woman of theirs better not ever come into where they were drinking and socializing and drag them out.

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” She asked Morry and Jack simultaneously. Sometimes one of them would answer, sometimes both at once.

“Peachy keen and swell and all that horseshit,” Morry answered, with a slight slur to his voice. “This damn cold has gotten to me so bad. I can’t even stand being in the house, listening to that blasted woman yelling and telling me what to do.” I don’t care if it’s warm there, or anything … Stu can take care of me better than her, any day.”

Jack peered at her with bloodshot eyes, and took in her outfit. “You sure ain’t trying to catch a man today, are ya? Not with that outfit, for sure. Now Stephanie Miller … that woman knows how to attract a man and keep him. Too bad she’s not here today. You could ask her for some advice.”

Laura looked hard at Jack, but realized he could never change and there was nothing she could do to make him different. He was a drunk, a womanizer himself, and even his own wife couldn’t control him. If Laura listened to anything he said, she might as well lay down and go to hell in a handbasket.

She turned around to see who else was in the bar that day, and her gaze settled on a thin, tattooed man in the corner. He was nursing a beer and reading something. Laura had never seen anyone read in Stu’s, and was curious about what the man was doing. He was also attractive to her, and Dean had been gone a long time. She wasn’t dead or anything.

She stepped off of her barstool and walked over to where the man was sitting. “Mind if I join you?” she asked him, with more bravado in her voice than she actually felt. He could easily reject her, and send her on her way.

“Sure, I guess. I won’t be much company though; I’m reading and trying to figure out some things. Care for a beer?”

She nodded a little too quickly, and the man hollered for Stu to bring over two more tall beers to their table, along with some of Stu’s patented greasy chicken wings. Laura’s stomach was growling, and she knew that the food and the beer would calm her.

“What are you reading?” she asked timidly. She didn’t know much about books, but wanted to appear interested in what he was doing.

“Madame Bovary, by Flaubert. It’s really interesting. I’ve been trying to expand my mind and do some new things, and this is one of the things I checked off on my list.”

“What list is that?”

“My to-do list. I wrote down a bunch of things I wanted to do and try, and reading is one of them. I was in learning-disabled classes in school, and got made fun of all the time. I barely made it through school. I hated reading, because of the way my teachers treated me, so I’m trying to get over that and just do it.”

“You got made fun of? That makes no sense to me,” she replied.

“Because of the way I look? Because of the tattoos? People usually stay away from me because of that, but I’m actually a nice guy once you get to know me.”

“What do you do for a living?” Laura asked, growing more curious about the longer the more they sat together, talking.

“I take people ice fishing on the lakes … any lake you name, I’ve probably fished it. I charge by the hour to do it, and I do pretty well for myself. I enjoy being outside, even in this insane cold, and I like teaching people things, so it works out well.”

Laura took a sip of her beer and replied, “I’ve never been ice fishing. What’s it like?”

“It’s cold, and slow; that’s the best way I can describe it. You could sit there for hours, waiting for a bite, and not get a thing except for a cold a*s and even colder hands. But it’s relaxing and peaceful, and it helps you to think about s**t in your life, good or bad.”

“What’s your name, by the way?” Laura asked. She was very interested in what this man was about.

“Rick Jasper, at your service. Born and raised in Pierre, South Dakota. Came here five months ago, and stayed. Not sure how I feel about it yet, even though my business is here.” “What about you, missie?”

“Laura St. Cloud, born and raised in Bismarck and its lovely surrounding burbs. I have no job, no man, no children … just me. I have a house, though; I guess that’s something, huh?”

“I’d say so. There’s probably more about you that you’re just not telling me, but I can understand that. What say we have a few more beers and then go somewhere else to talk?”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” she grinned. They continued to talk and eat and drink, and after a couple more hours, they said goodbye to Stu and headed out the door.

“Damn, it’s cold out here! It actually hurts to breathe. These are the moments when I wonder why the hell I ever moved to a place like this,” Laura grumbled. “I’ve been here six years, though, so I guess I’d better get used to it, huh?”

Rick laughed and stared directly at her. “It’s sometimes hard to get used to things, no matter how long we do them. When I look at you, it seems to be that you’ve been through a lot and are still getting used to the changes in your life. Am I right?”

Laura looked down at her scuffed boots, and quietly nodded her head. “My husband left me five months ago and I haven’t heard a word from him. He just took off one night, and never came back. I’m still married, but have no idea where my useless husband is.” She barked a short laugh, and covered her face with her hands.

“Hey … I didn’t mean to bring up a can of worms for you. I’m sorry about your husband. It sounds like he was a real a*s, and you don’t need him. He should be a man with you so you can move on with your life. I hate people who do that s**t. That’s why I never got married; I couldn’t risk something like that happening. My heart is hard as rock, and that’s the way I want it to be. I can protect myself that way.”

They stood outside Stu’s for a few minutes, trying to stay warm, and then Laura took the plunge and asked Rick a question she never thought she’d ask again. “Do you want to come back to my house for a while? I have beer and wine and some other stuff there … I’m fully stocked, as they say. It’s ok if you say no; I understand. I can make you something to eat, and you can get warm.” She was talking so quickly, so as not to realize what she was saying, but Rick heard her loud and clear and nodded his head in agreement.

“That sounds good; let’s do it.” “Where do you live?”

“About three blocks from here; can you walk that? I don’t drive anymore; long story.”

“We can walk; that’s fine. My bike is here, but I’ll pick it up later.”

Rick and Laura began to walk towards Laura’s house, in the bitter cold.

* * *

Back at Laura’s, they both took off their heavy winter clothing and settled down on the ratty couch she had. She was immediately embarrassed to show this man how disheveled her life actually was, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed downright comfortable there, and looked around him with curiousity.

“Would you like something to drink?” Laura asked him softly.

“No, but I do have something we could enjoy together. I brought it with me.” He took a small ziploc bag out of his jeans pocket, and showed it to her. It was filled with some white powder, and residue had spread itself over the bag.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked. “I don’t know about that. Alcohol is my drug; I don’t know about any other stuff. Is it safe?”

“Baby, it’s as safe as you want it to be. If you do too much of it, you might start feeling back-asswards, but if you do what I say, you’ll have a mighty fine time.” He began to pour some of the powder onto her peeling coffee table, and used a straw to arrange it into thin lines on the table.

“So what do I do?” she asked. She was breathlessly curious about trying it, but was nervous to admit how completely petrified she was.

“Just use the straw to suck it up your nose. Go slow, though; your first time needs to be slow and easy. You should start feeling something quick though. That’s the best part.”

She looked at him and realized that he wasn’t the man she’d seen in Stu’s. He was clearly well-versed in this stuff, and his eyes were bright as he surveyed the lines of cocaine on the table in front of them. A prickle of fear ran up her neck, but she quickly dismissed it. What did she think would happen?

He did the first line, and sat back quickly, sniffing and rubbing his nose. “Oh my god, man, that is unreal. Every time I do it I remember how f*****g good it is. I want you to go slow, though … or do you want to be adventurous and take the bull by the horns?”

She didn’t want him to think she was scared or weak, so she leaned down and did as he had done, taking the powder into her nostrils. All at once, a powerful feeling of light infused her, and she sat back against the couch, utterly caught in its grasp. So this is what people had been talking about for years. Dean had always wanted her to try it, but she begged off, saying she was already doing enough damage to her body with all the alcohol she drank.

The two of them sat there for a few minutes, just experiencing the euphoria of the drug, when all of a sudden Laura started to cry.

In his stupor, Rick looked over at her with a half-smile on his face. “Not so good the first time, huh? Maybe you should do more of it.” He closed his eyes, virtually shutting her out.

Laura realized that this man wasn’t who she thought he was, and even the remembrance of him reading Madame Bovary did not dissuade her from her opinion. She was afraid now, afraid that she had gotten herself into a situation it wouldn’t be easy to get out of. She looked over at Rick, and saw that he appeared to be sleeping. How was she going to get him out of here? Now that he knew where she lived, he could come anytime. Why was she so damn stupid?

She started to get up from the couch, and all of a sudden felt a vise-like grip on her upper arm. She gasped and looked down, and saw Rick was most definitely not asleep. He was looking directly at her, and the look on his face told her that she was in trouble.

“You’re not going anywhere, honey. Sit your pretty self back down here, and we’ll talk.” He relaxed his grip on her arm, but kept his eyes steadily on her.

“Why are you doing this? I thought we were having a good time together. What’s going on?”

“Your loving husband sent me here to check on you. He knew you’d be whoring around and doing God knows what with everyone you met, and he wanted me to see for myself what you were like. And I see that you’re no different than he said.”

She drew a sharp breath, and tried to clear her head, as if she didn’t quite believe what she had just heard. “Dean sent YOU to check on ME?” “He’s been gone for five months, and I haven’t heard a damn word from him. He just took off one day.”

“Well, sweetheart, he had some business to attend to, and he had to go. But he knew he couldn’t trust you, so he sent me here to see what you were up to. And now I see for myself: picking up strange men in bars, drinking, snorting cocaine. You sure haven’t learned anything since he left, have you?”

Laura was silent, and couldn’t think of a word to say to Rick at that moment. She was so shocked to hear news about her husband, and to hear it coming from this man she had never met before … was just too much for her.

“You’d better get the hell out of my house before I call the police. You lied to me; I thought you were a nice guy. You took advantage of me, and you know it. Get out!”

“I took advantage of you? I made you snort cocaine and drink lots of alcohol? I made you bring me back to your piece-of-crap house here? Sweetheart, try again; that’s not flying here.” He answered. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m good and ready.”

She knew he was serious, and she sat back down on the couch with a shaky sigh. She knew there was nothing she could do to help herself now; this was all her fault. She should have never married Dean, should never have stayed in this godforsaken town, definitely shouldn’t have invited this crazy man home with her.

He started to speak. Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. I am going to stay here as long as I feel like it, and you will not say a word. You will tell people that we decided to be a couple and wanted to shack up. You will give me whatever I want. And you will never, ever bring this up again … to anyone. Do you understand me, darling? I’m glad we understand each other so well.” Now crawl upstairs for me; show me what you got.”

THE END

Reviews

[greg]

poor word choice

[BlyndSikick]

Chilling (not only because I'm cold right now, and this made me feel even colder, but the work itself is shocking). Very good description throughout, I could actually feel the cold, and experience the brief glimpses of hurt Laura goes through.

I think there's a Stephen King-esque touch about this one, as the plot takes a while to develop (which isn't necessarily a bad thing) but than moves quickly from rising action to climax and into falling action. Personally, I like the style. It allows for a lot of description in the beginning and a lot of suspense towards the end.

Also, a nice theme. Its kind of scary to think that someone would actually do that, and it's important that we recognize who we get caught up in. Very well written. Kudos to you.