Heaven Sent (8 page)

I stopped outside a sinister-looking establishment. The two drop pins on the map were now one atop the other. A string of motorcycles was parked in front of the decaying building. A large wood carving of a pale green rattlesnake hung above the door. A yellowed sign that flashed the single word ‘lounge’ was positioned to the right of the door. Rattlesnake. Lounge. I had arrived at my destination.

My heart was now pounding so hard I thought it would knock a hole in my chest, and I took several breaths to get it under control. I kept reminding myself that I had the power to create wind indoors and giant waves in a pool. I was fully capable of defending myself if I had to.

I eyed the place suspiciously. The windows were covered with a dark substance, keeping private whatever was going on inside. The door was made of what appeared to be burnt wood. If I wanted to know what was happening on the other side of it, I had to go in.

I took a step forward and the door swung outward. Two laughing bikers came stumbling out. One of them crashed into me.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he slurred.

“That’s okay,” I said. I moved to brush past them before they got a good look at my out-of-place outfit.

Straightening himself, the slurring man took a look at me, “I know you,” he said.

“I don’t think so,” I replied quickly, and again took a step toward the entrance. He put a hand on my shoulder.

“Come on, pretty eyes. I’m not tryin’ to push up on you or anything. Not unless you want me to.” Both men laughed.

“No. That’s okay. Maybe next time.” I pointed my eyes downward and again tried to move past.

“But I
know
you,” he said. His hand was still on my shoulder. He squeezed.

I looked up into his bloodshot eyes, and recognized him. I recognized both of them. They were the two roughnecks that had accompanied Danny Tambor to the Explosion.

Okay heart, pound away.

“Let it go, Mert. That line is older than Methuselah,” the second one said. He seemed less inebriated than the first. “We don’t know who she’s goin’ in there to see, and we don’t want no trouble.”

Mert considered what his friend had just said. “You right.” He smiled at me. It was a crooked smile, a sneaky smile, the kind that made your skin feel like you’d bathed in scummy water. Mert had brown eyes that were set too close together and a scraggle of unkempt beard littering up his face. He wore rumpled biker jeans and a dingy V-neck tee. Everything about him screamed
DON’T TRUST ME.

“You’re a beauty, you are. Maybe I met you in my dreams.” He chuckled to himself as if he’d said something clever.

The good news was neither of them recognized me. I needed to make my escape before they did.

“Yeah, that’s probably where it was,” I replied. Feeling a little braver, I returned the smile. “Maybe we’ll meet there again sometime. In your dreams, I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said. The smile twisted, and I could almost read the dirty thoughts in his dirty mind. “Maybe we will.”

The two roughnecks excused themselves and went back to stumbling down the street.

“I know I’ve seen her somewhere,” I heard Mert say before they were out of earshot.

“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard you say that about a pretty girl, I’d be Bill Gates by now,” the other one said, and they laughed.

I turned away and again faced the entrance of the Rattlesnake Lounge. I took in a long breath. “Here we go,” I whispered to myself, letting it out. I pulled on the grimy door handle. The door opened easily, and I went in.

It was dark inside. Music was playing through butchered speakers somewhere in the back, an old Western song.
Merle Haggard,
I thought. I don’t know why I thought it. I’ve never listened to Merle Haggard in my life. I have no idea what he sounds like.

I pulled the door shut behind me, and all signs of the dying day filtered out. It was perpetual night in the Rattlesnake Lounge. As my eyes adjusted to the low light, I noticed the ceiling was crawling with hanging dollar bills. Every inch of overhead space had a dollar hanging from it like crumpled green party streamers raining down.

The bar ahead of me was jam-packed with cowboy bikers who all seemed to be having a good time. It was a small room with just five or six circular tables away from the bar. Most of the tables were empty. This was a watering hole, not a date-night hangout.

“You a tourist?” I heard someone say. It was a female voice, husky from years of smoking.

“Umm, no,” I replied, thinking
why would a tourist come here?

The woman was seated alone at the table closest to the door. She was about twenty-five although she sounded much older.

“It’s the dollar bills that bring’em.” She gazed up at the ceiling knowingly and then back at me.

I moved in closer. “You mean tourists actually come here?”

She cackled lightly. “It’s the damndest thing, and the regulars don’t like it one bit. But they come anyway. Some reporter did a story about them dollar bills on the local news a few years back, and it went national. Now we’re a tourist destination.” She laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

“What’s with the dollars anyway?”

“It’s an old cowboy tradition. Back in the day, before a cowboy left town, he’d put his signature on one or two dollar bills and staple them to the ceiling. This way he knew when he returned he’d have money for a drink. Today, whenever a new person comes through, they sign a dollar and look for an empty spot to stick it.”

The trivia collecting part of me loved the story. This relaxed me. I moved closer. “That’s a good story.”

“So you’re not a tourist, and you’re obviously not from the neighborhood. You must be looking for a guy.” She grinned. It was an open mouth grin revealing a big gap in the front of her mouth. At first I thought she was missing a tooth, but it was just a gap.

“Actually I’m looking for my friend. Her name is Erin.”

“Oh, Danny’s girl.”

I was surprised she knew who I was talking about. But she didn’t say fiancé which meant there was still hope.

“I seen them two around here earlier. They’re probably in the back.”

It was then I noticed the darkened, narrow passageway just beyond the bar leading to the back room.

“What’s back there?” I asked. The tremor had returned to my voice. I hoped she didn’t notice.

“Pool table, poker table, the usual.” She didn’t say
dead body
, which to my way of thinking was a “usual” thing you might find in the darkened back room of a grungy cowboy biker bar.

“Thanks,” I said huskily, and started for the rear.

“Don’t forget to sign your dollar bill before you leave. Become a part of history. I’ll look around for a clean spot for you to stick it.”

“Thanks,” I called again.

I moved past the bar, avoiding eye contact with any of the men. I didn’t want what had happened outside on the street to happen again. Once I was in the passageway, I could see the room ahead of me. It was brighter in there.

I entered. Two men were playing pool. Erin and another girl were leaning against the wall by a vending machine talking. Erin had aged since I’d last seen her. Or maybe it was the unflattering lighting or the thick mascara, but she didn’t look like Erin—not my Erin, anyway.

I started toward her. She looked up as I was crossing the room.

Don’t make a scene. Please don’t make a scene.

She was smiling with the girl, but when she saw me, the smile vanished. She didn’t say anything, though. I was grateful for that.

“Hey, Erin,” I said as I walked up. My heart was in my mouth, hoping she didn’t jump down my throat.

“Well, look who’s here. Millie, this is an old friend of mine. Umm, what did you say your name was again?” Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

“She’s a laugh riot,” I said to Millie, who appeared to be at least twenty-one, and was now getting a good look at my Hello Kitty tank top and forming her own opinion of me. Although, in my defense, Millie’s cut-off Daisy Dukes, tee shirt rising above a belly roll, and calf-high snakeskin cowboy boots weren’t much of a fashion statement either.

“Megan Barnett, isn’t that it?” said Erin. “The smartest girl at Glendale Union high. I can’t believe you’re slumming.”

Millie thought that was funny and let loose a throaty chuckle. The two men at the pool table had stopped playing and were now eyeing us curiously, wondering if we were about to reward them with a fight. I noticed a card table off to the right with several chairs around it, some of them toppled over. Maybe fighting was a regular thing back here.

“I just want to talk to you,” I said softly.

“Okay,” she replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “You came all this way. Talk.”

I glanced at Millie who didn’t seem to be leaving. “I was hoping we could talk alone.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Erin said. “Millie here is my best friend.”

“I’m gonna be her maid of honor,” Millie said with throaty pride.

“Maid of honor? So, it’s true, you
are
getting married.” As much as Erin’s words stung, I tried to make my voice sound easy, but my heart was once again beating like a drum.

“June twenty-second.”

“That’s my birthday.” The words dribbled off my tongue. I was shocked it was happening so soon. Guess I’d been hoping for a long engagement.

“It can’t always be about you, Megan Barnett,” Erin said in a nasty tone. “Sometimes other people matter, too. My wedding day is way more important than your birthday.”

“Don’t do it.” The words tumbled out of me like rocks in a landslide. I didn’t know I was going to say them, but once they were out, I couldn’t stop myself. “You haven’t even finished high school yet. You have your whole life ahead of you. You’re smart. This doesn’t make any sense.” When the words finished coming, my legs felt wobbly, as though it had taken all of my strength to say what I had to say. I needed to lie down.

“I’m not going back to school after this semester,” she said.

“What?” Another shock.

She narrowed her eyes. There was a mixture of pain and anger in them. “Everybody doesn’t love school like you do, Megan. Besides, I have my whole life ahead of me, right? Isn’t that what you said? I want to get it started.”

This was crazy talk. The Erin I knew loved school as much as I did. We were AP students together who enjoyed competing for good grades.

“Erin,” I said, my voice cracking. “I know why you’re doing this, and I’m sorry about Matt. I really am. But you’re overreacting.”

“This has got nothing to do with Matt.” Her face twisted into an angry knot as she practically spat the words at me. “In fact, I’m glad you broke us up. I never would have met Danny if you hadn’t.”

“But I didn’t…” My words trailed off. I was totally out of gas.

“You still can’t handle the truth, can you? You’re pathetic. I can’t believe we were once friends.” She glanced at Millie and smiled. Millie smiled back.

I wanted to scream out:
We’re still friends. Best friends.
But with everyone staring at me, I’d lost my nerve.

“Where’s Danny?” I asked. I didn’t really care where he was, I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Why? You want to steal him from me, too? He told me about that little crush you had on him.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Right. So were we. But we’re over now.” There was an air of finality about her, as if I was being dismissed.

“Well… I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“I already am.”

The conversation was over. I staggered from the room like a drunken person. The entire encounter had disoriented me, leaving me feeling like a boat adrift at sea. Yet by the time I’d cleared the passageway and was back in the bar, my motor skills had returned. As I rushed through the bar and toward the front door, a man’s voice on the juke box was singing a song about forgetting his woman and losing his friends. I could relate.

“Hey, where’re ya goin’? I found a good spot for your dollar bill,” I heard the woman who’d been seated by the door call.

“Next time,” I called back over my shoulder, and pushed through the front door and out onto the street.

*

The sun was nearly set when I got back outside, and the wind had begun to blow. It was the kind of wind that gave me the feeling something big was coming.

Am I causing this?

I didn’t think I was. I wasn’t angry. I was worried about my friend. I didn’t have any of the feelings I’d had back at the pool. This wind was Mother Nature’s doing.

I began walking toward the bus stop. As I walked, tiny dust devils spun up in front of me. It was like walking into clouds of smoke. My mind was a kaleidoscope of emotion. I couldn’t believe Erin was actually getting married. I knew I had a lot to do with it, and the guilt of it all was weighing on me, like Atlas shouldering the weight of the world. I had to get Erin to come to her senses. I had to.

“Hey there, pretty eyes,” a voice called from somewhere behind me. I didn’t turn. I knew exactly who it was—the roughneck, Mert, from earlier. I continued walking at the same pace, as if I hadn’t heard him.

“Aw, don’t be like that. I got a thing for you.” The voice was following me.

I quickened my pace, walking past boarded-up stores and others that had already been locked up for the night. Four blocks to the bus stop. A long way. But I knew he was drunk.
Perhaps he’ll give up.

I listened intently to the footsteps behind me and realized there was more than one of them. A slow panic began rising inside me. I glanced around, looking for help. There was no one on the street. I was alone with two assailants behind me.

“I just want to talk is all,” Mert called. He wasn’t slurring like before.

“Yeah, all we wanna do is talk,” the other one said, and then laughter, loud and fearless laughter.

The fine hair along the back of my neck began to prickle my skin. Something was off. From the sound of the laughter, there were more than two people behind me.

Up ahead, a car was approaching. I couldn’t see it through the growing dust storm, but I could make out its headlights piercing the cloud as it moved toward me. I thought of running out into the street and flagging him down. But what if he didn’t stop? Then they’d know I was afraid, and that would give them more confidence.