Shhh...Mack's Side (12 page)

“Sorry, ma’am. I can’t go past here. It’s out of my jurisdiction. There’s a bus station about a mile from here. I could take you there, but that’s it.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I sat at the bus station having no clue where I was headed, and turned on my phone. Twelve voicemails from Colton, two from my mother, and five texts from Colton, begging me to call him. I laughed at the only message I read from Colton. He loved me? Oh my god. For real? He’s going to play that card? I rolled my eyes, and answered my mother’s call. Colton wasn’t the guy to deal with my risky and impulsive behavior. No one was. I would always be alone.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, trying to sound perky. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I just heard. I can’t believe they printed your name without talking to you first.”

“They tried. I ignored their calls, trying to keep a low key here.”

“Why don’t you come home for a few days?”

“No, Mom. I’m just going to get a way for a while. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“What! No you’re not. You’re not running. You’re not letting this bastard do this to you. You love your job. Nothing is going to happen to you. Just come home for a few days.”

“No. I’m doing this. I’ve already sold everything and told my boss I was done. I’m getting ready to get on the bus now.”

“No, McKenzie Noel
! I don’t want to hear this nonsense. You have a life. You don’t just give up your amazing job and go away. Who does that?”

“I don’t have an amazing job. My job sucks, I don’t enjoy it, and I need some time. I need to get away and find myself, Mom. Please try to understand.”

“I’m trying, baby. I am. Please don’t do this.”

“McKenzie! What’s going on?” My dad asked in a stern but shaky voice
, replacing my mother’s frantic tone.

Ah. I did have a dad. I’d almost forgotten what his voice sounded like.
“Dad, it’s no big deal. I’m just going to get away. I’m tired of this rat race. I just want to go relax for a while. Is that too much to ask?”

“Where? Where do you want to go relax?”

I only knew the answer so quickly because of the sign in the bus station. “Florida.”

“McKenzie. Listen to me. Tell me where you are. I’m going to come and get you. We’ll get you some help to get through this. We’re here for you, Mack.”

Great. More help. Just what I wanted. Another shrink.

“Dad. I’m going to do this. I need to do this. Tell mom I’ll call her in a few days. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me.”

I heard my dad yell my name one more time before I cut him off with the end button.

Dropping my phone to the bottom of my purse, I took a deep breath and looked around. Funny how my parents were always right there for me when I fucked up, but never when things were okay. I shook my head and wondered what to do. Where the hell was I supposed to go?

I read some of the signs, wondering where to go after New York. Hershey PA? Wild Wonderful West Virginia? Maine? I read, not liking any of it. I should have had a plan. I had to be frugal, I wasn’t planning on working for a while. Something, private, by the beach, I thought
with that still in my mind. Retrieving my phone, I ignored Colton’s message, and replied to my mom, telling her I was fine and not to worry.

Going
through different rentals along the Gulf Coast, I searched for something non-vacation. Everything along the beach was overly priced and wouldn’t rent for more than fourteen days at a time. The beach was out. Wait a minute. I stopped the scrolling of my finger.

One bedroom cottage on quiet street. Nice neighborhood. Only two miles from private beach. House has been empty for three years. Needs work.

I could clean and do work. I had plenty of time. Hoping it wasn’t rented yet, I stood and dialed the number. An old man answered, clearing his throat.

“Hello, I’m calling about the ho
use you have for rent.”

“Yes, what would you like to know?”

“Your asking price?”

“Five hundred a month, but it needs some work. I don’t have the funds to be fixen stuff up, so you can’t be calling me when the water won’t turn on.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Is it livable now?”

“Yes. I lived in it. Well, it’s been a while. I think the hot water tank needs replaced. The roof isn’t leaking, but the roof’s gonna need replacing. The water in the bathroom sink doesn’t work. I shut it off because of a leak. The carpet is a hundred years old and it’s got
seventies paneling throughout. It’s a dump. I’ll only charge you three hundred if you wanna put you’s own money into it. You still interested?”

“Very. I’m going to call you back. I have to check on a bus ticket.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“No. For real. I promise. I’m going to call you right back. What’s the closest city?” I asked. I could tell the old man didn’t believe me.

“The closest city will be Panama, but it’s a hike after that. You’ll be about two hours from the airport. Cyprus is the town. Just a little hole in the ground, we are.”

And so it was. I set out on the longest bus trip of my life. My first bus trip. I could have flown, but really
, I had no reason to be in a hurry. The twenty-six hours would do me some good, maybe help me figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Maybe I wouldn’t do anything. Maybe I would just fix up the little old cottage and work at a local newspaper or something.

Most of my trip was quiet. I did end up with a friend for about three hundred miles. A little old lady traveling to North Carolina to visit her daughter. I didn’t mind. Listening to her stories about growing up in the
fifties kept me entertained for quite some time. I wished I would have grown up in the fifties. My life would be a lot closer to an end. Once we parted ways at her final destination, I was pretty much alone for the rest of my trip.

Staring out the window at the same
interstate scenery, I rested my head on the cool glass and crossed my arms. I closed my eyes, trying to tune out the movie playing above my head. I hated movies where someone was on trial. I didn’t watch any of the criminal shows on television and I sure as hell didn’t want to watch a movie showing it.

Although the sun had barely set and it was just past nine, I felt tired, emotionally drained. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths, trying to relax enough to sleep. I think I dozed off pretty quickly, tuning out the judge, yelling
“order!” on the screen two seats in front of me.

My head bounced off the window with a bum
p. I almost woke up, but was pulled back to the beginning of a dream. Twisting into a ball, I let the dream take over.

“Liar!” I heard Mr. Nichols yell. It was as plain as day. Just like he was standing right there. Gia was on the stand. For whatever reason, we avoided eye contact while she explained to a room full of strangers what happened to us that night.

I remember looking up from my dad’s shoulder. Gia was crying, trying to describe what went down. I looked up briefly, smiled at her, and dropped my head. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be as brave as Gia and get up there like that. I’m sure I have never been so terrified in my life.

“Dad. No. Please don’t make me do this. I can’t,” I cried, sitting on a bench that reminded me of church pews, right outside the courtroom. The big, scary courtroom.

“Mack. You’re getting on that stand. We’re not letting this guy walk out of here. I’d be in prison for killing the son of
a bitch.”

“I don’t want you to hear,” I cried. I didn’t want my parents to picture the things I was being forced to talk about.

“None of this is your fault, sweetie. My attorney coaxed, squatting in front of me like I was a three-year-old child. I felt like a child. Nothing went as I’d thought it would go. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be celebrating my twelve years of school success. We had it all planned out. This wasn’t part of the plan. We were going to travel the whole year, winning cheerleading competitions. We had all the colored push-pins on a map in my room. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I wanted it to stop. Gia and I had a plan to follow. A roadmap to our success.

Looking up, I heard a sob, knowing whose it was, I wept
, too. It was Gia. I’d know her cry anywhere. We were so broken. Beautiful disasters, that’s what we were. Fucked up messes. Who would have ever thought? I never dreamed I’d ever be where I was.

Every single part of my body shook while I promised with my
hand over a Bible, promising to tell the truth, tell the gruesome details of a night that changed the paths of copious amounts of people.

“McKenzie, could you explain to the court what went through your mind when you were willingly going into a grown man’s home?”

“Objection,” Myra, the Assistant District Attorney said. “Badgering.”

“Overruled. Continue,” the judge
ruled. I think he was getting tired of this case, too. It had been going on and on for months now.

“I’ll rephrase
if sugarcoating makes it better,” the defense attorney snidely remarked. “McKenzie, what was going through your mind when you went into Mr. Nichols’ home?”

“Nothing really. We were a little intoxicated. We were laughing and having fun. We just went there to talk to him. We were upset about our grades. He was ruining our senior year.”

“Walk us through that, if you don’t mind, Miss Perry.”

“I do mind. We’ve been asked the same question three times each now. It’s the same,” I cried.  I didn’t want explain it again. I couldn’t do it. Please don’t make me repeat it again.

“Tell me again. I want to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Gia was the captain of our cheerleading squad. I was co-captain and we were one competition away from winning the state title. We’d made it to the finals for three years straight. Our senior year of high school was our last chance and we finally made it. Mr. Nichols failed us both over one final, and Gia lost her schol
arship,” I said verbatim. Word for word. I’d spewed this same story so many times. I couldn’t take it anymore.  

“And was this failing grade the consequences of taking
each other’s final that was worth seventy-five percent of your last report card grade?”

“No. It was fifty percent of our grade.”

“But you girls were responsible for taking each other’s exams?”

“Yes. We did that. I was just trying to help Gia. She needed to keep her scholarship.” I admitted again. I couldn’t deny it.
It was the truth.

“And the reason you went to his house?”

“We wanted to talk to him. See if there was anything we could do to get our grade up. Gia was going to lose a scholarship because of her GPA and cheating. She couldn’t have that on her transcript. We just wanted him to understand how sorry we were.”

“McKenzie. Would you say you think Mr. Nichols is a good looking man?”

“Objection,” Myra called again. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Sustained.”

“Did you ever hit on Mr. Nichols? You know, flirt with him?” the slime ball continued.

“Yes. I hit on him. Gia hit on him. Every girl at
Monte Academy hit on him. We always messed around with him. What does that have to do with anything?” I cried. I broke down and cried. I couldn’t endure it anymore. I just wanted it over. I was sick every day. I didn’t sleep. I walked around in a fog, and my concentration was nonexistent, add the fact that I couldn’t eat without feeling sick, and you get one big mess. That’s what I was. One big crazy mess.

“Explain what you mean by always messing around with him?”

I wanted to scream. “I mean, just like all the girls did. We talked about how cute he was, how good he smelled, and just like… I don’t know. We all flirted with him.”

“Did Mr. Nichols ever touch you before that day?”

I bowed my head.

“Miss
Perry?”

“No, not really.”

“Do you think maybe you went a little too far?”

“What do you mean?”

“In his house that night? Do you think maybe you two girls went a little too far?”

“Yes. Maybe, but we didn’t know it was going to turn out that way. We were just messing around. We didn’t know,” I cried, looking to Gia for reassurance. She wasn’t looking at me. Her head was down, staring at her folded hand
s in her lap. This was so screwed up.

I went through the same thing Gia did, explaining the exact same thing that she’d already said the day before until it was time to turn the tables.

“He followed us. I don’t know what happened after that.”

“How do you know it was Mr. Nichols who was following you?”

“It was his truck. I’ve seen it a million times. It was his truck.”

“But you didn’t actually see his face, correct?”

“I saw enough. It was him. It was the same ball cap he always wore. It was his truck.”

“And where did Mr. Nichols rape you?”

“Objection,” Myra called. I heard her yell that phrase so many times, I heard it in my sleep. It went unnoticed by the defense. He continued with his questions.

“Weren’t you supposedly knocked out? How do you know he touched you?”

“Gia told me. I know he ran us off the road. I remember grabbing the dash when Gia swerved,”

“And then what happened?”

I disgustingly spit it out. I was so tired of repeating myself over and over and over. I felt the anxiety forming in my chest, erecting a nice little panic attack. I wanted off that stand. I will never forget the look in those eyes. It haunts me on a daily basis.

“Gia asked me if I was okay, and we stepped out of the car.”

“Yes.”

“That’s all I remember.”

“You were hit in the back of the head?”

“Yes. With a ball bat.”

“How do you know it was a bat if you were out cold?”

“Really? Because Gia told me, and I can show you the scar. Want to see?” I smartly asked.

“You see, McKenzie. The problem I have with this story is, why. Why would Mr. Nichols knock you out cold and not Gia? Why would he rape you as a dead corpse, but wanted Gia alive and kicking?”

I couldn’t breathe. I’d done an excellent job keeping it together so far.
I was going to flip. I was about to go into a side of McKenzie the court wouldn’t understand. Thank god Gia ran from the court room before he attacked me about all the medication I was on. My physiatrist’s statement proved me to be perfectly sane. That part was over. Thank the good lord above.

“I don’t know why. I don’t know why any of this is happening. I don’t want to do it anymore,” I cried. My mom was right there when I left my little box and fell to my knees. I just wanted it over with. I needed it to be over with. 

Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Sad stories of two innocent girls. Guilty. Judge with a broad white mustache. Guilty. Dark graying hair, dignified in black. Guilty. Child victims, physical injury, mental injury, sexual intercourse, masturbation, sex crime, teacher. Guilty! Proof, preliminary findings, presumption, compelling reasons, black judicial robe, jury, Guilty!

“Ma’am! Ma’am. Are you okay?”

I jumped, realizing I was on a bus. A dark bus headed to who
knows where. Alone.

“Yes, must have been the hotdogs from the last bus station,” I said, smiling at the young man.

“Want me to keep you company?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” I nodded, dismissing the boy. I didn’t need company. Jesus. That was so real. I could still feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. I took a few breaths, trying to come down from what wasn’t really happening. Staring out the window, I thought about nothing. I was blank, motionless, and e
mpty. I was running away. Running from something that would follow me no matter how far or where I ran to. It was inevitable.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I counted the reflecting markers, mile by mile. Charlotte North Carolina. 87 miles. Exit 11. Eleven. Eleven, Eleven. Exit Eleven. Nine Eleven. 911. Ten plus one.
Chanting every fact I could remember about the number, I closed my eyes, praying for sleep that wouldn’t come. I needed to crash. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

Well, my new landlord was a liar. Did everyone on the planet feel the need to lie? The neighborhood didn’t look like a safe little community to me.
A block wall was saturated in graffiti, four rundown mobile homes with trash and junk all around were just up the road from my new dwelling, and the guy right next door was smoking weed. I was sure of it. He nodded, chugging his can of beer. I didn’t nod back. I unlocked the door with the key the man had given me at the diner I had met him at.