(Thank you, Jack, for the opportunity to share a bit of my fiction with everyone here. This is the 133rd installment of The Long Winter, a series following Penny Stark as she studies abroad in America. While it is a piece of the larger ongoing story, it works just fine as a standalone piece and gives you a clear picture of the trials she is facing on this fateful day in May. I’ll share a link to The Long Winter’s Table of Contents in the comments. Please enjoy the story.)
***
Becca helped Penny sit down and then she tossed the bags with the wipes and Penny’s soiled dress into the back of the bright red 3000GT. When she sat down in the driver’s seat she chuckled.
“I can’t fucking believe you sometimes.” Becca tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and gave her half-Asian girlfriend a wry smile.
Penny noticed Becca had spoken but her brain felt as though it was composed entirely of alcoholic slush but without the fun fruitiness of a margarita. She lolled her head towards her loving girlfriend and spoke.
“Your dad says to call your mom.”
Becca made a sound of disgust and then the VR4’s twin-turbo engine roared to life. She pressed a few buttons on the screen of the fancy aftermarket radio that emerged from the center stack. A picture of an older version of Becca with slightly darker hair appeared on that screen. The speakers sounded with the ringing of a phone. Becca put the car in gear and began their journey away from Marlins Park.
There was a click and then the sound of movement, of rustling cloth on the other end. Then a voice not unlike Becca’s came through.
“Hello?” The word was delivered almost dreamily.
“What do you want, Mom?”
“Honey? Is that you?”
“Dad said you wanted me to call.”
“Ye—“
“Again.”
Penny pulled her Marlins cap down over her eyes and pretended to sleep, such was the impatience in Becca’s voice.
“Yes… I… Honey, what time is it?”
“Don’t “honey” me, Mom. It’s 6.”
“So early?”
“PM, Mom. It’s fucking dinnertime.”
There was more movement, more rustling cloth, sighs of exertion before another answer came through.
“Dinnertime?”
“Where are you, Mom? Do you need me to pick you up?”
“No, no. I’m fine. I just… Do you know where the Dolphin Motel is?”
“Yes. You were there before.”
“I’m here now. What a coincidence.” Becca’s mother had a lovely laugh, high and lilting.
“What do you need me to bring you?”
“I left a bag at home—“
“More drugs?”
“No, no, I swear.”
“What are you doing at the Dolphin again?”
“I was… I had an appointment.”
“What for?”
“About a job.”
“What kind of job.”
“You know, I don’t have so much time, I have another appointment. Can you bring me my bag, please?”
“Goddammit, Mom, how many more times are you going to fucking do this to me?”
“My bag, Rebecca Jean.” The voice was demonic. Penny shuddered at how terribly familiar the tone was.
“Fine, Mom. I’ll be there in 45 minutes.”
“You need to do better than that. You still have that stupid car, don’t you?”
“45 or call someone else.”
Thunderous silence enveloped them. Penny spied the seconds counting up on the screen. Then there was a sigh of resignation from the car speakers.
“Fine,” Becca’s mother’s voice was airy and dreamy once again. “Thank you.”
“Bye.”
The call ended and music began playing softly, some pop-rock band Penny had never heard before. The half-Asian girl kept her gaze on the glove box. The passing scenery made her queasy and she wanted to cause Becca no further trouble.
“My mom and dad are still together, just so you know.”
Penny nodded.
“Just like yours, I guess.”
Penny nodded again.
“Maybe not. Is your mom on drugs?”
Penny lifted her head and glanced at Becca. The blonde girl smiled back.
“No,” said Penny.
“My mom is. She got into heroin when I was in sixth or seventh grade.”
“That’s—that’s terrible.”
“I guess. She was in and out of rehab a lot. She seems to be relapsing right now. I’ll bet the bag we’re picking up has more of that, or some opioid shit in it.”
Penny nodded. Traffic sped up. Becca continued further up the highway, motoring along the endless stretch of a concrete divider. Then she exited onto a road and turned into a neighborhood. There were nice houses up and down the streets and palm trees and flowering shrubs and endless lawns of crab grass.
“My dad keeps her here,” she said, turning right. “There’s supposed to be a bodyguard with her to prevent shit like this, but she knows how to ditch him. Then she calls me asking me to pick up her drugs, and this one time she even made me get her dealer and then I had to sit in the car and wait for her to pay him. She did that with me when I was in school, too. We’d go “shopping” but really she was just going to some dealer’s house and fucking him for drugs. Then she’d buy me a burger or some shit and we’d pretend like we had a fuckin’ great time even though I didn’t know what was going on until much later.”
Penny knew she was staring at her girlfriend, but she could not stop. Her words were unbelievable. Her mom cheating on her dad for drugs? Penny’s martini-soaked mind reeled away from her.
Becca pulled into a driveway and parked. She got out without a word and Penny stumbled after her up to the house, a stately three-story Spanish colonial revival structure with a manicured lawn and fancy, if plain, landscaped bushes around the house itself. She walked right through the door and across the grand, high entryway without even taking her shoes off. Her footsteps boomed in Penny’s head as she dragged the half-Asian girl along and then Becca deposited her girlfriend on a stool at the stone kitchen counter. She continued past for the fridge.
“Here, try and sober up a bit. Bathroom’s there, so don’t piss yourself again.”
Becca set a couple of store-bought sandwiches and a bottle of diet pop in front of Penny and disappeared. Penny tried to get her numb hands to twist the bottle open but the cap did not budge so she sighed and set it aside and took a bite of the sandwich instead. It had been in the refrigerator for a while and the bread was soggy at the edges and the lettuce and onions were no longer crisp. Still, it was not a bad sandwich and after a few bites she felt stronger. She tried the pop again and this time she was able to twist the cap right off.
This little bit won’t get half the alcohol out of me…
She eyed the bathroom as she got through half of one sandwich, then staggered through the kitchen and sat down to relieve herself. She was glad for the opportunity. She could definitely have held it in Becca’s car, but with their current mission she had no idea when her next chance might be and she swore to herself she would finish the day without another accident.
After emerging from the bathroom she saw Becca finishing the sandwich.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said around the rest of the sandwich stuffed into her mouth. “Look. Heroin or whatever.”
Becca held open the little leather pouch. Needles. Baggies with… something… in them. Little glass jars full of liquid. Pill bottles with prescription stickers. Her vision was still swimming in martini so she could not read the labels before Becca pulled it from her face and handed her the bottle of pop.
“Come on. The Dolphin’s not far from here.”
She followed Becca out and the blonde girl kept talking as they got back in the VR-4, refreshingly cool with the air still running.
“What a momentous day. You get to meet both my parents. I take after my dad. Obviously. I’m not about to let my mom’s fucking drug problems stop me any more than he is. That fucking worthless old bitch. I can’t believe anyone would be so desperate to let her suck his dick.”
She glanced at Penny as she shifted into first and sped back down the road.
“Or lick her pussy. Now there’s a thought. You saw her picture, didn’t you?”
Penny nodded.
“Thought she looked hot?”
Penny shrugged.
“Come on, don’t lie. I’ve heard it all my life, how I’m going to grow up to follow in my beauty queen mom’s beautiful footsteps. It’s all bullshit, though. She’s so fucking embarrassing. I can’t believe I fucking do this for her. The only reason I’m fucking doing it today is because fucking Dad told me to fucking call her. He thought it was important enough to tell your drunk ass to remind me.”
She glanced at Penny as she pulled onto a main road and headed away from the nice houses.
“I wonder, though. Are you as damaged as dear Mom?”
Penny shrank down in her seat. She stared at the pop in her hands.
“It’s fine if you are. I guess that means that we’ll be able to help each other, right?”
Penny nodded. “Maybe the attack damaged me,” she said, her voice raspy and tired.
“Yeah, that or the revenge porn shit. Or both together. What other unbelievable shit have you seen, I wonder…”
Penny looked out the window at the passing palm trees and run-down buildings. The sky was hazy and yellow and the shadows were getting longer. Becca threw the car across traffic and bounced up into a parking lot. A motel with faded paint and a rather industrial take on art deco stood before them. Becca stopped under a large overhang supported by arching patina-coated I-beams and ran into the lobby. Penny watched from the passenger seat as Becca conversed with the Hispanic man with an unlit stogie in his mouth for a moment, then Becca thanked him and ran back out to the car. She put it in gear and made a movie stunt worthy turnaround and zipped back to the other wing of the motel and parked in front of a set of stairs. She tossed her mother’s pouch into Penny’s lap.
“Come on. She’s up there.”
This wing of the motel was two stories of faded pastel yesterday. The turquoise paint was marred by streaks of surface rust here and there and the grounds themselves were unswept. It was not quite dirty enough to be considered filthy, Penny could imagine worse places to stay than this, but it would not be the place she would choose if she were on vacation with Ayumi.
I don’t want to think about Ayumi. I miss her so much. Why couldn’t we be together? I loved her so much. I still love her. Oh, Ayumi. You wouldn’t do this to me, would you? Get me drunk on martinis. Make me wet myself in front of all your rich friends and family. Hit me. Yell at me. Take me to see your drugged-out mom… I miss you…
“This way.”
Becca led her up the metal and concrete stairs to a room near the end of the second story. She knocked three times on the door and waited. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, glared at the door for a moment before turning and smiling at Penny.
“You okay?”
Penny nodded.
“You could smile at least, if you’re going to lie. You’d be more convincing.”
“I don’t feel like smiling.”
“So you’re not okay.”
Penny shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s okay. You’re sobering up though, right? Feeling okay in that sense?”
Penny nodded. Becca laughed and then turned back to the door and savaged it with her fist.
“Come on, Mom, open the fucking door…”
She pounded on it, her jaw clenched tight and her muscles standing out on her arms and Penny cringed away from her. After a long moment the door clacked unlocked and a withered reflection of Becca appeared in the open door, an uncanny scene like Penny was looking through a portal into the future. A voice at the back of her head screamed at her to run, to drop the pouch and run as far and as fast as she could. Instead she put a fake smile on her face and held the drugs out for Becca’s mother.
“Why hello, my darling, dear, sweet daughter. Come in, come in.”
“Hi Mom. We don’t have so much time.”
“That’s nonsense. Come in. I’ll fix us some coffee.”
Penny followed Becca inside and glanced around the room. Dingy, for sure, the TV was old and the carpet slightly worn, but it was vacuumed at least. The curtains were yellowed and blocked the harsh sunlight and the aging air conditioner chugged away and the coolness was pleasant inside. Becca’s mother locked the door behind them with a kachunk. Penny cast an alarmed look at the lock and her girlfriend’s mother laughed at her.
“Can’t be too safe these days, can we?” She staggered past them, looking thin in her long gown and her face was drawn and pale, less like the picture on Becca’s screen than how Penny imagined her girlfriend’s ghost would appear. The older woman went to the desk and, her hands shaking, began fidgeting with the coffee maker set atop it.
“When’s your appointment?” Becca asked, sitting down on the unmade bed.
“Appointment? What appointment?”
“You were here about a job, for an interview or something.”
Becca’s mother was banging the coffee maker around, her shaking hands tearing at the coffee pouches and the filters and the glass pot.
“Was it an interview for this place? Are we buying it? Are you going to work here?”
“So many questions,” Becca’s mother smiled over her shoulder at her daughter and then bared her teeth when she turned back to the coffee maker. “Stupid fucking thing!” She slammed the pot back in its spot and then with a howl of rage threw the entire apparatus off the desk. A deep breath later she turned back to Becca and shrugged and, in a sweet voice, said, “I’m sorry, honey. It appears to be broken.”
“We brought your bag.”
Her mother’s smile vanished again and she blinked at Becca.
“You’re not just here to visit me?”
“You wanted me to call you—“
“Is that my bag?” Becca’s mother brushed past her and frowned at Penny. Her voice turned demonic once again, a much more frightening tone in person. “Who are you?”
“This is my—”
“I’m not asking you.” Becca’s mother’s frown deepened into a glare as she looked at Penny. “Who are you? Are you a cop? I won’t go back, you know.”
“I’m Becca’s girlfriend,” Penny managed to stammer out.
“You look like the police. You move like the police. Who are you, really?”
“I’m Becca’s girlfriend. I’m Penny Stark, from Port Matthew—”
“Fucking fascist, no wonder.” Becca’s mom snatched the bag from Penny’s hands and shoved her away. Penny stumbled backwards into the air conditioning unit and Becca’s mom sat down on the bed. “I knew there was something wrong with you.” She glowered at Becca. “So you too, huh? Just like your dad, always with the slant-eyed whores. She’s not one of his, too, is she?”
“It’s not like that—”
“Shut up. Help me get this…”
Penny told herself it was someone else’s girlfriend kneeling down before her mother and patiently preparing a needle. It was someone else’s girlfriend’s mom pulling her arm out of her long gown and wrapping a ribbon tight around her biceps. Someone else was watching this scene, right before her eyes, not Penny Stark. Those had to be strangers preparing the needle and playing with the bottles, and a strange girl standing there watching from under the bill of her baseball cap.
When it was ready, the older woman held her arm out and her younger reflection dutifully leaned forward to make the injection. Becca’s mom took a deep breath as the drugs surged into her veins and traveled through her body. Penny watched the tension drain from Becca’s mom’s face as her daughter held the needle there for several long seconds, then Becca pulled it out and her mom collapsed backwards on the bed with a sigh of pleasure. Becca set the needle aside and unwrapped the rubber band from her arm. She dabbed away the growing pinprick of blood and put a band-aid over it and then turned and smiled at Penny.
“Ready to go?”
Penny could not look at her. She continued staring at Becca’s mother lying on the bed. She was breathing long and slow, moving as though she were swimming through the most pleasant of dreams. Becca touched Penny’s arm and she nearly jumped out of her sandals.
“Hey. Are you ready to go?”
Penny blinked as Becca’s face filled her vision. She tried to step back, to gain some space, but she was still against the wall. She stumbled to the side and Becca laughed as she gathered the half-Asian girl into her arms.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Penny looked past Becca at the older woman lying on the bed.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll come out of it in a few hours and no doubt she’ll be looking for me again or her worthless bodyguard. Let’s go. We have to get cleaned up to meet dear old Dad again.”
Becca unlocked the door and pulled Penny back out into the sticky air. They walked down the stairs and got back in the car. Becca turned the vents on her face and let the car run for a short while.
“So that was dear, sweet Mommy-dearest.”
Penny nodded. Becca slammed the car in gear and raced out of the parking lot and into traffic, a chorus of angry horns and shrieking tires behind them. Penny gripped the sides of her seat as Becca weaved between the slower cars.
“Charming woman, I know. I take after my dad a lot more than her. She’s fuckin’ pathetic. I mean, you saw. Oh well. Who the fuck cares?”
The car was going faster and faster and Penny closed her eyes and waited to die as Becca jerked them this way and that, the 3000GT’s tires screaming in protest of the abuse while its engine howled with eager rage. They turned, and turned again, never slowing, always faster, ever faster, angry horns behind them—
“Fuck her, you know? That fuckin’ bitch.”
They were on the highway now. Penny could tell because the going became smoother and faster. Penny opened her eyes again. The city was a blur.
Becca sniffled.
“Fuck her…”
