At the Edge of the Forest Page 10

  She glances at me and smiles again, before turning back to the shelf.

  “I'm sorry,” I stammer, “I... I don't mean to disturb you.”

  “That's okay,” she replies. “Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?”

  “Well, I... You've never seen me here before, have you?”

  She frowns. “I'm sorry?”

  “Me,” I continue. “Here. You've never... I was just wondering if...” Staring at her for a moment longer, I can't help thinking that she seems a little familiar, not only from my hallucination but from some earlier time. Tilting my head slightly, I try to place the resemblance.

  “I'm sorry, Sir,” she says after a moment, “but this is only my second night in the job, so I really don't... I don't think I could have seen you before.”

  “Your second night?”

  “Are you after anything in particular?” she asks again.

  “Um, no,” I reply, suddenly taking a step back but unable to stop staring at her. “I'm just, I'm browsing, that's all.”

  “Okay,” she says, still smiling. I guess she was trained to do that, no matter how awkward she feels. “Well, again, let me know if I can help in any way at all. Here at BarraBuy, the customer always comes first.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, mesmerized by the sight of her. It's not that she's especially beautiful, because she's not, it's just that something about this girl seems strangely familiar and I can't shake the feeling that she must have appeared in my hallucinations for a very specific reason. Suddenly, however, I realize that I must be coming across as a complete psychopath, so I take another step back and tell myself that I need to get the hell out of here. “I'm sorry to have bothered you,” I stammer, “I think I'll just keep browsing.”

  “Sure,” she replies, “but -”

  “Thank you!”

  With that, I turn and hurry back along the aisle, trying to get back out into the parking lot as quickly as possible. By the time I get back to my car, I'm so out of breath that I have to stop and lean on the hood as I take deep, hawking gulps of air.

  “Jesus Christ,” I stammer, finally glancing back toward the store, “what the hell is wrong with me?” I watch the building for a moment longer, before realizing that I need to take control of my goddamn life.

  Fishing through my pockets for my keys, I hurry around the car.

  “Not her,” I mutter. “I can't take her, it wouldn't be right. I can't ever come back to this store, I can't -”

  Suddenly I stumble, falling against the car and barely managing to stay upright. I struggle back up but in the blink of an eye, everything changes around me and I look up to find that I'm back in the store with the sound of gunfire once again filling the air. Turning, I spot the Joe guy still dead on the floor in a pool of his own intestines, but a moment later I realize I can hear the gunfire getting closer as footsteps approach from behind.

  I turn just in time to see Rita aiming a rifle at me. She pulls the trigger and -

  Gasping, I step back from the car and trip, landing hard on my ass and letting out a cry of pain. I try not to panic as I look around, but fortunately I quickly realize that I'm back out in the parking lot, next to my car. I take a series of deep breaths as I try to work out why that hallucination hit me at that exact moment. I'd just decided to never come back to the store again, so it's almost as if that was the decision that set me on a path to...

  To being shot dead by that dumb little bitch in one of the store's aisles.

  “I'll come back,” I stammer, hoping to hallucinate a better fate. “I swear, I'll come back.”

  I wait, but nothing happens. A moment later, however, I realize I can hear footsteps coming closer once again, followed by the unmistakeable sensation of Alison kissing the back of my neck.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  “I love you too,” I reply, turning but seeing only the empty parking lot stretching toward the nearby treeline. Was that it? Was that another hallucination, or is my mind starting to completely unravel? Getting to my feet, I look around in case there's any sign of someone nearby, but of course I'm all alone and after a moment I find myself staring at the BarraBuy store again. “Who are you?” I whisper finally, thinking about that Rita girl stocking shelves. “Who the hell are you and why are you in my life?”

  Part Five

  SHANNON

  I

  Two years ago

  “This place sucks,” I mutter, taking a drag on my cigarette as I stare across the dank, dirty little forecourt outside the trailer. “The worst part is, it's sucked for years and I'm still here, so maybe I'm part of it now. Maybe I'm just another fucking...”

  I pause for a moment, trying to think of the right word, before letting out an annoyed grunt and taking yet another drag. The cigarette's down to a nub now, but I figure I can still eek a little more out. It's not like I can afford to waste any of this precious nicotine.

  “My life,” I continue finally, “is a never-ending parade of bullshit and stupidity, wrapped up in...”

  Sighing, I lean my head back against the side of the trailer. It's one of those days.

  “And worst of all,” I add, “I'm getting so fucking self-pitying, it's a wonder I don't implode.”

  Hearing a rustling sound nearby, I turn and see that Glenda is sitting with the empty whiskey bottle turned upside down, waiting for a few last dribbles to run out into the palm of her hand.

  “Hey!” I say with a frown. “You weren't supposed to finish it!”

  “I'll get you some more.”

  “With what money?”

  She shrugs, still hoping for one more drop.

  “Is this how you thought life would be?” I ask, sighing as I watch a bunch of scruffy kids playing near one of the other trailers. “Seriously, did you think you'd just spend the rest of your days sitting around in a fucking trailer park, wasting away, slowly starting to sag and droop until one day you end up looking like...” A shudder passes through my body for a moment. “I'm gonna end up like my mother,” I continue finally, with a slow, horrifying sense of realization. “I'm gonna end up meeting some deadbeat loser, squirting out a few kids, then getting left alone and drinking myself into oblivion. And then my kids will do the same, and so will their kids, and the whole circle of life will just keep on keeping on forever until the world goes up in flames.”

  “You might not get stuck here,” Glenda suggests meekly, with no sense of conviction whatsoever.

  “Oh, who are you trying to kid?” I ask, sitting up straight as I feel a twinge of pain in my spine. “I mean look at us, we're two reasonably attractive girls, there's nothing obviously wrong with us and yet here we are on a Saturday afternoon, babysitting my kid sister and with no plans for tonight except...” My voice trails off as I realize that we don't have plans at all. “This,” I continue with a sigh, “is all we have going for us. Sitting in the dirt like a pair of fucking... bugs.”

  “We could always go into town,” she suggests.

  I glance over at her. “And do what?”

  She shrugs.

  “Drink?” I continue. “With what money?”

  “Well...” She pauses, and I can tell she has an idea. “I mean, sometimes guys buy drinks for girls, don't they? Like, in bars and stuff?”

  “You wanna whore yourself out for a whiskey and soda?”

  “Not whore myself out,” she continues, “just... Well, you know, flirting never hurt anyone. Flirting's fine, so long as you don't go too far. I'm not suggesting we should sleep with these guys, but we could have a good time and at least we wouldn't be bored. And it's not like we'd be taking advantage of them, 'cause they'd know the score. I mean, everyone knows the score, don't they? Deep down. Unless they're kidding themselves and, like, pretending not to know on purpose.”

  “So you wanna flaunt some cleavage and get some drinks that way?” I ask, feeling utterly depressed by the realization that this might, in fact, be our best option.

  “The other girls do i
t.”

  “The other girls are sluts and tramps,” I point out. “And some of them actually... Well, you know what they do. A soda and whiskey can buy a guy a real good time in one of the dive bars.”

  “I'm just talking about a few drinks,” she continues, and it's clear that she's already set on the idea. In fact, as she checks her watch, it looks like she's thinking of heading off without me. “I don't know, Shannon,” she adds, not quite making eye contact with me, “you complain about sitting around with nothing to do, and then when I suggest something, you get all cynical about it.”

  “I just don't fancy the idea of trading drinks for...” I sigh as I realize the inevitable. “Drinks for hope,” I continue, “but I guess it's too late, isn't it?”

  “What is?”

  “You've talked me into it.” Easing myself up off the dirt, I feel another twinge of pain in my back and I can't help wondering whether I'm, like, starting to age prematurely. I'm only twenty-six, but sometimes I feel like I've got the body of a forty-year-old. “I'm sure I'll regret it,” I add, taking one final drag from the cigarette before stubbing it out on the side of the trailer, “but the way things are going lately, I figure I'll regret pretty much anything anyway so...”

  My right knee cracks slightly as I make my way toward the steps that lead up into the trailer.

  “Can you give me five minutes?” I ask. “I figure I might as well try to look a little presentable.”

  “Knock yourself out,” she replies, “but don't take too long. We should probably set off soon.”

  “Yeah yeah,” I mutter, heading into the trailer, “wouldn't wanna miss a moment of fun, would we?” Heading through to the room at the back, I pull open the closet and start rooting through to find something halfway decent I can wear tonight. After holding up a couple of old sequined tops and realizing that I'd end up looking like a hooker, I finally settle on a black shirt that opens pretty low at the front. Not too slutty but also just slutty enough. I pull my vest off and toss my bra aside before slipping into the shirt and taking a moment to check myself in the mirror, and then I slip out of my pants and into a pair of cut-offs. Sure, I'll be cold on the walk home later, but at least I should be good until then.

  Damn it, I'm already starting to regret this. I'm so tired, I could just sleep and -

  “Where are you going?”

  Sighing, I turn and see my little sister watching from the doorway. She's not that much younger than me, but my God she can be annoying.

  “Hey Rita,” I say with a smile, hoping to keep her on my side, “I'm just gonna pop into town with Glenda for a while. You don't mind, do you?”

  “You're supposed to be looking after me.”

  “Yeah, but you're way too old to need that.” Stepping over to her, I tousle her hair. “Mom'll be back from work in less than an hour, and I'm sure you'll be okay alone until then, right? Come on, seriously, what kind of teenager needs babysitting?”

  “I thought we could hang out,” she replies. “Mom said -”

  “Mom says a lot of things,” I point out, slipping past her. “Mom's breath stinks of booze, too.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just out.”

  “Drinking?”

  I turn to her. “No!”

  “Yes you are,” she continues. “I thought we were gonna hang out tonight, Shannon. We never hang out anymore.”

  “We will,” I reply, feeling guilty, “I promise, just... Not tonight, okay? I've been here all day hanging out, you're the one who spent the whole time inside drawing and reading like some kind of nerd. You could've come out and spent some time with me and Glenda. Sometimes I swear you intentionally act younger than you are, just to avoid growing up. Shouldn't you be into drink and boys by now, like me?”

  She wrinkles her nose, and I can tell she's trying to lay the guilt on thick.

  “Come on,” I continue, forcing a smile, “I know you might not understand what it's like for me, but when you get a little older, you'll know how it feels to be cooped up in this place and to have nowhere to go. This is the first time I've been to town in, like, weeks, and I just want to hang out and have a good time. You wouldn't deny me that, would you?” I wait for a reply, but she just stares at me like she knows exactly what I'm thinking. “You're pretty cool,” I tell her, “but -”

  “Can I come with you?”

  I can't help laughing at the idea.

  “Why not?” she asks.

  “You would not fit in.”

  “Then teach me.”

  “You'd hate it,” I tell her. “Come on, ignore what I just said, there's no point in you trying to be someone you're not. Do you really wanna spend ten hours traipsing from bar to bar, having inane conversations with leery guys who wanna shove their hands into places they shouldn't, all while getting slowly drunk on cheap shots?”

  I can see the sense of shock on her face. “That sounds like hell,” she says finally.

  “Exactly. So stay here and do what you enjoy doing. Drawing and reading, shit like that.”

  “Can't you wait 'til Mom gets back before you leave?”

  “I don't think that'd go too well,” I reply. “You know what Mom's like.” Glancing at the window, I can see that Glenda's getting impatient. “I've gotta go,” I mutter. “Yay.”

  “What about dinner?” Rita asks.

  “I'll find something in town.”

  “What about me?”

  “You're old enough to work the microwave.”

  “I don't know how to change the settings.”

  Sighing, I realize she's doing this on purpose, to annoy me. “Fine,” I mutter, “I'll do you some noodles before I leave, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “But this time you're gonna watch how I do it, so you don't rely on me next time.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let's go, hotshot,” I continue, grabbing her hand and leading her through to the kitchen. Leaning out the main door for a moment, I wave at Glenda. “Hey, I'll be about five more minutes okay? I just need to fix some dinner for Rita.”

  She sighs. “She's not a baby,” she points out, not unreasonably. “Come on, we really should get going.”

  “Five minutes, I promise,” I tell her. “Please wait, if I don't feed her, she'll just do that pouting, sulking face for a week.”

  “Okay,” she mutters, “but hurry up. I wanna drop by my place on the way, and if we get to the bars too late, all the decent guys'll have been taken.”

  “Decent guys?” I reply. “In a place like this?” Turning back to Rita, I see that she's opening the microwave door. “Okay hotshot,” I continue, “this is the last time I'm doing this for you. You're not a baby, so you're gonna learn to make your own dinner.”

  She mutters something under her breath, but I don't take the bait. Instead, I simply slip the noodles into a bowl and set them into the microwave.

  “Pay attention,” I say firmly. “You never know, maybe one day I won't even be around to look after you all the goddamn time.”

  II

  “No!” Glenda screams, shoving the guy away and then stumbling across the dark parking lot at the rear of the bar. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

  “Come on,” he says, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. “Why'd you girls come out here with us if you only wanted to act all frigid?”

  “Leave her alone,” I tell him.

  “Mind your own business,” he replies, turning to me. “We're having a discussion.”

  “The hell you are,” I continue, stepping closer to him. “She told you to keep your hands to yourself, so -”

  “It's alright,” Glenda says suddenly, putting a hand on my chest to push me back. “Let me talk to him.”

  “He's an asshole!” I shout.

  “Just let me talk to him,” she continues. “He's kinda hot, right? I mean, for round here.”

  “Don't let him put his hands on you,” I tell her.

  “I won't.” Turning to the guy, she takes
his hand and leads him away, toward the shadows by the dumpsters.

  “Why do I always end up looking after people?” I mutter, exasperated by her complete refusal to do the smart thing in any situation. I swear to God, she's way too desperate. “Why am I always the fucking babysitter?”

  “Your friend's pretty unpredictable,” the other guys says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “One minute she's flashing her tits for drinks, the next she's acting all frigid.”

  “She can be kind of excitable,” I mutter, checking my phone and seeing that it's almost 2am. Jesus Christ, it's nine hours since we left the trailer park. Nine hours of walking and talking and drinking and being bored and flirting with guys and listening to music and dancing and... I don't think I've ever been so tired. “We should be getting home.”

  “We sure should,” the guy replies.

  “I mean me and her.”

  “What's the rush?”

  Turning to him, I realize that out here in the fresh air he suddenly looks about twenty years older than I'd realized. His puffy face hints at a drinking problem, and he spends more time staring at my cleavage than he does looking at my eyes.

  “What's your name again?” I ask.

  “Rob.”

  “Rob what?”

  “Rob Mason,” he continues, with a faint smile. “Listen, I didn't pull this trick earlier, but I might as well tell you. I'm pretty damn well connected in this county, so if there's anything a nice young lady such as yourself needs, I'm sure I could help out. If you're after a job, for example -”

  “I've got a job.”

  “Oh yeah? And where might that be?”

  “The new store outside of town,” I mutter, looking past him to see that Glenda and the other guy are locked in a kiss as they lean against one of the dumpsters. It's the kind of kiss that could turn into something a whole lot more sleazy at any moment.