Desperation Road(63)

Russell dabbed out his cigarette and asked for a topper on his coffee.

There were few others in the café, so the noise of the family was easily the most notable sound and Russell sat with his shoulders hunched. Sipping and listening to them. Paying special attention when Sarah spoke. The tone she used with the boys more direct than the tone she used with the small girl but everything she said with the special sound of the voice of a mother. Her husband did most of the correcting. Sit up straight. Stop touching him when he says stop it. Don’t put your finger in there. Sarah asked the boys what they wanted to eat and if they would share and are you sure you like that and she talked to the little girl about the colors she saw on the wall or what was the shape of the bottom of the saltshaker.

It seemed as though his food would never come and when it finally did he ate with urgency and the mashed potatoes and butter beans and cornbread and chicken strips disappeared so quickly that the waitress asked him if he had dumped his plate in the garbage when she wasn’t looking.

As he finished the family’s food arrived and that lowered the energy level of the table as the boys paused to eat and the little girl paused to eat and their dad paused to eat but Sarah only paused and moved the food around on her plate with the tip of her fork. Her husband stopped chewing and asked her if she felt all right and she nodded. Said I’m fine. Russell turned on his bar stool and faced them, holding his coffee cup with both hands.

Decent looking guy, he thought. About what I expected.

She said she had to go to the bathroom and she nudged him with her elbow and he scooted off the seat and let her out. She moved between the tables, turning toward Russell one instant and in the next turning away and then she moved into the small hallway at the back of the café where the restrooms were located. Russell looked back at her husband and he had paid no attention to the notice Russell was giving his wife as one of the boys was trying to stick a french fry into the other boy’s ear.

So Russell set down his coffee cup and walked to the bathroom. The door to the men’s room was on the left and the door to the women’s room was on the right and he turned to make sure he was out of view of her husband and everyone else and he quickly opened the door to the women’s room and stepped inside and locked it behind him. She was leaning over the sink washing her face and she looked up and saw him in the mirror and she was surprised and not surprised. She took a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped her hands and face and then she turned and faced him. Barely a step separating them in the small space. And then they began to whisper.

“You’re in the wrong one,” she said.

“Forgot how to read.”

“Didn’t forget how to chase.”

“Don’t know if I’m chasing or running away.”

This seemed to hurt her and she looked down.

“It was a joke,” he said.

“I know.”

“I have to tell you something.”

She looked back up at him. Inched closer. He put his hand on her arm and held it lightly as if it were something fragile.

“If something else happens,” he said whispering lower. He squeezed her arm then. Looked at the top of her head as he kept on. “If something else happens I want you to know that I didn’t do anything wrong. A bunch of people might think it after where I’ve been. But just know.”

She touched his chin and brought his eyes down to hers. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s all.”

“Stay here.”

“What?”

“Stay here. Can we stay here with the door locked? Let everybody go home and turn out the lights and lock the doors? Stay here with me.”

“I’m not the one who can’t, Sarah.”

“Stay. We’ll stay here,” she said and she put her arms around his waist and her mouth was close to his but she paused there. He felt her breath on his lips as she whispered. Stay. Stay.

“Tomorrow is here,” he said.

“I know. It came so fast. I didn’t know it would come so fast.”

“It came slow,” he said. “It came so slow. Slower than anything.”

“I need it back, Russell.” She leaned her head against him. “I need it back.”

“Need what back?” he asked and he wanted her to say it. Wanted her to explain and wanted her to say I need you back and I need us back and the years back and there has to be a way there has to be a way. I need it all back. All of it. He waited for her to say it. Had always waited for her to say it and he hoped it would come out the way he had imagined it so many times as he stood in the yard or lay on the thin and musty mattress or as he forced down food he couldn’t stand to force down any longer. He had imagined it so many times even after she stopped coming and even after he had gotten the last letter and even though he had known that she led another life. He waited for her to say it and he felt the impulse of hope.

“Need what back?” he asked again. His hand now underneath her hair and across her neck.

She leaned her head off him and looked up. “The ring. Can I have it back? I just want it back.”

After she said it he began to hear everything again. Everything that had been blocked out by their whispers and her body close to him and the swarm of illusions that had joined them in the small space. He heard the voices of the husband and the twins and the sliding of chairs and the clang of silverware being dropped and the opening and closing of the men’s room door on the other side of the hallway. He moved his hand from her neck and touched his fingers to the outside of the front pocket of his jeans. Felt it there. Remembered what he had planned for it and weighed those plans against the voice that had asked for it. Against the voice and the one with the voice and where they had been together and how she smelled against him and what was waiting for her on the other side of the door. He weighed what he had planned for the ring against the moment and then he weighed it against more than the moment. Against tomorrow and the next day and the day after and there was Maben with her shallow cheeks and her thin hands and there was Annalee with her pink forehead and eyes of wonder and there they both were, drifting along on the edge of nothingness. He felt it in his pocket. Realized the possibilities of the ring. Realized that she had not said what he had imagined her saying and realized that she never would. Even if she wanted to.