Prom Night in Purgatory (Purgatory #2)(18)

“You think I chose this life?” Maggie stared at him stonily, willing herself not to flinch.

“Did I love you, Maggie?” She didn’t respond.

“Did I love you?!” Johnny cried. She nodded mutely, and shut her eyes against his belligerent gaze.

“Did I kiss you, Maggie?” His voice dropped to a whisper. Maggie’s lips trembled at the mocking in his voice.

“Yes. You did!” Maggie meant to mock back, but her voice betrayed her and broke on the last word, revealing her hurt.

He pulled her close to him then and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He folded her in his arms so tightly she thought she would have to push him away to breathe….and she didn’t want to push him away, though she knew he held her not out of love, but out of desperation. Johnny lifted his head and whispered hoarsely, his eyes on her mouth, his lips only inches from hers.

“If I kiss you now, do you think I’ll remember? Do you think the world will suddenly make sense? That I will remember that choice? That maybe the last fifty years will come back to me?”

Maggie glared at him, willing him to release her, yet wanting him to kiss her, and hating herself for it. Johnny gripped her even tighter in response. Then he dipped his head until his lips brushed hers softly, so softly. Maggie shuddered and he stiffened. She thought surely now he would push her away. Instead, he lowered his mouth again, this time parting her lips with his and holding her face in one of his hands. Johnny’s kiss was warm and insistent, and it was at once familiar and yet completely brand new…his lips on hers, his taste in her mouth, his scent engulfing her. For a moment, she melted into him, letting the fire in her belly burn away the pain, letting him kiss her, and kissing him back. But there was no love in his kiss. And that made him a stranger; it was a stranger’s kiss. The realization hurt her pride, and Maggie fought her way out of Johnny’s arms and pushed him away as angrily as he’d pulled her to him. He let her go, and for several minutes neither of them spoke.

It was Maggie who finally broke the silence and approached him once more, shoving her hands into her pockets, mirroring his stance. “I’m so sorry, Johnny. I know you don’t want to be here. I know none of this makes sense. The craziest part of it all is….you were willing to give your life for me…what was left of it at least. But as much as I want you, I can’t expect you to live your life for me, or to live your life with me. I wanted to be with you so bad. I would have stayed with you in that school, because I was more afraid of losing you than I was of the fire. I thought it was the only way we could be together. But you wouldn’t let me stay.”

Johnny turned away from her, rejecting her, dismissing her appeal. Maggie felt her heart shatter. She finished her plea in a broken whisper.

“But I would have chosen you too; and I haven’t forgotten. Not one second. Not one minute. Not one kiss.” And then, picking up the scrapbook from the concrete floor and setting it in his hands, she turned and walked out of the garage. She walked away from the Johnny who no longer knew her or loved her, out into the grey future to the car that had weathered the decades while Johnny wandered in Purgatory. He didn’t come after her.





~6~

A Time to Build Up





Johnny had treated Maggie badly. He wasn’t sure why. She had made him angry. Again, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the fact that she knew him – or some version of him – that Johnny couldn’t remember or hardly believe. When she told him he used to read to her, he had almost laughed out loud. He didn’t like to read. In fact, he hated it…didn’t he? The problem is, as soon as she said it Johnny remembered just the previous day when he had been wandering though Jillian’s house, at a loss of what to do with himself. He’d had the sudden urge to pull several books down from her overflowing shelves and dive in. He had even grabbed a copy of a book called A Tale of Two Cities, and before he had even opened it, he knew what the first words were…verbatim. He had opened it fearfully and read in growing horror. He knew the story…..with his eyes closed. He may have known more, but he’d flung the book across the room, breaking its binding. The cover had fallen off, and Jillian had looked pained when he’d shown her. It was one of her favorites, apparently. He’d felt like a heel. Then she told him it had once belonged to him. She said his mother had given it to him for graduation. There was an inscription inside the front cover.



May, 1958



To Johnny,

May it always be the best of times,

Love, Momma

Since he had been released from the hospital he’d spent most of his time in the garage with his car. Jillian had said his mother had never been able to part with it. She had kept it all these years – having Gene give it periodic tune-ups, keeping it in running shape. It was the only time he’d felt a glimmer of happiness since this whole horror show had begun. Plus, it had given him something to do. Then he had spent his time looking under the hood of Jillian’s car. There was no carburetor, and everything was smaller. Jillian said many things were computerized in cars nowadays. Then she had to show him a computer. When he’d touched it, a spark shot out from his finger tip and it had shorted out. Jillian had groaned. She’d been able to get it started up again, but as soon as he had touched it, it shorted out once more. He’d decided to stay away. He had been careful to not mess with her car – other than to change the oil and just look. So far the car still worked – computer and all, although he had been told he now had enough money to buy whatever he wanted, including a new car if he destroyed Jilllian’s.