Stop looking at me

Glenda watched as Brandi shrunk in her rear view mirror. Small enough that she could squash her between her fingers if she wanted to. Glenda usually considered herself to be nice person but this was too much. Brandi had thrown Rusty away and now he was Glenda’s as far as she was concerned. The cat in the back seat nodded in agreement.

“She’s the rat,” he said, “you would have helped her if she hadn’t been trying to hurt your Rusty”

Glenda wasn’t sure if this was the case, she’d felt bad for Brandi but not that bad. The cat in the backseat thought better of her though and that made her feel good. Glenda knew she had to act fast, it would take Brandi at least an hour to walk into town with her smoker lungs but that wasn’t much time.

“I have to get to Rusty and proclaim my love tonight before Brandi finds him” Glenda told the cat. “Rusty, you might not remember me but I’ve loved you for a long time” she practiced, putting on her peach lipstick as she drove, “I love the way your hands gently box up toilet seats in the plant”, “I love the way you pick your teeth so precisely after you eat your lunch in your car while I watch you”, “I love the way your mustache tickles my upper lip when we kiss.” Who was she kidding, thought the cat, she'd never kissed him except nightly in her dreams.

Glenda could tell the cat in the backseat thought her plan was a bad idea but she was ignoring him. “Stop looking at me like I’m crazy and start looking at me like I’m not crazy” she snapped. The cat didn't stop. “Well, I don’t care what you think” she said, “When Rusty and I have our happily ever after, you'll be the one alone crying in your kibble”

She just had to get to him before Brandi and he would love her. And unlike Brandi, Glenda knew exactly where he was.

Brandi Lands on her feet?

Shane once read or more likely saw on a television show that truckers often fall into a pseudo REM cycle sleep on their long hauls, but whatever rest he may have been getting ended with a wallop as for the second time in twelve hours one of his retreads came apart. The sign said five thirteen miles to the nearest town so Shane decided to limp there and find a shop.

The disheveled shop at the edge of town wore a “Closed until Monday” sign on the front gate…it was Friday going on Saturday. With a severe case of truck-cabin-fever Shane walked past the flickering neon V C NCY sign to the dirty motel office and picked up a key.

-So Brandi, you used to date Rusty?-

-I did for a long time…too long. He’s just too-he’s just not what I want anymore-

-Then why am I driving you there, if you don’t mind?-

-Well he’ll let me in. I mean he’s still wrapped around my finger. I’ll get what I need and then get back out-

This was just too much for Glenda. The car screeched to a halt and a very confused Brandi was left on the shoulder of the dark road. With Rusty’s place miles away and the motel money still in hand Brandi decided Rusty’s could wait until morning. So she started walking.

Shane grabbed all his gear from his truck; in his experience you can’t trust a small town mechanic, As he carried all his worldly possessions, all two duffel bags worth to his room he nearly bowled over a small exhausted looking woman.

-Excuse me ma’am I didn’t see you there.-

-Oh it’s alright I’m just getting my exercise before bed-

-Shane’s the name-

-Oh uh I’m Brandi, good to meet you-

Rat-Girl

Glenda eased her car up to the curb and watched as Keith's red Ford disappeared into the apartment's underground garage. She fumbled through her purse, grabbing a pen and feeling for a scrap of paper. Finally, she gave up the search and scrawled the apartment address on the palm of her hand. Shoving the pen back into her purse, she grimaced as she realized it was a permanent marker. Great, now she'd have to go around with Keith's address tattooed to her hand until it wore off. Glenda sat for a moment and stared idly out the window. She'd followed him on an impulse with the intent of finding where he lived. Now that she'd accomplished that goal, she wasn't sure what her next move should be.

Glenda was about to leave when the apartment garage door began opening. To her surprise, Keith's car emerged and sped past her. Instinctively, she pulled out and began following him again. The headlights from the oncoming traffic revealed silhouettes of two people in the car. Glenda clinched her jaw as she considered Keith's passenger - Brandi, no doubt.

It was more difficult keeping up with Keith than before. He was driving faster and more erratically. Glenda felt a flash of panic as she considered the possibility that Keith had noticed her following him. But he didn't seem to be trying to lose her. Besides, she thought, Keith seemed like the kind of guy who would just stop and confront anyone he thought was tailing him. Glenda took a deep breath and calmed herself.

Keith pulled onto the freeway and was soon near the city limits. Glenda reasoned it wasn't worth chasing him across the country and decided to take the next exit and turn around. As she approached the exit, she made her way over to the right lane. She realized Keith was doing the same thing. Panic gripped her again and she slowed down a little to open up more space between the cars. She watched Keith's car speed down the exit. There were few cars out at such a late hour and she would be pulling up right behind him at the stop sign. Glenda crept down the exit.

Keith sped off before Glenda reached him. She watched as he pulled into a dirty motel just off the highway. Glenda pulled over to the shoulder where she could get a better view of the motel parking lot. Keith was stopped in front of the motel office but he wasn't parked. Suddenly, Brandi stumbled out of the passenger's side. After a few moments Keith sped away. In the glaring light from the motel's neon vacancy sign Glenda could tell Brandi was upset, maybe even crying.

Glenda considered her next course of action. Keith had sped off quickly and she'd have trouble catching him. Going home was the smart thing to do. Home, where she could still catch a quick nap before the day started. But, she hadn't done many smart things that night and there was no reason to start now. Glenda slipped the car into drive and eased into the motel parking lot. She pulled next to Brandi and rolled down her window.

"You okay?"

Brandi had been staring at the soggy money in her hands and hadn't noticed the car. She jumped and let out a little squeak when Glenda spoke. Annoyed, Glenda snorted and stared at her.

"I said, are you okay?"

Brandi nodded. "Yeah," she sniffed. "I guess so. Do I know you? You seem familiar."

Glenda gritted her teeth. She and Brandi had worked at the same plant for a year. Not the same line, but still, the same shift. She took a deep breath, and pushed her glasses back up from the tip of her nose, and forced a smile.

"I'm Glenda. I work at the plant."

With her glasses back in place, Glenda's eyes appeared shrunken and beady, almost half their actual size. This was a face Brandi remembered. "Rat-Girl", that's how she and Rusty used to refer to her behind her back.

"Oh, Glenda. I remember you!" Brandi's face brightened."Um, do you think you could give me a ride? It's kind of embarrassing. I'm sort of stuck out here."

"Hop in. Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?"

Brandi slid into the seat and pulled the door shut. "Yeah. It's my own fault. I knew he was a jerk. I should have stayed with my old boyfriend. He was a real sweetie."

"Uh, huh." Glenda felt a burning deep in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to have this conversation with Brandi. She was kicking herself for choosing this course instead of home.

"So," Brandi said, "I was wondering. Would you mind dropping me off at my old boyfriend's place? You might know him. Rusty? He works at the plant, too."

Glenda nodded as Brandi gave her the address she already knew. She nodded, but there was no way Brandi was going to see Rusty tonight.

Stop #1

Brandi sat brooding in Keith’s cold, large apartment. According to the text message he sent her hours ago, he was tied up in a “business meeting,” but Brandi was no fool. She had rifled through his suit coat pockets after one of his so-called meetings and found a matchbook with The Ruby’s logo on it. She wasn’t entirely sure if The Ruby was a bar or a strip club, but either way, she didn’t like it.

Brandi didn’t like a lot of things. When she lived with Rusty, she had no problem telling him exactly how she felt, and Rusty, the marshmallow that he was, folded every single time. Brandi liked having that kind of power, even if it was nagging Rusty about something she didn’t care about, such as which dresser drawer he should put his socks in.

But things were different with Keith, or “Hooveykins,” as she liked to think of him. Keith didn’t want to hear Brandi complain or nag about anything. For instance, upon first moving in with him, Brandi announced that she hated Keith’s apartment, that is was too stately, and filled with hard, angular chairs and tables, that she didn’t feel she could be comfortable and cozy there. Keith simply told her she was more than welcome to go back to Rusty. That seemed to be his response whenever she nagged him about anything.

So why did she stay with him? Brandi pondered this question now as she sat alone on the uncomfortably hard, modern couch in the den (Keith insisted it wasn’t a living room). Well, despite the fact she she wasn’t allowed to complain or nag, there was just something about her little Hooveykins. He had a bewitching smile, dressed only in expensive, beautifully tailored suits, and his muscles!....Brandi felt her anger start to melt away.

She must have dozed off, because she was suddenly startled awake by the sound of the front door slamming shut. Brandi yawned and rubbed the back of her neck, which was stiff from lying against the sharp back of the couch. Keith entered the den, and Brandi stood up to greet him.

“Hey, Hooveykins. How was your meeting? Did you get anything to eat? I could order some takeout if you like.” (Keith didn’t believe in using the kitchen for anything other than looking pristine and storing bottled sparkling water and protein shakes in the sleek, black fridge.)

“Pack your things, babe. We’re leaving. Tonight.”

“What? What do you mean, leaving? Like, for a trip? Or for good? And where are we going?” Any remaining sleepiness was now entirely gone from Brandi’s body.

“For good. And don’t you worry your pretty little head about where. Just start packing. We leave in an hour.”

As Brandi threw her clothes pell-mell into a suitcase, she started to get excited. A trip! Just what we need!, she thought. Maybe they would go somewhere romantic, somewhere with palm trees, and a beach. Maybe she could have a say in the type of place they would live. Someplace less...sharp and cold. More of a home. And maybe, just maybe, she could slip in a few complaints here and there, just to make her feel better. Maybe....

They had barely reached the outskirts of town when Keith took an exit and pulled up to a dingy hotel. Brandi looked around at him, puzzled.

“Did you, uh, forget something, Hooveykins? Are we turning around?”

Keith looked at her with his steely eyes, flashed her his special smile and said, “No, babe. This is stop number one. Get out.”

Now Brandi was even more confused than ever. Keith never stayed in crappy hotels like this; his tastes were much too expensive. And why would they spend the night at a hotel in their own town?

“We’re staying here? Tonight? But why?”

“No, babe. We’re not staying here; you are. I told you, this is stop number one. Now please get your bags and get out.”

“I don’t understand...”

Now his smile was more of a sneer, and he said, “What? Did you really think I was going to take you with me? Our time together has expired. Now are you going to get out, or am I going to have to assist you?”

Dumbfounded, Brandi got out of the car and pulled her suitcase and purse out of the back. Keith started to drive away, and Brandi, finding her voice, yelled out, “Wait! Aren’t you even going to pay for this? What about my money -- Rusty’s money?!”

The shiny car slowed down long enough for a few crumpled bills to be tossed out the passenger side window. Then it tore out of the parking lot and was gone.

Still shaken and not quite fully understanding what just happened, Brandi slowly walked over to pick up the money, which was already getting soggy from the midwinter mix of snow and mud covering the parking lot.

He was gone. Her Hooveykins was gone.

Resurrection

Penelope rarely left the outskirts of the city and even more sporadic were trips downtown but today was different.

The city passed dimly by the window of the train rebuilding and renewing itself as the tracks passed from the dank outskirts to the gleaming interior. As Penny rode she remembered her last interview, full of trendy “get to know ya” questions and contrived answers; “Describe yourself in terms of food”-“If I were to describe myself as a food I would say I am most like a deep dish pizza because…”. Last night with Carole, Penny made up her mind that there would be none of that today, “I will simply wow my future employers with my brutal honestly and unprecedented qualifications. Oh and then come home unemployed”.

The walk from the train station to the skyscraper was a mere three blocks but that was ample time for Penny to dig her ipod from her purse and begin the ritual blasting of and dancing to Europe’s “The Final Countdown”.

With her game-face thoroughly applied Penny burst through the doors into reception where she was met by a gaggle of younger women in similar borrowed blouses and interview suits. The blood rushed to her face and the wind from sails as she looked out on this sea of young talent. What did she have that they did not? How could she be successful? Desperation.