middlefork

[The Mason]

all i want is a big black car

February 1, 2019
Omaha, NE

“Hey, sup!” Then of course the long pause, like someone was actually on the line before there came the brassy laugh and “Gotcha, sucka! Leave a message, or don’t whatever hahaha…”

“Fuck.”

Sadie let the phone fall out of her hands. She tried to make a grab for it before it fell past the edge of the mattress and to the ground, but she was a millisecond too late. With a sickening clunk it bounced across the floor once. Twice. She groaned, immediately dismissing all efforts to retrieve it. She lied sideways across the bed, squeezing her eyes shut.

BZZZ! BZZZ!

It couldn’t be.

BZZZ! BZZZ!

Sadie opened her eyes hesitantly; unwilling to be smacked across the face with disappointment again.

BZZZ! BZZZ!

“Alright.”

She said it aloud but she wasn’t sure who it was supposed to be directed to. She reached over the edge of the mattress, feeling around on the carpet with her fingertips until she found the familiar, rubber backing of the phone case. With another sigh, she turned the phone over, looking at the name highlighted across the screen:

Ellie.

Sadie took one more breath. Gave her heart a moment to stop beating so fucking hard. She dragged her thumb across the bottom of the screen, answering the call. Her first attempt to speak didn’t go so hot. She opened her mouth, attempting “hello?” but some weird, gargled sound came out instead.

“Sadie?” came Ellie’s voice over the line.

“Yeah-- yeah. Sorry.” Sadie cleared her throat, rubbing at her eyes a bit with her free hand. “What’s up?”

“Not much? Or-- not sure, maybe? I was just here, making sure Royce didn’t need his litter changed or anything and some guy came up to the house. I--”

“Guy? Who?” Sadie asked, quickly.

“Oh, I dunno, Sadie,” Ellie said, tiredly. “A postal… guy, I guess. He had this huge envelope for you. Like-- I thought maybe he just needed a signature or something but he was a dick. He wouldn’t leave it with me.” Sadie could hear Ellie nonchalantly pull the door of the refrigerator open over the line. Carefree. “Said you needed to physically be here for it so I told him to come back on Monday. I think he is.”

Sadie pushed herself up, seated at the edge of the bed now. She felt her face growing hot. Throat growing tight.

“Who was it from?” she asked.

“Psh.” Ellie took a swig of something. “Looked like one of those dudes that might’ve told me, but then would’ve had to kill me right after.” A pause. “Is this milk lactose free? Is it any good?”

Sadie pushed herself to her feet. The air in the room was suddenly thick. Unbearable. She couldn’t decide whether to walk to the window or back to the bed, so she moved back and forth, pacing, each breath growing more and more labored.

“...Saaaadie,” Ellie called in a singsong voice. “Still there?”

Sadie opened her mouth to speak again. Another weird, inexplicable fucking sound.

“Sadie,” came Ellie’s voice, more direct now, laced with concern. “What’s up?”

“I haven’t seen Sherry.” It came out jumbled. It came out quickly, and without context. Sadie was sure that the sentence, by itself, didn’t make any sense to Ellie Dragomirov, who just sat on the other end, quiet as Sadie sniffed back whatever tears threatened to roll down her face.

“Haven’t seen her…?” Ellie repeated. “I thought she went on some dumbass sightseeing trip or something.”

Sadie finally crossed that invisible threshold and made her way to the window. She pushed it open as far as it would go-- roundabouts three inches-- and gladly accepted the brisk, Nebraska air as it flowed into the room.

“How long has she been gone? Like-- did you guys have a fight or something?” Ellie asked.

“It’s…” Sadie groaned, rubbing at her eyes. “No. It’s not like that. She hasn’t called or anything. Her phone--”

“Her phone gets shitty reception everywhere,” Ellie said, calmly. She paused, quiet for a moment before finally asking, “I mean, the postal dude wasn’t here because of Sherry was he?” Seconds passed, and Sadie made her way back to the mattress, lying across it, choosing to keep her mouth closed-- since it seemed to be the only way to combat the threat of just… openly sobbing. Still, Ellie continued speaking on the other end, her voice growing more distant as Sadie let the phone call to the mattress. “Where did she go anyway?”

Sadie closed her eyes, listening to the sound of an eighteen-wheeler as its transmission was thrown into reverse outside. The occasional BEEP was perfectly timed to block out Ellie’s constant calls of “Sadie?” and “hello?”

“Hello?”

all i want is a diamond ring

October 17, 2018
San Diego, CA

Sscchhhwwuuckkk!

Adam Dragomirov recoiled in disgust as his fist went clean through the pumpkin sitting beside him on the porch. He removed his hand from the spoiled fruit and turned to his comrade, the six-foot-seven Marc Argueta. Marc looked down at him, locking eyes, as if expecting the outburst.

“Marc, what the fuck is this?” Adam demanded, gesturing toward the clearly-rotten pumpkin.

“S’a pumpkin,” Marc responded.

“It’s a pum-- are you fucking with me right now?” Adam demanded. “We’re supposed to make jack-o-lanterns for the kids you asshat. This is a spoiled pumpkin. Wha-- are they all like this?”

“I got ‘em all from the same guy,” Marc said, defensively. “They were cheap.”

“What the fffuuuGGGGHHH. Show me. Show me right now.”

Marc groaned and stepped down from the porch, walking across the grass toward the burgundy 1998 Taurus hatchback parked alongside the curb. He gestured toward the liftgate and, without hesitation, Adam pulled the hatch open-- only to visibly recoil for the second time in a minute. He threw a hand over his nose and turned to Marc with wide eyes.

“They’re all fucking rotten! They’re just painted orange! How much did you pay for these?”

Marc shrugged his shoulders. “Ten bucks.”

“You’re an imbecile, Marc. We have sixteen kids to entertain at this party and you’re trying to send them out of here with post-traumatic stress disorder. We’ll never get hired again. Do you LIKE working as a clown, Marc?”

Marc put his head down, the grim reality setting in. “...no.”

“No. Where’s your wagon? We’re going to the pumpkin patch.”

“It’s in storage.”

“Of course it is,” Adam muttered. “And let me guess-- it’s too big to fit in the rustbucket Taurus.”

Marc blinked hard. “Alright. You don’t have to talk about Tori like that. She’s been through enough.”

“You’re fucking incredible, Marc,” Adam muttered. “Where are we gonna find a ride to pick up the wag-- HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY! HEY! SADIE! SADIE!”

Adam waved his arms as he saw the familiar Durango rounding the corner. Sadie San Francisco narrowed her eyes at Adam from behind the driver’s seat, muttering something to her passenger-- Sherry Diamond. The SUV came to a stop, yards behind the Taurus. Adam jogged over to the passenger window, tapping against it with his knuckle.

Inside the vehicle, Sadie sighed loudly. “Shouldn’t have come. Should’ve just bought a new pair of headphones. Feels like we’re gonna get dragged into some bullshit.”

“Ain’t it always that way though?” Sherry snickered, a bit under her breath. “Want me to punch his ass?” She laughed harder at the look Sadie shot her before she gave the oblivious Adam an upnod of greeting.

Sadie sighed loudly and hesitantly crept her fingers over to the master switch, allowing the window to slide down just a few inches. Adam stood on his tiptoes to look into the Durango, giving Sadie and Sherry his best version of a broad smile-- which was just a slightly less-agitated variation of his normal face.

“Hey, Sadie. Hey, Sherry. What are you guys up to?”

Sadie shook her head a little. “Just came by to pick up my headphones. And uh… then we’re…” Think of a lie. Think of a lie. Think of a lie. “Gonna… go…” Anything. Literally anything. “...feed… ducks…” Shit. “Shit.”

* * * * *

Much like every storage facility across America, San Diego Self Storage on Moreno had a wide variety of lockers, small to very large and all with the blue metal ridged doors that raised up and down much like garage doors. At least the buildings were all clean, even the larger units towards the back boasted clean white walls and doors that were kept wiped down.

“Ugh. It’s gonna take us a minute,” Adam muttered, turning back to look at Sherry and Sadie as Marc pushed open the door of the unit, revealing the excess of filled-to-the-brim boxes that blocked the wagon that the entire trip had been created for. “Come back for us in ten?” CRASH. “...Fifteen?”

“Yeah ain’t worried none. Come on Sadie, wanna show ya somethin’.”

Before she turned away from Adam and Marc trying not to dump shit over on each other or spill their boxes, a tall, older man wearing a pair of honest to God BluBlocker glasses strolled by, though he paused a moment as he took in the quartet.

“Hey, stranger.”

The voice caught Sadie off guard at first. As Adam and Marc made their way toward one of the larger units, keys-in-hand, another gentleman strode past them, moving to shake hands with the first man. He wasn’t as tall, but was built like a guy that used to play football and might have once upon a time scored four touchdowns in one game. His gaze was locked on Sherry, lips pulled into a broad smile as if they’d met millions of times already. She actually pulled a bit of an almost smile when she saw him, giving a nod to the first man in the sunglasses and surprisingly shook the second man’s hand.

“Sup Earl, sup James. Uh…” she paused and grinned, then brightened a bit. “Gonna show off a bit, you know. Gotta impress my…” she grinned again and turned just a little with an easy, relaxed motion. “This is Sadie. Gonna show her the car, you know, damn thing just sits an’ well.”

The pair turned toward her and nodded, James, who was wearing a uniform shirt with the storage facilities’ logo on the pocket looked between Sherry and Sadie just as Sadie spoke.

“Hi,” Sadie offered with a small wave.

He squinted as he looked at her, laughing a little under his breath before he said, “I’ll do my best to remember your face if you need to come through here and check on any of these wheels. I’m better with faces than names.”

“Heh, you aight James. She’s a good ‘un. You be nice and I’ll send you one of them fruitcakes you like for Christmas and shit. ‘Scuse us though, I don’t know how long them yahoos are gonna take and Earl looks like he wants somethin’.”

She laughed that bright brassy laugh as Earl grumbled something about wanting fruitcake too, and she turned to put her arm around Sadie and guide her toward those larger lockers at the back, a grin on her face. “You gonna like this car, bet. Got a big ol’ back seat…”

Sadie laughed out loud, rolling her eyes toward Sherry. “Of course it does.” She said it with an air of sarcasm. “Probably the first thing you scoped out.”

She slowed to a stop behind Sherry, gazing up at the garage door: Unit 69.

Sadie shook her head. Hard blink. “This was on purpose, wasn’t it?”

Sherry laughed and nodded. “Yeah I had to. But ya’ supposed to say Nice.” She drew it out and then with a surprising gentle touch tapped Sadie on the chin. “You’re all cute n’shit when you discover how dirty I actually am I swear.”

It wasn’t until the moment that Sadie stepped into the room that she realized she’d only ever stood outside of the garage. She’d peered in before, usually taking the time to send a text or take a rip off the oil pen, just long enough for Sherry to make whatever switch she needed to make. Standing inside, she realized how much space there was. Under the fluorescents which grew brighter as the door rolled near-shut again behind them, the time and meticulous attention given to each vehicle was obvious.

“Look to the far right, lemme get the switch.” Then some muttering before artificial light flooded the space, augmenting the light filtering in from the open door. There were bikes, of course. Several antiques that would have possibly fetched a good stack on auction including an original Indian, and a couple of Harley panheads draped in tarps. There was an actual 1975 Shovelhead sitting apart from that lot that Sadie might be vaguely aware had belonged to someone that deserved to have it taken from him, and further apart was the Buell that Sherry liked best, sitting pristine and pretty.

But in that back corner was a treasure: a chromed-out baby blue 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS 454.

Sherry strolled over, gently wiping a bit of dust off one of the front pins before she turned and sort of wiggled her brows at Sadie. “How bout it, huh? Pretty as fuck right?”

Sadie’s eyes drifted over the body of the Chevelle. Normally, she wouldn’t have been moved too greatly. She could listen to Sherry go on and on about every part of the car from the body, to the engine, to the tint on the windows. There was something mesmerizing about it, but Sadie would be hard-pressed to retain a majority of the information. This one, though.

“Wow,” is what came out, just above a whisper.

“Yeah.” There was a soft something in her usually sharper tone, but Sherry wasn’t looking at the Chevelle at all.

Sadie found herself drawn to it. Her eyes traveled up and down as she circled the car— and if there was anything specific to look for, Sadie didn’t know what it was, but she knew she could admire it. She knew it looked pretty, if nothing else. And if she couldn’t be shallow in the face of vintage American manufacturing in front of Sherry, then who?

She raised her gaze up past the roof of the car, meeting Sherry’s gaze once again. Her lips cracked into a smile that she couldn’t help. It was the kind of smile that she tried to prevent nine times out of ten, because she hated how she looked when she did. Sherry knew.

“Gah. Stop staring at me,” Sadie muttered, sliding a hand over her face.

Sherry chuckled, a far warmer sound than that usual brassy laugh. “Now why would I wanna do a damn fool thing like that.”

Sadie rolled her eyes, though she was sure Sherry couldn’t see it, hidden behind her hand. She shook her head a little, turning away… eyes creeping over the driver’s door glass, stretching all the way behind the driver’s headrest, making way for a clear view of the--

“Obnoxiously large backseat,” Sadie said aloud. She shook her head, able to stifle a laugh at first… before finding herself unable to contain it, at least for a second. She turned to Sherry, narrowing her eyes, though her lips are still cracked into that same, stupid smile she tried to hide before. “I don’t know why I keep tricking myself into thinking you’re kidding when you say you seek this shit out.”

“Ha, I don’t know, but here we are wit’ it again.” She paused, her eyes going darker, closing part way as she took in that smile Sadie wasn’t hiding now. “It’s kinda cute, not that I’m tellin you that. Fact is, smile like that? Puts thoughts in my head about what we can get up to in that obnoxiously large backseat.”

Sherry moved in then, putting her keys on the chain attached to her pocket and she with a surprising amount of care cupped Sadie’s face, her eyes going to look at those lips. “Wish you’d smile like that at me more often…”

Sadie laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders. “One for the suggestion box, I guess…”

Her eyes drifted from Sherry’s eyes, down to her lips… and she leaned forward, eyes falling closed, one hand reaching up to find Sherry’s--

CRRRRRRRRRRRAAANNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!

“...gah…” Sadie winced as she opened her eyes, the unfiltered sunlight pouring into the garage as Adam Dragomirov crudely pushed it open as he approached from the outside.

“Whew!” Adam clapped his hands together and took a large, single stride into the unit. “Sorry we took so long. We got the wagon loaded up and we can head out whenever y…” He squinted, eyes adjusting to the light inside the garage. “Shit. Not interrupting, am I?”

“Ten minutes too early for all that shit.” Sherry muttered, but Sadie would see the corner of her lips going up in a half-smile. “Nah, we got time for this later. Did you concuss each other gettin’ that wagon out? Nah? Damn, shame that.”

Then came that bright, brassy laugh and she about shook with it, tickled at the expression on Adam’s face.

“Wh--” Adam started, but found his words caught in his mouth as Sadie tossed the keys of the Durango through the air, directly toward him. Adam reached up, fumbling a bit, but managed to catch them before they sailed past him.

“You’re driving back,” Sadie said, giving Adam a nudge as she passed. “Asshole.”

“Assh-- why am I an asshole?” Adam asked with a frown. He backed out of the garage, allowing Sherry to lock up, but still wore a frown on his face before turning to the approaching Marc Agueta, who was still sweating from loading the wagon into the back of the SUV solely by himself.

“Got it loaded u--” Marc started.

“Whatever,” Adam muttered, tossing the keys to Marc. At Mark. They smashed him right in the nose. “You’re driving.” And they fell to the ground.

Marc staggered back a bit, hand over his face, groaning as Adam and Sadie led the way back toward the Durango.

“Gotta work on them reflexes.” Sherry tipped her head, looking at Marc with a halfway serious expression. “How come you didn’t scoop them up and wing them back at… nah, nah. Nevermind, but if you ain’t okay to drive make him do it, he hit ya.”

She sauntered past him, shaking her head and muttering something as she moved to catch up with Sadie. She shouted something after Sadie as she moved to catch up, but Marc couldn’t quite make out what it was.

all i want is a picture of the king

February 4, 2019
Las Vegas, Nevada

“Hey, sup!”

Exhale.

“Gotcha, sucka! Leave a message, or don’t whatever hahaha…”

Sadie wasn’t sure why she was doing it to herself at this point. It was almost like a sick joke. She lied there, eyes closed, phone pressed against her ear with two fingers. She had lost track of time. She was sure she’d slept, but she’d wake up every now and again and do the same thing-- ring Sherry’s number. She wasn’t even sure when the phone had just completely stopped ringing, going straight for the voicemail. Like everything else, she’d lost track.

“Hey, sup!”

Two seconds would pass.

“Gotcha, sucka! Leave a message, or don’t whatever hahah--”

DUUUUUN-DIIIIIIING.

Sadie sat upright with a jolt. The immediate silence that followed made it feel surreal. She’d dozed off. The sun was out, but it wasn’t out. It was smothered by the clouds. It could’ve been late morning. Afternoon. Early afternoo--

DUUUUUN-DIIIIIIING.

“Alright. Alright.”

She pushed herself up to her feet. After three… four steps, she had to pause, catching her balance, allowing the world to come into focus. She took in one deep breath. A second. Third. And finally, her feet started working beneath herself again. She pulled the door open without another thought, making her way to the screen door. On the other side stood a man that was just over five-foot-four. He was petite and older, but Sadie could only describe him as serious-looking.

“Sadie Jacks?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sadie replied through the screen, barely certain that she’d said it loud enough for him to hear.

He was quiet for a moment. He didn’t look like a mailman or a postal worker. He looked… official enough though, dressed in gray slacks and a black button-down. In his left hand were a pair folders; one navy, one brown. He reached into the breast pocket of the shirt, feeling around for a pen as his eyes drifted up toward Sadie, and the toward the handle of the door.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Sadie fumbled with the lock for a second before pushing the screen door open. The gentleman poked his shoulder inside, allowing his back to catch the door as he handed a clipboard to Sadie. In fairness, her eyes drifted over every word twice. Thrice, even. She wanted to know what she was signing for. Waiting for. But the nerves got the better of her. Every word was fucking nonsense. A jumbled mess of letters. She signed her name and was almost callous in her haste to snatch the folders out from under the arm of the stranger.

“Thanks,” she added, as if it helped.

And within seconds, the man found both doors shut firmly in his face.

“Is it from her?”

The words seemed so distant. They didn’t even seem to be coming from within the same room. For seconds, Sadie was convinced she’d made it up in her own head until she looked up and locked eyes with Ellie. Ellie moved a hand toward the folders in Sadie’s grasp.

“Are they from Sherry?” she asked, again.

Sadie nodded a little, drawing a deep breath. “I need you to pack up.”

Ellie shrugged. “Alright.” She threw a hand up. “Where are we going then?”

Sadie moved toward the single, oak table that sat in the entrance of the Vegas home, allowing both folders to drop down on top of it with a SMACK.

“San Diego,” Sadie responded quietly.

Ellie looked taken aback at first before she smiled, throwing her hands up in relief. "Well, shit then. That's easy enough." She laughed aloud. "What a pleasant change of pace!" Ellie chuckled again, shaking her head, turning to walk out of the foyer as Sadie stayed still, hands gripped on either side of the table, eyes squeezed shut.

"Yeah," she spoke aloud.

Easy enough.

Easy enough.

all i want is every finger on your hand.