Week 5 Theme

White Camaro with black interior, standard with lots of power, what else could a sixteen year old girl ask for? Well, besides the boyfriend that owned it and let me drive it to school to show off to my friends. This had to be the best day of highschool ever! Everyone was hmmm....what's the word...astonished? Or maybe jealous? Who knows, maybe a combination of both, either way it was most enjoyable.

With AC/DC blaring from the speakers I spun the steering wheel to the right finally turning onto the road home. I couldn't help but bounce a little in the seat, full of excitement. I would have to give my little brother a ride once I got home, but I didn't mind. He didn't get on my nerves quite so much as he used to and for this I could probably get him to take my chores for a week!

Pulling into the driveway I had to slam onto the brakes as my ex-boyfriend, Charlie, stepped out from the side of the house, planting his feet firmly in my way. Oh crap, this was not going to be pretty. From his slightly swaying stance I could tell he'd been drinking, and the scar on the inside of my mouth as well as the cracked eardrum I would have for life were only two of the indications of what he was like when he'd been drinking. It had taken months to get away from him and hearing that he was now in hot pursuit of a blonde two towns over I thought I was finally closing that horrid chapter of my life. Apparently I was not out of the woods yet. Man did he look pissed.

I shut off the engine and stepped out, trying to sound friendly and light hearted as I said "You gotta stop that, I almost hit you!"

"You probably should have." He paused then so I thought he was going to say more but instead he pulled his hands out in front of him and that's when I realized he was holding a shot gun. Oh man, not again. How many times could I go through this and still make it out alive. I had gotten fairly good at talking down a drunk but each time a gun got added to the mix things became vastly more complicated. Any empathic abilities I had, that allowed me to gauge people, "feel" them, and disassemble tough situations, became clouded when fear seeped in.

"Nice car," he snidely chided as he walked around it, pretending to appreciate it's beauty. "Who does it belong to?" He paused and looked at me, daring me to lie. It didn't really matter what I told him, fact or fiction, in his present state it would all be a lie.

"Danny...he's a friend." I stammered.

"Bull shit! He's gotta be more than a friend to let you drive his Camaro." The word Camaro slid off his toungue with distaste, like he had suddenly developed a sincere hatred for Chevy's. His demeanor changed just a bit, a little more softer, a little less demanding and more pleading, "How about you and I go for a walk - so we can talk?" I almost would have been persuaded had he not shifted the gun from one hip to the other. I wasn't sure what he had planned but I knew him well enough to know it sure wasn't good, and there was no way in hell I could walk off with him because I was pretty sure I wouldn't come back.

"I can't. I have lots of homework and chores to do and Adam wants me to give him a ride to his friends house." He stood there staring at me, thinking, and as he did I shifted my weight and got ready to run if the gun came up to the necessary position.

Suddenly he exploded, but not in the way I expected. Instead of raising the gun up to shoot he brought the butt of it up and slammed it into the left tail light. There was a momentary tinkling of broken plastic and glass. He raised the gun up again and broke out the right tail light in the same manner, aggressively and with more force than was necessary to accomplish the task.

For just a second I saw a flash of disbelief as he looked at what he had done. This was the curse of a drunk, occasionally little bouts of reasoning found there way through the alcoholic fog. This was a good thing for me because it meant that he might be persuaded, talked down. It was bad because with his realizaion came the realization that he was backed further into the corner called 'too late to turn back now'. He quickly regained his composure as he turned back to me. "Well, now you don't have to give him a ride." He smiled, not a real smile, more of a 'Ha - see I bested you' smile. "So let's go for a walk and you can do your homework and chores when we get back."

I had to figure out something because my options were disappearing along with my courage. I couldn't run into the house and lock the door, he'd just get angrier and I couldn't take the chance of being able to get to my little brother to warn him before the bullets started flying. I definitly couldn't walk off with Charlie unless I wanted to give up on life and I was way too young for that. "Let me take my book bag in the house and tell Adam that I'm going for a walk. Then I'll go with you. Ok?"

"Ok but you better come back out. You got thirty seconds and then I'm coming in." He leaned against the trunk of the car, lowering the shotgun beside him in case anyone drove by.

I grabbed my bag from the front seat and ran into the house. My brother was standing in the living room, peaking out from the edge of the curtains. He looked more scared than me and I couldn't say he didn't have a right to be. "Adam!" I whispered urgently.

He looked over at me and started to whisper back "Crystal what's going...."

I couldn't let him finish and I couldn't explain. Not now. "Never mind that - look at me." He had started to look toward the window again but snapped his gaze back on me. Thank goodness he knew when not to protest. "I need you to call Warren, Charlies father, and tell him to come down here now! The number's on the board. Go now!"

I threw the bag on the couch, opened the door, and took one last look back to see my little brother punching the numbers on the phone. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and closed the door behind me. "So what do you want to talk about? And which way are we going?" There really wasn't much of a choice, on a dead end road, you either go further down the road to the left or back up to the major route to the right. The left was heavily wooded so I knew which way he'd pick, but it was a way to stall him.

"We're going down that way," he pointed with the gun to the left, "and you'll have to wait and see what we're going to talk about when we get there. It's a surprise." That last bit was said with hesitation and I really didn't have to guess what the surprise part was. 'Surprise, here's a bullet for you, and because I love you so much I'll probably give one to myself too.' That old cliche of lost love that you only think you'll ever see in movies went running swiftly through my head 'If I can't have you, no one can!' It was not the time to make mental notes but I found myself making one anyway - no more movies like that!

We started to walk down the driveway and he kept just a little behind me, presumably in case I tried to turn around or run. I stopped, turning slowly so I didn't jump him. "Oh dang it, I forgot I was supposed to feed the turkeys, and you know how upset Dad will be if I forget again. Can you hang on just a minute?"

A puzzled look set itself firmly on his face. He was torn because the more he sobered up the less nerve he had to do what he set out to do, but on the other hand he knew and, at least when sober, respected my Dad. The last time I had forgotten to feed the turkeys was because of Charlie showing up at the house when we were dating and he suffered my Dad's disappointment along with me. My Dad was a man who never had to get mad at you, he would just get disappointed, and that was worse. I counted on this one fact to sway him, and it worked.

"Ok," he paused, "but hurry up." He stepped aside to let me by and I jogged towards the back yard. Just as I reached the corner of the house I heard the familiar sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway and I turned to see Warren, the local Constable and Charlie's father, pulling into the driveway in his cruiser. 'Oh thank God!' I whispered, and ducked onto the back porch and into the house.

Through the living room window my brother and I watched as Warren stepped out of the cruiser and said something to Charlie. Charlie looked from his father to the back yard, to the shotgun in his hands. We couldn't hear what Warren was saying but it must have worked because Charlie hung his head and handed the shotgun over to his father. His father put the gun into the car, laying it in the front seat, then walked back to Charlie and led him to the back of the cruiser. They stood there for a few minutes talking outside of the car, Charlie started to cry, and then his father loaded him into the caged back seat and shut the door.

Warren walked up to the front door and knocked lightly. I opened the door and he walked in. "Tell me what happened." he said, in that no nonsense manner that I think every police officer picks up durring training. I told him everything and as I recounted my fears he shook his head in dismay. "You were probably right. I'm sorry Crystal. Do you want to press charges?"

I thought for a moment than said "No, but I need to get the tail lights fixed before I take the car back."

"Take it down to Bud's after I leave. I'll call ahead, tell him you'll be on your way, and to charge me for the repair. Ok?" His hard face was good but not good enough, I could see the disappointment and fear on his own face, that and the shame.

"Ok. And Warren?" he looked back at me, "He needs help. One of these times I'm not going to be able to talk him down. One of these times he's gonna hurt me, himself, someone else, or all of the above. You gotta get him to stop drinking." I'll be damned if I didn't still care about him, even with as much damage as he had done.

Warren knew this was why I had finally broke up with Charlie, and he knew that none of it had been easy for me. "I know, I know. I think it's time he went away somewhere for a while." He let out a heavy sigh and then let himself out.

My brother sidled up to me as I stood there staring at the door, chewing on my bottom lip in nervous release. My brother stared at the door too. "Do you really think he would have shot you?" I heard him whisper. All I could do was nod my head. He reached out, took my hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze, leaned on me. Yes, I know he would have. I let go of my little brothers hand and put my arm around him instead. He might still, but not today.