The Lot

I hated the way he looked at me. He looked at me like he was carrying a secret and forcing every passer-by to play a guessing game. “What’s he thinking?” They would wonder. “What’s he got planned for her when they get home?” It was a cold, immovable stare that gave me chills because it wasn’t love in his eyes, but a warning. I better not move. I better not look at the entrance like it’s an exit. And with that stare was a smirk in his smile, a lie creeping in the right corner, that only I could see. He was playing it cool so as not to set off warning bells, not that anyone would hear them.

Nothing could break his focus, not even the waitress who kept asking me if I wanted to try the steak, and only on the third time did he inform her, without turning his head or looking in her direction, that I don’t eat steak. “She’s not allergic,” He said. “She just has poor taste.”

I hate him.

Earlier that evening when he tossed a helmet at my chest and told me to put on my shoes, I lost my appetite. “We’re gettin’ out of town.” He said, “Hope you’re hungry.” And by out of town he meant the municipal cage next door, a cage much like ours but instead of a run-down dive with sentimental value serving as the public square, this cage commissioned a steakhouse.

Normally tourists aren’t allowed in these “sacred places,” but no one turned us away, not with the noticeable patches on his jacket and the circulation-cutting grip he had on my wrist. We had no business there, no power to force anyone into submission should things get out of hand. He and I were almost equals in this steakhouse, this unfamiliar cage, which made it the perfect place for a conversation that was long overdue. If I had decided to run, which was likely, I would have been too close to home and too far away from the next town to do any damage. He brought me here to trap me, but that was unnecessary. All he had to do was look at me. His eyes were like a dog leash wrapped around my neck with a lead long enough to keep me from getting to the front door. The only thing that kept me from screaming at him to stop looking at me was the baby crying from the other side of the room.

“You sure you don’t want anything to eat. This place has some of the best mozzarella sticks.”

“So?”

“You love mozzarella sticks.”

“I love Patrick’s mozzarella sticks. Why waste my time on a mediocre substitute when I know perfection exists? It’s pointless and discourteous.”

“What are you talking about? Are you making up words?”

“No, you Neanderthal, these are real words.” He took a deep breath and swallowed it whole. He twirled his fork between his fingers hoping to distract me so I’d break eye contact first but I sat still as he bore holes into my skull.

I’ve known this man my entire life. I was living with a family off of Main Street, supposed friends of my real parents who died under mysterious circumstances, and he lived with his parents and older brothers on a ranch on the edge of town. His father was a political leader and his mom a first lady, both too important to be bothered with people like me and they made it clear they didn’t want me anywhere near their son. Most of the sons of our town were off-limits to me, so I was never sure why they thought he was special. We went to school together from the time we were learning to read until we graduated. He was always shorter than me, thin and pale, and struggling to keep up with everyone. We had enough in common that we could have been friends, but that never happened. Eventually, he grew out of his gangly, awkward stage and evolved into someone powerful and dangerous giving me even more reason to stay away.

Our community wouldn’t make sense to most people. The rules and rituals that serve to keep us safe and in order are old and barbaric. Outdated, some might say, but I can’t think of a time in history when anyone lived the way we did. Even the Amish would turn up their nose. These rules were old and were unlikely to change, and lucky for me, they did not apply to “outsiders.” I would grow up with the rest of the community kids and then be exiled to The Lot. Being adopted into the community meant I wasn’t held to the same standards, but it also meant there was no hope for a future, so I largely went unnoticed and ignored…until I wasn’t. Unnoticed and ignored sounds sad when you say it out loud, but I was seconds away from freedom. I was so close to The Lot, but they pulled me in at the last second. One minute I was preparing for a life on the literal edge of town and the next thing I knew I was sitting at a steakhouse wearing his ring and carrying his name, avoiding life decisions and pretending I didn’t like steak. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“We’re not doing this.” The gravel in his voice shook me. “We’re not doing this stalling game where you try to avoid the conversation. I gave you a pass, but I’ve let it go on too long. We’re running out of time.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Yes, the hell it is.” His eyes darkened, his patience wearing thin. “We’re in this together, you and me.” He was angry, and truthfully, I had given him plenty of reason to be. I’d been avoiding him. I leave the house before he wakes up then go out into the field until he leaves for work. I set an alarm for thirty minutes until he comes home and then disappear until he’s almost asleep. I’ve been running myself ragged, wearing myself out on purpose until I’m too tired to listen, speak, or entertain his concerns, and all of this to buy time I couldn’t afford, time he wouldn’t loan me if I asked. We wasted the time we had and now we’re living on what’s left. I’d spent my time living in the past, hoping I could travel back and fix whatever mistake I made. This was my last chance to get him to see things my way, but it was a long shot.

“No one explained the rules to me,” I told him.

“I know.”

“You were raised with this mandate, for lack of a better word, but I wasn’t. Quite the opposite. I watched my mom live and die through the hell my daddy put her through and she told me, she promised me, I didn’t have to worry. Outsiders don’t get selected, she said, they just serve. I’m supposed to be working in a bar somewhere on Main, not sleeping in your bed. I’m supposed to be living in The Lot with the other “unwanteds” and “unselecteds,” not shacked up in your family’s hand-me-down house learning how to ride horses.”

“Riding horses in a field you own sounds better than scraping by in The Lot.”

“It’s not,”

“How is The Lot better?”

“You’re not in it!” My attempt to appeal to his sense of empathy didn’t work. He rolled up his sleeves so I could see the blood running in his veins.

I tried to save face. “It’s not just you,” I exhaled. “It’s all of you. You’re all too full of yourselves to come within a mile of The Lot and I promise you they’re all better for it.”

Him and that damn smile, that lying smirk, I wanted to rip it off his face and throw it across the room and into the face of the baby that wouldn’t stop crying.

“Patrick doesn’t serve mozzarella sticks in The Lot,”

“I can make my own damn mozzarella sticks!”

Silence. It irritated me how in control he was, how he always kept his emotions in check, and how he never seemed bothered by my antics or outbursts. It’s like he knew I was faking it, and that irritated me even more. There was grace in his silence with just a hint of violence, and I was dangerously close to taking it too far. My hands were shaking and my eyes were starting to water, so I willed myself, the best I could to calm down.

“Whatever sympathy I had for you and your…situation,” There was a slight change in his face as he spoke, a thinning in the shape of his eyes. “It ran out when you decided to be reckless.”

“Reckless?” Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“Yes, reckless.” The venom in his tone was like a stench. I could feel it; I could taste it. What you did could have cost me everything and I don’t give enough shits about you to sacrifice everything I’ve worked for. I’ve put in a lot of time and I’ve worked too damn hard building a good life for-”

“For who? For me?” I could feel my heart begging to scream, to let him feel every ounce of anger and contempt stored in my bones, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. As much as he deserved it, and as satisfying as it would be, I was on a mission.

“Yes, for you.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And I didn’t ask for you. You’re right, darlin’.” He leaned in. “You were almost to The Lot. You were minutes away from being nothin’ better than dirt before I snatched you up, but this is it for both of us and we have to make do with what we have. We don’t have a choice.”

“I did have a choice and you took it from me.”

“No, I saved your life. I gave you a second chance to make a better choice, so here we are. Make up your mind now because once we leave this town I will make it for you.”

The baby started crying again like a devil on my shoulder telling me to give in and do what he said. “It won’t be so bad,” She screamed. “Who says you’ll drown if you jump in?” I couldn’t look at him anymore, so I turned to look at the mother. She was a frail mousy-haired barely over the age of twenty-one lost cause of a girl who didn’t know the first thing about soothing a teething baby. Could she not recognize that cry? That’s a “Mama, I have bones coming out of my skull and they feel weird on my tongue,” cry. She was lost, overwhelmed, and alone in her frustration. The two grizzly bears at her table were carrying on about whatever nonsense, ignoring her and the child. I took a good look around the room and realized everyone was ignoring her, and if they were ignoring her then they couldn’t see us. All I had was the devil in that baby’s cry and not an angel in sight to even the score. There was no one to tell me to stand strong and not give in. I only had me to listen to and I failed once already. That’s life in the cage.

A tear slid down my cheek and I prayed he didn’t notice, “This isn’t fair. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair. There’s a whole world outside of our community, outside of this community,” I wave my arms in the air, “and they don’t do this.”

“This is who we are and that’s not changing any time soon.”

“I’m not one of you.”

“You’re mine, and that’s all you need to be. That’s enough.” I wanted to cover my ears to keep from hearing the baby, that obnoxiously loud baby with her neglected mother. Weren’t we a trio, an ugly vision of the present and the future? I wondered if she sat with her bear in our dive to have a similar conversation. I wondered if she begged for her life and her future, staring into the eyes of a man who was prettier than sin but couldn’t love even if he was tempted.

“I don’t want to do this.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this. Tell me, to my face, this isn’t what you’ve always dreamed of. You don’t think I didn’t notice you all those years? Do you think I didn’t notice you daydreaming and drooling over idiots who would never look your way? You’re seconds away from getting the one thing you’ve wanted most, and I can make it better than those idiots ever could. I know you want this.”

“Not like this,” I whispered between tears.

“This is it, baby. It’s either this or death and this time you don’t get to choose how you go.”

“And you’d let them do that to me?”

“Never.” He exhaled every held breath into that one word. Never. I once heard it said that never is an awfully long time. Never with him meant never leaving. Never being free. How long could I survive never with him?

“You’re not the only one who watched somebody’s mother go through hell.” He says, never one to leave a moment too awkward or quiet. “You knew my father and you know me. I’m not him. I would never hurt you the way he hurt her. I won’t hurt you.”

“How foolish of you to think this won’t hurt.”

He leaned forward, his eyes softening as he invaded my personal space, disregarding my need to be vulnerable in peace. He hooked a finger under my chin and pulled me close enough to hear him breathe. “I’ll kiss the pain away.”

A flash out of the corner of my eye broke the tension. “Alright, now I’m gonna try one more time.” The bubbly waitress, who was way too bouncy for this time of night, smiled at me, desperate to take my order. Lucky for her, everyone wins except me. I looked at him, but he motioned for me to take the lead. The cruelty in that gesture is something I will never forget.

“I’ll have a steak, medium, no sauce,” I looked over to him again, his smirk transformed into a smile, “and whatever side he’s having.”