Flight (Year 1983)

Flight

(Year 1983)

Courtney awoke, hazy and thirsty, a headache spreading outward from the center of her forehead. The curtains sat open, sending a spear of sunlight into her eyes.

“Seriously Derrick, what the hell?”

She spun her feet to the floor, propping herself up with her left hand and wincing at the pain. The bandage across her palm stained and frayed. She was supposed to change it every day, but the last few weeks kinda blurred together. Courtney surveyed the empty brown bottles and silver cans that stood scattered across the floor like mischievous chess pieces that wandered off the board. 

“What a mess.” 

Courtney stumbled to the bathroom, her pale feet cold on the linoleum floor. She unwrapped the bandage, flexing her fingers. The cut was across the fleshy pad, just below the thumb. It was a deep cut, requiring too many stitches.

"Nothing major," the ER doc had said, "very lucky."

The scar, however, was huge and ugly. Nothing lucky about that. Courtney frowned.

Derrick wandered in, "Hey sleepy head, it’s after 4:00. You feelin’ alright? Can I get you anything?”

A beer, she thought, but said, "A glass of ice water."

"How about an ice-cold beer?"

"Water."

"Got it, babe, anything for you." Derrick turned, humming on his way to the kitchen.

Courtney washed her face, the water frigid. She propped her arms on the sink, staring into the mirror. She couldn’t believe the face looking back was hers. The eyes hiding deep in their sockets, hair matted down on one side of her head, lips cracked like old paint. 

"Who are you?" Courtney said to the reflection.

"Just a man in love," Derrick said, holding out a brown bottle. 

She pushed it away. "I said water."

"It is water, really babe. Couldn't find any clean glasses, so filled this up. No ice though, all out. Besides, don't know how I could jam it down in there,” he chuckled.

"You couldn't bother to wash a glass?"

"Nah Babe, thought you wanted it in a hurry is all."

Courtney turned to the sink and drank from the faucet. Water soaked her hair that had settled in the basin. It felt good. She ran her head under the faucet, keeping it there until her scalp was almost numb. When she lifted her head, Derrick handed her a towel.

"You ought to clean up Babe, you look like a wet rat."

Courtney grunted, pushed him out, and closed the door.

"Clean up the house when you're done," Derrick’s voice muffled through the door. "I'm headed to The Beer Barn to stock up."

Courtney turned on the shower, letting steam fill the room.

Where is Rhonda? Some AA sponsor she turned out to be.

She climbed into the shower, gradually increasing the temperature until it nearly burned. Her skin reddened, and she imagined a baptism. Burning away the part of her that drank. Burning it out of existence. Or better yet, she envisioned flying away, circling hawk-like, higher into the sky, leaving the wreckage of her life below her.

You failed again, Court. You always fail. 

Tears spilled down her cheeks, washing into the drain as though they never existed. Courtney moaned, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around her chest. She looked at her hand, the sewn flesh now bright pink. 

Forever a reminder of who you are — scarred, broken.

She thought back to how she ended up here. It was a long, slow road, but she remembered that first night. That first night, she drank with Derrick till her world spun. Lying on the riverbank, the grass tickling her skin, stars flickering like candles. The crickets sang in the spaces between the slap-slap-slap of Derrick’s skipped rocks across the water. It was all so romantic and grown-up — until she puked in Derrick's car. His eyes flared like embers as they drove to the Super Suds carwash. He’d made her clean it, sick and all. 

She never forgot the pungently sweet soap mixing with the sour stink of vomit. Courtney wretched several times, but when it was all done, she’d decided it was worth it. All part of being an adult. Not yet eighteen, but already a grown-up. 

Dufus. When did you become so stupid?

It was as if the person that existed before the alcohol was someone else. Someone naive, happy, fearless.

Stupid.

The hot water gone, Courtney stepped out of the shower and wiped the moisture from the mirror. Gazing at the reflection for a long time, knowing the face, but not the person.

Somewhere. You’re still in there somewhere Court. You’re better than this! It's not too late. Do something. Now. 

She knew what to do. She needed help, and Derrick was the opposite of help. She needed to be gone before he got back. 

Courtney dressed, threw some clothes in a bag, and wrote a note to Derrick. 

She signed as she headed down the highway.  

Just need to get to Rhonda. I can stay with her a few days. And why hadn’t Rhonda called? Wait. Or did she? 

“Shit. She didn’t call. She stopped by.” It came back to Courtney in slow motion. As if running through sand. “Did I tell Rhonda to go ‘F’ herself? Yes. Yes, I did. How wonderful.”

Up ahead, the yellow and orange light rack of Derrick's tow truck glinted in the sun. It came toward her, back from his beer run. He was still a way down the road, behind several cars. He might not see her yet.

Crap! He’ll follow me for sure.

Courtney turned reflexively at the next right, pushing hard on the pedal. The little red car rattled and vibrated. Coins in the ashtray shook as if in a seizure. Courtney eyed the rearview mirror, hoping to be out of sight before Derrick's truck came into view. As she rounded a curve, Derrick pulled into the lane for a left turn.

Damn! She scanned the roadside, looking for somewhere to pull off and hide. On the left, a bank of pines climbed the slope of the mountain. To the right, fields of tobacco spread outward.

She pushed the little car until she thought it might explode. The steering wheel shook in her hands, and the sweet fragrance of anti-freeze wafted in through the vents. Her left hand throbbed. She hadn't had time to put on a fresh bandage. Courtney threw glances at the mirror, expecting to see Derrick’s truck at any moment. Then, up ahead, an unused service road leading up the hillside, almost overgrown. She braked hard, turning onto it. Her car bouncing frenetically up the rutted dirt and gravel road. After a few moments, she turned a corner, praying she wasn't visible from the street below. She stopped, glancing between the trees to see Derrick's truck zoom past, his hands tight on the steering wheel. His face grim. Courtney let out her breath. 

“That man is a freak. I'm done with him.”

She glanced around. “Now what?” 

The road was too narrow to turn around, and if she backed out, Derrick might swing back and catch her, anyway. No way to explain being out here. Especially since her note said she was running to Dixie Mart on the other side of town. Courtney sat in the front seat, eyes closed, fingering the black stitches protruding from her palm.

“You’re nothing but a hot mess. Nowhere to go but forward, I guess.”

#

Under the canopy of the trees, the world seemed, calm, peaceful. Courtney drove slowly, willing the car to hold together. The engine temperature light flickered and unfamiliar smells drifted in. She figured eventually she’d intersect with another road or come off the mountain somewhere new entirely. Either way, if the little-red-Toyota-that-could, couldn't, she'd simply walk out the way she came in and hitch a ride.

She wasn't in a hurry. Rhonda wouldn't be home until after six anyway, and Courtney was pretty sure she had a full tank of gas. She focused on the road ahead. Two hours in, the rutted track still meandered up the hillside and sunlight released the tops of the trees. Courtney stopped the car.

“You truly are a mega-dufus. Derrick’s home by now, fuming no doubt. Guess it’s time for plan B, B for backwards.

She turned on the headlights and began backing down the road, gasping when the car lurched sideways. She pushed hard on the brakes, but the vehicle had already crunched to a stop. The engine hummed while the car tilted. Courtney got out to find one rear wheel entirely off the road, spinning lazily over the bank. She got back in, and with some rather unpleasant scraping sounds, managed to get all four wheels back onto the desolate road. She turned to start backing down again, but decided against it. It was too damn dark.

She turned back, looking at the road ahead, the exhaust from the car mixing with the fragrance of pine and honeysuckle.

“This is craziness.”

Courtney sat for a few minutes, the night pressing in on the headlights. She turned off the engine and grabbed her bag from the back seat. She always kept a stocked glove compartment with Tylenol, a flashlight, and a small first aid kit. The red plastic flashlight felt light in her hands. The switch clicked as she flicked it, but no light. 

“Really?”

She unscrewed it, no batteries. Inside was a piece of paper. She had to shake the flashlight to get it out. It was a note from Derrick. "I owe you two batteries."

“Jeez, moron, can you not leave my stuff alone?” No. No, you can't.

The chorus of crickets and cicadas grew louder. Courtney grabbed her first aid kit and wrapped her hand with white gauze. She used band-aids to hold it all together. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. She pulled a green denim jacket from her bag, climbed in the back seat, and curled up for a long night's sleep. 

This is freakin crazy Court. How do you get into these situations? 

#

When she awoke, she was hungry and thirsty. She wanted a beer. She imagined it gliding down her throat, smooth and comforting. 

“Damn it, Court. Get off it already!”

She wiped moisture from the window, listening to bird calls and the loud machine gun tap of a woodpecker. Courtney sensed the light more than saw it, but knew the sun was rising. She got out and stretched, the crisp air filling her lungs.

Jeez, I've got to pee.

She walked in front of the car to the edge of the road. The light brightening the heavy mists floating between the trees. Courtney unzipped her jeans and started to bend, her hands on her waistband when she smelled it. An animal. Nearby. 

She turned to see a baby black bear, just behind the car on the side of the road. It was motionless, staring at her.

"It's ok little fella, I’m --."

Then a deep huff came from behind her. She turned to see a large black bear, 10 yards ahead, emerge from the woods. Its teeth bared. Its growl reverberating up Courtney’s spine.

 "Oh shit. It's ok, mama bear," Courtney talked softly, while straightening. "It's ok mama. It's ok. It's ok."

The bear leaned forward, its clawed paws wide on the roadway, the fur on its back twitching with Courtney’s movement. 

Courtney stood beside the hood, slightly crouched, her pants unzipped. The bear lurched forward, feigning a charge. Courtney screamed, scrambling onto the hood of the car.  

Her movement sent the bear lunging toward her, covering the distance faster than seemed possible. Courtney lifted her arms wide, screamed, and stomped her feet. The metallic thumps on the hood echoing among the now hushed forest.

Her legs warmed as pee soaked her pants and dribbled down her thighs. The bear skidded to a stop, glaring over the bumper at Courtney. Its dark eyes measuring her, its teeth bared in a rolling growl. Courtney eyed the remains of berries, or blood, in its gums. Her hair stood on end.

She remained with arms outstretched, eyes locked on the bears, wondering if the scent of pee was like blood to a shark. The bear sniffed at the car, then huffed. The baby trotted beside the car to the mother, looking curiously at Courtney as it passed, then waddled up the road. 

The mother bear followed, stopping briefly to stare back at Courtney, as if in warning. Courtney's arms ached, but she dared not move. Her bottom was soaked and the hood of the car had two fresh dents. As the baby moved out of sight, the mama bear gave one last grunt, then vanished up the road.

Courtney scrambled into the car, the engine humming to life. She cried, and laughed, and cried. Her heart pounding as if she'd run a marathon, but instead of sweat, smelled of piss. She laughed to herself. 

“Only you Court. This could only happen to you. Not exactly how I wanted to pee.” 

She craved a drink and a hot breakfast. Resting her head on the steering wheel Courtney remembered, she used to keep a bottle of whiskey in the trunk. Of course, she'd gotten rid of it when she went sober, but had she replenished it these past few weeks? She'd drunk herself into oblivion and vowed never to go sober again. Derrick moved back in, and they'd returned to their old habits. 

No. I do NOT need to be drinking. It’s not who I am.

Still, she had to know. 

She walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. Old grease and rubber wafted out. She lifted the rug and there in the tire well, wrapped in newspaper comics like a present, sat the shape of a bottle. There was a note on it.

"Surprise babe. You are mine forever and always. Derrick."

That it was from Derrick annoyed her, but not enough to keep from ripping it open and guzzling several swigs. 

It burned going down. The kind of burn that feels good, like a warm fire, or spicy food.

Or a baptism.

"Dammit Court! What is wrong with you?" She shouted to the treetops, gripping the bottle as if to throw it into the woods, then thought better of it. 

She changed her clothes and climbed into the car, the engine still running. 

“Moron, waste all the gas while you’re going nowhere.”

 She put the bottle in the cupholder, the sunlight angling down through the trees. 

“That's all. Not another sip. Not until I get out of here. Then, maybe just a few before I get to Rhonda’s.”

She eased the car forward, driving deeper into the woods. 

One hour. If you aren't heading down this mountain or find another road, you will drive this car in reverse all the way back to wherever you came in, or you will walk.

The prospect of walking wasn't high on her list, but she wasn't afraid of the woods. Never had been; still, her heart raced each time she thought back to the bear, and she took frequent swigs to calm herself.

The sun was higher now, and the air crisp. Courtney rejoiced at seeing a break in the trees ahead. A gravel road, flat and clear, welcomed her. She turned onto it, pausing to take a few more sips, then threw the empty bottle onto the floor. 

“Finally gonna get my ass off this mountain.” 

Her left hand ached, and she put her arm in the window. 

I should just go home. I need to clean up, anyway. Don't want to smell like piss showing up at Rhonda's. She giggled, thinking how Rhonda's face would look when Courtney drove up, looking a mess, car covered in dust, hood dented, and of course, smelling sooo fresh. She laughed out loud.

Dufus. Just go home and start over. Who cares what Derrick will think? You can tell him you went for a drive and ran out of gas. It doesn't matter. You don't matter. 

She relaxed, holding her arm out the window, wing-like. The cloudless sky above shone blue and a hawk circled silently. She was finally on her way back home.

Sunlight beamed through the windshield, warming the car as she accelerated down the hill. Courtney held the steering wheel with her bandaged hand, reaching across the seat for the passenger window handle. She was mid-roll as the car came to a curve. She slowed, then leaned way down to make the final few turns of the handle. Courtney screamed when she lifted her head, pulling hard on the wheel. The turn was too sharp. She pushed for the brakes with both feet, instead pushing on the gas. The engine revved as gravel sprang and popped against the underside of the car and it lept off the road, tumbling down an embankment toward a row of trees. Steel crunched against earth as it bounced, flipping onto its side before colliding into a stand of tall pines. The air smelled of wet grass and gasoline and smoke.

Courtney’s eyes fluttered open, the taste of iron sticky in her mouth. She felt pressure on her back, then her leg exploded in agony, sending jolts of pain with each beat of her heart. She tried to turn, then cried out, her abdomen burning as if on fire.

“Oh no,” she breathed, her heart pounding as darkness edged her vision. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she stared through the missing glass of the passenger window. Above, between rising wisps of smoke, a hawk painted graceful arcs in the sky. As the blackness enveloped her, she whispered, "Is this the beginning, or the end?"