Mad Man

The hydrangea plants flourished a healthy bundle of pink on their stems while fluttering softly in the gentle breeze. Tuesday morning, middle of June. I sat on my porch wearing a basic white tee and dirty red Converses, hiding just the slightest bit from the fabric of my flimsy jeans. 

“Will!” Mom shouted from behind.

“I’m on the porch! Can you bring Bobby?!” I screamed back.

Mom came a minute later, and I saw a red mark around her lightly-freckled arm from carrying her heavy tote bag. The patio swing creaked as I got up hurriedly. I got hold of the straps, the weight of the contents pulled me forward, and it felt as if my bones were about to break. What the heck did she pack? I grunted, feeling the tips of my ears turn a dusty red when I saw my mother’s giggly smirk behind her hand.

“Hey, this thing is b-barely heavy,” I sputtered from utter embarrassment. 

She rolled her eyes and smiled, patting my back and leading me to the car. The back seat of her red Cadillac conveyed an odorous smell, a fresh tropical scent. Once situated, I held Bobby close to my chest, softly caressing his rosy-pink ears. 

Bobby is my everything. Dad gave it to me as a present when I was locked away in my room during that terrible quarantine. Kids at school made fun of me for bringing a pink stuffed animal. They called me a queer and picked on me for running away. I’m not tough, not in any shape or form. I can’t stand up for myself without holding my mother’s hand. How pathetic, right? Twelve and still a baby. 

I grinned at my fuzzy little friend, squeezing him tight. No matter how negative my mindset, my thoughts would turn at the sight of him. Mom started the car, cranking up some good old “California.” Perfect for this schlumble morning. My insides felt tingly, the groove, my head was nodding, and my hands began clapping. “California, here we come~ Right back where we started from~” I sang happily, feeling as if tears dripping with joy would spill from my soul. I just loved those moments, if you know what I mean. Moments where your body feels droopy, weightless, however, still movin’ to the rhythm rocking side to side. Singing to your heart’s content, not caring about that voice crack, but the feeling of living the moment, being able to let your worries drift away at sea, and even better - with someone you love dearly. 

The windows welcomed the bright sunshine into the car, where we waited for the green light. My golden-brown hair gleamed against the striking rays. My thinly light hair strands could make one think of hay. 

“Go!” I squealed, “Go!”

Mom rumbled with laughter as she hit the gas, and I grabbed onto the car’s ceiling handle, also catching the giggles. “Woo!” I whooped with excitement.

We came across a red light. Mom whipped out her lip gloss and smeared it on. Then she dropped it into the pit hole. She leaned forward to look for it, and then the traffic lights turned green. 

HONNNK!

“Mo-” I was cut off when I heard a deep and angry voice of a man, coming from the other direction… 

“MOVE, YOUR GODDAMN CAR!” The hollering voice spoke irately.

“Okay, I-I f-found it! I-I’m going, Jesus!” I finally saw my mother’s brunette curls bounce when she rose from the bottom. She screwed the cap back on, and her hands trembled a little as she did. Mom stepped on the pedal, zooming straight forward. I sighed. People these days.

Nevertheless, we continued to sing at the top of our lungs until another drawback. Mom groaned when she saw the low fuel sign begin to blink. 

“Shoot. Didn’t realize we needed more gas.” She mumbled under her breath. 

We pulled up to a gas station around the corner. I nodded when Mom smiled at me. She scurried via the right side of the car. 

I shifted around a bit, humming. I heard a loud slam of someone’s car door from behind, and I noticed something. My eyes trailed up and glanced over at the rearview mirror, catching the fitting of a distressed denim jacket that clung to podgy arms. It looked like this guy was coming out of his truck, and his vehicle seemed like a Chevy Silverado. I didn’t think much of it as I scooted over to the window and watched Mom fill up the car. Her right dimple made its appearance when she chuckled, waving at me. I returned a small smile until Mom’s face had turned into concern. I furrowed my brows when she pulled out the gas pump frantically, and a moment later, she was back inside the driver’s seat, her hands firmly tightening around the wheel.

“Mom, you okay? Mom?!” I reached over and shook her shoulder.

“He has a- a gun. We got to go, sweetie. We g-gotta go right now, Will!” She said with such heavy breathing, buckling her seatbelt.

I blinked in confusion. My body froze from the horrifying news I suddenly processed from my mother, who looked terrified. I pressed back against the hot leather seats, and my fingers clung to the passenger seat’s headrest. What was happening? A gun? Did that guy have a gun?!

My Mom drove so fast that it felt as if my heart racing wasn’t fast enough. My thighs fissioned in fear while I got on my knees to spin around. I peeked over into the trunk, then the back window. The truck. That silver truck!  

My eyes were wide like plates when I perceived the man’s outraged expression. His brows were a bushy black, making his eye sockets appear darker and threatening. He had a cigarette clamped between grinding teeth. My mouth opened, and I heard it release a late gasp, ducking back down into my seat in fear. 

I clenched onto my bunny’s arm, squeezing it tightly for comfort. I was panting and glimpsed Mom digging her hand inside her purse, which was sitting on the passenger’s seat. She fished out her flip phone and pushed it open with her thumb. Her eyes flickered at the road, and the phone, the road, and then the phone. At first, she hovered over the first number. She then desperately started to spam the buttons. 

“Bill? I-It’s m-”

Beeeep. The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please call agai-

“Why isn’t he picking up the damn phone?!” Mom cried in frustration mixed with anger.

I wondered too, why wasn’t Dad picking up? Seconds before I planned to help Mom, I stood on my knees again and peeked over the seats. That guy! He was pointing a gun up! I gulped while biting my lip and sputtered, “Call 911! Call the police!” My heart began racing again after witnessing the actual weapon that had alarmed my mother.

She nodded in agreement, her left hand squeezing the steering wheel as she made a left turn. It was sunny and humid outside, though Mom’s fast speed forced the wind to whip across my face, felt like a powerful cool breeze. The whooshing sound made me think of a helicopter or plane. However, the force of the wind didn’t last long. We were forced to stop to accommodate the buzzing traffic crossing our would-be path.  

Are you kidding me?! Now there’s traffic?

When the car stopped, she brought up the phone once again. A black screen was all it was now. The corner of her eyes began to swell up with tears, and she repeatedly whimpered while sniffling between her words, “No, N-No, please, n-no, no-” 

I stretched my arm out, and at that moment, the menacing silver truck behind us slammed into the back of our car. Time seemed to stand still as one by one, my senses processed what was happening. My ears recognized the awful pop and crunch, my insides felt the violence of sudden movement forward, and my eyes captured the horrifying scene of my mother's nose smashing against the steering wheel. A stream of trickling blood commenced its' path down her face like an ellipsis at the end of a trailing thought. The enormous vehicle had vandalized the back of Mom’s Cadillac and her nose did not look good at all.

“Sh- Will! Tissue, now!” She said through her quivering lips. My hands shook. My cheeks burned with hot tears as I managed to squeak out an “Okay.” Quickly, I delved into her purse, my fingers clasping onto the small crinkly plastic wrapper of a travel-sized tissue packet. I plucked it out hastily and dug my nails in, ripping it open. As I did, Mom suddenly stepped on the gas, and she lifted her head to focus on our escape. Her creamy cheeks were now glossy from the continuous dribbles of her watery tears, her nose was beginning to take on a purply-red hue, and her upper lip was a ridge of bloody red. Yet her expression belied her agony. Instead, a veil of true bravery overtook her face despite a series of silent hiccups.

I waited not a second to start wiping her nose with the soft white tissues, sobbing as I carefully lowered my hand to allow her to still see past the front window, to keep driving. To keep getting away from this monster. We need to lose this mad man!

I sniffled several times, fighting to keep my composure. I stared into the rearview mirror and saw that the truck still followed us - matching the horrifying speed we were engaging in. I gently squeezed her nose close, and my shaking fingers now shared my injured mother’s blood. 

She panted heavily and gulped as her eyes gaped and scrutinized left and right. I squinted my eyes and searched, noticing a building that looked familiar. “B-Bow…” I muttered as I read the upcoming sign. “Bowie’s Burgers! Mom, turn left!” I said aloud.

Bowie’s Burgers was my old hangout spot. Mom used to take me there to meet up with my friends and their moms, but that was when I was little. I didn’t exactly know why I told her to go there. I just needed to offer some kind of assistance. She switched to the right lane, and almost in synch, we both started to pant and watch the moving pedestrian in surprise. At the pace we were driving in, Mom had no other option than to twist her arms right, as far as the steering wheel could turn. My free hand grabbed onto the dangling dreamcatcher that hung from the rearview mirror. My mouth opened, milliseconds before we drove over the grassy side of a curb. Jerking, We cringed from the sound of the scratching metal of a stop sign grazing roughly against the right side of the car doors. “M-Mom!” I panicked and shouted, almost in a scolding tone. She eventually steered left, returning to the road. Mom was softly hyperventilating, she was honestly speechless by the looks of it, and I didn’t blame her. My fingers kept a steady squeeze of her nose, I needed to stay calm and do my best to help her, I couldn’t afford to see her wrestle through any more pain.

I glanced back, the tan-skinned bald man had a much more furious look plastered across his face, and I could see him spit out his wasted cigarette out the window. We hit a pothole on our way, Mom and I bounced and got startled though that didn’t stop us from fleeing the pursuer behind us. 

We approached the burger place then Mom choked a bit from the blood. I let go of the tissue immediately in response to start rubbing and patting her back while looking behind and front. “It’s okay, i-it’s okay, everything w-will be alright-” I kept reassuring while holding back any more tears that were about to make a move. She coughed into her arm, finally pulling up to the parking area. “Watch out!” I pointed towards a van backing up from its parking spot. She gasped and swerved swiftly. She parked and flung opened the car door and gagged, holding her stomach below her chest while roughly wheezing, throwing her head forward to cough out the blood. 

“Mom!” I yelled and shifted to the left side of the car door, getting out and stumbling on my shoelace. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I screeched a wail, “H-Help! S-Someone, please h-help!”

I hugged my mother close and continued to cry out, balling my eyes as I paused to stroke the back of her tousled hair. Now I just sobbed, and at the worst of times, I heard the slam of the truck’s door. My head turned back, only to see the rosy-pink ear of Bobby’s, slightly sticking out from the floor of the car, his presence was there although he didn’t offer comfort like he usually did. Then I could see a shadow approach us, enlargening… My eyes would widen and then squeeze shut as I listened to the cock of the man’s pistol. The radio still playing in the car, “Hustlers, grab your guns. Your shadow weighs a ton.”

I shuddered and sniveled, embracing my arms around my mother as if she were a giant teddy bear, “Please, don’t do it.”