Bottled

Bottled

By Heather Ann Martinez

Where do you find peace? When do you lay all of your cards on the table? It can be so much easier to hold a poker face. Does anyone really have to know about our secrets, the skeletons we keep hidden behind the clothes in our closets? Do we really need to share what's been bottled?

Of all the things I've done, this is the mistake you hold against me. It is a doozy. I won't deny that, but it wasn't like I was settin' out to hurt anyone. I didn't mean for things to go the way they did. You know that. I can't take back what happened, but I do want to make amends for it. I'll do anything you want. You want me to go to therapy. You want me to go sit on some shrink's couch and comb through my not so loving childhood. I know my parents have some pretty well kept secrets in their closets. Who knows what my grandparents were like. It is a miracle they lived as long as they did considerin' how much they drank and gambled. How long were we on the run from the loan sharks? How many times did we change our names, addresses and city stickers? How many times did I change my hair, my accent, my story? My mom was either my aunt, an older sister, a cousin, or a family friend depending on what our new identities were.

You can clearly see I was messed up from the start. It's no wonder I couldn't keep a job, a home, a steady relationship. I never had to say much. I knew how to get by on the path that was not black and white but a very smooth grey. I pleased the government by looking legit. I paid my taxes, voted when it suited me, kept a low profile...well until now. I kept food on the table and was always happy you didn't ask too many questions about where it came from. How we covered rent, mortgages, cars, our weekend getaways...well let's just say I knew a guy who knew a guy. I knew how to create fake passports and fake driver's licenses before I was legally old enough to drive. We never went to the same place twice with the same name.

I'm coming clean now. No one was supposed to die. Not like that. It should never have happened. If Jack had stuck to the plan, we would not even be talking about this in our driveway. We would have been long gone. We would have been drivin' up the coast to Atlantic City. I'd have one around you and be holdin' steering wheel without a care in the world.

Well, that's not gonna happen now. You're not going to forget you saw Jack's body drooping over the back seat. His poor corpse covering suitcases of precious gems and lots of money. I know you want me to take responsibility for everything that happened. After all, Jack was just my wingman. He didn't know how to deal with those guys. He barely knew how to brush his teeth. He wanted to learn though. He just didn't have the stomach for it. His palms were shaky. Sweat poured out like fountains from his forehead and the guy just couldn't let go. He wouldn't drink, spit or smoke. Everything weighed on him. I knew he was going to pee at any moment. And these guys showed up. They were early for the drop. They, they saw Jack. They got really nervous and thought he called the cops. I tried to tell them Jack was an okay kinda guy. I tried to tell them that even though his bed-wettin' days were long behind him, he wouldn't rat out a soul. Jack had standards. He was loyal to the end.

They didn't believe me. That's where I made the mistake. I messed up. They could see doubt cloud my eyes. I didn't keep my composure. They saw right through my bluff and then he went down. Jack's long torso shot twice. Then they left. They just left. They didn't even say a word. They destroyed one man's life in the blink of an eye and crippled another's. However, I got the last laugh. I switched the suitcases when no one was lookin'. They took suitcases filled with rocks. Jack's body covered the ones filled with hundred dollar bills and precious gems.

For what it's worth, I really liked Jack. He was stupid as an ox to get mixed up with me. I told him it was going to be risky. I told him he might not even see any rewards, but he wanted so desperately to get out of his desk job. He hated his boring nine to five. He hated sitting in traffic. He didn't realize following me meant an early grave. I told him my life wasn't easy, and I gotta say the only way I can make amends is to come clean. I didn't want to lie to you any more, Honey.

So, if you want to call the police, go ahead. I will tell them what happened. I did put Jack in that situation. I'll own up to the part that is mine, but I did not kill him. If they try to pin it on me, I will disappear. No one will find me. You know I have been pretending to be someone else most of my life. What's another passport?

On the other hand, if you let me bury Jack somewhere they aren't going to find him, we can still leave. We can even go tonight. It's up to you. I'm confessing my part in Jack's demise. I really screwed up. I shouldn't have let him tag along. He wasn't ready to be my wingman. He just liked the way that sounded. He was so desperate to belong somewhere even if it meant losing his pathetic life. No one is really going to miss him. He didn't have a family. He was a paper pusher who worked in an office with three hundred other paper pushers. He is easily replaced. Oh, don't look at me like that. I know he must have been important to his parents or somebody. If he ever mentioned having anyone, I wasn't really listening. He just wasn't all that important to me. If I'm being perfectly honest, he could have been the buzzing bee next to my ear that I'd swat at. He just wouldn't leave me alone. Now, I've got to put him six feet under. Are you going to keep this one? Can you keep the lid on this bottle?

Atlantic City is gorgeous at dawn. There's something about the sun comin' up over the horizon reminding you there is another day to be someone else in rooms full of people ready to risk their shirts for the chance at having all their worries taken away. Jack would have loved it here.