Midnight Drive

Tires squealed as Chris Jerked the stirring wheel, his palms burning against the leather. The back bumper took out the mailbox, scattering letters across the unkempt lawn, as he came to a stop. Inside a seemingly perfect home, he heard screaming. Dashing inside, his nose wrinkled at the smell of tobacco, liquor, and Febreze. “Alice!” he called out, following the cries upstairs. Where he found her bawled up in a hallway as a man kicked her. Chris’s knuckles cracked as his fist met the back of the attacker’s head, head, knocking him to the ground. He then grabbed Alice’s hand and led her downstairs and outside.

She only let go to get into his passenger side. Chris peeled out, running over the handful of letters. On the midnight road, only the passing streetlights waved them goodbye.

His heart and gut chanted a war song. To go back and finish it. Chris felt his hands shaking, but he bit down and held tight to keep steady. Taking slow breaths, and focusing on the hum of his car’s engine, he calmed. Swallowing, he realized just how dry his throat had become. He slowed down and pulled into a McDonald’s drive-through. “Do you want anything?” Alice shook her head, knees up to her chest. “Can I get a water, a burger, and some fries? Make that two burgers please?” They told him the cost and he drove to the next window and paid. They handed him the food and he parked.

Something about food right now felt nauseating to him. Nevertheless, he bit down on the tasteless cardboard bun and washed it down with the water. “I’ll get some friends and go by tomorrow to get your stuff.”

“No,” she looked at him with desperate eyes. Eyes he’s seen a thousand times.

“You can’t. Not after this. Not again,” Chris pleaded.

“He doesn’t mean it. He just gets into these moods, and I brought up the dishes. I should know better not to mention the dishes. You know his parents would punish him by making him do the dishes. It’s a big trigger for him. He just needs some time to cool off. He usually apologizes in the morning, and everything can go back to normal. Can I just stay with you tonight?” That look, those eyes, if only they’d look at him forever.

“Alice. He could have killed you.”

“No, no, he wouldn’t do that. He’s not dangerous. He just gets upset,” she looked at her manicured nails. “He cares about me. Tells me every day,” tears misty with eyeliner crawl down to her pointed chin. “I’m his precious baby doll and he wouldn’t do a thing to hurt me.”

“That’s not…” he took another bite, chewing on his next few words. “You need to… he doesn’t… if you care about someone you don’t hit them for talking about dishes.”

“He doesn’t hit me. It was just an accident,” she avoided looking at him.

“And what I came in on today? Was that an accident? Did he mistake you for a football?”

“That was because I upset him. If I just-”

“So, you’ll go your whole life dancing around him, worried the slightest mistake would mean an ‘accident.’”

“I’ll get better at managing it and he’ll get better with his anger.”

“And if he doesn’t? and you have kids, and now all of you have him looming over you. Waiting for someone to mention ‘dishes?’”

“What do you expect me to do! I love him! I can’t be without him!”

“I can’t do this anymore Alice!” Chris wrapped up his sandwich and place it back in the bag. “You call me crying, afraid of what he might do,” tears ran down. “And I’m stuck waiting all night. Afraid for you. And if I sleep, I abandon you. Then you text ‘help,’ at midnight. So, I drop everything and rush over and find you being beaten senseless. And for what? So, you can go back in the morning? Leave him. Don’t go back. Please, for me, just stay away from him,” he took her hands and held them gingerly.

Alice looked at his hands, then at the food, then met his eyes with new eyes of her own. Ones he’d never seen before. “How long have you been here?”

“What? I always been here. I drove us here,” Chris slipped a hand free and pulled the burger back out.

“Hm,” Alice went silent, and just looked. She held up the takeout bag. “You mind if I have one?”

“Sure,” Chris finished his sandwich faster than he expected so he moved to the fries. For a moment, nothing but their chewing and the crickets made any noise.

Alice looked at the half-eaten burger in her hands. “It’s just. I thought that was it. That was everyone everywhere. Hiding bruises under makeup. But it doesn’t make sense huh? Why is everyone so desperate for someone if that’s it,” she reached out and touched the back of Chris’s hand. He flinched, having not noticed the bruise till now. “Can I still stay with you?”

“Yeah,” the fries ran out faster than he hoped. So, he sucked down the last of his water. “And don’t worry about the clothes. I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe. Better than anything you had before.”

“I didn’t realize cooks made so much.”

“It’ll take some time, but I’ll get there.”

“How long do you plan on letting me stay with you?”

“As long as it takes.”

“As long as what takes?”

“Till you know how much better life is with me,” Chris said, trying to ignore the pressure of so much anxiety in his chest he was afraid the ribs might explode.

Alice’s eyes bore into him. As if she dug to find the wellspring of emotion trapped inside him. “You know, we were planning on a trip to France.”

“I’ll take you to France, and Italy, and even England. All over Europe. You’ll eat so much exotic cheese you’ll never be able to return to regular old cheddar.”

“He promised me the moon.”

“I’ll get not only the moon but the sun. and every day I’ll place them in the sky just for you.”

“He said…” she grimaced. “He said he’d marry me tomorrow.”

“I’ll… um,” he turned the key, the car engine roaring to life. “I’ll marry you tonight,”

she smirked, “you’ll never be content.”