Lola

This story follows on to When Pennies Rattle. While each short story can be read separately, if you plan to read both, to avoid spoilers, I recommend starting with Pennies and then continuing with Lola.

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I died.

No, like, I died!

So that just happened. I mean, it just happened. Like, a minute ago.

"Told. You. So!"

I'm screaming. "You hear me, you stupid ass warden?"

I'm thinking he can't. No one can.

That won't stop me. I'm screaming mostly cus it feels great to yell from the top of my lungs. Arghhh!

I'm a bundle of nerves. Can't think straight. Dead's not what I thought it'd be.

*

I told you that rotten no good murdering son of a bitch was gonna be the death of me. I'm only the fucking ex-girlfriend he swore he'd cap in the head, stone cold dead.

The instant those fat a-holes figured out a pack of murderous monsters broke out of their prison, I should have been their first call. But no. Nuthin. And now, I'm dead.

Think I'm gonna need a minute.

*

So there I was, doing what I do, minding my business. Then all of a sudden out of nowhere, I mean, I'm in the middle of some Highs, or a Circle K, or I don't know, maybe a 7/11 or whatever, and in walks Ronnie, my "ahmma-hunt-yaw-dawhn-en-kilt-yaw" wild eyed bat shit crazy ex. Just like that -- free as a friggin bird.

I mean, sure, Ronnie always kept three steps ahead. Not only outsmarting me, but everybody. Loved laughing at the cops, calling 'em blue dawgs, making 'em chase their tales.

He followed me across state lines. I was dumb. Let my guard down. They said maximum security would hold him. I said, no way.

My hard-earned tax dollars hard at work.

Out of nowhere there's a gun in my teeth and Ronnie's chasing me round the store waving his anger like a sawed-off. He found me. Said he would.

I knew he would. Never doubted it for a second. Why'd ya think I ran?

Fat lotta good it did me, too. Running. I'm dead.

I can't even wrap my head around it. Dead. Like as in right now that's it, lights out. No more living. Time's up. Poof. Gone-zo. But I was having a baby!

I was gonna be a mom.

Ronnie looked me in the eyes and he swore he'd kill me. Swore to God, in front of witnesses. And he don't make no idyll threats.

Popped his Pa right there in front of me and God and everybody. Popped Pauly too. Sweet Paul Dupree. Shot him dead, right in the gut. He wasn't a threat to nobody. Just working, tightening up the raddy on that old lady's Plymouth, like he was told. As if that old bucket of bolts would ever run again. But, you know, who'm I to say. What do I know?

Point is, he's scary. Like, for real. Ronnie. Him and his nasty ass cousin, too, the both of them. Jackals when they're together. I mean big time scary.

Ronnie kept his word. You look at him wrong, like, 'yaw gohne and dohne it nohw,' he was coming at you. I mean, he said he'd kill his Pa and just like that. Bang. Deader than dirt.

So, yeah, I did it. I went to town and hired that lawyer lady to get that paper, that restraining thing, like everybody was preaching. I mean, people talked me to death about it. Ha!

Like that did any good at all.

But, yeah, my landlady she starts slashing her skeleton paws in my makeup tray fingering my Pat McGrath mothership like I wasn't long for this world. Sheesh. Gimme a break, lady.

"He's gotta a gun trained on you, right now, love," she said and smiled, with her crinkly eyes, like old bag ladies do. She kept saying, "You gotta make a run for it." That part she said with some oomph. Then she squares her bony shoulders and digs deep. And I kind of like respect that if I'm being honest. Practically whispers, "If you've got even one snapping brain cell left in that pretty little noggin of yours," and I'm quoting, you know, she says, "You skedaddle." She actually said that. To me.

She thinks I'm pretty. Or at least I was.

Then she puffed a couple a times, getting in a long drag. Coughed all over, too, all open mouthed and gross, with her floppy old tongue coated sticky with all those little black dots like mushrooms or some shit like she hasn't fully swallowed her meatloaf. But those things were definitely not meatloaf. I can tell you that. Yuck. I mean, it looked like black hairs and whatnots just dancing, without the water part to move stuff. Like fuzzy furs or some wild wind blowing on her tongue.

And she thought I had issues?!

*

So, yeah, Ronnie's a bastard. But slippery, like a fox. They dropped his ass in maximum security and what'd he do? Laughed! My lawyer lady was there. Said he held his belly. Winked at her on his way back to his cell.

Took him a minute to get gone. Three steps ahead. Called it.

He's got inside help is all. Ronnie's a people person.

I moved, what, three times in a month? That's a lotta boxes. One ratty motel, then another. Two dog-free long-term establishments. Hated those. Those places are the worst. I mean, who doesn't love dogs?!

And then, this last place. Shesh. That was the worst. I mean, we landed down by Morgan's Lott, that shit hole, my baby girl and me. Cuz of him.

Didn't matter where I went. How far I ran. Ronnie could always find me. Said he would.

It was just a snack size Freetos and some Kisses and a thingee of lip balm, cuz my lips dry out with the baby and all, and then. Bang.

He killed me. He actually did it. He killed me. That son of a bitch!

Now I can't see a thing. All these tears are coating my eyes like vaseline.

"I hope you rot in hell! You hear me, Ronnie, you SOB. You, too, warden. Hope you're right there with him!"

*

I loved her. More than anything. I loved her so much. I wanted her, you know? Would have named her Lorraina Jane, for my Ma's Ma. I'd have called her Rainey. Rainey Janie. Isn't that just the sweetest thing you've ever heard? I would have treated her like gold, too.

But she's like her Ma. Lots of luck and all of it bad. With him for her Pa, and me as her Ma. I mean, I messed up big time. Ruined her for life. Before she even got to take a single breath in this world.

That's gotta be some sort of Guinness Record.

World's Worst Mom.

*

I'm telling you. He was different. Ronnie. Ronnie Blue Eyes! That smile against a gorgeous head of fire-red hair. Oh, he was something. Smoking. Hot.

What he did to me -- and I don't mean that dirty neither. Hand to God, even his lightest touch gave me goosebumps! Just touching my shoulder or my arm getting me out of the car. I mean, OMG!

It was love. Real love. Sounds so stupid now.

I thought I'd made something for myself. Thought I'd actually found it. You know, movie magic. Sounds so corny now. But I thought it was real. Lasting. Knock your socks off, fall back to bed on a Tuesday good. Ronnie made me believe I was the only one who saw him. Through all his pain and anger and disappointment. Like I was the one who could see the real him and make him want to be better.

He promised me everything. A home, protection, romance. I mean it, we were something great. And boy, did we have fun. He was fun.

Until he wasn't.

*

Started getting jealous over nothing. More like over everything. Like, stuff that wasn't even on me. This one time, the pest control guy comes pissing in the parking lot right under our bedroom window. I didn't even know he was there. But do you think Ronnie believes me? No. Somehow it's my fault. I see some guy whipping it out from 50 yards and it's my fault? When Ronnie sees it, that's it. Broke my jaw for that shit.

Then things got really crazy. He got drunk all the time. Started picking fights too, everywhere. Kept falling me into stuff, smacking into things. Telling me I put whatever in the wrong place.

He loved me, though. That kind of love that hangs the moon. He kept smiling his won't do it again's. I was so dumb. I didn't care if I believed him. I had nowhere else to go.

But then when he burned me, that one time with his cigar, that was it.

He was sorry, after, but mostly because I needed him to be. I don't think he ever meant a single one of his sorries. Not really.

Course, a few days later he went and capped his Pa and Pauly. One, two. Right in front of me. That changed everything. His eyes changed too. Went all wild and cold.

No way I could tell him then. About the baby. Not ever.

All I could do was run.

*

Took the cops less than an hour to find him. In his truck. Behind J's bowling alley, right there camped out in the parking lot. Black out drunk. Keys in the ignition. Gas all but burned off. Neil Diamond on the radio. Cracklin' Rosie. My lawyer lady said so.

Arrested him on the spot. Coupled loaded guns under the seat. Sentenced his dumb ass to life.

Ronnie said it, "Guilty," just like that with his right hand up to God. But he said it with a smile, looking at me.

I knew he playing with me, toying. I could see it. It was in his eyes.

I figured he knew. About the baby. About me lying to his face. Keeping secrets -- his secrets, if I'm being honest.

If he didn't want to kill me before, that'd certainly do it.

*

Thing is, Ronnie can't sit still. Wasn't going to be okay being locked up. Not again. I knew that. Nearly killed him the first time. Always said he'd die first.

He knows people. Inside people. From the last time they locked him up. Those guys had his back. Because he'd have theirs. Loyalty's everything.

I never doubted.

***

She's an angel, you know. My baby girl. I don't mean to say she's here. I'm not off my rocker or anything. I'm not sitting here looking at my baby girl with a set of floppy baby angel wings and a halo, you know, getting our pictures took at the Pearly Whites. She's not here. I know that.

But it breaks my heart, feeling her but not seeing her no more. I need her, with me, with her Ma, in my arms. She needs to know how much I love her. That I wanted her. That I did everything I could to keep her safe.

It wasn't enough. I failed her.

*

I'm gonna find her. Once I figure out how to move my legs.

I don't get how death works. I might not even have legs. But if I do, I can't feel'em. I can't tell where I stop and where the darkness begins.

"I am getting my daughter back!" I'm screaming now, like my life depends on it. Maybe I'm crazy, shouting into the pitch dark like there's someone out there watching and listening and giving two shits about me. "Well, I'm here, bitches. Deal with it." I've got a daughter to find. "Try and stop me!"

I'm probally talking to my damn self. But there could be cameras -- not like that'd be impossible. God made cameras. And all the best TV shows have 'em. Of course, it might not matter. This place is the absolute darkest I've ever seen.

***

I'm exhausted. Slumping over. Fighting for breaths. I hate it, how it feels, having that stupid plastic contraption thing over my face. Come on now. Would it kill you to take your hands off of my ribs? That hurts!

That's the worst part about being dead. Being alone. My baby girl not being here with me. Ronnie took her from me.

But I took her from him first! Ha! And that's forever. "Take that, Ronnie, you arrogant bastard!" At least I kept her safe from him when I could.

Wait. Wait a sec. I feel. I feel pressure. How's that even possible?

What does that mean?!

Am I alive? Did I not die? Are you kidding me?

I'm alive?

I'm alive?!

Yes! I'm alive!

I'm looking out, into the world, the beautiful world, and I'm seeing stuff with my own two eyes. I'm alive.

Something's coming into focus. Sparkly white and super clean. Some person's holding my hand. No, taking my pulse. I have a pulse! I have a pulse? I have a pulse!!

I try to talk. "Baby?"

The nurse nods. Smiles. Understands me.

I'm not dead!

The fetal monitor?!

"You're baby's strong. Good vitals. Bullets missed her."

Rainey's hanging in there.

She's a fighter. Just like her Ma.

********

Copyright © 04/11/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.