What Happened to Tommy?

“She’s in there,” I could hear them say. I’m sure their coats were white and their clipboards metal. All they could see was a broken-down woman with tears streaming down her face. Sometimes there were smiles and other times complete sadness, but I could never make a sound. Never a word. Never a gasp. I couldn’t see the white walls but I could feel the padding around me. I wished they felt more like the feathery pillows on my MaMaw’s bed that I wasn’t ever supposed to be on and less like the stiff leather seats of my dad’s old Ford Ranger, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Where I really was, was where I needed to be and there was no use for physical me anyway.

My dull, brittle yellow hair on the outside was now a vibrate platinum blonde, bouncing on top of shoulders covered by a much too big jacket. It was a letterman jacket, but it wasn’t mine. It was his. I couldn’t believe it. There he was.

“Tommy,” I whispered.

It was him. I touched his chest as he swooped me up into his arms. Little Richard was playing on the juke box and I knew where we were instantly. Bubba’s 24/7 Diner, just outside the city limits. The air smelling of grease and the sweet, buttery smell of onions frying to perfection took me back. Back to the days where we would celebrate Tommy’s victories as the chosen one. Your typical cliché, state of the art, small town, hometown football star a talent that the town had never seen before. I was his cliché cheerleader girlfriend, in the same homeroom since kindergarten, and our future was destined to be bright.

I returned my attention to his face, he was smiling, clearly just winning one of the big games. He sat me down in our favorite booth, right in the middle of the diner. It only made sense since we were the center of attention anyway. He focused his devilishly dark brown eyes that shone like the shots of whiskey he used to hide in a flask in the inside pocket of his jacket. I felt my way to the pocket and there it was.

“Whatcha doing, Nance?” he asked, his wild eyes seemingly shooting amber daggers, growing blacker with dilation.

“Lookin’ for the whiskey, baby! I wanna celebrate!” I shouted, throwing my arms around his shoulders and there it was again. The Ford Ranger feeling. The eyes I couldn’t see that were on me. “Why can’t I see?” I shouted out into the air.

“Did you sneak a few swigs of this?” Tommy asked, holding up his flask high enough for me to see while taking a swig.

There was no way I was drinkin’ with Tommy. I only ever got drunk that one time, and that was graduation night, long after those crisp autumn nights where the boys of summer ruled small town America. That was the night I got pregnant with our daughter.

“I don’t drink that stuff, Tommy!” I shouted out, forcing my eyes wide open. I was back in their reality and Tommy was nowhere to be found.

“Where is Tommy?” I shouted out at the window where I could finally see their inquisitive faces studying me like a wild caged animal. “Why am I here?”

I saw a change in their facial expressions, I could swear one looked as giddy as a school girl on her first day. Before I had a chance to adjust myself to my physical reality, I was gone to Bubba’s 24/7 Diner once again. The same Little Richard song playing as though the juke box didn’t have any other options. “Wop-bop-a-loo-mop alop-bom-bom! Tutti Frutti, aw Rudy, Tutti Frutti, aw Rudy!”

I saw Tommy chatting with his guys from the team, reenacting all of their game winning moves from the night. I couldn’t help but smile, these were the true golden days. The days where the only worry I had was if I finished my schoolwork on time or if I was going to be late for curfew. Why was I here? Why did I keep sending myself back here? I didn’t understand. What happened to me?

“What happened to me?” I shouted out into the air, not sure which “reality” would hear me.

Tommy whipped his head over to me and his glowing, hearts topping smile turned to a look of concern.

“Are you ok, Nancy? You are acting kind of funny,” he asked.

“How much whiskey did I drink?” I moaned, hoping that this could be real and I was still the 17-year-old girl sitting here.

“Darlin’, I don’t know if you had any. You usually aren’t up for drinkin’ this stuff,” he replied, his concern deepening.

“Tommy, I don’t know what is happening to me. I feel like I am not supposed to be here, like something bad happened and I can’t figure it out.”

“Is it because you killed me?” he responded bluntly.

I was dumbfounded. How could I kill someone that was right in front of me? Were the guys behind the mirror really real?

“Aren’t you going to say anything, Nancy?” he continued on, the concern drifting from his face as anger swooped in.

“Remember? Nancy, why can’t you remember?” he kept inching closer and closer, I could smell the whiskey on his breath and it made my blood start to boil. That smell, more of a stench. I pushed him as hard as I could and glared into his eyes.

“I remember!” I shouted back in return, the diner and the padded room flickering back and forth in front of me. I thought I might be having a seizure it was so intense. “I remember!” this time screaming it.

The roulette stopped on Tommy and he was the only one standing there. The diner was empty and quiet except for the sizzling sound of the fryer and the smell of onion rings hazily hanging through the still air.

“Why did you kill me, Nancy?” he shouted at my face, inches from my nose. He spoke so viciously I could feel the bits of spittle spraying from his mouth. “WHY DID YOU KILL ME!” he screamed louder.

“BECAUSE YOU ARE AN ABUSIVE ALCOHOLIC!” I screamed back as the words escaped with no thought process. “BECAUSE YOU HAD AN AFFAIR WITH YOUR SISTER-IN-LAW!” I continued to scream at him. “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, INSTEAD YOU WERE THE NIGHTMARE FROM HELL THAT RUINED IT!” I screamed until my voice was hoarse and the coughing started. My eyes were closed as the pain of it all came rushing back.

“I killed Tommy.” I whispered, clearly back in the padded room with my arms plastered tight against my body in a straight jacket. “I killed Tommy and I killed Lyla. It was too much. Too much pain, too many years wasted on a marriage only I fought for. You would think 20 years together would mean something, but it only made him hate me more. I couldn’t take the abuse anymore, I just couldn’t, so when I found him in bed, MY bed with Lyla, I snapped. I walked robotically to the kitchen to grab a knife and that is all I can remember until I was being handcuffed. I was covered in their blood, a thick coat that I couldn’t take off or wipe clean.” I continued, my whisper turning into sobs.

“Why couldn’t he love me? Why couldn’t we have a happily ever after?” I continued on, trying to blink myself back to Bubba’s 24/7 Diner. If I could just talk to him, if I could change things. I couldn’t. The memories of my entire life with him flooded me and then I was numb. Once again silent, staring off, trying to forget what I did to end up here.

“Nancy, welcome back,” one of the white coats said. “Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

“No.” I responded without looking back.

Tears started to steam down my face again. Where was I? Why was I here? I drifted back into the memories of when my life was happy and felt full. A world where Tommy still existed and still loved me. I found my spot in the middle booth again, alone in a big empty diner, hoping he would come back to be with me.