End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (9 page)

Chapter Eighteen

I met Johnny, Brett and
his date for the evening, Ruth Callahan, at the end of a long dirt driveway. We
were on the outskirts of town and it was so dark I could only make out shapes
of things. Walking the last half mile had been treacherous.

“What’s with the bag?”
Johnny asked when I showed up.

“I left home.”

“For good?”

“Yep.”

He grunted out a “huh”,
but didn’t say anything else. He slung an arm around my shoulders as we walked
toward an abandoned one story farmhouse. The ground crunched under our feet and
the red cherries of our cigarettes moved through the night like the red eyes of
some wild creature.

Brett swept broken glass
off one of the windowsills and then helped Ruth through. He climbed in after
her then Johnny helped me. He handed over my bag before making his way into the
deserted house.

Mustiness permeated the
building and dried leaves rustled as we moved through the front room, which
must have been the living room at one point. Brett led us down a narrow hallway
to the kitchen. A beat up table with mismatched chairs had been assembled in a
corner. He lit a match and I saw a melted candle in the middle of the table.
Wax had oozed outwards and hardened like lava from a volcano. He ignited the
wick and faint light flickered around us. I could make out the kitchen
cabinets. Most of the doors had fallen off while those that remained hung open
at awkward angles. Old beer bottles, cans and liquor bottles littered the
counter. Cigarette butts carpeted the floor.

The walls around the
table had been marked over the past ten years or so by teens passing through
Taylorsville. I fished a pen out of my bag and etched my name into the plaster.
Brett pulled a bottle of RonRico rum out of the inside pocket of his denim
jacket. He unscrewed the cap, took a swig and passed it to Ruth. She took a sip
and grimaced. I laughed, lit up another smoke and handed it to her.

“This will help take the
edge off.”

She said thanks and took
the cigarette. The bottle made its way around the table a few more times and
with each passing, my face grew numb. Brett lit up joint and that joined the
rotation. The argument with my parents was far in the past and I was living in
the now, sitting on Johnny’s lap.

Johnny grew increasingly
restless until he stood up and took me into one of the bedrooms where he shut
the door behind us. Kneeling down on an old, stained mattress, he pulled me
towards him and started placing soft kisses on my stomach before starting to
unbutton my jeans.

“What are you doing?” I
giggled.

“You know,” he answered, tugging
my jeans down to my ankles. I stepped out and kicked them to the side. My white
cotton underwear almost glowed in the dark room. He tugged those off too and
they quickly joined my crumpled up jeans. He pulled me down so I straddled him.
Rough denim against bare skin startled me a bit, but also added to the tingling
sensation I was experiencing. Next, he removed my shirt and he paused when he
realized I didn’t have a bra on. The pause was temporary for he quickly began
exploring my breasts and my nipples grew hard in response to his touch.

My fingertips went numb
with cold, not from the temperature, but from nerves. I was about to lose my
virginity and was terrified. Even with our heavy petting I remained distracted
by what came next.

Johnny flipped me over
onto my back. Dust puffed up around me from the mattress, which smelled like mildew
and stale cigarette smoke. He stood up in front of me and took off his clothes
He tossed them over in the corner by mine. He had a lean, yet muscular build
not yet marked by any tattoos or scars. I admired the view. The closest we had
come to going all the way was in his bedroom after school a few weeks ago. His
little brother came home and broke up the party. Here we didn’t have any
interruptions. My eyes lowered to his erection and my pulse fluttered in my
neck. Slowly Johnny lowered himself down so he hovered over me, his arms on
either side of my head. I shifted under his weight and realized my hair was
caught underneath his hands.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, sorry!” he said and
moved from side to side, sweeping my hair free. “Better?”

I nodded and Johnny closed
the small gap between us. His lips were soft as they sought out mine and he slowly
increased the pressure until I was almost breathless. As our bodies pressed
together, indescribable warmth and a million other delicious sensations
replaced any fear or hesitation. I became aware of a muffled moaning coming
from the bedroom across the hall and giggled. Johnny silenced me with a deep
kiss.

“Are you ready?” he asked
when our lips separated.

“Yes,” I answered in a
whisper; my throat had suddenly become dry and my pulse sounded like a stampede
of horses running through my veins.

He moved his hand down
between my legs and I opened up for him. He tentatively stroked, his fingers
brushing against the sensitive bud, causing my hips to buck. Hovering above, Johnny
smiled down at me before he slowly guided himself in. I gasped at the pinch and
the tightness that followed was uncomfortable.

“Breathe,” he reminded me
and stopped from penetrating any further. He started kissing my neck and I
became lost in the experience of being completely surrounded by him. I knew
Johnny would never hurt me. I moaned when his teeth grazed my earlobe and
sensing the moment I began to relax, he pushed all the way in. My eyes opened
wide at the fullness, but any pain had faded. I was just starting to enjoy
things when Johnny’s grunting increased and his body started to convulse. He
pulled out just in time to ejaculate all over my stomach before flopping over
onto his back.
That’s it?
I thought to myself. Girls whispered in the
bathroom and hallways at school about doing it and how amazing it felt. I was a
little sore, sticky and needed a shower. That didn’t fit my definition of amazing.

We lay there next to each
other in the dark. Johnny reached over and took my hand in his, establishing a
small bridge between us. Our breathing returned to normal, my pulse slowed and
I eventually dozed off.

A rustling sound woke me
up. I was on my side, Johnny had curled up behind me and I stared at a pile of dried
leaves which had collected along the wall. A mouse waded through the leaves. I
was naked on a dirty mattress, in an abandoned farmhouse infested with rodents.
As the reality of my situation sunk in, I sat up. In the dim early morning
light I found my clothes and put them on, my movements waking Johnny.

“What’s happening?” He
rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“I need to hit the road.
Care to walk me to the bus station?”

Johnny sat up and watched
as I ran my fingers through my hair. “You’re serious aren’t you? You left
home.”

“Yep. Want to come with
me?” I half joked. 

“I could you know,” he
said and lit a smoke.

“No, Johnny. I won’t be
responsible for screwing up your life too. I have no idea what I’m doing.” I
sat down on the mattress and reached for his cigarette, which he handed to me.

“Seriously, hear me out.
I turn eighteen next month, graduate a month after that and I’m not going to
college. I’ll be drafted the second they hand me my diploma.” He took a drag
and exhaled before handing it back to me, “If I go over there, I’m dead.”

I pictured his casket
being lowered into the ground, his parents leaning on each other for support.
This scene had already played out in our town’s cemetery one too many times.  I
placed my hand on his knee and rested my head on his shoulder.

“You’re not a soldier.”

That statement hung over
us in the quiet room. Johnny was a musician. A great guitarist and he even
wrote his own music. He wasn’t any more military material than I was. Johnny
turned his head and stared out the window.

“I can’t let you travel
alone either, Georgia. A lot can happen to a pretty chick like you.” He snuffed
his cigarette out on the warped hardwood floor. “I’m going with you.”

“Really?” I launched
myself at Johnny, knocking him backwards onto the bed. Venturing out into the
world didn’t seem so intimidating with a companion to do it with me. We kissed
and held onto each other.

“You’ll be a draft
dodger.”

“Yeah and you’ll be
excommunicated from the church.”

“Don’t hurt yourself
using big words like that.” I laughed as he pretend tackled me.

The room was getting
brighter and Johnny needed to get back to his house before his parents woke up.
He preferred to leave without a scene. Brett and Ruth were already gone. We
left through the same broken window we had used to gain entrance and walked
down the overgrown driveway. Johnny’s dirt bike was on its side in some bushes
at the end. I hopped on behind him and he sped back to town. Traffic was light
and we made it to his house in time. I stayed outside while he climbed in
through his bedroom window to pack a bag and grabbed his guitar.

We walked the two miles
to the bus station. Sometimes Johnny held my hand, other times we were lost in
our own thoughts. I half expected the entire Taylorsville police department and
the high school principal to be waiting for us when we turned the corner to the
station. My dad would be there too with the Elders from our church and I’d be
hauled off, never to be seen again.

Nothing like that
happened. No one was there for us and only a handful of people were waiting for
the next bus. We bought tickets for the earliest departure headed for Las
Vegas.

Johnny listened as I
chattered on about how exciting this was and that Las Vegas was going to be our
land of opportunity. I could already feel the restraints of living in a small
town and under my parent’s strict guidance loosening.  The moment the bus left
Taylorsville and with each passing mile marker, I began to really breathe.

Chapter Nineteen

The next few weeks were
awful. Johnny and I fought constantly; we ran out of money and were hungry all
the time. Las Vegas was not a land of opportunity, but a city full of shattered
and desperate people. We included ourselves in that population. At 3 a.m., in a
run-down diner on the low end of the strip, Johnny and I parted ways.

He sipped on a Coke and
smoked the last cigarette in our pack. “I’m going back home.”

I wasn’t surprised and
had seen it coming. We were kids trying to act like adults in a fucked up
world. Our plan was destined to fail, but the acceptance of the failure and
Johnny’s rejection still stung. I nodded and lowered my eyes, focusing on my
hands which were wrapped around a mug of coffee.

“When will you leave?”

“My bus leaves in a little
over an hour. I called my mom and she paid for a ticket.”

“What about the draft?” I
asked, glancing up at him.

“If that’s my fate, so be
it.” He looked past me, not able to make eye contact. The bulb in the light
above our table was on its way out and it flickered, casting shadows on his
face. “Why don’t you come back with me?”

“I can’t go back. I’ll
figure things out.”

He nodded, put a dollar
on the table, finished his soda and stood up. I got up too and stood awkwardly
in front of him. “So this is it, huh?” I asked.

Johnny finally made eye
contact and I took a mental picture of his face and forlorn expression. Even
his eyes seemed to be a stormy blue. It was like he already knew he’d be
heading to war, but he was choosing that instead of staying.

“Come here, babe.” He
pulled me into his arms and I held onto him tight knowing this would probably
be the last time we saw each other. Johnny kissed my cheek before we separated.
“Well, I’ll see ya,” he said and was gone. I watched him through the grease
smeared window as he climbed into a waiting cab.

Never had I been so
tired. I must have aged ten years in the past three weeks. I stared at my
reflection in the window to see if I had in fact grown older, but my face was
the same.

The waitress came by and
topped off my coffee. We chose this diner because refills were free. I wondered
if they’d let me stay the rest of the night or if at some point the service
would stop. I really wanted to curl up in the booth and sleep. I opened my
wallet and counted the cash. Twenty-two bucks, enough for a couple nights in a
cheap motel. Emily’s donation would help after all. I needed to get a job, but
being a minor proved to be a challenge. A minor with no identification and no
parental approval made it even more challenging. But, this was Vegas and if there
was ever an employer who was willing to cut corners, I’d bet that employer was
in this city. I just had to find him…or her.

“Excuse me?” I flagged
the waitress down as she walked past.

“Yeah, hon? Ya need more
coffee?”

“No. I need a job. Are
you hiring?”

“
I’m not
,” she said
with a wink, “but the boss might be. He’ll be in around nine. His name’s Hank.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Bolstered by this glimmer
of hope I placed a tip on the table, more than I could really afford, and left
to go find a motel.

After sleeping for a few
hours, I showered, put on the least wrinkled sundress I owned and went to see Hank.
He looked me over a few times too many before telling me he wasn’t hiring, but
his brother, a manager at the Mustang Club, always needed new people. I had to
be there by four in the afternoon, which gave me more time to sleep. At least
sleeping made me forget about my empty stomach.

The Mustang Club was
several miles away so I took a cab. With each dollar I spent, my desperation
grew tenfold. By the time I stood in front of the most ornate and golden doors
I had ever seen, if Hank’s brother wanted me to kill people for money, I would
do it. I raised my arm and knocked on the locked doors. A very large and hairy
man opened one side and glared down at me.

“We’re closed.”

“I know, but Hank Flaherty
told me to come down here and talk to Gary?”

The man moved aside and
allowed me to enter. After being out in the glaring sun, it took a few seconds
for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and once they adjusted, I took in my
new surroundings. The drapes and seats were upholstered in red plush velvet
lined with gold fringe. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceilings. To the left, a
dark wood bar wound its way in an “S” curve the length of the room. Bar stools
in the same red velvet lined the bar, which ended right before a stage. The
stage boasted a brass pole, directly in the center. My eyes widened with
recognition. Three weeks in Vegas had been enough to teach me about strip
clubs.

“Gary!” The guy yelled to
a man sitting at the bar eating a hamburger. “This chick’s here to see ya –
says Hank sent her.”

It was too late for me to
run and where did I have to run to? My stomach growled when I caught a whiff of
the grilled meat.

“Send her down,” Gary
yelled back.

I clutched my handbag
close and walked toward Gary. He watched as I approached and part of me wanted
to hunch over and act invisible, while the survivalist in me ordered me to
stand tall and walk proud. I listened to the survivalist, threw my shoulders
back, stuck out my chest and exaggerated the sway of my hips.

Gary stood up when I
reached him. He wasn’t very tall and wore a gray suit. With his long, bushy
sideburn and pencil-thin moustache, I got the impression he was trying to
impersonate a Beatle only he didn’t pull it off. He had a big gap between his
front teeth and I couldn’t help but stare at it when he smiled at me.

“I’m Gary and you are?”

“Georgia Jessup.”

“Please have a seat,
Georgia. Mmmm I like your name…lots of possibilities.” He stroked his moustache
and gave my breasts a once over. “Are you from there?”

“No, Salt Lake.”

“My brother sent you…ya
need a job?”

I nodded and stared at
his teeth. A bad overbite drew even more attention to the imperfection.

“You ever dance before…professionally?”

I cleared my throat,
“No.”

“You are eighteen?”

“Yes,” I lied, “nineteen,
actually.”

Gary asked me to go up on
the stage, which I did. He then asked me to show him some moves. I walked to
the pole, willing myself forward and grabbed onto the metal. It was cold, hard
and unforgiving. It appeared so shiny from a distance, but up close the brass
was smudged with greasy fingerprints. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and
moved my body slowly as I exhaled. I pictured myself at the Senior Prom with
Johnny’s arms wrapped around me. My hips moved to the beat in my head and I
stopped holding back.

Using my long blonde hair
as a prop, it twirled with me and I imagined myself in a cocoon of spun gold.
I’d emerge a butterfly and would no longer be Georgia Jessup, family disgrace
at age seventeen.