 |
MEDLESS-MINDLESS
THE ROADTRIP FROM HELL
The Month of July
Somehow, I have managed to survive and live until July. Two weeks into the month of July, CC, after losing her job and being home with me all day everyday had slowly started to spiral further out of control and she was taking me with her, because according to her, “I will never let you leave me. I will never let you betray me.” These were the fateful words I was met with at knife point, after she decided to take me hostage.
There would be more to her losing her job than what met the eye. It wasn’t that she just lost her income and a way for her to shop and lie about paying her bills but a very serious matter of mental health was attached to this dilemma. What I still did not know about Dear CC, was that she was very mentally unstable and in order to be somewhat normal, she relied on a very large amount of medications. Not just any medications, anti-psychotics. Despite her constant ailments, hypochondria-antics of pains here, there and yonder, she really did take anti-psychotics and mood stabilizers. The scary part was, I genuinely had no idea. It would be a very, very rude awakening when reality slapped me in the face.
If you’ve read the other two books, you know what happened when she took me hostage. If you haven’t read them then you’re a bit behind and I’ll catch you up.
*********************************************************************
CHAPTER 6 MEDLESS-MINDLESS & THE ROADTRIP FROM HELL
Now that you’re all caught up, it had become more and more apparent to me that waiting this out because our house wasn’t quite ready yet, could be one of the worst and costly decisions I had made yet. However, I just did not want to move out and then have to put stuff in storage or move in with another friend and I could not sign a lease on another place because mine was just under a month away from being finished. If I left my stuff there and traveled with Eric, it’d be fine. This is the mindset that I had.
It would be week three of July, just one week after she had taken me hostage that my husband picked up a new student who, within hours of being picked up, got behind the wheel of the truck and proceeded to pop the clutch revved too highly and he twisted the shaft, thus, damaging the truck and making it immobile. They were stranded in Missouri. My husband, furious, called me and said “I need you here. I need you now.” Well, always aiming to please and never missing an opportunity to see him when I could, I agreed that I’d take a trip up there for the duration of his stay and then go with him after his truck was fixed. CC, naturally, not missing a trick, heard this conversation and decided that she should get to come too. Here is where I am torn. The last thing that I wanted was another outburst, outbreak and hostage situation where someone would surely die because I was at wits end with her and no jury in the world would have convicted me for self defense against a clinically insane person, which would later have been exhibit A after medical records were subpoenaed but on the other hand, I didn‘t want to spend more time with her than I had to. I wanted to get the hell away from her and this was my chance at a prolonged freedom until my house was ready. She followed me around the apartment begging over and over again to let her go. She had never been out of Texas, I got to go and do so much, let her go. My plan had been to call Heather to take me to the airport and to just fly to Missouri, avoiding the nearly ten hour drive. She followed me to the shower where she yanked back the curtain and I screamed, my feet slid out from beneath me and I became an expert bathtub surfer in seconds. Note- fingertips, unless amphibian typed, do not stick to slippery, wet walls. She grabbed my arms and steadied me while giggling. How nice. I’ve just had a coronary and my everything is dripping wet, exposed and the blast of cold air is delightfully FREEZING!
“CC what the hell are you doing? I mean really.” I demanded, once I caught my breath.
“I just thought we could talk about this.” She told me innocently. The expression on her face told me she thought she was doing nothing wrong here. Me pulling away and attempting to get the quickly sliding shampoo out of my eyes and the frustrated sighs that went with it, should have said back off bitch or else.
“CC, this is really not the time. I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have a plane to catch.” I tried to explain this rationally. She didn’t seem to comprehend it. Instead she snapped the shower curtain shut. I heard the door closed and for a second I was relieved. I went through my routine in the shower, and as the conditioner sat in my hair, I began to shave my legs. This is when the curtain opened again and she was holding my iPhone and to my regaling delight, she was videoing me. My mouth fell open, mid-shave on my right shin, I am frozen leaning half way out of the shower, suds everywhere, shaving cream dripping off of me like hot whipped cream. How I kept from slashing my leg from the surprise, I’ll never know.
“CC! What the fuck!” I shouted. This time, I was furious and horrified and very, very concerned.
“I thought Eric might like it.” She nodded her head. I arched an eyebrow. I know I did. I could feel my scalp rise against the heavy conditioner on my wet head.
“You what?” I asked her confused.
“I know he misses you and is lonely. I’m helping and you look so damned sexy naked.” She added. My hand was on my face. I forgot about the razor and the shaving cream. Melon scent floated into my nostrils and I became aware that half my face now looked like that of a mans shaving commercial. I clutched the razor as I searched for the right words.
“Why’d you stop modeling?” She continued to stare at me.
“You go through my phone?” I avoided her question and asked her confused.
“I saw them on the computer too.” She informed me as she continued to record. I could jump up and down and scream and yell but then I’d gash my head open as I crashed to the bottom of the tub and the mixture of white shaving cream and maroon sticky goo would be a delightful mess and instead of going on a trip out of town I’d be on a trip due to a slow Morphine drip in the hospital. I took the ladder.
“Okay, well though I appreciate your thoughtfulness in wanting to help me, I’m just not good with this view. My left side is better.” I half jokingly, half seriously (okay more seriously than not) told her.
“I think he’ll like it.” She told me as she saved the video to my phone.
“Okay, I’ll look at it and send it to him before I go.” I assured her. My mind was racing. What a freaking whack-job. I closed the curtain.
“CC, set that on the sink for me would ya please?” I called through the curtain. It opened again and there she was. Again. Still holding my phone, I could hear the wonderful, unmistakable sound of pictures being taken. Yelling at her once again and her sheer look of innocence and the
“I’m just trying to help!” Shout I got from her was spiking my blood pressure. I heard the bathroom door slam shut. I grabbed my head which was spinning now, to keep it from rolling off my shoulders. It gives whole new meaning to “losing your head.”
After my shower, I dried off and my hair, straightened it, put on my makeup and then slipped across the hall in my towel to change clothes. I got two steps into my room when CC excitedly informed me-
“my bags are packed!” She clapped with glee. I stared at her puzzled.
“Where are you going?” I asked curiously.
“With you silly. You didn’t think I’d let my best friend go alone, did you?” She plopped on the edge of my bed and stared at me. I bit my lip and willed my patience to kick in. Please don’t lose your patience Shaunna, please. Breathe girl, just breathe. I told myself silently as I stared at her.
“I’m flying.” I informed her.
“I haven’t flown before! I’m so excited! I had hoped to fly for your wedding but then I didn’t get to make it to that or my cousins graduation!” She practically shouted at me as she continued to bounce on the edge of the bed.
“CC, I’m getting my ticket at the airport. Eric paid for it. He only got one.” I tried to explain this to her. It was useless.
“But I don’t want to fly the dogs. We’d have to kennel them and then they’d be in the back of the hot plane in storage and what if they lose them?” She had become distraught. Flashbacks of my hostage situation slapped me sober. I am convinced I was suffering from PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) from that. I tapped my cheek thoughtfully as I tightened the grip of my towel, praying it wouldn’t slip off but not that it really mattered since I was on video and she was the one doing the recording.
“You make such a good point. I have a great idea.” I told her. Her cheeks flushed with excitement as she waited. She reminded me of a kid in a candy store going hog wild at all the goodies around them.
“Okay!” She shouted.
“You stay here with the dogs so they don’t have to be kenneled and they won’t be lost and I’ll go.” This made sense to me. Why this was not making sense to her…. Is another story.
“I don’t like that idea.” She informed me childishly.
“And why not?’ I was vaguely aware of the terry cloth towel, moist against my skin.
“Because I don’t get to go.” She told me. I bit back the smile and fought the “precisely!” That threatened to escape.
“Hmm.” Was all I offered. She continued to wait.
“I’m going to get dressed now, why don’t you take the dogs out.” I suggested.
“We can go together.” She told me.
“I told you I’m flying.”
“To take the dogs outside.” She told me.
“I have to get dressed. I’m not taking them out in a towel.” I informed her, my patience wearing thinner by the second.
“No one would mind. You have a beautiful body.” She stared at me.
“I would mind. Thanks though.” She slid off the bed and walked out the door closing it behind her. I changed into the clothes I had laid out on my bed, slipping the belt around my waist and checking to see if I liked the way it looked with the shirt and jeans I was wearing. I was just putting on my shoes when CC burst through the door scaring me half to death. I yelled and the dogs went nuts barking.
“Now what!” I shouted exasperated.
“That guy!” She giggled and clapped. I truly had no idea what in the hell she was talking about but she was certainly excited about it.
Belt in hand, I stared at her and waited for her continued explanation.
“Okay, what guy?” I asked curiously as I fastened the belt around my waist.
“I met him the other night! He has a pit bull just like us!” She shouted with glee. The pit bull like us needs clarification. My husband had been wanting a Pit for his truck. She just happened to find one that needed a home. She and I went and picked it up one evening when Eric and I were home. He took the dog for about a month and as it turns out, puppies are not great on trucks. She wanted to chew on absolutely everything. She had been abused and was a rescue and she had a serious attitude problem when it came to being fussed at and forget trying to spank her. So, Eric brought her back and headed back out again. I was trying to find her a new, good home to go to and CC insisted on us keeping her. For one, the apartments that we lived in didn’t allow pets, especially not big ones like Boxers and Pits and half the buildings had been evicted because they all had those two types of dogs. Our two little dogs were kind of invisible and they never said anything about them.
“I was walking the dog and there he was!” She continued. I waited for the rest of the story to unfold.
“Uh huh.” I acknowledged as I continued packing and walking back and forth across the hallway with my bathroom stuff.
“So we started talking and he is the most beautiful dark chocolate with dread locks!” She exclaimed. I stared at her blankly. I just didn’t understand her obsession but I let it go. To each their own but I just wasn’t partial to the whole dread lock look.
“I told him we were leaving!” She went on. I sighed, okay more like groaned in disbelief. She just wasn’t comprehending this.
“Oh! And my mom called and said thank you for taking such good care of her baby and she’s so excited I get to finally leave Texas!” She continued to screech. My phone had been ringing off the hook. I answered Eric’s call.
“Hi Honey!” I greeted him.
“Hello my love, where are you?” He asked curiously.
“Well, I’m actually finishing up my packing and am on my way out the door.” I left off a minor detail.
“How’d CC take the news?” He chuckled.
“Well, she took it as an invite and packed her bags.” I informed him as I walked into the living room and collected my lap top. He was silent.
“I see.” He grumbled.
“I’m sorry. I’ve tried everything except tying her to a chair and duct taping her then leaving a note for the neighbors to release her after I am long gone.” I told him. He laughed.
“I don’t know if this hotel accepts pets.” He tried again. Apparently, she was standing directly behind me and somehow heard him.
“I’ve already pulled up all the hotels in Missouri and the one that he texted you where he was staying accepts pets.” She informed me. I jumped and screamed.
“What text?” I asked confused.
“She checked your messages again I see.” Eric volunteered.
“Terrific. This will be delightful.” I shook my head and promised to call him once WE were out the door and on OUR way. To be sure that she was going to get to go, she already had her bags in the car and was hauling mine out there just as fast as she could go. It amazed me how she never had ailments when she was desperate to go somewhere or do something.
One hour later the dogs were packed, the bags were packed, the kitchen snacks and drinks were packed and we were on our way. I had packed my bags. She packed everything else and stuffed it into her car which she insisted that we take, which was fine with me since I had no intentions of going back with her.
Despite packing all of these snacks and junk, she was absolutely starving by the time we had drive thirty two minutes into Granbury where she had to have Schlotzkis! She had to or she’d just die! The problem with this was, both Eric and I were funding this trip and she wasn’t putting a penny in towards it for anything and I had already gotten her a drink before we left Stephenville. I told her fine but she was not going to order the biggest sandwich that they had and an extra bag of chips and spend $20 like she always did.
After feeding the beast, it was a fairly smooth drive right up to the point of us getting into Dallas. You can always count on good ole’ Dallas to have drama in it somewhere. It’s about eight o’clock at night when we were driving through there and suddenly, there were flashing lights all around us, in every color. The police department had cars pulled off to the side and were setting out spike strips. Horrified, we both watched as law enforcement moved on both sides of the four way road with a divide. Suddenly, a car spun around from the road we were on and was then going the opposite direction, all cars in hot pursuit of them. Naturally, Eric picked this time to call, while CC is a screaming maniac, gripping the wheel as if she’s the one being chased. I felt like I was in the video game Need For Speed. She put the accelerator all the way down and we shot forward like a bullet. All I could see was a blur of lights mixing with the darkness outside of my window. I tightened my seatbelt and listened to the whimper of the dogs coming from the backseat. While driving at high speeds and me telling her to slow down, she picked this moment to open the bag of Dum Dum lollipops and then give it to the Pit Bull. I was horrified. I half turned in my seat and was attempting to pull on the stick to get it back out of her mouth. Instead of watching the road that nincompoop was watching me fight with the dog. The Pit opened her mouth to fix her grip and I pulled it back out. CC grabbed it out of my slimy, wet hand and stuffed it in her mouth. I swallowed the vomit back down as I watched her sucking on the dogs sucker. I covered my mouth and watched her bite pieces of Cream Soda off and feed it to the already high strung dog. I had never wanted to kill her more. That’s a lie, I had but I really wanted to just shake the life out of her right then, with my slimy, dog drooled hand but I was afraid she might start licking them and further gross me out.
Once out of Dallas, our journey was fairly smooth until we got into another state. This is where she tried killing us the first time on this trip. We needed fuel. I directed her to a Shell station that also doubled as a truck stop. I was familiar with these as I’ve spent the last two years traveling with my husband. I showed her the car entrance she was suppose to go into but instead she chose to whip into the furthest entrance which would be the trucks entrance. Naturally, there were oncoming trucks with horns blaring as she drove like a wild maniac swerving in and out of the oncoming trucks and then she drove us right into their fuel island, blazed through the opening, spun around and faced them like we were about to have a standoff and I knew which one was going to be the victor in all of this. As I was grabbing the door handle to bale out because I wanted no part in the crushing that was about to commence, she slammed on the gas and shot us back through one of the open fuel islands. Screaming bloody murder I dug my fingers into the side of the door as I was pushed against the seat of the car. I drew my legs up in a defense move and thought better of it in the event the airbag deployed. I dropped them back to the floorboard.
“Your brakes don’t work.” She informed me with a laugh and hiss as she spun us out of the parking lot. We needed fuel. We were at a quarter of a tank and I wasn’t familiar with this area. I didn’t know when we would see another gas station. Despite my fuel apps on my iPhone, I was out of service range and it wouldn’t connect. Fantastic. She drove us down the backroads and through a gate that said something about military. She was going so fast though it made it hard to read what the signs said. Before I knew it, we were completely surrounded by the dark. There was no moon and no stars overhead and we were now barreling down some hillbilly backroad that reminded me of something out of The Chainsaw Massacres and Deliverance. I could just see us losing control and flying into a tree and being approached by some lonely mountain men/hillbillies with the famed quote “you sure got a purdy mouth” from the 1972 movie Deliverance. I glanced at CC with a panicked stare.
“I don’t know where we are.” She gasped as she hovered further over the steering wheel. I want to thank God and Google for creating Latitude for the iPhone. My husband called demanding to know where the hell she had taken us and why the hell we were on “Bob’s Road!” My reply?
“Paddle faster, I think I hear banjos playing.” Despite the tense moment, I got laughter from both CC and Eric. Unfortunately, I was not laughing. I was serious. I recounted the scary movies I had watched like The Hills Have Eyes 1&2, Rest Stop, Joy Ride and The Chainsaw Massacres were just a start. I was digging my nails into the side of the seat cushion and praying for anything. Some sort of life that was not dressed in overalls carrying pitchforks, shotguns and flaming sticks for light. I’d die before I succumbed to that kind of insanity. I was already in my own personal hell, that would have been the icing on the cake.
|
Chapter Six
No comments:
Post a Comment