Home > Fast Lane(60)

Fast Lane(60)
Author: Kristen Ashley

How I knew that, I cannot explain, outside the fact that I just knew Preacher, inside and out.

But also, when that kind of thing happens, peace is a forever impossibility.

 

He had told me he wanted this, way back when.

He’d told me that night.

It was one of the things he told me in that dark room in that motel in Indiana the first time we met after he’d pulled his feet out of Amber’s dad’s pool and walked to me and asked if I was okay.

When I told him I was, and he said, all gentle, with that crazy-cool Cajun accent, “Now, cher, don’t lie to me.”

 

And then Jen’s all in to drive us to his motel to have some alone time because she wanted him, but she was glad he wanted me and since no one had ever had me, and he was an excellent candidate for that first, she was all in to help.

Though, at the time, I had no clue he wanted me.

I had no clue why I even went.

Except this was Preacher.

 

And I told him how my dad was always on my case about my weight, and how we’d just come back from a visitation with him and the whole time he’d been up in my face about it.

And I don’t know what it was, how it just flooded out, why it just flooded out for Preacher.

Telling him about how shitty that made me feel and how I looked in the mirror and saw one thing, but my dad saw another, and I didn’t know which to believe.

 

Preacher would make sure I knew which one to believe.

Which one was real.

He’d do it that night.

And he’d keep doing it for as long as we were together.

 

Then he started talking about his mom and dad and brother and we were lying on separate beds, talking to the dark ceiling, but he started talking about that and I didn’t think he was into me.

I thought I’d misjudged him and the guys. Rock studs out for one thing.

But I was wrong, and he was just a nice guy who noticed I was in a bad way and did something about it.

I mean, of course, I thought he was beautiful. Because he was.

I also thought he was totally out of my league and I figured the person who knew that the most was Preacher.

 

He didn’t touch me. He didn’t try anything.

He listened.

And now he was sharing.

God, sharing such…

[Closes eyes, opens them]

[Whispers] God.

 

So, I got out of the bed I was lying on and went and sat on the side of his and took up his hand and held it real tight.

And the minute I did, he whispers, all soft, “Fuck, never in my wildest imaginings, growin’ up, knowin’ I was nothin’, I’d amount to nothin’, that one day a beautiful, sweet girl like you would be holding my hand.”

 

A beautiful sweet girl.

[Pets her animals instinctively while her eyes wander to the window]

[Whispers] Preacher McCade calling me beautiful.

Yeah.

[Looks back]

He let me know which one to believe.

 

I didn’t realize until much later, when I’d had more time with him, when I knew him better, how hesitant he was when he was relating that story to me.

I was so into that dark room, that night, him and what was happening between us, I didn’t even notice it then.

How he changed from when he started telling his story to after I came over and took up his hand.

I can’t know for certain what precisely was going on in his mind. Whether he thought it would disgust me or scare me or I’d think less of him or I’d think he was like his parents.

[Shakes head]

I don’t know.

I never asked.

 

I just know it was a grave and brave risk for Preacher McCade to tell me what he told me.

And when I took it on.

I, [touches chest] me, this beautiful, sweet girl listens and doesn’t judge, doesn’t run away, she comes to hold his hand and then stretches out beside him and whispers from dark until dawn, tangled up in him, all our deepest secrets, all our hopes and dreams, all our fears and realities, all we can fit in, until she falls asleep.

That was it for him.

For him.

And for me.

 

He told me his plans then.

He told me he had to make it so someone would listen to him.

He told me he had to find justice for his brother.

He had to know he was at rest.

He told me they had to pay.

Pay for it all.

What they did to Baptiste. How they treated the Williamses.

They had to go down.

 

The sad part is, we got stuck into life and each other and I forgot about this.

Not completely, but for the most part…

[Swallows]

Yeah.

 

I drove to Florida and I walked up to that beach and I did both thinking we would have this out.

And we’d end it back together.

Because we were us.

There was no way but to end whatever in life, doing it together.

He said some ugly things that were very wrong.

But I got it.

Boy, did I.

But he didn’t share with me and I’d asked, I’d begged.

And we could not ever allow that to happen again.

Last, I’d apologized for striking him, but I needed to repeat that apology and assure him that I’d never done that before, and I never would do it again.

 

But when I walked up that beach and saw him with his jeans rolled up his calves and his tee tight on his pecs but billowing in the wind around his stomach and his hair longer and blowing around his head, his manner self-contained, I knew the conversation was not going to be that.

And I was right.

 

He didn’t look like he was hungry for the sight of me.

He didn’t look like he was missing me.

Both of these I was feeling in abundance.

He also didn’t give anything away.

He just said, “Thanks for comin’, Lyla.”

I wasn’t giving up, not that easy.

Not again.

So, I asked, “You wanna walk awhile?”

[Draws a labored breath into other nose, takes a moment]

“No,” he said. “I meant, it says a lot about you that you showed at those trials. It’s not surprising, but it says a lot about you, and you should know it meant something to me. So, thanks for comin’ to them, Lyla.”

“You already said that in your note,” I reminded him.

“I’m glad I got the chance to do it face to face,” he replied.

“We have more to talk about, Preacher,” I said.

He nodded and said, “Yeah. And I’m glad I get to do that face to face too. Because I loved it, Lyla. Every minute of it. You gotta know, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Of course, I thought this was hopeful and I was about to touch him before he kept talking.

 

And he did it to say, “But I’m movin’ on, cher. It’s time. And I hope you do too. To good things. To happy. Thank you for the beauty you gave me. I won’t ever forget it.”

 

And then, he left me standing there in the sand, right above where the waves rolled up the beach.

And he walked away from me.

Then he disappeared.

For everybody.

 

 

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