Lacey

Lacey


A single cigarette emerged from the small opening in the driver’s window, tiny ambers burst from the glowing cherry, ashes disintegrating as they fell into the swift autumn breeze. Miss Fair's guitar played as she described in few but powerful words, the trials of a one night stand. Lacey drug her jagged, chewed finger nails over the knee of her jeans and then began tapping them methodically on her steering wheel, thinking that if only she'd learned to play guitar, she'd have written this song.
She watched him, her bruised green eyes hidden behind scratched sun glasses. He was talking to this girl, touching this stranger’s face the way he used to touch hers. What she once felt was precious and genuine now seemed the simple mechanics of a liar. His actions made him seem as smooth as the words that rolled off his forked tongue. At a distance, in another perspective, he wasn't much more than an average guy. Had she not known him before now, sitting here in her car, she couldn't see herself paying him much attention.
She ran her hand between her seat and the console, feeling for the cool metal piece. Her fingers wrapped around it and she pulled it out and laid it in her lap, digging her thumbnail into the grove on the safety she gave it a flick. In a few minutes, he'd tell the new girl bye and get into his truck taking the back roads home. There were more than a few old habits he'd found hard to break and this is what she counted on as she tailed him out of the parking lot and onto the highway.
He stopped for cigarettes at Dan's and she drove on, dropping onto the shoulder a mile ahead and waiting for him. He passed her and she picked up her pursuit, following him onto the road to his house. His mother would be waiting up for him, and Lacey hoped that his mother remembered the fear she felt when she thought of James coming home, because she'd never feel it again. James pulled over in his usual spot and she parked her barrowed car out of site and took her time through the trees to the other side of the curve.
He was doing the last line off his dash when she came into view. His head fell back onto the seat and he closed his eyes tight, clinching the steering wheel. She walked softly, the way she had so often in the nights after he moved in, he slept lightly and woke violently. At arms length from the cab of his truck she stopped and her heart did too. Those nights of James waking violently had lead to surreal moments of partial consciousness that made her feel as though sometimes, when she was awake, she was still dreaming.
He was loosening his grip on the wheel and she was tightening down on the trigger. She extended her arm, the barrel aligned with his temple and she waited. All the time she'd spent dreaming of this moment, she'd changed her plan too many times, the one thing that never changed was that the last thing she wanted him to see was her face.
Several minutes passed and her arm was growing tired, but she had rather turn the gun on herself that let it down now. His hands slid down the steering wheel and feel at his sides, hitting the seat, creating small clouds of dust and residue. His mouth slowly fell open and his head turned to her.
Her jaws clinched, her muscles ached from holding her arms out for so long. It had been fifteen minutes now. His eyes opened. Slowly at first and then in a series of chaotic blinks, his head steady, still he faced her. His nostrils flared, her eyes squinted slightly. She let go of the gun with one hand and took off the sunglasses. His lips quivered and his nostrils flared again, and slowly they became darker and then the darkness crept out and to corner of his mouth where it met with the darkness that slowly escaped his lips.
Her heart has more that doubled in its pace and she watches as the last breath escapes him, sending a delicate spray of blood onto the backs of her trembling hands. She softly speaks his name and with all that's left in him, his eyes find hers. His gaze is deep and empty and so familiar to her that she isn't aware of what happening until the gun fires.
It felt so much like those moments of partial consciousness. Everything was so hazy and she felt consumed by something she couldn't see. The distinct taste of blood on her lips and the feel of hard ground beneath her, she did what was natural to her in these moments. She scrambled to her feet and started to run.
Insider her car she sat quietly and tried to light a cigarette. The damp tobacco wouldn't burn and her wet hands made it hard to hold on to her lighter, her hair in her face made it difficult to see. She searched between the seat and the console for another cigarette. There was something missing.
She looked up and over her steering wheel and through the trees and saw his truck. A few feet from the car, the gun was lying in the road. Her stomach churned as she reached for the door handle. She moved slowly once outside the car. She got closer and she could see more of those delicate drops on the gun. She reached for the piece and stopped when she saw it, roughly the size of a nail head, a cluster of brown hair and flesh on the barrel. Lacey turned away and dropped to her knees.
She boldly attended his funeral and lingered near the casket for only a moment. His mother had approached her and smiled at her. Not saying anything, she hugged Lacey and slipped a silk rose into her hand. Lacey returned to her car and as she smoked, she fingered the petals on the fake flower. Inside the fold of the rose were two words in black sharpie marker.
I know.
She laid the flower on the dash and left the funeral home before the procession had a chance to align. She waited on the plot until well after everyone was gone. His headstone was already in place. Lacey walked softly near him for the last time. She took the flower his mother had given her and placed in the soft soil. She drew from her cigarette and as she exhaled she stuck the butt of the cigarette into the center of the flower.
Momentarily the cigarette burned down, the heat from the fire made the peddles wilt inward to their center. As the small flame began to extinguished, so did the fire inside her.