Ubertines 07: Babe, I've Got You Bad (819 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: twin_human_highway_flares
Rating: 1.88 on 31 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Stagger Lee (View user info) at 2007-02-19 11:01:39 EST
It's about eleven in the evening, and she's been gone for four minutes. She vanished inside with a wink and a smile. Wind comes over the hills, biting and cold; I wind up the window, sealing myself away from the chill.
There are four trucks parked in the bays, drivers hunched low, grabbing a quick nap before barrelling on down the freeway. Cars pass infrequently, their headlights bathing the black road with illumination; all too briefly before they're gone. The scrub on either side of the freeway stretches out as far as I can see in the yellow, depressing glow from the service station.
"You wait in the car," she'd said, as I signalled to pull into the station.
"No, not this time," I said, as firmly as I dared, weak before her like I always was.
"Yeah, you're the getaway driver. I can't drive. Besides, you can't deal with it if they yell or beg."
It's true, but fuck her for saying it.
"We've been through this," she adds, smug enough that I want to hit her, endearing enough that I want to kiss her condescending mouth.
I wonder what I'm doing. Well, naturally, I know what I'm doing. It's more of a why thing. Here I am, at some barely lit fuckhole in the wall on a deserted freeway, waiting for a girl to rob the service station and bring me hastily pocketed, crumpled cash. Waiting for her to bring me her smiles and assurances.
Surely, they'll catch us sooner or later. We're running on fumes; whistling past the graveyard as we burn up the miles. On the outside, we are carefree, charismatic bad seeds living to our own rules. On the inside, we're a couple of scared kids in over our heads.
She won't admit it; she's far too confident. At least, her self-image is so bound up in her projection of confidence that she can't afford to concede anything, ever.
They're closing in, inevitable, inexorable. Fuck it; I can feel them, just over my shoulder, hiding behind the horizon, concealed in every sunset. Two of us, bound together by puppy love and misplaced loyalty. Yeah, I guess I love her. Like a goddamn dog loves its owner.
Six minutes, and I can't see into the station properly. I saw her when she entered, her ponytail bouncing on her shoulders, baseball cap pulled low. She's wearing big wraparound sunglasses, too, all the better to not remember you, dear.
It arrives, the thought that always arrives, sneaking into my mind, insidious, persuasive. Why not just leave? Let her continue down her road on her own. She wants to destroy herself; let her. Why take me down too? Just bail. It's as easy as starting the car and driving away.
She's been far too long. There's no way it should take this long. I open the glovebox; finger the grip of the snub-nosed revolver. Perhaps I should check on her. But if she's fine, she'll be pissed that I left my post. Arguments while speeding down the dark roads, guns and cash in the glovebox, rage on her face and contrition on mine; even less fun than you'd think.
I peer around, looking for the slightest glimpse of her, or the attendant. All I can see is racks of crisps and fridges full of soft drink; all I want is a glimpse of her baseball cap and ponytail. Fresh out.
Alright, so if I left? What would she do? Would she be genuinely sad? I'm not sure. She'd probably be more disappointed in her loss of hold over me; than the actual loss of me. This doesn't help my state of mind.
I remember the first time she did this. How she looked so terrified before we went into the liquor store. How scared I was of her once I saw her, shoving her gun in the clerk's face, screaming, her eyes wild. How she'd looked in the car afterwards, face flushed, euphoric, still clutching her gun. I wanted to take it away from her, but I didn't quite dare.
The day after our first robbery, her father died. Unexpectedly, in his sleep. She got the call on her mobile phone while we were heading east through the back roads, dodging the police cars that never materialised. I didn't care that he was dead, but I cared about the clouds that gathered on her face, the tears she cried. She told her mother that we were fishing off the coast and couldn't make it back. This was before any of it made the papers, and her mother found out why we really couldn't come home. Found out the hard way.
Thirteen minutes. A car passes, lighting the rear view mirror for a moment. I haven't heard any shots, and I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad one.
I remember when I showed up at her house, wearing borrowed cologne and a cheap suit. How she ran to the door so her father wouldn't get there first. Her deliberately casual goodbye to her family, tossed over her shoulder. She was wearing her mother's perfume, sitting nervously in my passenger street. My gentle teasing that she couldn't drive.
I fish a twenty-cent piece from my pocket and consider it, turning it over in my fingers under the lights from the service station.
Heads she loves me, tails I leave.
But can I even be trusted to honour such a simple contract? When I can't decide, there she is, to guide me. To lead me. But she's eating me from the inside out, wearing me down one condescending kiss at a time.
Heads, I wait five more minutes and go look for her.
Tails, I leave her in the dark.
I flip the coin.
User Reviews
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-02-14 04:19:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You're everywhere. You're omnivorous.
-- Homer Simpson, to God
There's No Disgrace Like Home
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-02-14 03:58:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You probably didn't appreciate a comment like that from me since I suck so much but I make a much better reader than I do a writer.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-02-12 21:02:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
If this is the standard, I am fucked.
However, one thing bugs me - the use of 'wind' and 'wind' in one sentence, although they have a different meaning they look too samey and sit uncomftably together. Perhaps 'rolled' up the wind, or something, might have fitted better, but hey! what do I know, I am just a simpleton. :)
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-21 19:59:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-02-21 12:18:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-20 21:11:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Why, thank you.
Yeah that's something I've been messing with.
Submitted by MyTeeOne (user info) at 2007-02-20 16:49:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
On your good days, you could easily be the best writer on here.
I've noticed that your males are often enchanted with your females lately, to the point of becoming bad guys.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-02-19 21:35:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-19 19:46:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yup
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-19 19:44:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-02-19 13:35:24 (#)
Ranking: 2
Patrice Evra has revealed that Cristiano Ronaldo is known by his Manchester United team-mates as Playboy because he has his own mirror in the dressing room. (The Sun)
-------------
Cos he's dead sexy.
Submitted by Unabonger (user info) at 2007-02-19 19:21:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
1.5
Submitted by Unabonger (user info) at 2007-02-19 19:21:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by yhywstudios (user info) at 2007-02-19 18:13:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by sweetcheebs (user info) at 2007-02-19 17:53:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I definitely can't pick between these two, damn you and your skill.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-19 16:02:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fuck. I didn't read it. Will do so later. I know it's good. Jesus.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2007-02-19 15:57:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i refuse to make a choice
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2007-02-19 15:26:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-02-19 15:19:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2007-02-19 15:07:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I really like this, short, good, readable with a good ending.
Jolly good fellow, jolly good.
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2007-02-19 14:45:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-02-19 13:35:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Patrice Evra has revealed that Cristiano Ronaldo is known by his Manchester United team-mates as Playboy because he has his own mirror in the dressing room. (The Sun)
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2007-02-19 12:25:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You know I like this.
-Dave
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-02-19 12:23:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2007-02-19 12:08:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2007-02-19 12:05:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice cliffhanger ending. This reminded me of Steve Miller's "Take the Money and Run"
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-02-19 11:17:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-19 11:08:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/u/Stagger_Lee/l/twin_human_highway_flares
Related stuff here. Only one other so far.
Submitted by TechnoRatty (user info) at 2007-02-19 11:06:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
oh yes....More!!
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-19 11:04:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
YOUR MOTHER
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-19 11:04:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/m/98774
Contest link.
Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2007-02-19 11:04:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
well...