No Longer in Pineville

The train ride to the next town was lonely. Staring out the window, her thoughts raced over the unknown road ahead.

“Ma’am, ticket please.”

Smiling she withdrew her ticket from her purse. “How much longer before we get into town?”

“We should be there in about two hours ma’am.”

After the train pulled into the station, Jacqueline stood up, exited the doors, and found her luggage.

“1431 Willow Rd.,” she told the cab drive.

Within thirty minutes they were there. “That’ll be $45.00”

Jacqueline looked around the neighborhood. It was a far cry from the sprawling acreage inside the gated community back home in Pineville. The small brick and vinyl sided homes, with their small yards, made her uneasy.

Jacqueline handed him three twenty-dollar bills, as she picked up her bags and headed toward the pink vinyl house; “Great, no screen on the door.”

After much careful negotiating, Jacqueline was able to rest her largest piece of luggage on the stoop. “Okay, let’s see how this place looks inside.” With some heavy pushing the front door creaked open revealing oak floors and dust. With a slow, deep sigh, Jacqueline put her luggage inside the house, and turned on the light. “I’ve got to get that screen door fixed,” she said out loud.

“Yea, that screen door is in terrible shape.”

With one quick swoop of her head, Jacqueline’s entire personality changed. Standing there in her home was Bill Matthews.

“What the hell? How’d you get in my house, and how the fuck did you know where I was?”

Laughing, Matthews asked, “What’s the matter Jackie? Did Mark not tell you I have been on his payroll for the past year? He’s had a private investigator trailing you since the first time you came into my bank wanting a loan. Needless to say, your loan was never officially approved.”

Pointing her long finger at Matthews, “Look jack-off, you better back-up your sorry existence of a man and get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops.”

“You know Mark won’t let you leave him. I suggest you go back to him,” smiling he began stroking her left arm with the back of his stubby fingers, “unless you want to spend time with me first.”

Jacqueline shoved him out the door, breaking the cheap metal casing of the screen door and causing him to fall backwards onto the cemented walkway.

“You bitch. Mark will find you wherever you go.

Oh, one more thing Jackie, your car is waiting for you at your home in Pineville, in the garage. It’s no longer in the rented storage building; in fact, the entire storage facility is gone. There was an explosion of some kind; I believe it was a gas line. It was pure luck that you weren’t there when it happened. Especially since it happened shortly after the cab pulled away to take you to the train station. Here’s my card with my phone numbers on it, when you change your mind.”

“Fuck off,” was the last thing Jacqueline said to him, as she slammed her front door shut.

Once alone, Jacqueline fought with the voice in her head as she screamed out loud, “God damnit! How could he do this to me? What the hell. I’ve supported him in everything that he’s done; it was my freakin’ money that he used to start his first hole-in-the-wall strip joint. Where was his damn freakin’ money ties then? I’ll tell you where, still in daddy’s pocket.” Jacqueline threw her shoulder satchel across the room and sat down on the hard floor.

Memories of her teenage years at home began flooding back, like a dam had burst; the nights when her father would come into her room late at night while her mother slept, thanks to the two B’s – booze and barbiturates. No one ever suspected a thing, when her father gave her expensive jewelry as gifts, even though those closest to the family new him as the “King of the Sleaze Bars.” That one night when she finally cracked, everyone thought he had just fallen down the stairs, onto the marble landing. An autopsy was never performed, the needle and syringe were never found – she thought she was free at last.

A few minutes later, she recovered her make-up bag and pulling out a small plastic bottle containing her “quiet” pills, she popped two in her mouth. Jacqueline could still hear the murmurs resounding in her head as she closed her eyes, pulled her knees close to her chest, and started rocking back and forth, silently, as she waited for time to pass. Now she knew that the trophy wife part of her life was gone, she was in the real world now, the world of survival – and she would do whatever it would take to survive on her own.