Anyway, before we left our house, I grabbed a couple of pictures of the boys, despite what Thomas had said. Then we went outside, where the smoke was so powerful and dense it looked like a tornado was about to touch down. I had a decent vodka buzz going, and everything had taken on this heightened sense of reality, like that photo app on my phone when I switch the filter to Vibrant.
Then, before we could even climb into the car, the shit hit the fan.
The shit in this case being Frank, the jerk who lives across the street. Frank smiled when he saw us, that mean way he smiles when he’s making fun of someone’s shoddy lawn care or talking shit about the single guy who lives next door. Frank thinks everyone but him is bringing down the neighborhood, even though he mows his lawn at 6:30 in the morning and idles his Harley in the driveway when he’s not planning to ride it anywhere.
First, he asked where we were going, and when no one answered, he asked if he could “borrow” a jug of gasoline for his motorcycle. Then he recognized Skylar. You could almost see a switch flip in his mind, like he just hit all grapes on the slot machine. She smiled back in this empty way, like she’s so jaded about being the most beautiful woman in the world (I mean she is pretty hot). You could tell Frank felt dismissed, because next he asked what she was doing in Podunk, Oklahoma and even offered his “services” to her… as if there were anything a famous actress could possibly need from him.
I could see Thomas was about to intervene, which meant he would have to stop fueling the car, and that’s when Seth politely suggested Frank go find something else to do. Frank’s response was to pull a gun out of his pants and point it at my husband.
Not ashamed to admit it: I shrieked like a little girl. Brandon yelled and Ben started crying and my heart raced until I thought it would burst. Frank wanted the car so he could take his family to some cabin in the woods. That’s where they planned, as he called it, “to ride out the storm.” They needed a car to get there and couldn’t believe when the Mustang appeared in front of their house like a gift from God.
All this happened fast, because the next thing I knew, Thomas was standing behind Frank, pointing a gun at the back of his head. Frank never even saw him coming. It was like a movie.
Then Thomas made Frank lie down on the ground while Seth poured in the rest of the gasoline. Even after we got in the car, Thomas wouldn’t let him up. He wouldn’t give Frank his gun back, either. And Frank begged. Just take out the bullets, he said, but leave me the gun. It’s the only one I have, he said. But Thomas refused, which was pretty cold if you ask me, because how will Frank defend his family or hunt for
May 16, 202- (later)
Sorry, I heard Seth coming earlier. For now, I want to keep this private so I can work through my feelings. In a way, I think this journal could be a record of what happened, like for posterity, for my family and maybe even the world at large. But if I thought someone would look at it now, I doubt I would be very honest.
So, let me finish the story of the trip. As we drove out of the neighborhood, the sky was so dark it looked like the sun had gone down. There wasn’t enough room to put up the convertible top, so we made the boys put their heads down and breathe through their shirts. I felt terrible for them. It’s hard to get through your head that a city is on fire, instead of just a building, and that nothing can be done about it. No sirens, no fire trucks, no Army help, no nothing. And I kept thinking, if we ever came through here again, our house and all its memories would probably be gone. ☹
(I guess emojis are over, too. Handwritten ones are just not the same.)
Thomas was worried about some folks who saw him earlier, so instead of the typical route to Dallas, we stayed on the turnpike all the way to Hugo. The stalled cars became less numerous, and Thomas drove faster, and eventually everyone relaxed. I played I-Spy with the boys, and Skylar told them about her show on Nickelodeon. I didn’t even realize she was on that, but the boys did. They perked up and asked her all sorts of questions about Jeffrey, who I always found effeminate and way too friendly to children. That’s something I won’t miss: creepy children’s TV shows.
By then, it could almost have been any old road trip (albeit in a crowded car), when I heard this strange whistle right behind me. Then a chunk of road flew up, and I heard the crack of what we realized was a gunshot. Seth pushed the kids into the floorboard and threw his body on top of mine while Thomas sped up and weaved the car back and forth. I honestly thought we were going to die. Or lose the car and maybe be raped. Seth said the gunshot came from very far away, and that the people shooting were cowards or kids or both. We never saw them, and no one else fired at us. But I didn’t let down my guard again until we got here.
Thomas drove even faster after that. We kept the boys down as much as we could, but they complained a lot, and by the time we reached Texas it was dark, anyway. We began to see more stalled cars, and every five minutes some family appeared in the headlights, waving like crazy, as if we could do anything for them. There was no more room for anyone. That didn’t stop people from approaching us, though, and a couple of times Thomas was ready to pull his gun again. But he didn’t.
I should also mention that Seth brought his own gun, and a pocketful of bullets, which he kept hidden. He said our family could use insurance of its own, like if Thomas didn’t follow through on his promise to help us. It seems like all Seth thinks about anymore is insurance.
Eventually, we left the highway and crossed a bridge, and not long after we turned into a neighborhood dense with trees. Again I felt like we were living in a movie, that scene where the audience cringes while a naive family drives into a nightmare. But instead of monsters, Thomas was worried one of his neighbors would see us or hear us. He was especially concerned about Larry, this scientist guy who worked at the particle accelerator near Wichita Falls before it was destroyed.
Speaking of my hometown, I should explain about Thomas and the high school reunion. I know it sounds awful, but by that point I was so upset about Seth’s infidelity (or what I thought was infidelity) that I hoped someone would flirt with me. The mixer was held in the back room of an Applebee’s, and there were maybe forty or fifty of us total. I couldn’t believe how hot Michele Cobb looked. Like way better than high school. She must have had Botox and maybe a boob job, I don’t know. The only reason I noticed Thomas was because she was talking to him, if that tells you anything. But then he glanced over Michele’s head and looked straight at me, like we’d known each other for years, and nodded in the direction of the bar. I was a bit tipsy and overwhelmed that a man I didn’t recognize would be so forward. But then Thomas joined me at the bar, where he said:
So, Nat, did you ever figure out how to spell dependant?
(I still don’t know if I have it right or not.)
It seemed impossible to believe this classy, handsome man had gone to our school, but anyone who knew I couldn’t spell dependant (dependent??) had obviously been a friend. And I couldn’t remember him!
Anyway, I giggled, and said I still wasn’t sure how to spell it.
You were such a good English student, he told me. Your papers were so well-written. And then it would appear, like a pimple in the middle of the page. Dependent with an A!
Ah, shit. Now I remember. I’ll go back and fix it later.
You know, he said. I was hoping you would come. And here we are, having a drink together.
So where do you live now? I asked. California? Because you seem like you’re far from home.
I live in Dallas, he said, but I was in L.A. a few weeks ago.