Zale sits in a booth held together by nothing more than a few pieces of tape, the strong packing tape though, not the cheap kind you could buy from the dollar store. He figures that has to be a good sign. It shouldn't be too hard for Azelia to find him in the small restaurant, she's even later than him. He smoked in the parking lot until his senses started to dull, he's hoping Azelia can finish the job.
He's becoming less and less worried about his initial reasons for coming here, he knows his book is going to be subpar anyways. The two women have taken over every aspect of his life. Ever since his nights with Jade, normal things seem dull to him, his overly carbonated soda doesn't even faze him. The only other thing that still seems exciting is Azelia. He doesn't believe in destiny, but maybe he should. His obsession is beginning to change subjects. A dirty redneck couple making out catches his attention from the corner of his eye, he hates such displays of affection. He wonders how Jade would act if she were here? Would she act out on her true feelings and eliminate the unsavory pair? Or do they have to be truly sick criminals for her to exact justice? He's starting to believe she has a wide criteria for killing.
Despite his inner anger at the couple, he'll just sit here like a statue and let them do whatever they want.
"Hey," Azelia says waving at him, breaking him from his disturbing thoughts. He pauses for a second before waving back.
"What am I going to do with you?" Zale asks.
"What do you mean?" she responds while sitting down, giving the taped booth the same look Zale gave it when he first saw it.
"Ten minutes late, I thought you were standing me up. You know I'm a stickler for punctuality."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're the one who gets mad if you get called before eleven a.m."
"That reminds me, have you been sleeping any better? You look tired," he says offering her his drink. She takes a long sip through the small straw, staring him down the whole time.
"Do I look that bad? Why do you keep asking?" she asks more harshly than she meant.
"Sorry, sorry, I thought you said you hadn't been sleeping well," he says and holds his hands up in defense.
"No, I'm sorry. It's just the stuff with Clint has me on edge still," she says and takes another long drink of the sugary concoction, mentioning his name brings a tremble to her hands.
"I thought he left?" he asks. The shiny menus hurt his eyes, the overbearing lighting doesn't help.
"Yeah, yeah..." she says, and stares into the distance. He waves his hand in front of her face.
"You okay?"
"What? Oh, yeah," she whispers. Her face pales noticeably, he's nervous she's going to get sick all over the table.
"You need some water?" he asks.
"Yeah, sorry I keep bringing him up."
"I've told you a million times, it really doesn't bother me."
"Thanks," she says and guzzles the rest of his drink, the color has yet to return to her face.
"No problem, you want pizza or...?" he asks.
"Um, yeah? I'll be back."
"Take your time and... and I don't care what happened with Clint, that's all in the past now. He's gone and that's all that matters," he says. She shoots him a quick smile and jumps up from the table then rushes to the bathroom. He's dying to ask her what happened with Clint, did he hurt her? Is that why she's so on edge? She's normally so relaxed. But given her situation with Clint it makes sense she can't accept his absence as truth quite yet.
The noise of the kissing couple next to them breaks through the short beautiful silence of his thoughts. A haunting realization dawns on him: Jade is rubbing her hatred off on him, a few months ago he would have shrugged off the couple, now he can focus on nothing else.
If he never saw Jade again could he ever come clean about his outings with her to Azelia? No, what is he thinking? He must be crazy to let such a thought cross his mind. Before he can get further into idiocy the waitress jaunts to the table.
"That girl you're with, she was here like few weeks ago with some other guy. They got into a huge fight, it was kinda embarrassing. The guy was a lot better looking than you too," she says as the smell of her cherry perfume insults his nose almost more than her words hurt his ego.
"Yeah he was a crazy stalker, I guess your pizza was so good she just had to come back," Zale says wanting to push her away but nervous if he does she will spit in his food.
"She left before she even ordered," she says. Her big eyes betray her pettiness.
"Well, what can you do? Could I get a large cheese pizza and a lemonade? Oh and a water," he says, the waitress doesn't think it's funny and walks away grumbling.
"I was just tryin' to warn ya," the waitress says on her exit. Why would she bring him to the same place she went with Clint? He doesn't care. He spots Azelia coming back.
"I'm glad you stalked me," he says with a smile before she sits. Her skin has regained its color. Something major must have went down with Clint to still be affecting her this badly.
"How dare you?" she feigns offense and returns his smile emptily. Something in her eyes has changed, they've lost a tinge of their glow.
"Where's the waitress?" she asks.
"You just missed her. You hungry?"
"Thirsty, it seems someone drank his soda," she jokes, he can almost see through her facade of calm, he decides not to press her though.
"You got me there," he says and slaps her hand lightly.
"This is what I needed, I need to relax," she says and reaches for his hand. They sit in silence gawking at the couple next to them.
"I'm glad we're not like that," she says, Zale nods his approval.
__________
He opens the door for her like he loves to do. Azelia jumps into her car, not giving Zale any time to look inside of it. She doesn't want him to see her weapon resting openly on her floor. She couldn't bring herself to dispose of it or take it with her, so it's sat unguarded and in plain sight since the incident. The guilt at seeing it almost makes her pass out, she fights the urge. How long can she keep the secret from Zale? Forever hopefully. She doesn't want to lose him and doesn't even want to think about the other possibilities. She did a good job of burying Clint so maybe no one will ever have to know. Just thinking of his body almost forces her to get sick again.
"You workin today?" Zale asks, unaware of her mood changes.
"Uh... no, actually I have tomorrow off too," she says after a moment's pause.
"Wanna go for a bike ride?"
"Where can we get bikes?" she asks stepping her left foot out of her car.
"I know a guy," he says, seeming to have forgiven all her strange behavior. The days have flown by so fast she isn't even sure how long it's been since Clint's death. She wonders if the memories of that night will ever fade. Before she can respond she hears his phone vibrate in his pocket again. After the first ring during lunch he had changed it to vibrate but she could hear it go off at least three more times during the meal. Only a person as crazy as Clint could call that many times in a short period, and Zale supposedly doesn't know anyone out here.
"I'm moving to another campsite today, but maybe later we can go bowling," she spouts. She has never met someone with such a strange love for the game as Zale.
"Now you're talking! You need help moving?" he asks.
"Nah I'm good. I'll call you later," she says and closes her door. Zale waves and starts to walk away while picking up his still vibrating phone. "Hello" is all she can hear through her door. She lied about moving sites, she did that weeks ago, she's going to find out what he's doing. The thought strikes her as odd, she has never been the type of person to do such a thing but she has a strange feeling about Zale's mystery caller.
__________
"Where have you been?!" Jade's voice pierces through the receiver, nearly blowing his ear drum. He involuntarily moves the phone away from his face. "I've been trying to reach you all day! What have you been doing that's so important?" she yells.
"Ju
st eating lunch, didn't hear my phone ring," he responds knowing it would be a grave mistake to tell her about Azelia. "What's so important?" he asks.
"I have to know I can trust you, that's the most important thing," she says. He shakes his head as he walks across the crowded street underneath the towering buildings gleaming in the blazing afternoon sun. How can she not trust him after what they've been through?
"You know you can," he says, still not wanting to disappoint her. After a short pause he adds, "I thought I proved that last time."
"You did, but I have to know I can always count on you," she says, this time with a small dose sugar of added. Just the thought of her wanting him blurs Azelia from his mind.
"Don't worry, you know you can always trust me," he says, finally making his way through the endless pedestrians to his beat up but lovely car. Her use of the word always makes him nervous, he hates commitment.
"Good, that's what I wanted to hear. Get over here as fast as you can, I have something big," she says and hangs up before he can respond. He slips into his car and just sits there in the heat without turning the the keys in the ignition. The feel of the heat sometimes forces his thoughts into something useful. The hot seat feels like he's sitting in his own personal oven set to broil. His mind is so crowded with confused and opposing thoughts of Jade he can't see straight. It seems any time he gets away from her he can see her for what she really is, a crazy insane woman who kills people.
He gives in to the heat and turns the keys, blasting the air conditioning. The best part about this old car is the air conditioning, it never seems to let him down and it never takes more than a few seconds to cool the whole cavernous thing. He wants to get to Jade soon, he can't do anything about the control she has over him just yet. As he tries to pull out of his small parking spot he realizes at that very moment just how much he hates the city, always congested, more buildings than trees, and home to the rudest people on earth. If he manages to leave this place alive he wants to move to somewhere truly desolate, maybe near Death Valley would be good. Finally, after about five minutes of waiting and plenty of horn honks, he pulls out and starts toward his destination.
__________
John twirls his fingers for the ten thousandth time in the past two hours. Clint was supposed to be here yesterday. John knows he's driving but it shouldn't take nearly this long. He was playing it cool in the beginning, not wanting to seem overbearing, so he didn't call at all; but in the past twelve hours he's called Clint about a thousand times, all to no avail. He knows something awful must have happened, Clint wouldn't do this to him on purpose. His massive girth rests in his giant recliner. He has cleaned the house a hundred times, and also paid a cleaning crew for good measure. His exuberance alone has given the house a feel of glory. He had been resigned to just sit here until his life slowly abandoned him, but ever since he had heard from Clint his life feels worth living.
He wonders again, only briefly, if the whole thing is some sick prank. He dismisses the idea in a second, he knows what his son's voice sounds like, and there is no way Clint would do that to him. He stands up and paces the same area of carpet he has paced hundreds of times in the past day, he can't stop moving or fidgeting. He picks up his cell phone and debates on whether to call again or not. Would the thousandth and one time make a difference?
He tentatively flips open his phone and redials Clint, he has called so many times today he doesn't think he could ever forget that precious number. He waits with bated breath, he's so nervous his eyes feel like they're about to explode from his head and land with a thump against the far wall. A drop of blood comes from his abused right ear as he digs the phone in even harder than he has the other thousand times.
"Hello?" comes a feminine voice from his son's phone.
"Clint?" he asks barely moving the phone from his ear.
"No... I'm Clementine. I found this phone on my walk yesterday under some dirt," the woman responds.
"Was anyone else around?"
"No just me and my dog. I saw it and figured I'd charge it up and see whose it is," she says, John falls back into his big chair.
"You did the right thing. It's my son's, he's supposed to be coming home today," he says, even mentioning Clint to a stranger gets him excited about his return.
"Oh, I'm sure he's all right. Do you want to come meet me and get it?" she asks.
"I don't think that'll work, I live in Pennsylvania. Could you do me a huge favor turn it into the police?"
"Yeah, no problem."
"Thank you ma'am. Can you do me one more giant favor?"
"Sure."
"Where'd you find it?" he inquires.
"At the Red Range camping site," she says and hangs up the call. John sits dumbfounded, the possibility of Clint being in trouble drives him into insanity and rage; he better figure this out quick. He stands back up and returns to his pacing, a fire burns in his eyes that hasn't been there since his boxing days. If something did happen to Clint he can't imagine the revenge he's going to exact on the perpetrator. He kneels down, clasps his hands and swears an oath of revenge to God. Whoever did it is going to pay, and pay not only with his life but his dignity and sanity as well.