“The only thing life promises is death; start lookin’ at yourself as a dead man and you’re already one step ahead of the pack.”
– Jake’s Dirty Napkin
“You all right, chickarita?” Geroge asked casually, as he leaned back in the passenger seat of Cris’s convertible. “Been a long day. Lots of excitement.”
Cris sighed, watching the sunset in the northern Mexican desert. She couldn’t stop from biting her lip as the contemplative soliloquy of Aimee Mann’s “How Am I Different” played through the car’s speakers.
“I just thought…I don’t know.”
“That the Alm’ster would be the one MIA instead of your not so Don Quixote?”
She scoffed, turning to him. “I’m still a little mad at you, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah. We can hash it out after we find our missing boy wonder.”
She forced a halfhearted smile. Geroge shared a similar expression, unruly hair sprawled out over his head on its march down the sides of his face. Looking back to the dashboard, Cris tried to ignore the town’s overwhelming stench of burnt decay as she played with her hands on the steering wheel.
“Ugh!” escaped Cris’s lips. “I’ve been worried about him for months, months! Crying my eyes out in between being depressed and dysfunctionally optimistic. I had no idea whether he was alive or where he was at, yet he’s been down here the whole damn time living it up. Making secret phone calls to you, hanging out with Alma, and not saying a word to me…this is bullshit!”
She slammed her fist on the steering wheel, inadvertently hitting the car horn and scaring herself back into her seat. She dropped her head into her hand, frizzy mahogany split ends falling into view. She brushed them aside, looking over her sand-covered clothes and trying to ignore the sticky sweat gliding along every crevice of her body. Geroge cocked his head back as he spoke up.
“It’s definitely not a happily ever after. So what? Like most of us, Kod’s an idiot sometimes. But can you tell me the genius part of your plan? Ya’ know, the masterpiece that ended up with you sleeping with your best friend’s guy?”
Cris exhaled, refusing to make eye contact with Geroge. He continued.
“Not judging. Painting you a picture. Breaking hearts leads to broken hearts. Maybe your life’s messed up right now, but so are a lot of people’s. What else would you expect when you do that much messin’ around? We all got shit to make up for, lady friend, it’s just a matter of suckin’ it up until the debt is paid and we can make a half-assed effort to keep it that way.”
“You know, for a pep talk, that kind of sucked.”
“Wasn’t s’posed to make ya’ feel better, sugarplum. Just get your head outta those pretty clouds you’re so fond of. This is life, not your own personal dustland fairytale.”
Cris changed the song and lifted her head, observing a tumbleweed drift by in the distance. Looking past that, she stared into the explosive tapestry of stars illuminating the early evening just beyond the mountain ridge. She reclined her seat, getting a better view of the night sky.
“So you agree with Jake. You think I’m a harlot.”
“Harlot ain’t the word he used, mon lady frère. And like I said—not here to judge. You know how Jeany and I live, so believe I’m not big on getting into your ass about the choices you make. Just that you understand the consequences don’t disappear when you get tired of ‘em. Gotta deal with them until you get back to bein’ golden.”
“Like I don’t know that.”
Cris sat up, climbing out of the car to put the roof up. Geroge got out to help her, and they both secured it as they climbed back in.
“I think you’re learnin’.”
“Good for me, I guess. Achievement unlocked.”
“Heh,” Geroge chuckled. “Guess all that prodding you to check out Steam finally paid off. But as for the issue at hand. The whimsical Alm’ster…”
Cris glared at him, to no effect.
“Don’t have an answer for ya’. Those two were cookies ‘n cream before you tore that Oreo apart. But you love him and he loves you, and Spike loves Buffy loves Angel loves Cordelia, so who knows? I think there was some guy love in that little chain too… lost my point.”
“Yeah, I see that. Thanks G. Very helpful. Goodnight.”
Cris rolled over, doing her best to get comfortable in the reclined driver’s seat. She shifted up and down, trying to find some sort of compromise for a good resting spot. Fidgeting tirelessly, she clasped her fingers around her necklace as she retired her eyelids and waited for morning.