Dead Inside. A Short Story. Part 3.

To read the previous installment, please click here.

Chapter 3

Tired of repeating himself, after Lily was unresponsive to his last question, Trent bites his lip, raises his voice and says, “I think he’s right. Dr. Cruzan said this getaway is going to be good for us, provided you can leave your work, along with your cell phone, in the car when we get there.”

The radio quietly plays some unidentifiable 1950’s country relic in the background as their Land Rover quickly exits the highway. Would it kill you to stop what you’re doing and actually listen to me for seconds? Almost oblivious to Trent’s existence in the car, Lily presses a few more keys on her Blackberry and drops it in her purse.

“Just stop. I hate how you think that my work doesn’t matter.”

“I never said that.”

“You do it all the time.”

“I just mean that you might actually get something out of this if you--”

Before Trent can finish, Lily interrupts him, “I know what you meant. Maybe it’s easy for someone who works at a third-rate bank, giving loans to grandmothers who want to sell their peanut brittle, but not me.”

A cold sweat slowly creeps down Trent’s back at Lily’s words. “Nice,” is all he can muster as his mouth fills with cotton. His eyes suddenly fill with blinding sunlight, causing Trent to veer off the road briefly before regaining control. Hardly noticing their brief off-roading excursion, Lily rolls back over on her side, trying to sleep away what’s left of this dreadful journey.

A small part of him wishes he had lost control of the Land Rover, knowing that Lily hardly ever wore her seat-belt. Maybe if “the tank”—-a nickname that he gave to Lily’s luxury SUV immediately after driving it off of the dealership’s lot-—had flipped, he wouldn’t have to worry about trying so hard this weekend on making their relationship better. Trent never used to think about things like this, but one can only take so much verbal abuse and abandonment before the thoughts start to creep into his head.

----

Thirty minutes pass by before Trent tries to spark possibly another disastrous conversation. He rubs his eyes, stretches while steering the car with his knee, and then yawns dramatically, hoping to catch Lily’s interest, praying that what he says next won’t fall on deaf ears.
“You know, I’m up for a promotion next month.”

Lily’s chest slowly rises and falls, but her gentle purr isn’t present, making Trent believe that she isn’t asleep, but rather ignoring anything that leaves his mouth. He tries not to let it bother him as he continues. “Mr. Robinson said I was a shoe-in as bank manager for the new branch opening up next month up in Freedom.”

Pushing out her last breath in palpable frustration, as if she had just opened a cryogenic freezer, Lily cranks her seat upright. It’s obvious to Trent that she’s more than just a little pissed, but at this point in the trip, he doesn’t mind.

“What, so you can work another ten hours on top of the fifty you’re already putting in at the bank? I don’t think so.”

Her remarks are like fingernails on a chalkboard. Grinding his teeth, Trent swallows hard and wonders if he should switch from using the shovel he’s been using this entire journey or just go right ahead and use the back hoe.

“I’m just trying to support our family, Lil.” Yep, the back hoe it is.

“Well, you better pray it’s for a VP spot, because that’s the only way you’re going to make enough money to support us.” Lily’s words are quick and decisive. There she goes again, using that tongue of hers like a scalpel, trying her best to remove his heart. How could she come back at him so quickly and so coldly, as if what he said meant nothing at all to her?

More words, possibly better words, sit at the tip of his tongue, but all that he can force out is, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you want me to quit my job, play house wife and get knocked up, then you’re going to need to earn a hell of a lot more than what you’re pulling down now, because your salary won’t even cover half of our mortgage on the condo.”

Another quick-fire answer and she didn’t even have to pause to reload first. Trent wished he could be as quick on his toes as Lily, but he knew it wasn’t his game. He felt that if Lily hadn’t stayed to run her father’s foundation, she would have made a brilliant trial lawyer. Winning an argument with her meant pulling an all-nighter doing research at the library. Needless-to-say, Trent became accustomed to losing.

“So… we’ll move.” Ping! Another shot from Trent’s BB gun fires, but fails to pierce Lily’s armor.

“Not on your life. There’s no way I’m giving up something that means the world to me.”

Biting his lip, Trent’s eyes start to water, but he successfully holds back the tears. He wondered which part of her life meant more to Lily: their condo or her lifestyle. Unfortunately either one wasn’t him and just like that, he was starting to lose faith that this excursion would repair any part of the irrevocable disaster that was their marriage.

Chapter 4

With the fuel gauge teetering closely towards the E, Trent pulls their Land Rover into the next gas station he sees. A cool breeze helps push his door open as Trent get out of the vehicle. He stretches, twisting at his waist and pulling his arms back; his shoulders popping, sounding like they might dislocate, if only it didn’t feel so good.

At first glance, the gas station looks as if it had been recently transplanted from 1954. Upon further examination, Lily notices a thin film of dirt and grime covering every surface exposed to the elements and decides to stay planted in her seat. Breathing in the fresh air around him, Trent feels reinvigorated already. The sun shines warmly on his back, like a fresh shirt recently removed from the dryer; just enough so he doesn't feel the need to grab his jacket from the back seat. He leans down before shutting the door and asks, “You need anything?”

“I’m fine,” Lily’s response is still icy after their last conversation.

“What can I do ya for?”

Jumping back and slightly startled, Trent looks up and sees the gas station attendant, scratching his dandruff-laden head which is temporarily blocking out the sun. Filling his well-worn overalls is a physique that probably feasts on a steady diet of fried foods and light beer.

Completely covered in the attendant’s shadow, Trent say, “Uh… fill her up.”

“Sure thing.”

And with that, the attendant reaches over and places the nozzle in the tank. The pump starts to tick as he proceeds to wash the windshield. With every new breath of fresh air, Trent slowly meanders away from their car, forgetting about the last four grueling hours. By the time he reaches the end of the concrete lot, kicking a small rock across the road, Trent can hardly remember what he was arguing about with Lily in the first place.

As the gas attendant slowly squeegees the sudsy water that clings to the glass, the passenger side door opens forcefully. Lily exits the vehicle and asks, “Bathrooms?”

Unaffected by Lily’s curt rudeness, still focused on cleaning the windshield, he mumbles, “Inside. Towards the back by the fountain drinks.”

Trent turns around and sees Lily dashing towards the store. Hardly raising his voice, Trent says, “Lily? You okay?” His tone shows concern, but not much.

Lily covers her mouth with one hand while briskly swinging the door open with the other, disappearing inside.

Without even the slightest interruption in his work, the gas attendant moves on to the other windows and mumbles, “Bathroom.”

“Oh.” Trent heads back towards the vehicle as the handle clicks off. The attendant swiftly pops the nozzle back onto the pump and pauses for a moment as he tallies up the total.

“That’ll be forty-two seventy-five.”

Digging into his wallet, Trent pulls out a fifty. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, sir. Want me to check under the hood, top off your fluids?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The hood creaks as it’s quickly opened by the gas attendant, easily lifting it up over his head. Squeezing, pinching and pulling, his hands rapidly move about the vehicle’s entire motor cavity, almost as if he’s trying to play a tune on an instrument that only he knows. Looking back at the store front, Trent watches for Lily’s exit. No sign of her yet.

“So, you folks just passin’ through?”

“Huh?”

“Asked if you folks are just passin’ through?”

Pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, Trent turns and says, “Actually, were headed up here. I couldn't locate it on my GPS.”

“You’re all good here, mister.” The hood slams down in a hurry as the gas attendant grabs an oil-stained handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his brow. He takes the piece of paper from Trent's fingers and looks at it closely. He hands Trent back his slip of paper, blowing his nose into the rag and then briskly stuffing it into his pocket.

“Why you headed up there?”

A slight tone of concern is laced in his voice, causing Trent's hair to stand up on his neck. He nervously folds the piece of paper in his hands until resembling the size of a small piece of chewing gum, burying the paper, and his gut reaction, into his pocket. Extracting the car keys from the same pocket, he begins to caress them, wondering what might be keeping Lily.

“The wife and I are headed up there for a retreat.” The words hesitantly pour out of Trent's mouth, as if suddenly concerned to give this complete stranger as little information as possible about their trip.

“That's Dr. Cruzan's place.”

The gas attendant's acknowledgment of their final destination only bothers him even more. Backing up, Trent stammers, “Yeah... yeah... Dr. Cruzan. You know him?”

Uneasiness settles down deep in Trent's stomach as he slowly makes his way over to the driver's side door. Following closely is the gas attendant, who looks like he still has more to say.

“Cruzan's bad news, fella. I'd stay away from him if I was you.”

Fumbling with door handle, Trent asks, “Why do you say that?”

“Look, I don't have the time to go into all of the details. Cruzan isn't--,” He pauses, looking over his shoulder towards the store front. Standing outside, sucking down the remains of a Marlboro Red is his boss, the station owner. Suddenly the gas attendant squats down to the ground, pulling out his tire gauge. As he places it on the valve of the front passenger’s side tire, gesturing to Trent to come and get a closer look.

Trent resists at first, but decides that he's already gone this far, so why not continue this strange encounter with the Gomer Plye-like gas jockey. The best thing out of all of this might be a really good story to tell his friends back at the bank on Monday morning. The worse… well, he really didn’t want to think about that. The man continues to check the tire while resuming their conversation.

“Cruzan isn't-- well, he just isn't who you think he is.” Shuffling to the next tire, he goes on, “Look, another couple was here, maybe thirty minutes ago. Filled up and promptly asked where Dr. Cruzan's cabin was. These two were super gung ho. Couldn't talk them out of going there, even if they knew they were headed straight for the gates of hell.”

Trent can't resist and interjects, “Are they the headed straight for the gates of hell?”

“No,” he replies in a matter-of-fact voice, with just a touch of frustration. “You, on the other hand, look like you got a smart head on your shoulders. Why don't you take your pretty wife, turn your car around, and go home.”

As the gas attendant stands, he comes face-to-face with his boss. Clearing his throat, he clams up and proceeds to inspect the next tire on the other side.

“Is everything thing alright here, sir?” The owner's voice projects a wheezing nasally tone as he crushes the cigarette under his work boot. Standing up, Trent looks at the owner, trying not to gag on his horrible bad breath before saying, “Just fine, thanks.”

They stand there momentarily, staring at each other as the gas attendant finishes checking the last tire. The station owner breaks first as he looks away, abruptly turning back towards the store.

Standing back up, the attendant brushes off his knees and says, “Anyhow, that cabin ain't too far from here. Take a right, just over the hill. Two, maybe three miles tops. Can't miss it.”
Feeling slightly concerned, Trent asks the attendant, “Is everything alright?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look, they're all on to me, so I really can't say anymore.” Rubbing the back of his head, he starts to head back towards the garage as he crosses paths with Lily.

“Ready?” asks Lily as she opens the passenger door.

Slightly confused, wanting more information from this strange, yet awkward gas attendant, Trent opens his door but doesn't move. “Um... thanks for all your help.”

“No problem. Just be careful. Mountain lions have been known to kill people up there.”

“I'll be sure to do that.”

Uncertainty drowns out any reason that might be going to through Trent's head. He continues to stand there for another moment staring at the gas attendant, but he doesn't look back. With one fluid motion, Trent climbs inside and turns the engine over. The gas attendant slowly makes his way back into the garage, swallowed up by the shadows as Trent and Lily's Land Rover quickly ascends up a small hill, disappearing behind it shortly after.

Dead Inside. A Short Story. Part 2.

And now the unveiling of my second chapter.  Chapter one can be located here, if one wishes to start from the beginning.

Chapter 2

“So?”

The view outside wasn't spectacular by any means, not even interesting, but Lily was content with it as she drowned out a voice that sounded suspiciously like Charlie Brown’s parents. Mesmerized by the cars zipping in and out of the strip mall, Lily wonders why she wastes her time coming here every week when the end result is always the same.

“Lily?” This time Dr. Cruzan grabs her attention. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he writes briefly on a small note pad and then slaps it down the desk. She jumps slightly, “I'm sorry.”

“That's quite alright. I know the landscape out there is mesmerizing.”

Oblivious to his sarcasm, she straightens her posture, tugs on her skirt nervously and squirms in her seat. The uneasiness is hard to hide when you've been put on the spot knowing that you haven't been paying attention. Dr. Cruzan continues, “I was just asking how you two have been doing. Have you guys been doing the exercises that I recommended last week?”

“I've just been so slammed at work.”

Sitting next to Lily, Trent grunts in objection to her answer while chomping on his fingernails. His eyes dart back and forth between Lily and the doctor.

“That doesn't sound very encouraging.” Dr. Cruzan glances down at his tie and rubs his finger a small stain; or an ugly spot. It was hard to tell. He looks over at the clock on his desk, thankful that this is his last session for the day.

“That's because it isn't,” Trent interjects, pulling his hands out of his mouth and placing them on his lap.

“How so?” Dr. Cruzan scratches his balding head.

“Friends, family, and the foundation. They always take precedence over us.”

“So... distractions.”

“It's called life,” chimes in Lily. She's not going down without a fight on this one.

“I call it an excuse,” Trent antes up while adjusting himself on the couch to face Lily directly. A resurgence of confidence always bubbles to the surface when he knows that Dr. Cruzan backs his plays.

Irate to the point where she can't breathe, her blood begins to boil as she glares at him. How dare you confront me in front of someone else! Her mouth cracks open slightly about to retaliate when Dr. Cruzan interrupts, trying to pour some water over the slowly rising flames that have generated between his patients. “Well, I think I might have--” He pauses, trying to give proper description to the next word that comes out of his mouth, “--a solution.”

Grabbing the note pad that startled Lily only moments ago, he scribbles down a few lines and tears off the sheet. Standing up straight, Dr. Cruzan's back cracks like bubble wrap. He makes his way to Trent and hands him the small sheet of paper as Lily's phone vibrates.

Dr. Cruzan clears his throat and says, “I‘m holding a small marriage retreat and workshop this weekend. I do this every year, but right before your session, I had a couple cancel, so I do have an opening. I know it‘s very short notice.

“Now normally I wouldn‘t spring something like this on you two so suddenly, but I really think you would benefit. It‘s only a few hours’ drive north from here. It‘s out of the way and a perfect place to just disconnect from everything. No distractions except for the beauty of Mother Nature.”

Looking at the small piece of paper, Trent rubs his chin with intrigue. Dr. Cruzan attempts to finish off his sales pitch, “Fishing, hiking. It‘s a great little town to just get swallowed up into. Trust me, after this weekend, you won‘t be able to leave.”

There's a brief pause as Dr. Cruzan attempts to place the icing on the cake, “And since its short notice, I won‘t even charge you for the retreat.”

With his eyebrows raised, Trent has given away his tell. Now all he has to do is convince his wife. “Lily?”

“I don't know.” She can't even look up from her Blackberry. An uncomfortable quiet fills the office. She stops tapping on the tiny keyboard and looks up, realizing that she's now been placed at the center of attention once again. “I've got a ton of things going on right now. And I need to finish them this weekend.”

“You need to stop making excuses, Lily.” Dr. Cruzan sits down on the coffee table, now at her eye level. “If you want to make things work with you and Trent, then I would suggest going on this retreat. No friends. No family. No foundation. And no distractions.”

With a smile plastered a mile wide, Dr. Cruzan looks down at her Blackberry and then back up to Lily and says, “Oh, and no cell phones.”

Turning to Trent, a look of sheer desperation fills her face. Trent could care less. This is what he's been waiting for. Laying his cards all out on the table, he says, “I‘m game. It‘ll be good for us to get out of the city. Take in some fresh air, commune with nature.” Trent can hardly believe the corny words that he hears coming out of his mouth, but he knows they're true just the same. Grabbing her hand, he makes his final plea, “Lily, we need this. It would mean so much to me.”

“I don't know.” Her ears start to ring as her cheeks turn red. Her heart begins to pound quickly in her chest, as if trying to escape. I've got a bad feeling about this. The thought circles around inside Lily’s head, multiplying at lightning speed until they start to adhere to the inside of her skull, like freshly installed wallpaper. Something about this just doesn't feel right.

Making his way behind his desk, Dr. Cruzan sits down with superiority. He pulls out a pipe and packs it firmly with a small wad of tobacco. A small lighter flicks three times before producing a flame that lights his pipe. Puffing slowly and deliberately, Dr. Cruzan finally lets out a large trail of smoke and says, “I think he's right, Lily.”

Dead Inside. A Short Story. Part 1.

PREFACE

About six months ago I started writing a short story. The idea came from a failed screenplay that my writing partner and I had finally given up after three solid attempts to resurrect it from a failing third act.

At first I thought we might have struck gold. The idea was something just different enough that if we kept at it, we thought we might have the beginnings of an excellent independent feature film. Unfortunately, that was not the case. We needed to exercise the demons and start on something fresh.

When we had both come to the crossroads once again, I told James that I was pulling the trigger on this one. The script wasn't going anywhere and we kept getting stuck around page 60. The idea first came about when James had been fighting some personal demons; ones that had been haunting him for a long time that he used as inspiration for spinning this story.

So now you get to read my feeble attempt at short fiction. I'm not sure how long this short story will be, since I have yet to finish it myself. However, if I hold myself accountable by posting this story, a chapter at a time at regular intervals, I just might finish it.

I hope you enjoy it. Your comments are most welcome. If at any time this story suddenly disappears from my posts, it means that the idea has one again been resurrected into script form (probably inspiring James to pick it up again). Until then, I give you the first chapter of...

DEAD INSIDE

A short story by Nathan J. Eddy

Chapter 1

“So, what do you think?”

No response. Trent turns to look at his wife only to see her stare absently out the passenger’s side window. So beautiful, he thinks, not glamorously beautiful, but naturally beautiful. He never did understand why she tries to hide behind so much make-up. A trait that was more than likely passed down from her mother.

Trent clears his throat and tries again; this time a little louder. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” Lily responds, whipping her head towards him, but somehow avoiding eye contact. She looks down, distracted and detached.

“I was asking what you thought about this weekend.”

“Honestly Trent, I could care less.” Lily turns her head back to the window, re-engaging her blank stare, then closing her eyes.

Trent grips the steering wheel a little tighter now; his knuckles slowly turning white. Six words, six little words strung together as they were cutting with the precision of only the most skilled surgeon. Comments like that make him wonder why he ever got married in the first place. Exhaling slowly, and trying not to draw attention to himself, he fiddles with the radio, hoping to find a solid signal.

With her eyes still closed, Lily blurts out, “I can’t believe you didn’t bring anything to listen to knowing we were going to be on the road for four hours.”

“I didn’t forget my CDs on purpose Lily, if that’s what you’re implying. I don’t normally drive this car, remember?”

“Whatever.” Lily turns on her side, facing the passenger door. Maybe if she can fall asleep, this mind-numbing trip will end that much sooner. Trent smiles briefly at his small victory.

In that small moment of peace, if you want to call it that, their Land Rover speeds down the two-lane highway as the sun slowly rises over the horizon, filling the muddy blue-black sky with hints of orange and magenta. Pine trees and Douglas firs populate the mountains; the winding slab of asphalt marring the beauty of what very well could be a Bob Ross painting.

Running his hands through his short blond hair, Trent clicks off the radio in frustration. What's the point? The driver's side window slowly descends as he presses his finger firmly on the button when Lily barks, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But baby, I need some fresh air. If I have to drive without any music, I need at least a steady stream of cool air to keep me from dozing off at the wheel.”

“It’s not my fault you wanted to leave this early, so suck it up. It’s freezing outside and if you open that window, I’m never going to be able to fall back asleep.”

Feeling torn, wanting to catch a glimpse of Lily's long auburn hair blowing around her face, hear her laugh, remembering drives like these not so terribly long ago. The driver’s side door hums as Trent’s window moves back up into its original position. He squints several times and smacks himself in the face trying to wake up, then looks down at his watch: 6:43 AM. He rolls his eyes and focuses his attention back on the road.

A quiet buzz emanates near Lily’s feet. Casually reaching down to her purse, hoping Trent won't notice, she digs around and pulls out her Blackberry. Swiftly, Lily types a response with her nimble thumbs. In a short glance, Trent tries not to show that he’s upset, but his cheeks flush just slightly. Not wanting to acknowledge what he sees her doing, his hands find their way back to the dead air that is the car stereo.

Without taking her eyes off of her phone, “Stop wasting your time. You’re never going to find anything out here in B-F-E.”

“Do you have to be so damn negative all the time?” Toying with the knobs ever-so-gently, Trent hopes to find a signal that might make his wife eat her own words.

“I’m just trying to save you the eventual grief of your futile attempt for a radio station. That’s all.”

“Why don’t you stop worrying about my futile attempt and get back to what’s more than likely a work email that you can’t even leave alone for the weekend?”

Hoping to breathe some life into his valiant efforts, Trent flips the bands from FM to AM. White noise fills the car with no avail. All of a sudden a voice breaks through, loud and flamboyant; an evangelical preacher trying to save the souls of his listening audience. Finishing her message, Lily presses send on her Blackberry as she places in her lap.

“Do not leave it on this.” Her annoyance level already reaching Def-Con 1.

The preacher’s voice fades in and out and then away completely before Trent can respond, almost in obedience to Lily’s command. His search continues, pausing several times, but still with no success. After several near misses, the sounds of a mariachi band pops from the speakers. Trent chuckles at the music and announces, “I didn’t even know we had Mexicans living this far up north.”

Lily looks down at her phone waiting for it to vibrate again. After Trent’s comment, Lily starts to wonder why she ever tied the knot with this ass. She starts to think about Trent and what he used to be. What he used to represent and how much he’s changed since then. He had such aspirations; talked of greatness back when they met in college.

Sometimes it felt like yesterday, when they ran into each other at the library. She was doing research for her Poly-Sci paper while he was just wasting time while his roommate was making his moves on a girl that he'd been pining over for the past three months from his business accounting class. Flipping through the latest hardback Stephen King novel he had just checked out, with his nose buried in the third chapter, he didn't even notice her on the ground tying her shoe.

But even after four rejections, Trent asked her out once more as they crossed paths for the fifth time in less than a week. He felt it was more than just coincidence while Lily thought that she might as well just put this guy out of his misery. Just say yes, and then you can get back to your life once this date goes down flames on Friday night. Six months later they were engaged.

Lily was drawn to Trent in many ways, but mostly she was drawn to him because he wasn't her father. Trent was someone who wouldn’t jump down her throat when she came home late. He never asked questions because he trusted her. He didn’t judge her by her actions, but by her character. And as the years past, she began to realize how much she was just trying to get out from under her father’s grasp and how she used Trent as an escape; whose ambition went flying out the window when he took the first job offered to him for security right out of college. Now she’s running her father’s foundation and Trent has moved all the way up to the invisibility of middle management.

The mariachi music cuts out quickly as Trent hits the seek button once again. Static and interference once again pollute the Land Rover as he desperately tries to find anything better than his last two failed attempts. Almost reaching his breaking point, Trent hits the seek button once more when a warbling Hank Williams fills the airwaves with “Lovesick Blues.” His hand—at first hesitant, almost ready to keep searching—dangles in mid-air for a brief moment before settling back onto the steering wheel.

“You have got to be kidding me,” growls Lily in protest to The Drifting Cowboy. “There’s no way I’m going to listen to this country bumpkin crap!” Lily’s phone vibrates and she immediately picks it up. “I feel like we should be in a pick-up truck with a dog in the back.”

“Ah, come on. It’s not that bad,” defends Trent. He’s ecstatic that he’s found anything on the radio at the moment. “Besides, this station’s got both kinds. Country and Western.” Trent smirks, looking at Lily, but disappointed, realizes that the joke has gone over her head. He lets it go, turning his attention back to the road.

Lily begins to mash the keys on her Blackberry; an outward defiance to the torturous melodies emanating from the speakers. The last thing she wanted to do was to listen to country music for the remainder of the trip.

Before she can counter with another argument, Trent turns the radio down to a tolerable volume level in hopes of keeping the bickering to a minimum. Lily turns her attention back to her Blackberry, which has received another message.

His eyes cut over to Lily’s phone but he decides not to say anything else. The fact that she hasn’t piped up again in protest over the music was a triumph. Opening his mouth to comment on her working while they’re supposed to be disconnecting from their world for the next two days would just have to wait until they arrived at the cabin. Besides, he always felt better confronting Lily when Dr. Cruzan was present. Trent knew he didn’t have a backbone, but he also didn’t care right now. All he truly cared about was that this weekend could be the big breakthrough he's been wanting all along.