The Nights Were Young Read online

  Marie choked back the lump. “I know, James, and that’s my fault. You liked me, and that’s what I always wanted, so I kept quiet… just like my mother always told me, keep quiet.” She laughed and pulled at her hair. “My hair isn’t even this blonde. You know I dyed it the same month I met you, and you told me how pretty it was. I haven’t let it go back since.”

  He put one hand on his mouth, one on his hip, and looked away from her. He stood there, still, staring at the wall.

  Marie trembled.

  “I don’t even know what to say to you, Marie,” he said, looking back at her. “I think you’ve drank too much. That’s it, you’ve just drank too much.”

  She sighed. “Yes, maybe that’s it.” She eyed the empty glass on the nightstand. “I’ve had a lot tonight.”

  James breathed heavily. “Why - why do you love me?”

  Marie was quiet.

  “I mean you do love me, right?” he asked. You’ve said that you do. I mean you said that when I asked you to marry me.”

  She looked into his eyes.

  “You’re the right man for me.”

  He stared at her for moments, and he seemed just as disappointed in her answer as she’d been with his. “Fine, then. Anything else to talk about?”

  Marie straightened up and cleared her throat. “No, no that’s all.”

  He took her arm and led her to the door. Marie wiped her eyes and fixed her hair while James opened the door.

  As they walked out, he said sternly, “Look happy.”

  X

  Marie looked out her bedroom window over the lake. The sun was lowering beyond the line of houses, and in her head she replayed what happened earlier that afternoon at the coffee shop.

  There was a knock at the door, and before Marie could answer her mother opened it and stayed in the doorway. “Hey sweetie.”

  “Hey Mom. What --?”

  “We need to talk.” Her mother entered and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “The applications are ready to mail out. I can send them off tomorrow,” Marie said, keeping her eyes to the window.

  “Good, good. That’s not what I want to talk to you about, though.”

  “Okay…”

  Marie turned to her, nervously. What did she know?

  Her mother took in a breath and exhaled quickly. “You know that I know Ms. Halliway right?”

  “My English teacher?”

  Her mother nodded.

  “I do now.”

  “Look. She called me today saying that you had been in some trouble at school. Something about a fight?”

  “Mom, that was nothing. It happened a week ago,” Marie groaned.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes Mom I’m fine.”

  “Okay, okay. Look, Marie, I know that this move was rough for you, moving during your last year and all, but it’s not good to start making the wrong kind of friends at the end of your high school career. Not when you’re so close to graduating.”

  Marie sighed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ms. Halliway informed me that you’ve been hanging around a - less than reputable crowd.”

  The way her mother spoke made Marie nauseous. Reputable? Really?

  “Who?” Marie asked.

  Her mother closed her eyes and breathed deep again, holding back some frustration.

  “A girl named Kate… and others like her.”

  “What do you mean ‘others like her’?” Marie asked. She scooted away from her mother.

  “Marie I’m not trying to tell you who you should be friends with.”

  “Good, because you have no say in that.”

  Her mother stood up quickly.

  “Yes I do, Marie. You’re my daughter and you’re still living under my roof.”

  “This is Dad’s roof,” Marie interrupted. Her blood was boiling and her fingers curled.

  Her mother’s mouth gaped open. She regained herself after a moment and ignored her daughter. “Ms. Halliway told me some of the information she’s heard about these kids. Some of them have even been arrested. Did you know that?”

  “That doesn’t make them terrible people, Mom. They’re still people.” Marie looked away from her and folded her arms. She crossed her legs away from her, trying to shut her out; maybe she’d get the hint and leave.

  Her mother closed her eyes and bit her tongue. “They are not the type of people you want to be surrounding yourself with.”

  Marie rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t even know them, Mom. You don’t even know them. God! You’re talking like a cop.”

  Her mother spoke louder. “I don’t have to know them, and neither should you. You’re coming in way past curfew. You’re getting into fights.”

  “That was one time, Mom.” Marie spoke louder over her. “And I told you the fight was no big deal.”

  “I heard that boy, Travis, got suspended for it. You could’ve been, too. I don’t even want to know if you’ve been doing anything worse with him and his friends around.”

  “It’s none of your business,” Marie said. Her lips pursed tightly together and she glared at her mother for a split moment. Her face and hands were hot with anger.

  Her mother raised her hands into Marie’s face which told Marie to shut up. She lowered her voice, and she spoke as calmly as she could, “I just don’t want to hear any news of something bad happening to you. That’s all.”

  Marie looked away from her and shook her head. “You don’t care if something bad happens to me. You just don’t want to hear that others are thinking less of me.” At this point she was thinking out loud.

  Her mother stared at her. Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want to hear either.” She stepped forward and extended an open hand. “Give me the applications. I’ll put them in the mail.”

  Marie stood in her way. “I can do it.”

  “Give them to me, Marie. It’s been too long already.”

  They stared at one another. Marie had never been so blatantly defiant before.

  But finally, Marie groaned and handed her mother the applications off her desk.

  “Dinner will be ready in an hour,” her mother said coldly.

  Her mother left the room.

  Marie let herself fall onto the bed. That house was suffocating her. Her mother was smothering. She grabbed her jacket off the bed, ready to go for a walk, when a silver chain fell out of the pocket, Travis’s silver chain. Marie held it in her hand and stared at it. It felt light and the metal was warm. Travis had done much to drive her away from him, but after being in that house for too long he was the only person she wanted to see.

  She picked up her phone and sent a message to Kate:

  MARIE: Do you know what street Travis lives on?

  KATE: He’s out in River Shores. Jillian Street. Why?

  MARIE: just wondering

  Down in the kitchen her mother was finishing dinner. Her father was at the table on his computer, zoned into business.

  “Hey, Mom. I’m gonna go to Bethany’s house. We’re gonna study for the test tomorrow.”

  Bethany was a girl in her chemistry class. Marie had never spoken more than a sentence to her.

  “What test?”

  “Our chemistry test. She says she’s having trouble with some of the memorization, and I was going to let her borrow my flash cards.”

  Her mother smiled. Marie knew it was because she was already hearing news of a new friend, a safer and more upstanding friend. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll save you some dinner.”

  “I’ll be back by nine.”

  “No,” her mother interrupted. “You’ll be back by seven.”

  Marie stood still. There was no fighting. “Okay, seven.”

  “And Marie,” her mother continued, looking down at the food she was preparing. “If I find out you’ve gone to see Travis, or anyone else like him, you won’t be leaving this house again until you graduate. Understand?”

  Marie’s stomach dropped. She did her best to keep her
breathing normal, and she had to consciously keep her fists unclenched. “I understand. I won’t – I pr, I promise.” She couldn’t stand there any longer, and so she walked away.

  “Good girl,” her mother said while Marie escaped through the front door.

  **********

  It was not hard to find River Shores. She drove her mustang down a country road leading from Crossfalls Business Center. The road led her past farm fields and overgrown woods until she found a battered sign that read the name of Travis’s neighborhood, River Shores. It was harder to find Jillian Street. River Shores was a maze of mobile homes, some kept and some gone to waste. Most of it was an untamed jungle of weeds and random objects: a tire, a chipped statue, or a broken swing set. Jillian Street was deep into the neighborhood, perhaps on the exact opposite side of the entrance.

  It was a small street, and it looked the worst of all of them. There were only two single-wide trailers along the rough gravel. One was half burned down. Marie could see the tattered insides of the home, untouched from when the fire had been put out. Whoever lived there must have left when the fire happened, not bothering to come back for anything. At the end of the street was a small trailer. The exterior metal panels were rusted; weeds and grass seemed to hold a wildly tight grip around the place. A beat-up, red truck was in the dirt driveway and a faint light shown through the small and seemingly only window of the trailer.

  Marie pulled her car to a stop in the dirt drive-way and took a deep breath.

  “This is it,” she said nervously. “This has to be it.”

  She got out and forced herself to the door of the trailer – then knocked.

  Immediately a voice yelled from inside, a woman’s voice, harsh and scratched and cold: “Who the hell is that, Travis?”

  “It’s Benji, Mom!” she heard Travis yell. “I told you he was coming!”

  The door flew open. It was Travis. “Benji I told you to call me before you --” He froze when he saw Marie.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Don’t let that fucker in here!” the woman called out.

  Travis stepped outside making Marie back up quick. He shut the door behind him, and then stumbled forward. He was only wearing a dirty pair of jeans and his hair was like a rat’s nest. There was a glazed expression over his face when he looked at anything else but Marie. When he looked at her, he would not look for long, for he would quickly look elsewhere in embarrassment, or shame.

  “What are you… doing here?” he slurred.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make your mom mad.”

  He rubbed his head and his eyes could not focus on one spot. “She’s always mad. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you okay?” Marie asked.

  “I’m fine.” His eyes were pink where there should have been white. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to give this back to you.” She showed him the chain.

  He stared at it. He looked away beyond the trailer, beyond the field behind it, and to the setting sun beyond that. He wiped his nose, and it seemed like he was deciding whether or not to take it back. He did, though, and put it back on around his neck. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  Marie stood still, not wanting to leave.

  “Is that it?” he asked, looking down.

  The trailer door opened, and it was his mother. She was a tall, emaciated looking woman leaning against the doorway with a cup in her hand. Her eyes were glazed like her son’s and she scowled at Marie as if she were eyeing a cockroach.

  “Who’s this?” the woman grunted.

  Travis rubbed his head again. “Mom, go back inside.” He closed his eyes, as if he could imagine her away.

  “Who is she Travis? Some new girlfriend?” His mother drank from her cup.

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

  The woman muttered something and stumbled back inside.

  Travis walked shakily back to the door and shut it, then turned around to Marie. “You should probably go.”

  “You don’t seem okay, Travis.”

  She stepped closer to him and was about to touch his arm.

  He backed away quick.

  “Why did you come here, Marie?” he asked angrily. “Why couldn’t you just give me this at school, huh?”

  “Travis, I didn’t --”

  “You just wanted to see where the piece o’ shit lived right?”

  “Travis, don’t call yourself that!”

  He tripped over a jutting rock and fell to the dirt. Marie rushed forward and knelt to him, getting a descent whiff of the liquor on his breath.

  “Jesus! I’m not even wearing a shirt,” he said laughing.

  He looked up at her and his stare held, seeing something that made him happier. His face lit up for a moment, like he’d forgotten everything but Marie.

  “You should’ve told me you were coming so I could put my suit on,” he said softly.

  She smiled. “Yeah, I guess I should have.”

  His eyes lowered and he looked for a moment at her lips, but he turned his head and moved his arms from her grip. He got to his feet, rejecting her help, and then made his way back to the trailer door.

  “Thanks for my chain, pretty girl.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said quietly.

  He looked at her, and while she could clearly see his eyes before he looked away, she saw the sadness in them that matched the melancholy in his voice. “Get outta here, Marie.”

  She put her hands on her hips and looked out at the setting sun like he had. There was heaviness in its fading light, like seeing a chance of something good sink beyond reach.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

  He was still looking at her. “Yeah, sure.”

  He waited a moment. Maybe he would have said something else, but he walked back into the trailer. For a second, she saw his mother’s face through the window, and she was saying something without the least bit of a kind expression.

  Marie drove out of the neighborhood minutes later. Part of her wished Travis was in the passenger seat. She had nowhere to go but back to her silent and frozen home life. She knew now that Travis was living in a similar hell. Her mother never wanted her to leave; his mother seemed like she didn’t want him there. Her world was as still as death; his seemed painfully out of control, and she wanted to take him from it. They could leave together - catch the setting sun before it was gone.

  But she was afraid. How could she help him? How could they run? She was only eighteen.

  XI

  Marie had washed down another cocktail by the time the sun was setting on the evening of James’s promotion party. The rooms in their country home were starting to spin in her vision, and the conversations around the room were growing fuzzier. Every so often she would catch a glare from her mother who knew that she was acting out of line.

  “So Marie, has James told you about that incident on the golf course last month?” one of James’s buddies asked.

  James laughed. “Come on man,” he said. “That old guy had it coming.” He slapped him on the shoulder, and then he turned his gaze to his fiancé. “Marie?”

  Marie was caught staring into the corner of the room. Her latest glass of alcohol and juice was half empty.

  “Marie?” his friend asked.

  “Huh?” She turned her head towards them so fast that it made her sway. James caught her before she stumbled.

  “Lightweight, huh?” his friend said.

  “Yes. It would seem so.”

  James laughed, loudly and artificially, but the guests believed it.

  Marie heard his laughter and assumed it was a cue, so she started laughing. Only her laugh was inappropriately loud and attracted uncomfortable stares. James was embarrassed.

  He whispered in her ear, “Stop it.”

  Marie shut up. Soon her mother was standing next to her and grabbing her arm.

  “Come on, Marie. I want to introduce you to someone.”

  “Oh gotta go,” Marie s
aid.

  She was giggling as her mother dragged her away from the group and her frustrated fiancé.

  “You are doing exactly what I told you not to do,” her mother whispered.

  “Just like old times huh?” Marie said.

  Her mother snatched the drink away.

  Marie put her hands on her hips and smirked at her.

  “Really? You think that does anything?” She tapped her mother’s nose and burst into further giggling.

  Leaving her mother, Marie sauntered out onto the porch. There were far more people there by that time, and Marie walked straight to the bartender.

  “Another one, please,” she said, beaming.

  The bartender lowered his eyebrows and placed his hands on the counter He shook his head.

  “Just make me another one Trav-- damn it! Just make me another one.” Marie swayed as she spoke.

  “You’ve had enough Miss.”

  Tapping her fingers on the counter, she waited, but he was not giving in.

  She leaned in close to him and roughly whispered, “Screw – you.”

  She dropped her empty glass onto the counter, which the bartender caught before it crashed to the floor. Guests watched her drag her feet madly back to the door.

  Back inside, Marie stood still and looked around the room. She had no friends here, and there was no one there she cared to make friends with. She was out of place, out of place in her own life. No one there, not even James or her mother, knew her – truly knew her. Perhaps she did not even know herself. There was only ever one soul that truly knew her. Before long she realized she was looking towards the window in the corner of the room, so she tore her attention from it and the pain that it brought.

  She heard her cellphone ringing faintly over the talking crowd. She glanced toward the kitchen. Her mother picked it up off the counter and answered. She looked at Marie. Marie could not hear her mother over the party, but she saw her mouth move to form the word ‘Kate.’ Her mother shook her head and hung up the phone. She took a last look at Marie before shaking her head again, this time out of disappointment, and leaving her sight to talk to someone else.