Vanagon

The Last Nerve

Old friends were catching up as Lucy stared off into the distance, nothing but mumbles were heard. Still contemplating her list of names for the poor turtle that is in Frank's possession. How can someone forget to feed a pet for three days?! With his alcoholism in mind, it doesn't seem impossible now. Luckily enough turtles can survive some time without food. She pulled out her phone and began to look at baby names, taking notes and even deleting a few that she didn't like. 

"Hey Luz, Ima go back home and feed the turtle," Frank said.

"uhuh." Lucy was too busy looking at her phone.

"Don't get kidnapped kid, I'll be right back" He said as if speaking to his own kid.

"I don't know, maybe it'll be fun?" She joked back

"What?! Don't say that shit Luz, anyways if you start to feel uncomfortable while I'm gone call me ok?" 

"I pinky promise, now go feed the poor turtle, your lucky it's not a cat or a dog. It would've attacked you by now and eaten your face."

"Yeah....lucky" Frank made his way to the car and soon home.

Lucy was still working on her list of names as Doug began to work on the old van, the silence of the shop began to bug Lucy. With the occasional whispered grumps from Doug, she switched from her list to now picking what music to play to break the awkward silence. She wondered what music Doug listened to, that could be her icebreaker from almost slicing his neck open earlier, she wasn't ready to apologize to him. Perhaps apologies weren't needed, after all, she was protecting Frank from him. She then thought if Frank perhaps deserved a punch to the face. Heck, most days she wanted to punch him herself. Finally, she decided on an old country song, he seems redneck enough to know this....right? Conway Twitty Hello Darlin' she contemplated on pressing play, her finger floating above the button. Looking at Doug and back at the song, maybe this isn't the best way to break the ice, but no other way exists in her mind. Everyone listens to music and bonds over it, right?

"Fuck it," she mumbled to herself and pressed play.

"Hello, Darlin'-" the first words of the song then cut off by Doug.

"Oh fuck no! Turn that off now." Doug yelled angrily from underneath the van.

"Why? Do you not appreciate Twitty?" She smirked knowing that this will invoke some entertainment.

"First of all." Doug began to squirm out from underneath the van, watching a full-grown man doing the worm to get out of a car, not the most graceful of things. He stood and threw down his oil-covered rag like a referee calling a fowl, he pointed a finger at Lucy, his shoulders already tense and forehead wrinkled.

"What kind of American name is Twitty? Second I hate this song." Doug stated.

"How can anyone forget a name like Twitty? Unlike yours the only way anyone can remember it is by associating it with a brownie. And this is a great road trip song if I have ever heard one." Lucy smiled and turned the volume up more to annoy Doug, his left eye twitching. This was a sign that Lucy was bouncing on top of his last nerve. 

"I. Don't. Like. This. Fucking. Song." Doug punctuates each work as if punching on point like a boxer in training. 

"So turn it off." Doug began to take a few steps toward Lucy.

"Nope, I love this song." She held up her phone taunting him.

"You little-" Doug cut himself off to lunge after her phone. Lucy tapped into her cat-like reflexes and leaped off the couch. Running to her van for a safe haven from this short-tempered redneck, as she ran she could see his forehead vein bulging, ready to pop any second. She willed her legs to run faster to her van, lungs already burning from the cause of too much smoking. She felt his outreached hand getting closer to her jacket, chills ran up her spine. She jumped through the side door, to the driver's side, and back out. Now on the other side of the van, she taunted Dough with the song. 

"Know you gotta move faster than a turtle to catch me!" Lucy yelled.

They began to run circles around the van, a true game of cat and mouse, but who is which? Doug is frustrated that he hasn't been close enough to catch her, the song replaying over and over at full volume as Lucy cackled with the fun this situation has brought her. After all her favorite pass time is to ride the last nerve till it snaps, that is how you get to truly know someone. Doug finally stopped in front of the van, he yelled in frustration, and he leaned down grabbing hold of the bumper. Using his anger to full his strength to lift the car and shift it to the side, Lucy began to back away from the car, seeing it in such a way meant one thing. Doug's last nerve has been broken all the way. Now standing face to face, she stood petrified like a deer in front of headlights. He stood panting and angry still, his hands balled up in fists, a stare that could truly kill. 

"oh shit," Lucy said to herself.

"Off. Now" Doug said between pants

"Yes sir." Lucy finally turned off the music. They stood this way for what seemed like hours, Doug still standing angrily and panting, Lucy caught in headlights. The silence of the shop began to seep in once more, nothing but the sound of Doug's panting to catch air once more, the air thick enough to carve. 

"Why don't you like this song?" Lucy asked innocently as she could, perhaps her girlish charms would work. Silence still hung in the air, Lucy took an interest in picking her hands since no answer had been given. Finally, Doug walked away to pick up the rag that he had ditched some time ago. He cleaned his hands with the worn-out rag, dirt had covered them from reaching underneath the bumper. 

"It reminds me of an old love," Doug muttered.

"A love huh? Is that why you are always angry hulk?" Lucy dared to poke the bear once more.

"Ima go to my office."

"But my car?"

"It's almost done anyways, just have to tighten some stuff, now leave me be kid." 

He slammed his office door, he quickly pulled a drawer open from the old desk in the office. The wood was no longer in its prime of beauty, with layers of sweat, oil, dirt, and grime have truly shown the amount of time that has passed. Reaching in to feel the smooth glass bottle, he swallowed desperately. With a deep sigh, he let himself drop onto the chair rubbing his face in hopes he could rub off the frustration he has felt. The warmth in his chest began to spread, his shoulders had dropped, and he thought. Everyone must have a vice in life, if not how can you continue?