Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse

Dirty Laundry and Dirtier Bathroom Stalls

It's funny how people will ignore you if they think you are emotionally troubled, but the minute they see your face is beat to hell, they start to worry. The assumption must be that if someone is truly troubled they would reach out and ask for help, but they never do. That was perhaps why I appreciated Priest's offer so much. He knew I didn't want to talk, and probably didn't need to talk, but I did need to cry, even if I didn't want to.

I got a few looks on the way to the restroom, but in this type of place, it probably wasn't unusual to see a few black eyes. As it was, nearly everyone I passed had a gun in their hand or holster. I wondered if I shouldn't have asked Haden to come with me, since she was my new hero.

I entered the long galley bathroom and did a double take at two women making out against the wall between the air dryers. At least someone was having fun. I bent myself over the sink basin and washed the blood from my nose and lip. It was starting to hurt more and the bruising under my eye was already dark red.

I laughed at my mirror image. I thought I was done with bruises. The two lesbians joined me by the mirror and handed me a paper towel and a freshly lit homemade cigarette. I took both. I blotted my face off and noted that their kindness might have been them hitting on me. I was never sure what the rules of the new world were. Were threesomes back in, or had they never gone out?

"Poor baby, did your man do d'at to you?" The woman on my left was black and covered in shiny diamonds. With a little less bling she might have looked elegant. Her New Orleans accent was a refreshing change to the mumbled drawl I was used to.

"Something like that," I said. Her friend, as white as white could be, with a shaved head and as many piercings as New Orleans had diamonds, clicked her tongue and tipped her head in sympathy to that.

"You best give up on d'em men." New Orleans leaned over the counter to look at me in the mirror. "D'ey nothing but trouble. We can give you anything d'at man can, and twice as good, and twice as long."

"Mm-hmm," Buzz Cut agreed.

I smiled even though I was uncomfortable as hell. I took a drag of the cigarette and all at once I realized it was pot. I hadn't smoked tobacco more than twice in my life, so marijuana was even more trying to my lungs. As I coughed, the girls took it upon themselves to pat my back.

"Sorry, I thought that was a cigarette." I handed the joint back to them.

"D'at's okay, why don't you give it another try?"

"Pot is the new cigarette," Buzz Cut added when I didn't take the joint.

I was well aware that I was being hit on at this point, but I decided that being punched in the face might warrant a little drug experimentation. I shrugged and took the joint. Before I could take the hit, Garrett yelled at me from the door.

"Lenore, no!" He marched over, scattering the girls. He ripped the joint out of my hands and crushed it on the floor under his foot. He turned to the irritated women and shooed them like they were crows. "Get out!"

They glared back at him, but shuffled out the door. I stared after them, confused. "Crap, Garrett, since when are you so anti-drug?"

"Did you take a drag?" he asked, looking me over for signs of it.

"No—well I did, but I couldn't hold it."

"Shit." He rubbed his chin stubble. "Do you feel okay?"

"I don't think pot hits you that fast."

"I'm not worried about the pot. I'm worried about what they spiked it with." I looked down at the crushed joint, futilely trying to see what he was referring to. "Those were gang scangers!" he shouted as if I should know what that meant. He rolled his eyes. "Boy, you are a country mouse. They drug women and take them home to rape and molest like live blow-up dolls. Some of them will pimp women out on the street to whoever is willing to offer good drugs for a nearly passed-out woman."

My eyes must have come out of my head, because he put his hand out to stop me from fleeing the bathroom and the whole damned city. "It's okay though," he said softly. "They won't come back."

I hugged myself. Crap, what a bad night. "What do they spike the pot with?"

"Roofies, Ecstasy, something to make you... pliable."

I groaned and turned back to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. When I looked up he was watching me through the mirror. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you. Straighten your nose if necessary."

"I don't mean that." I turned and he moved in to check my nose. I instinctively tensed at his proximity, but I was more than familiar with his Mr. Fix-It side. He yanked on my nose, and I winced at the pain. "I mean here in the O. I thought you went back to Chicago."

"I did. I came back for the tournament."

I hadn't expected him to say that he had come back to see me, but the fact that he still hadn't acknowledged the relationship we had developed over three months of close proximity was insulting to my ego... and my heart.

"Well, have fun with that." I turned back to the sink to fluff my hair. "I won't be cheering for you, but don't assume that it's because of Haden."

"Don't be mad at me just because you wouldn't defend yourself," he scolded. "August was right. You were ready for me and you just gave up."

"I didn't give up, you arrogant ass! I stood up!" I yelled at him through the mirror. "I am not going to be your fucking puppet! Anyway, I'm not mad because you hit me! I've gotten used to that by now."

"Why are you mad then?" he asked, throwing his arms up. I crossed my arms and turned around to face him. My eyes double-dog dared him to guess why. He flushed. "Look, Lenore, I told you that I couldn't stay with you."

"That's not... We can come back to the subject of a fling versus a one-night stand, because there is a difference. What I'm mad about is you didn't even say hello to me, you asshole."

"I wasn't sure how to handle you, given how much I'd put you through, including the one-night stand."

"Well, you start out with a greeting; pick your favorite. Then you ask me how I've been, instead of talking to your sister about me like I'm a lab rat."

"I didn't want to... August doesn't need to know about us... I mean, what I do is my business."

"Oh, my god, you're such a dick!" I stomped toward the exit.

"Hello, Lenore." Garrett said it without ire, and perhaps even smoothly, if that was possible with only two words. It stopped me in my tracks. "You look well. Aside from where some dirtbag decided to overstep his boundaries." I turned back with a slight smirk. He was smooth when he wanted to be. Too bad he didn't want to be very often.

"You look good too. It's good to see you." It was good to see him. I may not have missed the endless training, but I had missed him.