Stuck In Endora

Chapter Four

I wake up the next morning and get out of the house as soon as possible. We need groceries again so I decide to occupy my time with getting them. I drive down to Lamson's Grocery, only Mr. and Mrs. Lamson are there today.

"Morning, sir," I smile at Mr. Lamson who's at the counter, fiddling with the register.

"Morning Wynne!" He grins at me, "How are you today?"

"Very well, thank you,"

I walk up and down the aisles and gather my groceries. The door opens and I turn to see who it is. It's Mrs. Betty Carver. She nods to Mrs. Carver, who has taken over at the counter. Soon, she's in the same aisle as I am. I pretend to be studying a box of rice as she passes by, but after a minute or two, she's still there.

"Gilbert delivered your groceries a few days ago, right?"

"Yes m'aa'm, but he delivers everyone's groceries, I brought my car today." I smile my best please-leave-now-the-delivery-boy-is-all-yours smile and put the box of rice back.

"Good," she says and strides away. 

I open the door into my house the and gag at what I smell. The sent of whiskey fills the room, top to bottom, it invades my lungs. I pivot and walk out of the door again. Jesus Christ. I drop the few bags of groceries I brought home on the steps and get into my car. I don't know where I'm gonna go but it's not here. I rip out of the driveway and start driving. I hate them, I hate those people who are supposed to be my "parents". I stop the car and lean over to the glovebox. I find an empty whiskey bottle - typical. Digging more, I find napkins, shot glasses and... No way...money. A whole stack of bills which I procede to count. About fifteen hundred dollars. I stuff it in my pocket. Thank you drunken father for starting my new house fund. I shut the glovebox and get ready to start off again when I catch sight of a Ford truck. Damnit. He pulls over. He never cared before, Jesus, why now? He knocks on my window, and honestly, relief floods over me.

"Hey, Wynne, right? You o-" he catches sight of the empty whiskey bottle on the floor. "Tough morning?" 

I shake my head, "No, no, that's not mine. But, uh, yeah, kinda. Had to get outta that house."

"God, I know that feeling. Hey, uh, listen, I got the day off today you wanna go somewhere with me?" 

I hesitate, but I go on, " Yeah, uh, yeah sure. Can I ride with you? Nobody's gonna steal this piece of junk." I pat the steering wheel.

"Sure," he smiles and I get out of my car. Once we're on the road again he turns to me, "So, if ya don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"Uhm... I don't know where to start, really. My dad was drinking again and my mom was nowhere to be found and I ... Uh... It's just always like this and I couldn't take it."

He nods, " Jesus, I'm sorry Wynne."

"Yup," I say. There's an awkward silence and I'm tempted to ask how he likes being Mrs. Carver's little toy, but I don't actually want to know... Or ask.

We pull into a strange place. A cemetery. I stare at Gilbert for a long time. He smiles. " I come here a lot." 

"Oh... Yeah?" I ask, trying to remain casual.

"It's quiet, I like it here, and my dad's here too,"

"Oh, I'm so sorry..."

"No, no, it's fine. Here, ya wanna go walk?"

We walk for a while and he talks and I listen.  We sit down near his father's grave, and he points to a gravestone near it, "That was my second grade teacher,"

"Yeah? Who was it?"

"Mrs. Brainer,"

"Oh my God, I had her too! She was so fake,"

" I know, I hated her," he laughs.

We get up and walk for a while more and I explain my hellish situation at home in great detail. He talks too and turns out, his life isn't all Mrs. Carver and groceries. We find our way back to his dad's gravestone, because, I assume, it's the only person he feels comfortable sitting on. 

I lean back and we sit for a while, I catch him looking at me. " Y'know, I've seen you and Mrs. Carver." I blurt out, without really meaning too. By now I'm tempted to tell him about the interaction I had with her in the store this morning, but I don't.

"I knew we'd never really get away with it," is all he has to say. " I regret every day with her but, I feel bad and I can't leave her,"

" I wouldn't leave my worst enemy to deal with Ken Carver alone," I grin. Why am I letting him get away with it? I think for a minute and come up with this: for the same reason I'd want anyone to let me get away with it. He's probably as lost and desperate as I am, I never thought of it that way. I guess we're kind of similar.

" I never really loved her," he says.

" You don't have to defend yourself, Gilbert, I get it."

He grabs me. I'm in his arms. Hug. 

"Oh God, I uh. Look I don't... Uh, I'm sorry. "

" Gilbert I can't... I don't..." How does one explain they don't really feel anything?

" Look, Wynne, I'm sorry. I don't know why I..." 

"Don't worry about it," I say, less shaken than I actually am.

"So... Mrs. Carver, I never loved her. Never loved anyone, actually."

" Is that so?" I say. I stare at him and remember that painful look I saw in his eyes that night I was walking. He looks distant, desperate... Tired. I've only spoken to this man a few times and yet I understand it all now. I understand why he needs Mrs. Carver and why he hugged me. He's lost. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't lost too.