Each time I hear
John Prine sing
“We made love
Every way love
Can be made”
I have to change
The song
“How much were the tickets?”
Sally Mae let out a sly chuckle, knowing what Billy was getting at.
“90 bucks,” she replied. “Why? You don’t wanna go now?”
“We got 8 hours to kill and at the rate we’re going it doesn’t look like there’s a point”
“I don’t care. Fuck it. Let’s go home.” It was true. Sally Mae didn’t care. They were three hours from home, in the wilderness, the middle of nowhere, and he made a sound argument: at the rate things were going, with them fighting like two rabid dogs, what was the point? How much fun would a John Prine concert really be after a day like this? Not to mention, her head still smarted from where he accidentally elbowed her. They were just chasing their tails now. She felt it was a good time to throw in the towel but was still hurt he felt that way.
She sat in silence. She fought tears and tried to focus her blank stare out the window. Every few seconds she’d give Cinnamon, Billy’s old cattle dog, a scratch behind her ears. Cinnamon, like a type of ballast, lay stretched out across Sally Mae’s lap. Practically holding her down.
Billy drove on, also in silence. He was working hard at something in the corner of his mouth. Every few seconds he’d look lovingly over at Cinnamon and give her a little smirk. After about a half-hour of driving, he pulled into a parking lot.
“What are we doing?” Sally Mae asked.
He parked the old, white pick-up truck. The truck surrendered and slumped into a dead stupor, sighing as Billy hopped out.
“I’m letting Cinnamon swim in the lake,” he said as he spit on the concrete. “That okay with you?”
“I just wanted to know. Jesus. I can’t read your mind. So what now? Should I just stay here?” She meant to think those questions, not ask them.
“I don’t care. Do whatever the fuck you want.”
She got out of the truck to let the dog out. Sally Mae decided then that she wasn’t about to sit in the hot truck while he took his good old time. She followed behind Billy and Cinnamon as they walked down the path to the lake. Cinnamon knew water was near. She would have normally run ahead, but she stayed between Sally and Billy, looking back at Sally here and there as if to say, “Come on, let it go, already. You know how he can get.” Sally wanted so badly to just let it go. But she did know how he could get, and the spot on the back of her head that was still pulsing made her wonder if she’d only seen the beginning. It was just an accident she told herself, but after the night she spent tossing and turning, silently crying, she knew this could be the one time she might not just “let it go.”
The three of them walked down a crunchy path lined with tall trees, some of which were starting to shed their summery warmth, surrendering to their autumnal glow. Sally tried not to look down as she walked, remembering what he said months ago about her being “this shrinking mouse.” She tried to stand tall. She looked to the trees, looked to the dog, looked to the man. She shrunk again.
I walk to the river
In a feeble attempt
To quiet that constant loop
Replaying those early days
When you looked at me
And you said I had
“kind eyes”
When I sat on your bed
And you read from a book
The poems you wrote
And I just had to dream
About what our kids
Might look like
Someday.
I look to the river
And I smile and think
You’d’ve never allowed
Our kids to come here.
“Looks like they’re taking the kids to the water park,” Sally Mae said waving to the family they met the day before. Sally and Billy sat watching the family of five from across the street. The parents were buying donuts for their three kids while Sally and Billy ate pancakes outside a rustic log cabin restaurant. Cinnamon paced between the two of them looking up at them, longing for scraps.
“Ugh. I don’t think I’d even take my kids there,” which is what Sally thought he might say.
“Awe, I would,” Sally shrugged. “Kids love water parks.” Sally tried to sound light-hearted, but not because she was feeling particularly light-hearted. She wanted him to be light-hearted—for just once. Like how he used to be.
“Yeah, but I’d take them—I dunno—to the lakes and forests. There’s so much better things to do here. You’d really come all the way to the Appalachian Mountains and spend your time at some shitty water park?”
“Yeah,” she was being very pleasant now, “I mean, if they were good all week, I think I’d take them to the water park or some place they wanted to go.”
Sally and Billy were talking about kids they didn’t even have yet.
“Yeah, but you can’t just give kids whatever they want.”
“If they’re good, I don’t see why they can’t have a little fun,” she said feigning a smile, shrinking into her seat.
Cinnamon surrendered from her begging to lie across Sally’s feet as she pushed her pancakes around on the plate. She couldn’t help but picture three little kids in the backseat of a mini-van begging to go to the water park as Mom and Dad drove past it. One of them would start crying. What would happen then?
It was then Sally recalled the story about the little boy. Billy told her his last girlfriend had a son. He said he got along great with that little boy. He’d take him to the park and play fetch with the old dog he had back then. Billy said one day this boy, probably only 5 or 6, intentionally threw the ball at Billy’s face. He claimed the boy did it maliciously and for no reason at all. When Sally asked what Billy did then, before he could even answer, she wished she hadn’t asked.
“So what are we going to do today?” Sally dropped it.
I drive past Villa Barone
Where we sat outside
And you teased
Because I ordered spaghetti
On our first date
I was too nervous
Light-headed
Dizzy
Enamored
To even order real food.
On the way to the movie
You pointed out the couple
In the car next to us
Having oral sex.
I still look in cars
To catch a glimpse
Of what goes on
When no one’s looking
But I already know.
“Want to go for a walk before heading home?”
“Sure,” Sally said trying not to sound too eager. She already knew what she’d tell her roommate. She met the man she was sure to spend the rest of her life with. Billy Kincaid. He had to be it.
Billy pulled out of the movie theater parking lot and drove downtown as they listened to Bob Dylan. His favorite song was “Tangled Up in Blue;” hers, “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright.” He said he was shocked she listened to the same music. Most girls listen to crap he said.
“Ever heard of John Prine?” he asked as he searched the pile of CDs, road maps, and paperwork that covered the dashboard.
“No, what’s he sing?”
“Well, he’s only my number one favorite of all time. You’d love him.” He paused, “I mean I think you would. Because you like Dylan and Johnny Cash, so I think you’d really like him.”
“What’s his name again?”
“John Prine.”
“No, never heard of him.”
I tried hiking
Writing
Photography
School
Everything has you in it
You’re everywhere.
Your good
And your bad
Are everywhere.
I got laid off
I got hired
My dad’s doing better
But it’s complicated.
I
Just
Want
To
Share
It
All
With
You
“You have one new voicemail,” the familiar woman’s voice says into Sally’s ear followed by what may as well have been a ghost.
“Hey, it’s me, Billy.” It had been three weeks since she heard that voice. “I just wanted to tell you I was thinking about you. I hope you’re alright. I haven’t seen you around, and I’m just worried about you. I do care about you, Sally. I care about you a lot. Well, I don’t really have the words to say. I just wanted to tell you I think about you. Okay… bye.”
She couldn’t believe he called. She thought he was too full of pride. She thought he was halfway to Colorado by now. She thought her leaving would have been the perfect excuse for him to go back to life as a cowboy. After all, he said, “I’m fucking done with women forever. You’re all the same.” He didn’t mean it. She knew how he could get. He also said, “If you don’t like it, get the fuck out you motherfucking bitch.”
So, she did. Almost.
She surrenders to the advice of friends. Don’t call back. Move on with your life. She tries. She tries so hard. She thought she’d found the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. She wondered how does a person move on with life when life turns out to be so different from what was expected?
So here we are.
A date is set for Friday
Villa Barone
Give it another try.
You say we can do things
Right this time.
You say you
-Never felt this way before
-Know where we went wrong
-Would do anything for me
You say you Love me.
I feel the same.
Promise I do.
But
Unlike you
I’m not a fighter.
I can’t win.
~ Amanda Hinski
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