Man Power
Samantha Boring
Michael Morrison
The edge of the paved road cracked beneath the weight of Kira’s car as she turned left towards home, instead of right. Her tires skirted the edges of the old forgotten Township 17 pulling her down closer towards the ditch. “This is what I get for going to see Pam,” she said aloud as she was pulled off the road by its crumbling edges. Her muffler fell off when she wrangled her way back onto the road. She was trying to think of a way to swoop back to it, and ended up driving on the other side of the road instead. She quickly jerked herself back onto her side when she remembered it was Thursday. The farmers would be out soon with their tractors; and she really didn’t feel like buying yet another car after yet another accident.
She turned left again into Pam’s 3 mile gravel driveway and swerved to avoid the improperly placed garbage can.
Pam had been home the whole day. Her office building was flooded and her entire section was given the week off. She heard Kira’s car swerve and cursed the garbage men for their ignorance and lack of respect. “No feck. No feck at all.” She then placed two glasses on her table and went to the cupboard for the vodka as Kira entered.
“This is prolly the first and last time I will ever say this, but thank god for that damned trash can. Snapt me out of a mood I was having. I lost my muffler again getting here and Tom won’t be happy with that.” Kira flung her purse around for punctuation as she spoke, eventually placing it on the table, taking up instead the bottle of vodka. Kira went to put the bottle to her mouth but then saw the glasses; the liquid made a general sloshing sound as she poured. Thank god for vodka.
“I thought you had to work today.” Pam said after she had gulped down a hefty portion.
“I did. I got promoted.” Kira beamed with pride and chugged from the bottle. This is the best job I’m ever going to get.
“Um, Kira? I know it’s great getting a raise and all but…”
“I’m not a waitress anymore. They put me on the register; you know the one with a chair? It’ll be so nice to get to sit for a change.” He’ll call that lazy. She lifted her glass and with a glug it was gone. “They gave me the rest of the day off. I also get vacation time now. They encouraged me to get a bank account in my name. They don’t want Tom’s greasy hands on my money. Told me to go buy nicer clothes, treat myself.” As soon as Tom finds out about the clothes he’ll think I’m whoring myself. Kira chugged like a pro. “So I thought I’d just stop by and spoil myself with friendly company and good alcohol.” I’d rather be here than home. She looked down at the nearly empty bottle and pulled a fresh one out of her purse. “Tom should be gone the whole day. So you and I have the chance to catch up.” Keep me here…
“Well I’ll let you get drunk here but remember that you do eventually have to go back home and you probably shouldn’t drive drunk. You’re bad enough at it as it is.” They both chuckled. It’s not the driving I’m worried about.
They sat and played a card game called “speed” for a few hours while they talked about the past few months. Pam revealed another man in the mix of her life and Kira mostly talked about what Tom did in their free time. Kira’s focus was Tom; he wouldn’t have it any other way. Her own hopes and dreams died a long time ago, when he proposed. He told her not to worry anymore and that their life together would be perfect if he was in charge, so she gave him the control.
Around 8:30 Pam’s automatic lights kicked on and signaled Kira to go home. “Now Kira you drive safely, ya’ hear? If anything starts to go bad you let me know. I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks Pam, I’ll keep my cell phone on in case.”
Kira drove home with the radio blasting Blind Melon. It was one of her favorite songs, even though it had an eerie message of lost hope. She felt understood while listening to a dead man’s explanation of her life. She sang along with a drunken gusto, “And obvious I have seen it all before-oo-ore…my feet are so cold… and I can’t believe that I have to bang-my-head-against-the-wall-againnnnn. Whoa the blows they have just a liiitle more space in between the-hem. Gonna take a breath and try TRY AGAIN.” She took great pleasure in all the whoa o oooh’s that followed, driving with her eyes closed when the harmonica sang. At night she often hoped for a crash.
The lights were on at her house when she arrived ten minutes later. “Could you open the door Tom?” Because of tight money situations Kira and Tom had been unable to fix the door after the last break-in. Instead Tom had opted for the simple and cheap method of sliding a dresser in front of the door. To him it would keep people either out or in.
Kira floated across the welcome mat and into the shag carpeted living room. “Why are you home early?” His words sounded like a threat.
“I got a raise and they let me go home.” She froze waiting for the next question.
“How much of a raise?” His tone was jealousy.
“A dollar.” Her heart skipped a beat at the white lie. She wondered if he already knew. She wanted to keep the extra dollar for the new account she opened. If she ever got pregnant, her last hope for freedom, Tom would question the paternity and she needed a nest egg. “They want me to get nicer clothes so I can be the cashier.”
“How did that happen? What did you sleep with your boss? Dance around in front him?” he raised one eyebrow in mock humor and lowered the corners of his mouth in a snarl.
“No, of course not. They just see my potential. Please don’t make assumptions like that.”
“Well, let’s drink to YOUR success.” He reached into the liquor cabinet and pulled out tequila and gin. Kira’s stomach turned as she thought of how the vodka would sit next to gin. But she was far more afraid of the effects the tequila would have on Tom. “Whad’ya want babe?” He said ‘babe’ with sarcasm and indignation.
“I’d rather not Tom.”
“Well this is the perfect occasion to get shit faced, and that’s what we are going to do.” He slammed down the tequila bottle in front of Kira and went for the glasses. She wondered whether or not it was her success or his alcoholism that made him want to drink. Either way it’s bad.
Kira’s stomach performed acrobatic feats as he poured two glasses for her, and he chugged from the bottle. “Really it’s no big thing, except I’ll get… I’ll get a paid vacation in 6 months.” She hesitated to say it. Tom’s face began turning red as the tequila took over. He had been working in the same construction company for years and never got a paid vacation. To Kira the red looked more like rage.
“Well… isn’t that nice? Paid Vacation.” The particles of spit that came out of his mouth gave more light to his sarcasm. “Aren’t ya’ gonna drink?” he scooted the glasses closer to her by flicking each at the base. “It’s your party, YOU should drink.” Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. He looked down at her with drunken determination. “Drink!”
Kira lifted one shot to her face and gagged on the smell. She hated mixing liquors but didn’t dare say she already celebrated. She obeyed and swallowed it down. She closed her eyes for the second shot, and Tom used the opportunity to stand up to walk closer to her. As she was gasping for air after the harsh taste, he leaned down in her face and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had gone to Pam’s?” Kira went pale. He was waiting for me?
“How do you know I went to her house?”
“You came from the wrong direction when you pulled in the driveway. Why do you do this to yourself? To me? I fucking hate lairs and hiding is… is the same as lying.” He turned away and made a disgusted face.
“But Tom…”
“Don’t you fucking ‘but Tom’ me!” He whipped his arm around and hit her ear with enough force that he knocked her out of her seat.
Kira had been through this many times before. She went limp and let Tom work out his anger. He stomped around for a bit like a child’s temper tantrum, and then came back to kick her in the stomach. She had no idea why he was still attacking her until she saw her shot glass fall and break and heard no sound.
That must be it. I’m not responding. Kira knew that not answering whatever questions or accusations was worse than answering them wrong. “Please Tom no!” She cried in vain as he kicked her in the head. Her ear bled slowly. She was too close to the dresser. One more solid kick and my head will collide with it. Kira tried to stand up but her stomach bruises kept her in a fetal position. Tom pointed a finger at her and said something that only sounded like static. There was a faint mumble in the other ear. She turned her head slowly and painfully to try to hear.
“And that’s why you’re always going to have nothing! You are nothing! I deserve better than you…” Tom walked closer. What why? What did I do? I don’t understand. “Not a fucking cunt like you… you make me sick!” He buried his knee under her chin. The back of her head collided with a drawer handle and the lights went out.
A little while later she woke to find Tom pumping away on top of her. She didn’t want to open her eyes. “So you wanna hide money from me? Is that it? Cause you want a baby? Well have my baby, Baby.” The rhythm increased as well as the pressure on her arms, pinning her to the floor. This was not her idea of make-up sex; they had not made up. Kira started to cry, and Tom saw she was awake again. “You don’t get it do you?” He head butted her and the lights were out, for good. The ultimate freedom…