Silas’ hands shook, his heart beat increased, and he began to rock. He couldn’t think, as the fear of going to jail, being under the influence of a dangerous sleazy pair like Bart and Zola, and having no way out took over his body. He put his quivering fingers on the Cutlass’ tire, tried to stand but lost his balance and fell to the ground, his damaged face scratched up more by gravel. Olive’s voice ricocheted off him.
“Silas, not now, for chrissakes!”
He closed his eyes, trying to use the darkness to snap out of the attack.
“Si, honey, listen to me. We have to stay strong. I can get us out of this. Okay? Come one, stand up and get over this.”
Olive rolled him over and straddled his waist. She pulled her t-shirt off and smiled at him in just her bra.
“They won’t give us a hard time if they think we’re doing it in the driveway instead of you freaking out and me playing nurse.”
She grinded against his crotch and but her bottom lip. The plan that left her lips calmed his nerves.
“Silas, the cops back home in Georgia know nothing but bad guy who got shot. I called my cousin, and she told me and Zola everyone thinks me and you went to the beach for a few days. We’re fine, baby, totally. Now, let’s go inside, eat Zola’s spaghetti, you take Bart’s job tomorrow, drop me off at the club for my first shift and we make as much money as possible and leave when we get enough. This can work, baby. If our families call we tell them we got jobs for the summer down here and we roll with that. Now, get it together, okay? Let’s go inside and I’ll get something from Zola’s medicine cabinet to chill you out for the night.”
He swallowed but his throat dryness made him choke. Olive writhed over him some more then leaned down and kissed him. The wetness of her lips soothed his mouth. He leaned up and returned the affection. She pulled away from him and laughed.
“Forget Zola’s pills, I know how to make your feel good all the time.”
It was the last thing he wanted her to say. He pulled her off and bounded to his feet. Olive got up and jumped in front him, still shirtless.
“Damn it, Silas, grow up! You have a hot girlfriend who loves you in spite of this crazy crap you do! You should appreciate it a lot more!”
He slowed his breathing and stared at Olive. He wanted to tell her it was her fault they’d killed someone and were now in debt to a drug dealer. He wanted to go home and try to figure out how to be a good man, again. Olive stood in front of him, grinning, half naked, and fearless. He loved her guts but questioned her heart. He knew she felt the opposite so he tried to prove himself with his response.
“Sometimes I just want you to love me a normal girlfriend. Put your shirt on and let’s go eat the hooker’s spaghetti.”
He walked a few steps toward the house then turned around. Olive stood in the same spot, grinning, and said “I love you so much.”
This is a new story episode, unprompted, of Silas and Olive, my 2 19-year-old lovers on the run in 1989 Florida. It’s a short story I’m serializing called Light of Day.
Today’s song comes from something they’d listen to. It’s Ways To Be Wicked from one of the most underrated bands, ever, Lone Justice. It fits the story, well.
I wrote two books. They got good reviews. The third one, a sequel to the first, Woman Of Troy, is on the way, next month.
The Ballad of Helene Troy, an underdog story about a female musician in New York City, and Soul To Body, about an ex-1990s guitar player trying to raise his teenage daughter after the death of his wife, her mother, are available, digitally, on Amazon.com for your kindles, and in paperback from Lulu.com