A Worn Backpack Part 7

“How long did you say we’d be waiting before he came back?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll come back. I know him. He’ll definitely come back.”

The hours passed as the two sat silently below the blazing southwestern sun. With the hours waning by, neither said a word, made a movement. Like two beings waiting patiently for their end, with nothing but faulty, naïve hope holding them to life, they remained on that step in front of the dirty glass door - the only civilization, if you could call it that, for 100 miles. The sun creeped slowly to the western direction, dusk eased itself over their forms.

While the two sat before the convenience store, a subtle creak was present behind them, as a shadowy figure appeared.

“I’m closing up. You two kids got a place to stay?” the old man stared at them. “Sure’s as heell, yuh aint staying here the night.” He continued staring.

“Our friend’s coming back for us soon. Don’t worry, we won’t be here for long,” Jimmy answered.

The old man stared a few more moments, turned around, and walked to the back of the gas station. Catherine buried the situation in her memories, and watched the sun set over the horizon. Jimmy watched her for a minute, waiting for a reaction, and receiving none, joined her. They heard the sound of an engine start and fade away, as the old man drove down the road. As the sun crept over the edge of land, the two were left in complete darkness.

“So now what? We camp out here? Jimmy face it, he’s not coming back. We’re stuck here, and now we can’t go anywhere, we can’t stay anywhere, we’re-”

The reaction that she finally let out was interrupted, as if on cue, by the sound of wheels on pavement. A car approached, and they both turned heads. An all too familiar, beat-up, no longer white sedan drove into a parking space to their left. The door opened. Max stepped out, looked at them, and leaned against the car, arms crossed, waiting.

“Please. Does he really expect us to go without a word?” Catherine whispered to Jimmy, suddenly surprised by his rising movement.

“You said it yourself mere moments ago, we’ve got nowhere else to go,” Jimmy replied as he walked over to Max.

Catherine sat still for a moment, perfect awe falling across her face. Max rolled his eyes, and began to turn, preparing to leave her behind. She stood and let all her anger flow as she marched over to him.

“What the heck is wrong with you!? You left us here nearly the whole day, basking in the hot sun, with absolutely nothing, and you expect us to just follow you back? To say nothing? Are we your puppets, ready for your control at any moment? Are we just toys to be played with? Well, you have something else coming because-”

“Shhh. Catherine, you don’t know what you’re getting into,” Jimmy tried to stop her, but he was left unheard as she continued to let her rage out.

Max, now sitting in the front seat of the car, watched her intently as she spoke, but before she could finish, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the car. His fury-filled face mere inches from hers, he began.

“Now look here, you followed us all this way. If it wasn’t for your stupid fucking questions, you would’ve never been left in this shithole, you got that? You already decided you were coming. It’s either all in, or all out. You can’t go back, and I aint letting you out. Now get the fuck out of my sight, and sit still ‘till the morning. Got it?”

Catherine gulped. Now in full fear of what Max was actually capable of, she crawled through the car, into the back seat, and wedged herself by the seat where she left her backpack earlier.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” the door slammed, and Max sped off across the highway.

Five minutes into the ride, Jimmy, also in the backseat this time, didn’t take his eyes off Catherine. Finally, he pulled her backpack out of her hands, and pulled the sketchbook out. Catherine contested, but knowing she couldn’t say anything without Max getting angry again, she sat still, glaring at Jimmy, now opening her sketchbook, and beginning to write. He handed it back to her.

I told you not to get into this. What were you thinking? You should’ve just listened to me.

Catherine scribbled something down, and passed the sketchbook back.

It’s not my fault. You know as well as I that he’s the only one to blame here. How do you put up with this?

The last message of the night:

I’m telling you, you have no idea what you’re getting into. Just try to stay on his good side, ok? He can do a lot more to you than you’d think. Trust me, you don’t want him to get that angry. Just let it go, and try not to make him mad anymore.

She looked up at Jimmy after reading the message, finally realizing what she had gotten herself into. Facing forward, she bent over. Without noticing, but with no power to stop it, she cried. Tears of fear and regret drenched her backpack, hugged between her face and legs, now filled with a sketchbook, a few pencils, an empty water bottle, and her first desire to be home, since she left.