After it took the better part of an hour to find someone willing to buy the wine, Marnie had to revise her opinion of the population of Eden. Even guys who looked like they could really use the money had refused her, and she’d found out quickly that it was useless to flirt. It wasn’t that the guys were gay, it’s just that they thought she was a weirdo. Hell, maybe that was why they refused her money. They must be worried that her weirdness would rub off on them.
She had focused on younger guys figuring she had a better chance with them, but as it grew later, she grew desperate and approached a man getting out of a brown van that had seen better days. He looked older than Uncle Cal. His clothes were filthy and hung on his scrawny body, and he was missing most of his teeth. He actually cackled when she offered him five bucks to get her a bottle of wine.
“Why, sure, pretty lady,” he said, leering at her. “What kind you want?”
She told him anything red with a screw cap and gave him a ten for the wine, promising to give him his fee when he gave her the bottle. She thought he might just pocket the money, but he was back in less than five minutes with the bottle of wine and a couple of bucks in change. She gave him another three ones.
“I wouldn’t mind helping you drink that, pretty thing.” He leaned into her personal space, grinning what she supposed he thought was a sexy smile, and she couldn’t hide a grimace as his rank breath hit her in the face. “I got a place just outside of town. We could go there.”
“I’d love to,” she said, “but I gotta meet some friends. Thanks for the wine.”
She hurried off before he could say anything else. She glanced back once and saw him getting into his van. Afraid he might follow her, she cut into an alley and through backyards, angling her way toward the river. As she emerged onto the paved road that seemed to be a boundary between the residential area and the university grounds, she looked for the van but didn’t see it. Either the smelly dude had accepted her refusal or she’d shook him. She crossed the road and turned right toward the river.
Well, I’m certainly not in Chicago anymore, she thought, as she came to the grassy riverbank and saw it empty. If this had been a bank along the Chicago River or the lake, there would have been people out for an evening stroll along the more respectable stretches and homeless people along the more disreputable ones. Even in a town as small as Eden, Marnie had expected people, especially students. Maybe they were all worn out from moving day. Their loss, my gain, she thought. I prefer to drink alone anyway.
She moved down the grassy hill to the pebbled concrete walkway that ran along the edge of the river. Benches sat at intervals and she plopped down on one. She unscrewed the cap and tipped the bottle up. She took a long drink, enjoying the familiar combination of sweetness and sting, and stretched her legs out. She could already feel herself starting to relax. It was too soon for the alcohol to have done its thing, so she recognized it as the placebo effect. Just having the bottle in her hands was like a magic talisman, one that she could use any time she needed to escape.
For a while, she simply sat and drank, pushing all thoughts from her mind. A rising full moon cast a wide swath of silver light across the river. It looked like a silver road, a magic road to match the magic bottle in her hands. On either side of the silver road, the moon’s glow was dimmer, but enough to see the rippling water as it flowed by with its cargo of twigs, leaves, and the occasional piece of trash someone had carelessly tossed in. The slow steady motion was mesmerizing. A motorboat went by heading south, two men in it. Probably heading home, she thought, and felt a pang. For a brief moment, she wondered what Lucy-Screw-Loose was doing, then she pushed that thought out of her mind. She didn’t have to wonder. She knew her mother was usually knee-deep in whiskey by the time the sun set and only sank deeper as the night wore on. She tipped the bottle up and took the last pull from it, savoring the final drops as they dripped onto her tongue.
She had a buzz on now. If she had another bottle, she knew she would open it, but she didn’t and that was okay. In fact, it was more than okay. She’d promised herself tonight was the last night and it was going to be. Starting tomorrow, she was going to get her act together. Classes didn’t start until Monday, so she had all day tomorrow to get some different clothes and some hair dye. She might not feel like a norm, but she could look like one if she tried and she was determined to try. Tonight had just been a farewell celebration of sorts, a farewell to the Goth look. Or maybe more like a celebration of something new, like when people smashed a champagne bottle over the hull of a new boat for good luck. She giggled. Yeah, that’s what she was doing—starting her maiden voyage as a norm. Her friends in Chicago would never believe it. Maybe she’d send them before and after pictures.
She drew her arm back and pitched the empty bottle toward the river. It sailed across the strip of grass on the other side of the walkway and hit the water with a splash. She watched as it started to float away with the current, then stood and stretched. She was relaxed enough to sleep now, roommate or no roommate.
She turned and started back in what she thought was the direction of her dorm. Lost in thought and the haze of the wine, she didn’t see him standing near the next bench or see him start to move. She was nearly to the top of the hill when she heard a sound behind her. Before she could turn, a strong arm went around her, pinning her own arms to her side. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could get even a squeak out, a hand holding what felt like a sponge closed over her mouth. The sponge smelled good, but it couldn’t be good, so she held her breath and struggled to free herself. Whoever held her was too strong and she could only hold her breath for a few seconds before she inhaled deeply. In seconds, she felt herself getting weaker and the lights from the university buildings began to grow dim. Her eyes went shut and her body went slack.
He picked her up and carried her back into the darkness.
She had focused on younger guys figuring she had a better chance with them, but as it grew later, she grew desperate and approached a man getting out of a brown van that had seen better days. He looked older than Uncle Cal. His clothes were filthy and hung on his scrawny body, and he was missing most of his teeth. He actually cackled when she offered him five bucks to get her a bottle of wine.
“Why, sure, pretty lady,” he said, leering at her. “What kind you want?”
She told him anything red with a screw cap and gave him a ten for the wine, promising to give him his fee when he gave her the bottle. She thought he might just pocket the money, but he was back in less than five minutes with the bottle of wine and a couple of bucks in change. She gave him another three ones.
“I wouldn’t mind helping you drink that, pretty thing.” He leaned into her personal space, grinning what she supposed he thought was a sexy smile, and she couldn’t hide a grimace as his rank breath hit her in the face. “I got a place just outside of town. We could go there.”
“I’d love to,” she said, “but I gotta meet some friends. Thanks for the wine.”
She hurried off before he could say anything else. She glanced back once and saw him getting into his van. Afraid he might follow her, she cut into an alley and through backyards, angling her way toward the river. As she emerged onto the paved road that seemed to be a boundary between the residential area and the university grounds, she looked for the van but didn’t see it. Either the smelly dude had accepted her refusal or she’d shook him. She crossed the road and turned right toward the river.
Well, I’m certainly not in Chicago anymore, she thought, as she came to the grassy riverbank and saw it empty. If this had been a bank along the Chicago River or the lake, there would have been people out for an evening stroll along the more respectable stretches and homeless people along the more disreputable ones. Even in a town as small as Eden, Marnie had expected people, especially students. Maybe they were all worn out from moving day. Their loss, my gain, she thought. I prefer to drink alone anyway.
She moved down the grassy hill to the pebbled concrete walkway that ran along the edge of the river. Benches sat at intervals and she plopped down on one. She unscrewed the cap and tipped the bottle up. She took a long drink, enjoying the familiar combination of sweetness and sting, and stretched her legs out. She could already feel herself starting to relax. It was too soon for the alcohol to have done its thing, so she recognized it as the placebo effect. Just having the bottle in her hands was like a magic talisman, one that she could use any time she needed to escape.
For a while, she simply sat and drank, pushing all thoughts from her mind. A rising full moon cast a wide swath of silver light across the river. It looked like a silver road, a magic road to match the magic bottle in her hands. On either side of the silver road, the moon’s glow was dimmer, but enough to see the rippling water as it flowed by with its cargo of twigs, leaves, and the occasional piece of trash someone had carelessly tossed in. The slow steady motion was mesmerizing. A motorboat went by heading south, two men in it. Probably heading home, she thought, and felt a pang. For a brief moment, she wondered what Lucy-Screw-Loose was doing, then she pushed that thought out of her mind. She didn’t have to wonder. She knew her mother was usually knee-deep in whiskey by the time the sun set and only sank deeper as the night wore on. She tipped the bottle up and took the last pull from it, savoring the final drops as they dripped onto her tongue.
She had a buzz on now. If she had another bottle, she knew she would open it, but she didn’t and that was okay. In fact, it was more than okay. She’d promised herself tonight was the last night and it was going to be. Starting tomorrow, she was going to get her act together. Classes didn’t start until Monday, so she had all day tomorrow to get some different clothes and some hair dye. She might not feel like a norm, but she could look like one if she tried and she was determined to try. Tonight had just been a farewell celebration of sorts, a farewell to the Goth look. Or maybe more like a celebration of something new, like when people smashed a champagne bottle over the hull of a new boat for good luck. She giggled. Yeah, that’s what she was doing—starting her maiden voyage as a norm. Her friends in Chicago would never believe it. Maybe she’d send them before and after pictures.
She drew her arm back and pitched the empty bottle toward the river. It sailed across the strip of grass on the other side of the walkway and hit the water with a splash. She watched as it started to float away with the current, then stood and stretched. She was relaxed enough to sleep now, roommate or no roommate.
She turned and started back in what she thought was the direction of her dorm. Lost in thought and the haze of the wine, she didn’t see him standing near the next bench or see him start to move. She was nearly to the top of the hill when she heard a sound behind her. Before she could turn, a strong arm went around her, pinning her own arms to her side. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could get even a squeak out, a hand holding what felt like a sponge closed over her mouth. The sponge smelled good, but it couldn’t be good, so she held her breath and struggled to free herself. Whoever held her was too strong and she could only hold her breath for a few seconds before she inhaled deeply. In seconds, she felt herself getting weaker and the lights from the university buildings began to grow dim. Her eyes went shut and her body went slack.
He picked her up and carried her back into the darkness.
