Edward Lorn - Crawl

He loved her. She had no doubt. But hed also betrayed her. And now they were on a road trip from Alabama to Georgia so she could spend some time with her mother in Warner Robins. Mom would comfort her and lead her in the right direction. After Colton returned home, he would make-do by himself; hed feed the dog and write his books and watch his Doctor Who. And she, Juliet, would find out whether or not she still loved him. And if she didnt? Perhaps shed ditch her Judas and find herself. Or whatever it was that divorced thirtysomethings did.

Colton had been quiet since theyd left Mobile, and now he stared straight ahead, the red lights of the dashboard painting his stone face crimson. She thought, not for the first time, that he looked like Stonehenge. Or a Stonehenge. She wasnt sure which the proper use was. Maybe Colton looked like a damn henge made of stone. His eyes had become baggier since his infidelity had been discovered. He also slumped more. Frumpy was the word that came to Juliets mind. His entire skin looked looser. Her big strong man had become a rotting pumpkin.

She imagined stress could do that to a person. But thats what he got for slipping his dipstick into another Buicks engine. There was nothing wrong with her. As far as she was concerned she had been more than active enough in the bedroom. Colton didnt necessarily have a ferocious sexual appetite, and that was part of what confused her so. When theyd first met theyd been like any other couple, fornicating like pubescent rabbits. Even after they married a year and a half later, sex was something done more than once a day and never out of routine. They made love. They fucked. They tasted each other. Were each other. Nine years later, coitus had become a weekend practice. Friday or Saturday night, sometimes Sunday morning, theyd give porn stars a run for their money. Fun sex. Freaky-deaky bang-a-rang kind of bumpity-bump. Sometimes the cuffs came out. Other times, flavored gels were on the menu. But Juliet was always the instigator, the coach, directing Coltons QB into the pocket. Never did it occur to her that maybe Colton didnt want her, that he hungered for new scratch. Had he asked, she would have done anything to make him happy. But no, hed cheated. And with the dog sitter of all people.

Colton tapped the dashs display. Were running low on gas.

Then pull over. Her statement came out sterner than shed meant. She almost apologized, but thought better of it. Best to make him believe he was skating on thin ice with white-hot flatirons strapped to his feet. Colton had to think she was never coming back from her mothers. That was the only way this was going to work.

Right, was all he said, drifting onto the first Opelika exit ramp.

The radio said it was quarter past one in the morning. Because of this, the only gas station open wasnt truly open at all. It did, however, allow you to pay at the pump. Colton pulled the Subaru into the first row of tanks by the road, killed the engine, and hopped out. Juliet tracked him in the mirror all the way around the back of the car and to the rear fender on her side. He walked with a slow gait, his head down and his shoulders rolled in, concaving his chest. He looked so depressed she wanted to spit. She kept repeating her mantra, Thats what you get, Colton. Thats what you get. What you get

He knocked on the window, jarring her out of her thoughts.

Gimme the card out of my wallet. Its in the center thingie.

She popped the latch on the consoles lid and dug around inside until she came across his leather billfold. She yanked the American Express out of its sleeve and inserted it through the crack in her window. Colton grumbled a thank you, and swiped the Am Ex through the pumps reader. He jammed the card into his pants pocket, lifted the nozzle from the base, and rammed it into the side of the car. The car morphed into Vicky the perky-titted dog sitter, and Colton became the gas pump. His nozzle filled her.

Stop it. Juliets trembling voice filled the tight confines of the hatchback. Youre not helping anyone by constantly reminding yourself why youre on this little jaunt across the Alabama/Georgia line. Just stop it.

I wonder if Vicky ever told Colton to stop it?

Oh, for fucks sake, she moaned.

Juliet had bought The Dog (thought of it like that, tooas The Dog) at a PetSmart in Spanish Fort. She had wanted the Heinz 57 because shed grown tired of going to bed by herself on the evenings when Colton worked late. It still boggled her mind. All those extra hours and not one slip up. Colton truly had been at work. His paychecks verified his time away from the house, and Juliet had no reason to broach the possibility of him playing around. The Dog hassled and hindered more than it offered companionship, and tore the house to shreds every time she left it alone for longer than two shakes of its fluffy little tail.

When Colton had brought up the idea of Juliet accompanying him on his trips out of town instead of staying home with The Dog, shed jumped at the chance. Boarding The Dog proved troublesome. The Dog had anxiety issues, and covered the back seat in vomit, urine, and feces during simple trips to the corner store. Trips to the kennel, which was over ten miles away, were most definitely not going to happen without the need of professional interior car care. Colton refused to buy The Dog Zoloft or Valium, so Juliet hired a dog sitter for those times when theyd be gone for extended periods.

It was only supposed to be the one time, after which theyd give The Dog to a proper shelter and be done with the whole mess. But Colton changed his mind when they got back, insisting that it would be cruel, that a shelter would no doubt put The Dog to sleep within a weeks time and then he and Juliet would both have some poor animals blood on their hands. At least thats what Colton had told her. Truth was, he didnt want to lose Vicky.

And to think, if Colton had simply offered Juliet the chance to go with him on work trips in the first place, shed never have asked for the dog and Colton wouldnt have been caught with his cock in the cookie jar.

The Dog had been boarded for the trip to her mothers. The Subaru still smelled of canine evacuations.

Macklemore came over the radio, singing Same Love. She reached down and spun the volume higher. The song took her away from that gas station, away from that state, that world. She floated behind her eyes, riding waves of bass drums and trumpets, legato lyrics and melodic piano. Juliet melted into her seat, and was numb. Not happy, simply fluid, for the first time in weeks. Months. Ever. Shed felt so much so long ago that everything else since then seemed dumbed down and unreal. She was crying. She didnt care. Needed the release. Her heart felt heavy, liquid, pumping in time with the music.

Their wedding day flickered across the screen of her mind. Her twirling in a pink dress, looking princess-like and carefree. Colton in his purple tux (shed fought hard for that one) spun his bride across the dance floor to the tune of Forever and Ever, Amen. Their family and friends would say later that she seemed to float, that she was an angel, that shed never looked so radiant and brilliant; her eyes had been full up with fireworks, perpetually exploding. Colton had been so handsome, a manicured five oclock shadow darkening his chiseled face. The flat slope of his Stonehenge nose had been transformed; that one, subtle ugliness she had once cringed over was now a quality unique to him. Juliets mother had a horrible wine-colored birthmark that stretched from left cheek to collarbone, and Juliet used to wonder how Mom had ever snagged Dad. Now she knew. It was time. It was love. Both things combined created a bubble, a funhouse mirror effect, but instead of warping beauty, it hid blights, highlighted the good, elevated the positive. His schnoz disappeared for a while. Now it was back, and she hated Colton for allowing its return.