-2-
Turley jolted awake when she heard the breaking glass next door. Vincent was up and standing at his window, looking out, watching as Katherine and her new man fought.
Turley got out of bed and joined him.
“Fuck you, you crazy bitch!”
“Go to hell, asshole!”
“If I go, I’m takin’ you with me!” the man called, heading for his truck.
Vincent and Turley watched as the man pulled out a shotgun from beneath the seat and began loading it.
“Shit,” Vincent said. Turley was already out the door.
Out on the Mason’s lawn, Katherine, the man, and now Turley, stood yelling. Vincent followed, clad in nothing more than blue jeans.
“Katherine!” Turley called, and the woman shot her a look before looking back to the man with the gun.
“Put the gun down!” Vincent yelled, moving toward the man, and the man pointed the gun at him.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m a friend of Turley’s, Katherine’s daughter. Now put the gun down. You don’t wanna do this…” Vincent said, inching toward the man.
The man glanced at Turley and then to Katherine.
“That true? You got a daughter?”
Katherine scoffed, raised her hand to dismiss the issue, “Ain’t seen her in years.”
Out of the blue, Vincent lunged forward and tackled the man, punched him in the face and then took away the shotgun. He stood up and unloaded it, and Katherine clapped her hands together and cackled. “You crazy sumbitch, Vinny! He almost shot you!”
Still laughing, Katherine staggered and then fell back onto her porch steps, managed to sit down.
Turley walked to Vincent and crossed her arms.
“He could’ve shot you.”
“He didn’t,” Vincent spat, his deep voice even deeper. He continued with the shotgun until he had taken it apart, and then he threw the barrel into the back of the truck, the stock into the front seat, and put the bullets in his pocket. Then he picked up Mister Wonderful by his shirt collar.
“You’re gonna get in your truck and drive outta here, and you’re not gonna come back, you got that?”
The man nodded, blood pouring from his nose, and Vincent opened the driver’s side door and shoved him into the driver’s seat. The man started the engine and sped out of the driveway, and Vincent took the bullets out of his pockets and slung them over the broken fence into the garbage pile next door.
He and Turley walked to Katherine, who was still laughing.
“When you get back?” she asked with a hiccup, and Turley sighed.
“This morning. I tried coming over but you weren’t home.”
Katherine shrugged, fumbled in her dress pocket for her fifth, took a swig, and then hiccupped again.
“When’re you gonna stop this shit?” Vincent asked. “We’re getting tired of this all hours of the night bullshit.”
Katherine blew a raspberry at Vincent. “Oh, go ta Hell, the both of ya!”
“C’mon,” Turley said finally, pulling Vincent’s arm. After a moment he shook his head, and he and Turley walked back to his house.
Mark held the door open for them.
[1]“ Todo estas bien aquí, Hijo?”
[2]“Si, Papa. Volves a la cama.”
Mark turned the porch light off and locked the door once Vincent and Turley were inside. He bid them both goodnight, and Vincent and Turley went back upstairs. Unable to sleep, Vincent turned the television on, grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it over his head.
He sighed. “She should be committed.”
Turley shrugged, and Vincent looked at her.
“The only reason my parents never called CPS on her is because they knew you’d be better taken care of here.” He shook his head in anger, let out a long breath. [3]“A veces me gustaría quebrarle como un palo.”
“What was that?”
Vincent sighed.
“Nothing.”
After a moment he patted his lap, motioning Turley over, and she went.
He put his arms around her, and she laid her head on his cool, broad chest.
“I’m sorry that you still have to deal with her shit.”
Turley shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
Vincent looked at her. “That’s just it, Turtle. You’ve become numb to it. Do you have any emotion toward her at all, other than indifference?”
Turley thought a moment and then looked up at him.
“Not really.”
“Then why do you bother?”
“Because she’s my mother.”
“No, she gave birth to you. There’s a big difference.”
Turley sighed, and Vincent hugged her.
“Let’s try to get some sleep,” he said and then picked her up. He carried her to the bed, gently lay her down and covered her up.
He turned the television off and climbed in bed beside her, kissed her forehead and again put his arm around her waist.
[4]“Buenas noches, Tortuga.”
“Buenas noches, Insa.”
~
Morning found Turley lying beside Vincent, her leg across his legs, his hand upon her thigh, his free arm around her.
Emma knocked on the door, waking them, “Good morning, [5]ninos! Breakfast is ready.”
Vincent yawned as Turley stretched and then sat up in bed. “Thank you.”
“We’ll be down in a bit, Mama.”
Emma Castraletti smiled and went back downstairs as Vincent kissed Turley on the cheek.
“Sleep good?”
Turley yawned. “Mm-hmm. Felt safe,” she said with a smile, and Vincent hugged her. “Good. Because you are.”
Vincent got out of bed and put on his shoes as Turley went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and put her clothes on.
After breakfast, the two headed back to the garage, where Turley got her car and followed Vincent back home. They then took the motorcycle back out to the garage so Vincent could finish working on the ‘63 Thunderbird.
Vincent turned the stereo on to Don Henley, cranked up the volume, took his shirt off, and got to work as Turley looked around the garage.
She noticed that all of the postcards she’d sent him over the years were pinned on a large bulletin board by his office; there must have been twenty or more.
Vincent slammed the hood shut on the Thunderbird as Henley’s All She Wants to Do is Dance began to play, and Turley began to dance around the garage. Vincent wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiled, and watched her as she danced, her hips keeping time with the beat of the music; she could light up any room—even a greasy garage—and Vincent was glad she was back, if only for a short time.
He wiped the interior of the car down, glancing every now and again to Turley, who kept dancing, and he smiled to himself.
When he’d finished with the car, he made a phone call to its owner, telling him that it was finished and he could pick it up anytime; the man said he’d be right over, so Vincent sat down on his toolbox and waited as Turley danced toward him.
She took his hands and pulled him to his feet, pulled him closer by his belt loops, and Vincent laughed, put his hands on her hips and began dancing with her.
When the song ended Turley laughed, and Vincent still held her. She stared at him, and when he leaned closer, someone cleared their throat, breaking the silence. Vincent turned around to see the owner of the car.
[6]“Hey, hombre. Ella todo se hace,” he said as he moved away from Turley. He got a set of keys from a pegboard in his office and tossed them to the man. [7]“ Del guardabarros en pedido en espera. Te llamaré cuando se trata.”
The man nodded, got in the driver’s seat and started the car and drove away, and Turley smiled.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
~
Turley put the top down and laughed, stepped on the gas, and Vincent shook his head as they sped out of the garage and down the road.
“You’re wild, Hermana!” Vincent laughed, and Turley smiled.
~
Vincent was giving her a pick-a-back ride through the field by the creek.
“What’s your best memory from childhood?” he asked, and Turley thought a moment.
“That time when we went to the beach and you let me bury you in the sand.”
Vincent smiled. He almost asked her what her worst memory was, but didn’t; he already knew, anyway.
“What’s yours?”
Vincent laughed. “The time I walked in on you in the shower.”
Turley squealed out and tightened her grip around his throat on purpose.
[8]“Bastardo!”
Vincent, choking from Turley’s grip, laughed heartily and then thought a moment. “No, no.” He paused. “I think my favorite memory is when you and I first found this place,” he said, putting Turley down and looking out in front of him to the tall grass. The dandelions were in full bloom and the smells of lilac and mint filled the air. Vincent put his hands on his hips and took it all in, sighing deeply.
“I think if there’s a Heaven that it’s close to this.”
Turley sat down and then lay back in the grass.
“I think Heaven is having copious amounts of butter pecan ice cream and not gaining any weight.”
Vincent laughed and joined her in the grass. He turned on his side to face her.
[9]“ He le nunca dicho cómo bonita estás, Tortuga?”
“No, Insa, you haven’t told me how pretty I am.”
Vincent’s jaw dropped and Turley laughed. “Did I fail to mention that I took Spanish classes?”
Vincent laughed and nodded, “Yes, you did fail to mention that.”
“Well, [10]gracias, Insa.”
[11]“De nada.”
The two were quiet as a soft breeze began to blow. Out of nowhere, storm clouds gathered and it began to rain. Turley and Vincent ran back to the car. Soaked by the time they got there, and laughing so hard they could barely breathe, Turley quickly put the top up on the car and rolled the windows up. Within minutes the windows steamed over, and Vincent leaned across Turley and drew a large heart on her window. Turley stared at him, and, after a moment, climbed onto his lap and began to write on his window as well. Vincent smiled when he saw that she’d written “I,” drawn a heart, and then written “you, too.” Without saying anything, Vincent cupped Turley’s face and kissed her gently.
“What are we doing, Insa?” Turley asked after a moment, and Vincent shook his head, “I don’t know, Tortuga, but it feels nice.”
Turley nodded and kissed him again.
~
By the time they got back home the storm had become more fierce, thunder pounding and lightning striking, and they ran inside, getting soaked again as they did so.
[12]“Sustantivo prisa femenino, sustantivo prisa femenino!” Emma said, handing the two of them towels, [13]“ Seque antes de detectar sus muertes!”
Vincent and Turley took the towels and began drying off when Mark joined them in the hallway.
[14]“¿Dónde estuvo, Vincente? Usted se supone que en el garaje hoy.”
[15]“ Terminé el coche, no se preocupe. Tortuga y me tomó una unidad el pasado la quebrada, eso es todo.”
“Si, si,” Mark said with a nod, and he picked up the newspaper off the stand by the door and retreated to the living room.
“Dinner is ready,” Emma said, taking the wet towels, “wash up and come and eat.”
Vincent kissed his mother on the cheek and he and Turley went upstairs to wash their hands for dinner.
Midway through the meal, they heard commotion from next door again.
Vincent sipped his milk, glancing from Turley to his father and mother, and then he wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin down.
[16]“ Estoy cansada de este mierda,” he said as he stood up, and Mark looked at him.
[17]“Siéntese, Vicente! No es su lugar!”
“Papa!”
“Sit down, Vincent,” Emma repeated, and Vincent did as told. They finished their meal in silence until the noise got louder, and then Mark walked into the living room, turned the television on and turned the sound up loud.
“There,” he said finally as he sat back down. “That’s better.”
Vincent looked at his father and shook his head. [18]“Nos hemos puesto con este absurdo para sucediendo treinta y seis años, papá. Basta.” He sighed. [19]“Simplemente llamar a la policía, ya, antes de que alguien obtiene muerto.”
A door slamming, more cursing, and Mark pounded his fist on the table. “No!” he said finally, and Vincent stood up from the table. He took Turley by the hand, and without saying anything, the two went upstairs.
Vincent slammed his door, put his hands on his hips.
“Estupido, estupido!” he mumbled. “Someone’s going to get killed before it’s over with.”
Turley shrugged, “At least then it would be quiet.”
Vincent looked at her, took her in his arms. “She’s made you cold, Tortuga.”
“Not cold. Just…indifferent, like you said.” She sighed. “It’s not like I love her.”
“But you should. A person should love their mother. They shouldn’t fear their own parent!”
Vincent shook his head and sighed, walked to the window and looked out. He saw the porch light at the Mason house go out, and a door slammed a final time.
“Thank Jesus,” he said after a moment. “Maybe they’ll quiet down for the night.”
Turley sat down on Vincent’s bed and yawned. “That’d be nice, for a change.”
Vincent scoffed. “Tell me about it. What time you were away…” he shook his head, “…it got pretty bad at times, Turley. Katherine has been to the hospital several times already.”
“Well that’s what you get when you screw anything that walks and expect there to be no strings attached,” Turley said, her voice emotionless, and Vincent looked at her.
After a long while he sat down on the bed beside her.
“Is that why you’ve never had a boyfriend? Because of the way Katherine uses men?”
Turley put her head down. “You know how people would treat me in school, the horrible things they’d say to me because of her.” She paused. “Guys always thought I was easy, just like her, so I tried to just avoid males at all costs. Besides,” she added, “you’re a boy. Well, a man…and you’re my friend.” Turley smiled. “Boy. Friend.”
Vincent smiled and kissed her on the cheek.
“Aye, [20]caramba!” he said with a smile, and Turley lay on her stomach on the bed, a pillow propped beneath her chin. Vincent lay sideways beside her.
“So you wouldn’t have turned me down for a date then? Huh. Now I wished I would have asked.”
Turley smiled.
“What’s your idea of a romantic evening…for a first date, I mean?”
“Well…dinner, maybe. A walk on the beach at night, when the sky is clear and the stars are out and there’s a soft breeze blowing…” Turley sighed. “That would be heaven, right about now.”
Vincent thought a moment, and his eyes brightened. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and then he was out the door.
He came back a few minutes later carrying a large box, and told Turley to close her eyes. She did as told, and when Vincent told her to open them, she saw a large telescope pointed out the window, up toward the sky. She laughed.
“Can’t do anything about the sand or the waves,” Vincent said. “Unless you wanna go get in the bathtub with me.”
Turley giggled and then stood up, walked over to the telescope. She looked inside and saw the stars, and Vincent explained the constellations to her.
“This is a nice scope. Where’d you get it?”
“Dad bought it for me for Christmas one year.” Vincent cleared his throat. “I used to use it to spy on you.”
Turley laughed but stopped when she realized that he was serious; at ten, he loved her. At thirty-six, he loved her still.
Turley touched his face.
“Why couldn’t you have been this sweet when we were kids?”
Vincent laughed. “Okay, first of all, if you think that being spied on is sweet, then you’re definitely twisted. Secondly, I didn’t know how to act around you as a kid. And puberty was hell, let me tell you…”
Turley laughed.
“I’d get so nervous around you that my palms would sweat and I’d feel queasy…” His brows furrowed, “I loathed Katherine for hurting you, and I wanted nothing more than to be big and strong to protect you from her, from anyone who’d hurt you.”
“Well, you’re definitely big and strong now,” Turley said of Vincent’s stellar physique, and he chuckled.
“You always said that guys with muscles turned you off, though.”
Turley shrugged. “Not on you, they don’t.”
Vincent leaned closer to her. “That’s good to know,” he whispered before kissing her.
Turley put her arms around Vincent’s neck and returned the kiss, and then they heard Katherine scream.
[1] Everything okay out here, Son?
[2] Yes, Dad. Go back to bed.
[3] Sometimes I’d like to break her like a twig.
[4] Goodnight
[5] children
[6] Hey, man. She’s all done.
[7] The fender’s on back order. I’ll call you when it comes in.
[8] Bastard!
[9] Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Turtle?
[10] thank you
[11] You’re welcome.
[12] Hurry, hurry!
[13] Dry off before you catch your deaths!
[14] Where have you been, Vincent? You were supposed to be at the garage today.
[15] I finished the car, don’t worry. Turtle and I took a drive down past the creek, that’s all.
[16] I’m sick of this shit
[17] Sit down, Vincent! It’s not your place!
[18] We’ve put up with this nonsense for going on thirty-six years, Papa. Enough is enough.
[19] Just call the police, already, before someone gets killed.
[20] Good Heavens!
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