EDGES Page 11

  Once it was over, she quickly pulled her tights up and he his shorts. They stood there, still pressed against the wall, fresh sweat atop their skin, with him hunched over on her, puffing breaths.

  There was a hard knock at the Plexiglas. The girl from the front desk stood there looking disturbed, but not irate. They looked like they were cuddling and fooling around, but luckily their clothes were all the way back on. The girl held out her thumb and yanked it toward the front, signaling for them to get out. Then she was gone.

  He twisted Simone around to face him. They kissed again, now like affectionate lovers. Almost eerily like girlfriend and boyfriend, Simone thought. When her heart finally calmed down, the gravity of the moment snapped back on her—hard. She was suddenly chilled, frightened at her actions.

  She shoved him away and ran out of the court with Patrick calling after her. She went flying past the desk, out into the night where the stars were milky and dripping white in the black mountain sky.

  Simone raced all the way to her car. When she got in, she gripped down on the steering wheel, stared out the windshield, and then screamed.

  Josh

  JOSH PUSHED OPEN THE FRONT double doors of the La Plata County Jail, trailed by his mother and their family’s long time attorney, Jim Wiltz. He had to lift his hand to block the glaring sunlight that stabbed into his eyes.

  Josh had spent the vast majority of the last four days in a cell without windows or even bars. It was just a holding tank cell, all concrete with a toilet and a heavy steel door. The guards had given him a light blanket that had the feel of a giant napkin, and a thin pillow. He’d had to constantly roll while he slept to keep the concrete bed from giving him sores on his body. The discomfort had become nearly unbearable after the second day.

  It had given Josh time to think, to sit and really think. He’d done a lot of push-ups when he wasn’t contemplating things. He’d fought off the urge to cry a dozen times, but mostly he’d spent time clearing his head in that cell.

  Josh had already spoken at length with his attorney about what the process would be going forward, and none of what was discussed made Josh feel any more comforted. They reached the head of the parking lot, and the two men shook hands. Josh winced and pulled his hand away; his knuckles were still skinned raw and he guessed a few small bones in the middle of his swollen hand were broken. He’d been laughed at when he’d asked one of the guards for an ice pack.

  Jim Wiltz and his mother remained behind to talk over a few things while Josh drifted deeper into the parking lot. There was a long line of white Ford police cruisers parked tail end in. Josh breathed in the fresh air. He felt swept up in all the open space. He looked at the sky for a bit, and at the surrounding mountains of the valley. All the snow had melted off the hog’s back.

  He started heading for his mother’s car parked at the back of the lot when he recognized Patrick’s van. Patrick was there, leaned up against the passenger side door, looking amused by something on his phone.

  Josh’s mother strolled up beside him. “What’s Patrick doing here?” There was a pleasant ring in her voice, and Josh knew she adored Patrick. He was like a second son to her.

  Patrick tucked his phone away and walked over to them, smiling the whole way. His hair was styled down today, and he had large black tinted aviators covering his eyes. A few feet from them, he stopped and looped his thumbs in his belt loops, and his legs started to jitter.

  “The warden threw a party in the county jail…”

  Josh’s mother burst into laughter, it was the first time since she’d come to the jail that Josh had seen her smile.

  Patrick stopped, laughing at his own silliness, and gave her a big hug. “Hi, Janet!”

  “Patrick,” she said. “How did you know to be here?”

  “I called the house and talked to Maddie, I can’t believe she’s sixteen already? Anyway, she told me when Josh was getting out. I guess things ran a little bit long. But I figured you were probably driving back to Denver today, so I figured I’d take Joshie home so you could get going, if you needed to.”

  “Such a good friend,” she said, charmed.

  Josh and Patrick shared a look. It felt good to see his buddy.

  Though he deserved all of his mother’s worry—she was a notorious worrier—Josh didn’t think he could handle one more lecture about life from her.

  His mother turned to him and lifted her wrist to check the time from the thin gold watch she nervously fiddled with dozens of times in the last few hours. “I would like to get on the road so I’m not driving the whole way in the dark.”

  Josh nodded. “It’s fine. Patrick will take me home.”

  She hugged Josh and told him she loved him. He hugged her back. It took all he had to hold back tears. He felt scared all the way through to his bones. When he’d beaten George to a pulp he’d never once thought that he may actually end up doing a good amount of time as a result, but that was now a very real possibility. The thought of prison… it made him sick. When he pulled away from her his hands began to tremble, bad enough that he had to dig them into his pockets. He wouldn’t last in prison.

  “I’ll be back in two weeks, remember.”

  “Okay,” he nodded. She kissed Josh on the cheek, then hugged Patrick, and finally walked away to her vehicle.

  Patrick and Josh got into the van and started back to the house.

  “Get any jailhouse tats while you were in there?” Patrick asked as he turned onto the street.

  “Not funny,” Josh replied, and stared out the window while they drove the short five blocks back to their house.

  “Sorry. A few days in jail though, at least you’re out now. It’s over.”

  “For now,” Josh said flatly. “The lawyer says I could be facing up to three years.”

  “What?” Patrick bent over the wheel and gazed wide-eyed at him.

  “Assault.” Josh nodded gravely. “Fuckin’ unreal.”

  “Prison?” Patrick gasped. “Did you tell them he was macking on your girl?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly the line of reasoning my lawyer used. ‘He was macking on my girl so of course’, besides, she’s not my girl. She’s nothing to me, not anymore.”

  Patrick didn’t pry about that. “So what, you have a trial or something?”

  “Not yet. Apparently he hasn’t decided whether or not to press charges.”

  “George?”

  Josh nodded. Just hearing George’s name said aloud gave him chills.

  “That’s good,” Patrick said. “Maybe he realizes he was in the wrong.”

  “I was wrong. You know it. Please, just enough already.”

  Patrick shut up.

  “I need to go see him,” Josh said as they were just two blocks from home.

  “Who, George?”

  “Yes, George.”

  “Are you crazy? You could get arrested again.”

  “I need to apologize.”

  “Honestly buddy, I don’t think he wants to see you.”

  Josh shrugged. “I have to try.”

  “Well, realize then that you probably don’t want to see him. He looks like the Hamburglar. It’s disgusting. His face reminds me of a charred steak or something.”

  They pulled up to the house. When they got out Josh went straight to his car. Since the night he came into the police station, they’d taken his keys, but they were given back when he was discharged.

  “You’re seriously going over there?” Patrick circled the van and made a motion for them both to go inside.

  Josh got in without responding.

  “You want me to go with you at least? In case something happens.”

  Josh shut the door and put the keys in the ignition.

  ***

  Josh drove the whole way with the windows down. He turned right off of Eighth onto Third Avenue heading north, through the row of historic Victorian houses on one of Durango’s most beautiful streets.

  The Colorado air was pleasantly crisp. Garde
ns were in first bloom, and he caught a whiff of their scent freshly coming to life as he passed. The lawns, fenced in with black iron, were all rich green in the sun. It was the smell of spring, and Josh couldn’t help but almost be moved to tears of relief by how it contrasted so poignantly against the faint, dull smell of concrete that had he’d breathed for days in his cell. It left Josh feeling a sense of good fortune as he came near the river and turned east.

  What might he say to George to make things right again? Assuming George would actually take the time to talk with him. The closer he got, the more his pulse quickened and tightness stretched across his chest.

  He wondered if Patrick was right, that this was a bad idea. Was there anything he could say to George to make him not press charges? Anything at all?

  All the trees on either side of the road fluttered with bright green leaves. A moment struck him where he would’ve done or given anything to take back what he’d done.

  When Josh pulled into the apartment complex and parked, he could barely breathe through the overwhelming anxiety. He closed his eyes and leaned over the wheel, taking slow breaths, trying to calm himself down. When his eyes came open, he instinctively looked to Simone and Tiffany’s door a few units over.

  How had he let a girl do this to him? Drive him to be so violent?

  He felt ashamed and embarrassed. The man that night hadn’t been the real Josh Norris. No, Josh saw himself as a good person, a genuinely caring guy. Not someone who had possibly disfigured another person for the rest of his life. He pulled his eyes away from Simone’s door, scorned.

  Josh got out of the car and eased up the walkway to George’s door. Unit E. He stood still as figurine without knocking. The beige paint on the door was chipped in spots around the knob, and splintering off into small patches of cracks everywhere else. Without lifting his fist to knock, the door swung inward and Simone came out and nearly stumbled right into Josh.

  She let out a shriek; they were both startled, and Josh lunged back a few steps.

  “Hey,” he said in a low, calm voice.

  “Hey,” she responded.

  He pointed around her into the doorway. “I’m here to see George.”

  It was unintentional that he’d pointed with his right hand, but she couldn’t help but look at the exposed cuts on his knuckles and the fatness of his swollen hand.

  Simone didn’t move aside and looked unsure of whether to let him past or not.

  “I came to apologize, that’s all.”

  She waited a moment and then finally seemed to realize he didn’t mean that he’d come to apologize to her as well as George. She whipped her black hair over her shoulder in an unimpressed fashion and stepped aside so that Josh could move to the door.

  Josh hardly wasted a moment after she moved out of the way. He peered in, but didn’t go further than the doorway.

  His eyes found George at the back of the narrow apartment. The living room was darkened with the blinds drawn, but there George was bundled up in a heap of blankets on the couch. There was a movie playing. After a half a minute Josh recognized the dialogue. George was watching The Notebook in the dark, underneath heavy blankets.

  Josh glanced back at Simone, who had moved a few paces down the walkway but was still lingering. Her expression was half protective, which he understood, and half blasé toward him, which was shocking to Josh considering what he’d been through in the last several days.

  “Watching The Notebook?” he said to her.

  Guilt flashed across her face for a split second and then the steeliness returned and she shrugged.

  Josh’s gaze returned to the interior of the apartment at George throwing the blankets aside and getting up off the couch. It was hard to see his features as he came forward to the door, but once he got close enough for the sunlight to glance against his skin, Josh saw what had become of his face and his stomach curdled. Patrick hadn’t been overstating how bad it looked. If anything, he’d understated it.

  George noticed Josh cringe, and spoke in a hard voice. “Hard to look at, aren’t I?”

  Josh tried not to focus on it, but made sure not to look away. “I was hoping you’d give me just five minutes to talk.”

  “What’s there to talk about? You jumped me. I could’ve died.”

  Josh nodded solemnly while further examining George’s face. Most the damage was exclusive to the left side—the spot where Josh’s right hand connected he didn’t know how many times. George’s eyebrow still had a row of stitches holding it closed. A faint yellow pus was pooled in it. From the middle of his forehead all the way down onto the center of his cheek were varying shades of purple and blackened skin. The worst swelling was on his lower eyelid, which had ballooned like a bullfrog’s throat. What disturbed Josh the most was George’s eyeball. The entire white of his eye was a dark, awful red, especially right around the iris where there was a rubicund ring that seemed to pulse.

  “I did jump you, and I’m very sorry, George. If we could just talk.”

  George looked past him to Simone, like he wanted her opinion. She didn’t say anything, seemed neutral either way, and Josh was somewhat thankful for that. George hitched his head toward the doorway, signaling Josh to come inside. Josh made a point not to look back at Simone as he went in. And he felt her eyes on his back, even as the door closed behind him.

  George flicked on some lights and opened the blinds in the living room a smidgen. “I’m not a recluse,” he told Josh, excusing the dirty plates and cups scattered all around. “It’s just a light sensitivity in the eye. Doctor wants me to wear an eye patch whenever I leave the house. At least for another week or so.”

  “That’s kinda cool,” Josh tried joking as he hovered near a recliner adjacent to the couch. He was surprised at how George was treating him so far. The fact that they were alone inside his apartment was altogether a shock.

  “You can sit,” George told him.

  Josh did. “You have nice furniture.”

  George sat back down on the couch, tossed the blankets to the far right side. “I was making good money back home. Now I’m broke, ugly, and watching romance movies for most of the day, every day.”

  Josh gestured at George’s eye. “You’ll be able to see okay, right? Long term, I mean.”

  “I should be fine. It’s the bruising that may not go away for a while.” He paused. “Feeling guilty?”

  Josh nodded. “Aren’t you angry with me?”

  “Of course.”

  Josh started into a stutter and then the words tumbled out in a rush. “That . . . that wasn’t me. I was wasted and did a stupid, stupid thing. I’m sorry, man. Really. If you want to get some shots in on me, I’m all for letting you. Fair’s fair.”

  George shook his head and laughed. “I’m snuggled up with blankets, watching The Notebook. Does that sound like a guy who gets payback?”

  Josh laughed dryly. “I just, uh, I just hope you won’t go forward with the charges. I don’t know how else to say it.”

  George looked away, down at a pipe sitting on the coffee table, its bowl loaded with marijuana. George pulled a lighter from his pocket, steadied the pipe against his lips, and hit it. He blew out a thick plume of weed smoke and it spiraled and shifted in the few sun rays that squeezed through the blinds.

  “I’m not going to do anything,” he admitted at last.

  “Really?” Josh wanted to interlock his hands and shout a thankful prayer.

  “It’s partly my fault you hit me.”

  “What? How do you mean?”

  George shook his head. “I was so drunk. I shouldn’t have been all over Simone like that. She told me, after the fact, how you bought wine and poured your heart out to her and all that. I feel like an ass for doing that to you after she kind of pushed you away.”

  Josh agreed. “Do you like her?” he asked, the smell of marijuana rich in the room now.

  George laughed hard. “Do I like her? We’ve known each other for six years and I’ve been in love with
her every day of those six years.” He looked hard at Josh. “Don’t repeat that to anyone.”

  “Of course,” Josh replied. “So how is it partly your fault? You have a right to go after her. She’s not my girlfriend. I mean, she obviously already told you that she didn’t want to be.”

  “The friend zone. I’m too deep to ever crawl out. I know it. She knows it.”

  Josh was confused. It must have showed, because George said, “Listen, I’m going to forgive you.”

  “Thank you—”

  “But only if you do something for me.”

  The peculiar way that George was regarding him, Josh thought he was about to be propositioned somehow.

  “I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell Simone I told you, Tiffany either.”

  “Fine, I can do that.”

  “I want you to promise.”

  Josh tried not to look into his putrid eye. “I swear I won’t tell them.” His interest was piqued.

  “I’m doing this because we are similar in a way. Simone has this effect on guys. She’s like a squid on their brain. She wraps herself around one tentacle at a time, acting coy and innocent about everything, slowly suctioning herself onto them, and then soon she’s eating them, eating them while they’re alive. She could’ve eaten me, and even though I would do anything for her, I’m lucky in a way that I couldn’t get her. You’re different, for one reason or another. Probably because you’re Patrick’s friend.”

  It was a small slight, but Josh took it without saying a word.

  “She has you wrapped up though, and she’s pulling you in, taking little bites along the way. I can sympathize with you on that. I get why you went crazy on me.”