Chapter 14 – August 18, 1993 – Camille
Needless to say, I still believed my theory was correct.
And the bombshell realization that I was unknowingly pregnant for eight to nine weeks, only to be punched by an angry meth head, was a blessing in disguise.
I’m not too sure what we could’ve done if my druggie Jesus hadn’t appeared at the right moment.
I cringe thinking of what my options would’ve been.
Thankfully, I survived without having to be seen by a doctor.
The thoughts in my brain throughout the whole process were mostly about what I would do if things went terribly.
Use a fake alias to go to the nearest hospital?
Leave before they needed to identify me?
I was always under the impression that if you go to the hospital for an emergency, you don’t need to provide any details about who you are.
However, I was not about to find out how true that was, given my situation and life on the run.
The morning after, I woke up to a box of heavy-duty menstrual pads, a bottle of Motrin, and Erich’s sock filled with rice.
The remainder of the cheap gas station rice was in the box, sitting next to the TV, the cardboard top ripped open.
The sock and uncooked rice confused me greatly, and my miscarriage fairy godmother was in the shower while I tried to decipher their meaning.
It was a makeshift heating pad. Throw it in the microwave, and you’re set for about a half hour.
I laughed until I cried watching Erich take his own sock and nuke it in the stained, end-of-life contraption the motel claimed to be a microwave.
And it got worse. I couldn’t breathe when I watched the strategy planning in his head as he realized he hadn’t thought through his knightly gesture before finally sticking the sock’s pair in his jean pocket and slipping his boots on his bare feet.
I took three weeks off from our shenanigans to rest and bleed in peace, plus monitor myself to ensure I passed everything.
More sheer luck, and I came out unscathed.
We decided to go West for a while rather than continue North and East. So, I watched a lot of “Full House” from Pennsylvania to Ohio, through the farmlands of the Midwest, past the mountains in the Rockies…
A long, boring journey for me, riddled with the anxiety of making sure I wasn’t dying in the process.
But Erich was making it work while funding my traumatic recovery.
After I fully recovered and knew my body was working the way it was made to, I wanted to go to California, arguing it was a big state and I’d never been there before.
We were so close, driving through Oregon.
Erich was stubborn and refused. His compromise was the southernmost part of Oregon, and I could step outside the car to “see the border.”
I didn’t have much room to stand convincing Erich to take me to the Golden State, so Merrit, Oregon, it was.
It was a normal night until I noticed Erich was drinking much more and much faster than usual.
He was starting to fall victim to his own scams, missing the cue ball on purpose the first time, and then by accident the second time.
He had become the person he hoped to run into, beaten by sober bar-goers taking advantage of his bets.
I had to give up on feeding shots to the dairy farmer who promised me $20 for a cab home and a warm dinner when I grabbed him by his shirt collar at only 8:30 at night to leave before we lost money on his vulnerability. A gamble that had gone too far.
I was kicking myself for not convincing Erich to teach me how to drive within the last few months we had been on the road together.
I had plenty of time, and it would have saved me a lot of agonizing boredom to practice driving in the parking lot during my scam hiatus.
I was forced to get into the passenger seat of the car, leaving my intoxicated companion to drive.
I was worried about him. He was usually more careful. I also couldn’t help but be worried for myself. Dying in a car accident with a drunk driver wasn’t exactly how I had pictured my final moments.
Erich buckled his seatbelt before adjusting the rearview mirror, his eyes slowly drifting to the side to check my reaction before he made a comment. I was glaring holes into his achingly roguish face, causing his crooked smile to grow.
“You’re a fucking killjoy, you know that?” he asked, turning the key to start the car before acknowledging my unsatisfied aura.
“Drive. Do it slow. One wrong move and I’ll figure it out on my own.” My voice came out cold, impatient with his attempt at games.
“Easy, Bambi.” His satisfaction with the fact that he was getting under my skin caused the heat of anger to take refuge in my already warm face. His foot moved to the brake as he put the car in reverse, backing up before shifting gears to drive and pull out of the parking lot.
I could smell the whiskey permeating through his jacket. The only comforting thought with the sickening, sharp alcoholic smell was how I could smash his face in when we got back to the room. If we got back to the room.
“I’m kidding,” he finally said after we had been on the road for about a minute in silence. “I’m not sure what I’d do without you.” He murmured the last part dreamily from behind the wheel, nearly crossing the centerline as we drove down the road to our hotel.
I was staring daggers at him as the terror of his impaired driving engulfed my senses.
He corrected himself with a small smirk and a comment under his breath, nearly missing the turn for where we were staying that night.
“I promise, I’m not drunk. I barely drank.
See? Ask me anything. I can’t sing the ABC’s backwards, though. I’m not sure I know anyone who can…”
I didn’t believe him, though I had never seen him drunk before. Maybe a little under the influence, but never to the point of it being obvious. “Alright. Keep your eyes on the road and stop zig-zagging, then maybe I’ll believe you.”
When we got to the hotel alive, Erich turned the car off.
We both got out, and he nearly tripped on his own feet as he exited the driver’s side.
I rushed over to lead him inside, sneaking under his arm to put it over my shoulder to keep him from falling on his face.
He brushed me away, snorting and patting my head as he went ahead of me and grabbed the door for me.
We were lucky our room wasn’t far away, plus on the first floor. The last thing I needed was him falling to the ground, knowing I couldn’t lift him back up on my own. He again insisted he was fine, but his hand trailing on the floral wallpapered wall told a different story.
When we finally got there and I unlocked the door, he went straight for the bed and fell backwards to stare up at the ceiling.
After a few seconds, he lifted his head up, a look of confusion and fake offense at why I didn’t join him.
He had a goofy grin as he made room for me, and I imitated his graceful act of falling on my back on the bed next to him.
My hair instantly splayed out in all directions as the bed absorbed my impact.
I was still annoyed with his irresponsibility, but we were safe. That was enough reason to forgive him for now and give in to the fun part of Erich’s out-of-character actions.
“Thanks for being my partner in crime.” Erich’s hair was tousled, his clothes wrinkled from the night as he held up his fingers to make a finger gun, winking at me.
I fought back a giggle, the butterflies in my stomach awakening from the unexpected fondness. “It’s my pleasure, cowboy.”
Erich’s eyes didn’t move from my face for a long time.
His dilated pupils took up a lot of the light blue I grew used to seeing.
As he rested his eyes on my face, I watched the right side of his lip twitch as he lost himself deep in thought.
Before I could ask what was on his mind, he spoke up.
“You’re just… so much better than Olivia was when it comes to this kind of stuff. ”
Who was Olivia? Between the months of May through August, I never heard her name. “Who’s that, Erich?”
Erich’s blue eyes dulled in the artificial lighting of our hotel’s bedside lamp, and he stared blankly, almost through me, before turning his head to stare at the water-damaged ceiling.
As if the thought slipped through his lips before his brain could stop him, he realized he mentioned her name.
“A girl,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat and spoke a bit louder.
I watched both hands go over his eyes and into his hair. “I think I loved her.”
I was shocked to hear this for the first time, but curiosity was getting the better of me, even if it wasn’t exactly a “pour your heart out” moment. I gently sucked in my lips. “Is she the one you traveled with before me? The one you mentioned when we met?”
Erich nodded slowly. He blinked once as his eyes traced patterns in the ceiling, then he kicked off his brown boots mindlessly. They hit the stained carpet floor with a soft thud. “I never told you her name.”
I propped myself up with one arm to face him. “Do you want to talk about her?”
Erich’s lips twitched as he collected the words scrambled in his head in order to form sentences.
Once he was able to string them together, he finally spoke.
“We did and saw a lot of horrible things together… Her mom trusted me and loved me like her own son. I spent some time with them after I couldn’t get my brother back. ”
I didn’t know he had a brother, either. He never mentioned his brother, and I wondered if he would tell me more about him. I didn’t want to take advantage of his drunken state, but at the same time…
“You have a brother?” I asked softly.