Chapter 13 Ruth
Ruth
“Iam never letting you win dominoes again.” Rolling my eyes, I look down at myself and shake my head. I look like a fucking clown who’s been rejected from the circus.
Martha waves me off casually. There is nothing casual about this.
“I can feel your eyes rolling from over here.” Her cheerful tone only irritates me further.
“Hush, I saw a bus go down this way. Now put some pep in that step and hustle.” This bitch makes me put on a pink tulle tutu at nine o’clock at night, over my bedtime attire, then demands a trip for late night ice cream.
But that’s not all, oh no, our tire popped halfway into town, and finding a wholesome lad to pull over, while looking like this, hasn’t been easy.
So, we started walking. Because ‘staying in the car on the side of the road is even more dangerous, have you never seen a horror film?’
Shame on me for such foolish thoughts.
And now she wants me to hustle so we can follow a bus she saw turn off down this dark gravel road. “Are you high?” I shout back, genuinely concerned for my wife. Because if she’s not, then she has certifiably lost her damn mind.
Loose gravel cracks under my black leather loafers as I follow my Martha, who is just as inappropriately dressed as me for this adventure.
Besides the tutu, I have my long silk navy-and-cream striped pajama pants with matching button-up short sleeves.
And sweet Martha, my wife, the love of my life, is wearing a mint green cotton nightdress, with buttons from her perky tits all the way down to where the hem rests at her knees.
With exposed legs, she couldn’t even get us a lift hitchhiking, which is truly devastating.
And adorning her unique toes, because you’d have to see them to believe it, she is rocking a pair of slip-on white fuzzy slippers.
Stopping, my wife looks back at me. Her salt-and-pepper hair is in hot pink rollers, which are then covered and tied up under a silk mint green scarf.
My brow arches at her as I stroll toward her, waiting for her response.
And instead of answering my question, she breaks into hysterics.
“Why didn’t you leave the tutu in the car? ”
A low rumble rises from my chest. My fists clench tightly. It’s a perfectly valid question. Why didn’t I leave this thing in the car?
Martha laughs even harder upon seeing my reaction. Gripping the cheap material, I wiggle my hips, because they don’t lie, and start to shimmy out of the stupid thing.
“You will not litter. May as well keep it on now,” Martha commands, stamping her foot repeatedly as if she’s in the production of Stomp.
She always needs to bring the vibes to every occasion.
“Baby animals could get stuck and die in it if you leave it out here for the wind to take.” Her laughter has swiftly turned into a guilt trip I want no part of.
Pulling the tutu back up, I extend my arm out, inviting her to lead the way down the dark back county road, which, if she ever saw a horror movie, she would know is likely leading us to our untimely demise.
Skipping around, Martha’s cute little bottom wiggles in delight, bringing a smile to my face.
Out of sight, of course, because she can never know how okay I am with all of this; as long as I am with her, nothing else matters.
And the moaning and groaning I do about most things keeps her on her toes.
As we take off, owls hoot around us, tree branches brush against one another, and crickets chirp around us.
Faintly, down the long narrow road, at the end, a couple yellow lights burn.
And the red brake lights from the bus Martha swore she saw earlier vanish, causing me confusion.
Tall cement or stone pillars form an archway, and I may be old but these eyes are sharp.
Someone has to be between the two of us.
As I continue to analyze our surroundings, Martha’s sweet voice speaks up once more.
“I accidentally had two edibles before leaving the house. I forgot I took the first one, so I had another. Just as we got in the car, they both hit me like a sound wave and that’s when I knew, tonight’s going to be interesting. ”
Tiny giggles follow, and I immediately know from her response that we are in for one hell of a night.