Standing on a Corner
The sun descended in a messy splotch of orange. Twice, I asked Jonny to take the wheel.
You’re such a princess, he replied.
When I glanced over at him, he was hunched in his seat, staring out the passenger window. The spiky brown hair on the back of his head looked as optimistic as usual, but his posture told a different story.
I stomped on the gas, and we sped down Route 66, the tires crunching occasionally. Snakes or turtles, maybe? Whatever the critters were, I blessed them, ignoring Jonny’s disparaging grunts as we continued to rocket along. To either side of the highway, ghostly ranks of saguaro saluted the moon.
Only after my drooping eyelids nearly landed us in a ditch, did Jonny agree to stop. I exited at the next town, and we climbed out of the van, stretching our cramped limbs until our joints popped. We settled ourselves on a park bench. Covered by his old jacket and lulled by the coyotes’ lullabies, we drifted off to sleep.
When I woke, the sky was deep blue, rays of sunshine scribbling through it in gorgeous streaks. Jonny and the van were gone.
Of course he left you, Mama would have said. In my imagination, she always sounded smug and disapproving.
In real life, she’d been much worse. Thank God I’d escaped.
I burrowed into his jacket, inhaling Jonny’s familiar sage and lavender smell. With my third deep breath, I managed to block out Mama’s voice and the sun’s glare.
Now all I could think about were the results of my latest pee test.
The air cooled suddenly, and I yanked the fabric away. An old guy wearing a Make America Great Again hat stood there, obstructing the sun and holding a couple of steaming take-out cups.
Y’all alright?
Fine, thanks. My voice rasped. I cleared my throat.
His leathered face creased into a smile. Care for a coffee?
It was creamy heaven on my tongue. I swallowed and tried not to think what caffeine might do to the little lima bean growing inside me.
Now, ain’t that better? The man winked and sat down beside me. In profile, his eyebrows jutted like awnings.
I sensed no threat, but wished with all my heart that Jonny were here, too. For so many months, he’d loved me. He’d treated me with awe and tenderness, as if I’d been the last rose on earth. Only recently had he changed. Nothing I’d said or done had helped.
The old guy pointed at a statue across from where we sat. It was a life-sized statue of a man, white doves perched on its metal head.
Real touristy, huh? He waggled his chin at the mural on the wall behind it. It showed a girl driving a truck.
I wasn’t in the mood for sightseeing. Mister, got a phone?
Maybe America was getting great again—he reached into a pocket and handed one over. It was dusty and the screen was cracked, but the battery was charged. My own phone had died a while ago, probably at around the same time as Jonny’s love.
I smiled at the man, as I punched in some numbers. Then I held tight and listened to multiple rings, feeling the blood drain from my knuckles.
Finally, Yeah? Jonny—hostile with suspicion.
I tried not to shrill. Where are you?
He breathed into the phone. There was a whoosh of pavement under tires.
But all he said was, Moving on.
After that, nothing but dead air.
The man held his hand out for his phone. From somewhere, I heard music—something Mama used to sing, on the rare days she was feeling okay.
I began to weep. He patted my shoulder.
Take it easy, he said eventually, and left.
Strings of tourists trailed across the ground, taking selfies in front of the statue and the mural. I wiped my eyes with Jonny’s jacket before pitching it into a garbage receptacle. Then I picked up my cloth bag and walked away. I’d already found one friendly face; I’d find more, or a government agency, or a shelter.
My boyfriend had deserted me; my mama had washed her hands of me. But I was healthy, and strong, and I had a new life inside me to cherish and protect. I straightened my shoulders and kept moving, marching to a steady beat. I might lose, or I might win, but, whatever lay in store for me, I intended to fight.
