Escape Artist

A Short Story By Lo Brewer

Main Street of Red Lodge. Montana, USA.© Velela/Wikipedia Commons

The last time Trent was driving down Main Street, past the 76 gas station, he was headed in the opposite direction.  He was high tailing it out of town for bigger and better things, or so he thought.  He never imagined he’d be back in White Ridge.  But here he was, back with his tail between his legs. How could he explain what had gone so terribly wrong to his loved ones? Maybe he wouldn’t have to since his parents were dead, and he’d left his only real friend in the world behind in this piece of shit town to figure things out for himself.

Trent parked his Camaro in front of his parents’ home.  It stood just as he remembered it. Both his parents had been gone nearly a year, first his father from cancer, then his mother from a broken heart.  Trent hadn’t returned for either of their funerals. He sent money and made sure everything was taken care of, of course.  But he couldn’t bring himself to show his face.

The property was still kept up thanks to a monthly check that Trent sent to the Williams’ old neighbor, Mr. Hodge.  George Hodge made his meager living from doing gardening and odd jobs around town.  In another life, in another place, he could have been a master landscaper.  But that’s not how things worked in White Ridge.  In White Ridge you’re not a landscaper, you’re a handyman.  Had Trent stayed there after graduating he might have been a furniture clerk, or maybe a bartender at the local watering hole.  But most likely he would have ended up where 95 percent of White Ridge ended up, the glass plant.  It was a sad existence. But that plant was the only thing keeping the town running.

When Trent drove out of town 10 years before, he was saying goodbye to everything he knew.  Most people would be terrified at the prospect of a completely new life.  But Trent was different.  The unknown future exhilarated him. 

After landing in New York City, Trent became a bartender at a nightclub and his savings grew quickly.  He was originally putting away money for school.  But after a few months of being surrounded by the city’s nightlife, he realized he wanted to become a club owner. Trent was eventually promoted from bartender to promoter, then later to manager.  He had saved up half of the capital necessary to open his own club.  But he realized that it took more than money to break into the business.  A chance meeting with a few shady characters that frequented the club he worked in, led to Trent making deals that he would later regret. Five years after arriving in New York City, Trent was the proud owner of a new club that he named The Ridge. He wished he owned it outright.  But unfortunately he had to acquiesce to having several silent partners.   

The club ran well for several years.  But by the start of year five, Trent was finding it harder and harder to compete with the smaller lounges and bars that had popped up all over the city.  People seemed to want a more intimate party experience than The Ridge provided. Trent was swimming in debt and his investors were becoming impatient with his excuses.  The time had finally come for Trent to repay all the favors he’d asked of them.  They had a solution to Trent’s money problem.  They would use his club to launder money from their other enterprises.  Soon after, there were seedy characters in and out of The Ridge on a nightly basis.  It’d become a wasteland for criminal activity and Trent wanted out.  But when he attempted to ask for a reprieve, his life was threatened.  That was three nights ago.  He went back to his loft apartment and grabbed the stash of money he had hidden in a safe.  It wasn’t enough to do much in the city.  But where he was going, he could live on it for years. Trent then hopped in his car and drove for 72 hours straight.  It was instinctual.  He went back to the only place where he could still feel like the big man he’d been trying to be all these years.

When he walked into the house he’d grown up in, he was surprised to find it in such pristine condition.    The rug was vacuumed.  The tables and bureaus were recently dusted. He half expected to see his mother immerge from the kitchen wearing an apron and offering him a pot roast.  He stood in the foyer for several minutes but was greeted by no one. 

Trent spent the next hour slowly exploring the house.  He used to know this house so well, but somehow now it felt like the home of a stranger.  A decade’s time will do that. As he was descending the stairs he saw the handle of the front door jingling.  Someone was trying to get in.  He raced down the steps in what couldn’t have been more than two large leaps.  He turned the door handle with his left hand while his right rested on the shotgun his father had leaned in the corner behind the door, ready to defend the home he’d abandoned so many years ago.

“Jesus Christ!” the woman on the other side of the door screamed when Trent yanked it open.

“Who are you?! Why are you trying to break into my parents’ house?” Trent asked.

“I’m not trying to break in,” she said and held up a pair of keys. “I’m the housekeeper.  I come in and clean once a week.”

“Oh,” Trent said, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry about that.  I’m Trent.  I used to live here.  This is my parents’ house.  I didn’t realize that I was paying for a housekeeper.”

“I don’t know what you’re paying for sir.  I work with Mr. Hodge.  He does all the outside work. And he pays me to clean up on the inside of the homes he works on.  Usually I’m just doing clean up after he fixes something.  But sometimes I just come on in and straighten things up.  Your parents have some beautiful antique furniture in here.  I just want to see it cared for.”

“Hodge did add some surcharges on to his services a few months ago. I guess you’re the surcharges.”

“Look, I can come back another time if you want.  Or I can never come back.  Are you here to stay?”

“Me? Oh I don’t know.  I guess you can go ahead and do whatever it is that you do in here. I’ve never been much of a housekeeper.  So I’ll probably need your services to continue.”

“Fine by me,” she said with a shrug.  She grabbed her supplies and pushed past Trent. “Name’s Jeanie by the way.”

Trent left her in the living room and went into the kitchen to search for something to eat.  But the house hadn’t been inhabited for a year, so there wasn’t anything in the cabinets. He walked back out into the living room where Jeanie was getting situated.

“Hey Jeanie, is Tuck’s still open?” he asked.

“Tuck’s? Yea, there still around,” she said.

“Cool, I’m gonna step out for a minute.  I guess you should just lock up when you’re done.”

“Thanks for the tip. I was just going to leave the door wide open.”

Trent considered responding to her.  But decided that she’d likely win in a war of wits.

Thankfully he didn’t see anyone in Tuck’s Place that he recognized or that recognized him.  He sat in a back corner booth and ate a burger and fries, washed down with a cheap domestic beer. When he got back home, there was no evidence of Jeanie sans the sparkling finish she left on the secretary in the hall. 

When he went to bed that night, in his old bedroom, he slept peacefully for the first time in a long time.  Maybe it was the fact that he’d been awake for three days straight.  Or maybe it was something else.

Over the next few weeks Trent ran into Jeanie several times. When he went to the grocery store to grab a few things for the house she was there stocking shelves.  When he went to the dinner to see if they still made that pecan pie he loved so much, she was washing dishes in the back. She always said hello. But that was the extent of their interaction.  When she came back to the house to clean, Trent, who’d previously left her to her work, followed her through the house as she straightened up. By the time she left, Trent had learned her life story. She grew up in a town about 20 miles away from White Ridge.  It was slightly larger, although no more exciting.  After high school she moved here with hopes of getting a job at the plant.  She heard they paid well and she wanted to save money for school.  But she never got that job at the plant.  So she took up a series of odd jobs all around town.  But 10 years, and one hapless marriage later, and she wasn’t much further in her quest for freedom than she had been when she first set out.

Trent felt for her.  He knew exactly what it felt like to want to escape a place like this.  Except he’d actually done it.  He didn’t know what it felt like to be trapped. Because the instant he felt caged he’d break free.

“Hey, you wanna go to Tuck’s?” Trent asked as Jeanie was putting on her jacket.

“No, thanks but I really hate that place.  It’s depressing.  Everyone heads there after their shift at the plant.  They stay until they can barely walk and then stumble out and back to their shitty homes and their shitty lives.  Nope.  I’d much rather drink at home alone.  It’s way less miserable.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Maybe some other time,” she said with a quick smile.  This was the first time Trent saw her smile.  He engraved the image on his mind.

“Thanks for the talk,” Trent said.

“It was more of an interrogation.  But I probably needed to purge a little.  So thanks, I guess. I’m gonna head out of here and let you get to a rousing night at Tuck’s.”

Jeanie grabbed her things and walked out of the front door.  Something in Trent wanted to chase after her.  But he just stood there in the now silent living room.

When he walked into Tuck’s it was livelier than his first time there. The booths were full and the only open spot for him to sit was at the far end of the bar.  He pulled up the stool and ordered a double of whiskey, neat.

“You’re not from around here,” said the voice coming from under the cowboy hat seated next to Trent.

“As a matter of fact I am from around here.  Just ain’t been here in a long time. Name’s Trent, Trent Williams.” He didn’t know why he was being so chatty.  Since returning to White Ridge, he’d laid pretty low, not wanting to reconnect with anyone from his past.

“Well I’ll be damned,” said the voice as the man turned his low hanging head to face Trent. “If it ain’t my long lost best friend. The prodigal son hath returned!” he said, possibly a little louder than he intended.

“Rich? Rich is that you?” Trent asked.  But the question was unnecessary. He knew the man sitting next to him was Rich Masters.  Rich, his best friend from kindergarten through high school graduation.  Rich, the corn fed, all-American football star.  Rich, the most kindhearted and loyal person he ever met.  Rich, the guy who was now sitting, slumped at a bar, three sheets to the wind, wearing a dusty factory uniform and crying into his pint.

“The one and only!  What the fuck are you doing here? After your parents passed, God rest their souls, and you didn’t come back for the funerals, I just figured I’d never see you again.  But here you are, standing before me, looking like a million fucking bucks. Come here buddy,” Rich said as he pulled Trent in for an awkward hug.  Rich was always a big guy. And though his muscly frame had been replaced by a beer belly, he was still strong.  There was no fighting off one of his hugs.  

Trent started meeting Rich at Tuck’s nearly every day after his shift.  He bankrolled hRich’s drinking habit and even paid off the tab he’d racked up at the bar. Trent felt like it was the least he could do.  He’d left Rich alone in White Ridge to fend for himself.  After Rich blew out his knee in the championship game, he was useless to play on any college team.  He’d never focused on his coursework so there was no way his academics would get him into schoo.  And like every other family in White Ridge, the Masters were dirt poor. So Rich got stuck there, doing what everyone else did, working at the glass plant.  He’d married a girl a few years back.  He thought he’d start a family, have a few kids.  But after trying for five years, they still hadn’t conceived.  It led to fights and to them separating. Not having anyone to go home to anymore, made spending all his money at Tuck’s a pursuit that made the most sense.

Trent tried desperately to get Jeanie to go to Tuck’s with him. He hated having to split time between her and Rich.  And he honestly believed that she and Rich would make a good match.  They were sweet, but also sad and lonely. He thought that maybe if Jeanie and Rich met each other they could have a positive effect on one another.

But he stopped trying to play matchmaker after a while.  After numerous impromptu meetups at the diner Jeanie worked at as well as the long talks they had while she was cleaning his parents house, Trent found himself so enthralled with her that he gave up on trying to get her and Rich together. Jeanie had fallen for him too.  She was enticed by his worldly ways.  He’d done what she’d always wanted to do. He’d made it out.  She found his ambition sexy.  So when he grabbed her from behind one day when she was doing dishes in the sink, she let him take her. 

They were living together shortly after. She moved out of the small apartment she’d been staying in, to live at Trent’s parents home.  Though he always contended that his living there was a temporary situation, he’d slowly made a home for himself in White Ridge again.

Trent and Jeanie were having a quiet dinner at home when the house phone rang.  It gave the both of them a start.  No one ever called the landline. It was Tawny, a cocktail waitress at The Ridge. He’d given her his parents number in case of emergency.

“Trent, they’re coming for you,” Tawny said.

“What? Who is this?”

“T, it’s me, Tawny.  They’re coming for you. The boss found out where you went and he sent some of his guys after you.  No idea when they’re getting there. But you better skate if you don’t want them to drag you back here.”

“Shit,” Trent said.

“What’s wrong babe?” Jeanie asked.  But Trent didn’t answer her.

“What do you mean drag me back?”

“When you left, you put the boss in a really fucked up position.  You’re clean, and he needs you to be the face of The Ridge. Without you, it’s just a crime den.  The police start sniffing around and asking questions.  So he needs you back. Look, I gotta go.  If he finds out I told you this, it’s my ass.  Just get outta there before the goons touch down.  Cus they’ve got a world of hurt ready for you. Bye T,” Tawny said.

“Bye,” Trent said, but she’d already hung up.

“What’s going on? You look white as a sheet,” Jeanie said.

“I, I have to tell you something.” Trent laid everything on the table.  He told her everything that had happened for the past ten years. When he was done he looked at her with pleading tear-filled eyes.

“Please don’t’ hate me Jeanie,” he said.

“Oh babe, I don’t hate you.  I can’t hate you.  You told me the truth, a hard truth. And I think I should do the same,” she said.  She took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’m not divorced. There I said it.”

“What do you mean? I thought you split with your husband years ago.”

“I did.  I mean we split up.  I got an apartment.  I had the papers drawn up. But he never signed them. I didn’t want to press the issue.  I just wanted to move on.  Surprisingly, as small as this town is, I don’t ever even see him.  It’s like he’s completely disappeared from my life. But I’ll do it. I’ll do it tonight.  I’ll take those papers straight to him and make him sign them.”

“You don’t have to do that right now.  We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“I do.  I have to do this as soon as possible. So that when those guys come for you, they’ll just find an empty house because we’ll have both left…together…if you still want to be with me.”

“Of course I do,” Trent said.

“Then it’s settled.  I’ll be back in a few hours.  Pack us a bag.  We’re leaving town tonight.” And with that she was out the door.

When Jeanie walked into Tuck’s with the large manila envelop, she walked right over to Rich, who was about 5 beers in and looking for a fight.

“Richard,” she said with one hand on his back.  He jumped.

“Jeanie, Jeanie baby, what are you doing here?”

“Richard, Rich, I came here because I need you to sign these papers.  I need you to sign them tonight. And I need you to not give me any trouble.”

“I guess I knew this day was coming. Fine, I’ll sign the papers.  But you gotta tell me why.  Why’d you wait this long to force this on me, huh? Is it a new guy? You got a new man that you’re spreading it for? I always knew you was a whore.  Couldn’t have no babies for me, but now you runnin around town with God knows who.”

“I’ll tell you what you want to know, every last detail.  But sign the fucking papers Richard.” Jeanie stared blankly at Rich.  She refused to speak or even blink before he signed the divorce papers.  After each one was signed, she packed them neatly in the envelop and looked into Rich’s eyes.

“To answer your question, yes, I have someone new. I have someone who loves and respects me.  I have someone who actually did something with their lives and who’s gonna take me and our baby out of this shit hole!”

“Baby? What baby?” Rich asked horrified.

“That’s right baby.  I’m pregnant Rich.  Maybe the reason why I never got pregnant with you is because your equipment is broken.  Or maybe my body just rejected you.  Either way, I’m glad I never made a baby with you.  You’re pathetic.  You’re nothing like Trent.  He’s somebody.”

“Trent? Trent Williams? This can’t be right,” Rich said as he sat there hurt and stunned.

“What do you know about Trent?” Jeanie asked.

“I only know he’s my best friend in the whole world.  And he’s smart.  You know, you’re right.  Trent is somebody.  He’s better than this place.  He’s better than me and he’s better than you.  He’s going places and trust and believe he’s not gonna let you or no baby hold him up. In fact, he’s got some business in New York. There was two suits in here not five minutes ago lookin’ for him.  I sent em over to the Williams’.  I bet he’ll be gone by the time your ass gets back there.”

“Damnit Rich!” Jeanie ran out of the bar, to the pay phone outside.  She didn’t realize she’d left the envelop on the counter.

She called Trent and warned him the mobsters were headed to the house.

“Trent, baby, just get out of there. Screw the bags! Come get me at Tuck’s.  I got Rich to sign the papers.  We just gotta get outta town and then you me and the baby can start our lives together. Trent? Trent are you there?”

But Trent wasn’t there.  His brain had shut off.  Rich? The baby? What was going on? Trent stood there stunned holding the phone when he heard footsteps on the front porch. His first instinct was to run.  To hang up the phone, blast his way through the front door, hop in his Camaro and speed out of town. But maybe it was time to face the music.

Trent walked slowly over to the front door.  He turned the knob with his left hand as his right reached for the 10-gauge.

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