“If you ain’t there to take care of your ol’ lady then she ain’t your fuckin’ ol’ lady. If you would’ve been there, then they never would have showed up. You left her, dumb-ass. You been walking around here for two weeks with your little pink panties in a twist. Man the fuck up. If you want her, go get her. If you don’t, then quit putting the whole club at risk because of her.”
Roach takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. He looks like death, and if I already didn’t feel like shit, this moment would make me. I’ve disappointed him. It’s a shitty feeling.
“Disappear for a while. Both of you. At least until I can get this shit cleaned up.”
They leave, and Shady and I are left feeling like kids who just got sent to their room. I don’t know what his plans are, but mine are forming in my head. Fast.
“I’m heading down to Mexico. See ya around, Dirk.” Shady’s leaving and I wonder if it’s the last time I’ll ever see him. We don’t know what tomorrow holds. But, if I knew he only had six months to live, I know what I would tell him.
“Thanks, Shady. For everything.” I walk away before he wants a hug or some shit. Shady’s destination is Mexico. So is mine, but I have a stop to make first.
17
I’VE BEEN SITTIN’ at the airport in Jackson for hours. I can’t find the balls to leave. I don’t know what she will say or if she will say anything. She may not forgive me for what I did, but my heart, the one that I managed to piece back together on the flight over, tells me she will.
When my phone rings, it’s a number I don’t recognize. I’m hesitant, but I answer because only a few people even have this number.
“Yeah.” I hear noise in the background like two people are arguing. Then, I hear the familiar voice of Saylor’s friend. It’s Jeffery.
“Dirk?” I stay silent, trying to figure out who the other voice in the background is. Jeffery is obviously covering the phone. “Shut up!” he yells and I have to pull my head away from the phone. “Dirk? It’s Jeffery.”
“What do you want, Jeffery?” To castrate me?
“We have a little problem.” Alarm bells are going off inside my head. Something is wrong.
“What? What’s wrong?” I’m shouting, drawing stares from people in the small airport.
“Don’t tell him shit!” This time, Donnawayne’s voice can be heard clearly through the phone. He is pissed. I hear a struggle and then a door slam before Jeffery starts rapidly speaking.
“She’s gone, Dirk.” My heart sinks. My world stills. But Jeffery is still speaking. I catch a few words here and there, but I just want to hang up. I want to die. I want to torture myself for wasting the past two weeks being selfish when I should have been with her. “Dirk?”
“Do you know where she is or not?!” Donnawayne’s scream cuts through my thoughts. What?
“What?” I find my voice, it’s weak but it’s there.
“Saylor. Do you know where she could be?” I hit my knees in relief. I need to puke. Or faint. Or laugh. My reprieve is almost too much.
“She isn’t dead.” I say the words out loud and I find myself laughing.
“What? No! Oh, shit! I’m sorry. I meant she is gone, as in we woke up this morning and she had left. Her coffee can of cash, her diary, and her backpack are missing. We don’t know where she is.”
I pull my shit together and stand. I find my way outside into the fresh air, then light a smoke. I must have told them to give me a minute at some point, because they are still on the phone with me when I use the cherry from my first cigarette to light my second. Now maybe I can be of some use.
“Okay, when’s the last time you saw her?”
“Last night. She fell asleep on the couch and we stayed there with her. Then this morning, I thought she just went out to get coffee, but it’s after two and she’s not here. And her stuff is missing.” Jeffery calms a crying Donnawayne while I think, but he didn’t give me much to go on.
“Did she say anything? I mean the smallest thing could mean something.”
“No. Nothing.”
“We didn’t even get to talk because of that damn movie.” I hear Donnawayne’s voice in the background and something triggers in my memory.
“What movie?” I ask, already knowing what the answer is.
“Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” And just like that, I’m booking a flight to Del Rio.
—
In the town of Ciudad Acu?a, there is a bar called La Dama, meaning “the lady.” It’s just across the Mexican border and a place I’ve visited many times. The damas are plentiful there too. But I’m not going for them. I’m going for the white lights that hang on the patio, the endless tequila, and my dama, who will be waiting for me.
Call it coincidence, fate, or divine intervention, but a black van was in the border line next to the cab Saylor took. And in that black van was Shady, who led her to the place she was searching for, after he called to tell me where she was. She never asked him to not tell me. I guess she assumed I was either coming or I didn’t give a shit. She probably thought the latter.