House Guest
An excerpt from Servicing the Pole
Alannah emerges from the basement, still looking dark and unhappy. I’m ready to just leave her alone, but she sits down next to me. We don’t speak for a while.
Both of us stare straight ahead at the nearly identical wall across the room, our reflections distorted by sweat and many years of thick, grimy disappointment.
“Listen,” she utters abruptly, breaking the reverie.
Her beautiful face is pinched.
“What’s up?” I ask softly.
There’s a long pause, and then she says, “Could I… like, maybe crash at your place for a little while if I had to?”
This is the last thing I expected her to ask me. We’ve never even hung out.
But… “Of course,” I answer, automatically. It never occurs to me to say no. Or to ask her for how long she plans to stay.
“Like, maybe I can come home with you tomorrow night and just stay there?”
“Yeah, Alannah, sure, but what’s going on?”
She’s quiet for a moment.
“Alannah…”
“I have to get away from my old man,” she spits out quickly, her voice rising. “You see this bruise?”
She unwinds a scarf from around her neck, and sure enough, there are marks all around her throat. I don’t know how I missed seeing them while we were downstairs.
“What did he do to you?” I ask.
“Last night…” She holds back a sob. “He – he threw me on the floor and choked me. We were fighting. I just wanted him to leave me alone. So when he let go of me, I ran in the bathroom and slit my wrist. I told him that if it would make him happier for me to be dead, I would do it for him myself.”
“Jesus! What the fuck? You have to get out of there!”
“I know. So, really, is it okay?”
“Fucking yes, it’s okay! You working tomorrow night?”
She nods.
“Well, bring some clothes to work with you. Just pack a small suitcase. You’ll come home with me after work. Don’t even tell him you’re leaving,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“Girl, don’t ask me that again.”
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