Dakota (Ch 6)

My initial thought couldn't have been more wrong. Janie hadn't heard the news. She didn't know that Jason had been brutally murdered. And from what she had said so far, I don't think she even knew that Mom or Dad had died. I was about to tell her that most of her family was dead. I was all she had left. She was all I had left.

Why was she back in Wessington? Something must have brought her back. Something brought her home.

Murphy's was inundated with last minutes shoppers. It was expected. Christmas was a day away, the impending snowstorm, and the grassroots movement to save the store. It had been all over the papers in the past weeks. Murphy's was the essence of Wessington. In fact, it was in existence before the town was even founded, before a single home was built. In 1873, Murphy's was established as a trading post on the road that led west into Montana. In time it evolved into a market and general store. It was the core of Wessington's economy for decades. Then came the age of the low cost superstore. Walmart. People were wooed with cheap promises. That was until, the news of Murphy's financial troubles hit the Western Dakota Telegraph. Jason grew up with Robert Murphy IV. They had remained friends even after Jason moved to Chicago. When Jason learned that Bobby, who now ran the store, was feeling the pinch from Walmart, he took action. He started writing op-ed pieces for the paper. At first he urged people to support the store because it was the reason the town existed at all. But it transformed into a dialogue between people all over the county, each and everyone with story to tell about Murphy's, and a reason to save the store. It didn't happen overnight. But as the days turned into months, Murphy's saw customers come back. Customers who were willing to pay more for the same goods. For Murphy's.

I shared their nostalgia. Murphy's was Wessington. And Wessington wasn't home without Murphy's. I made my loop through the store, leaving out some things, adding others, given the turn of events that had transpired. I just wanted to get home. I wanted to talk to my sister. I had to tell her the horrible news.

The line at lane 5 was long. But it was the shortest line. There was no express at Murphy's. And everyone knew everyone. Checkout was a social event. Given the holiday, it was even moreso. I leaned on the cart, tapped my foot. My eyes wandered. I saw Janie's truck parked next to my car. I could barely make out her shadow as she sat and waited. But without a doubt, I saw the bottle. She was anyone but the kid I remembered. A few flakes began to whip through the brisk air. I stepped forward, one customer close to the exit. The minutes crawled by.

/ / /

"What's taking him so damn long. I can't just sit here all day."

She pressed the bottle to her lips and threw her head back.

"I'm losing it. I'm losing it, here. Dammit Jake hurry up!"

Her fingers tapped the wheel. Her legs trembled. A twinge ran up her spine. She couldn't just sit and wait. What was taking so long. It was getting harder to see the door of the store across the parking lot. The snow was heavier now. She tried to calm herself. Another swig pacified her for a few moments. Then another.

"Janie, what's your problem? Act like a normal person. Push your issues aside. Pull yourself together for God's sake."

She slapped herself, first gently then harder. She pulled the visor down and stared back at her reflection. She looked into her past. She slapped herself again. She saw them all. The men who had hit her, beat her. She had tried to forget. Blink. Now that the memories had surfaced, she couldn't suppress them. She wanted to. She tried. But she could only see their faces. She tried to look away. She covered her eyes. They just stared back at her. All of them. They were all there, staring, judging. She knew what she had done. But she didn't deserve what she got. She had immersed herself in a lifestyle that led to one abusive relationship after another. If you could call them relationships. It was the life she knew. One face in particular was especially familiar. She looked back at the exit of Murphy's.

"I don't think Jake even knows. I never told him. I never told anyone."

Her only reprieve from the peering eyes of her past was the bottle. As she pulled the bottle from her mouth, tequila ran down her chin. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her flannel shirt.

"Ah. There's no glory in drinking away your problems. But it feels good going down."

She reached behind her seat, searching. She felt the cold steel. It was still there. She picked it up somewhere between L.A. and the border. Lifted it from a trucker after he'd passed out from too much weed and booze. She'd slipped out of the cab while he slept off his indiscretion. It was luckily she did too. It proved to be her savior, more than once. No one argues with a shotgun. No one. And when the carrier knows how to shoot. Well, there wasn't the faintest hint of a protest. She got what she wanted. Or she shot. And she didn't miss. Just ask, the silence of her victims was proof enough.

She just needed to feel that it was still there.

"Just checking. I can't do this without you."

/ / /

I took my receipt, pushed my cart to the door, grabbed the bags and practically ran to the the car. It had been too long. I should have skipped the store. I should have just taken Janie home. I put the bags on the back seat and leaned down to Janie's window.

"Alright. I know that took forever. I'm sorry. It was crazy in there and of course, no one was in a hurry."

"It's okay. Let's just go."

"So just follow me. It'll seem like forever. It did the first time I drove into town."

I turned and hopped in the car. The snow was still falling. I cleared the windshield with the wipers. Still pretty wet. I pulled back onto North Avenue and then onto Main Street. It still felt like such a long drive to the house. I didn't remember that from growing up. Not a minute went by that I didn't check my mirror. She was still back there. I didn't want to lose her.

We pulled down the gravel road and then the lane. It was mostly dirt now. I drifted past the house and stopped under the cover of some pines. Janie turned and drove in front of the house. I could see her as she gazed at the home she once knew, coming to a stop in front of the collapsing garage where she had begun her journey for years earlier.

This is where it got hard. How was I supposed to tell her that her family was dead? 'Oh yeah Janie, by the way, everyone else died while you were gone. So what have you been up to.' She was going to know. She was going to know the minute she opened that door. She'd see that no one was there. She'd wonder why I was here. She would know. But I'd have to explain. She'd have questions.

I made my way up the walk, fumbling with the bags, searching for the right key. She crossed from the opposite side of the drive, her head cocked, eyes squinted.

"This place is falling apart. It's only been four years. It didn't look like this when I left. I know that much."

"Yeah, well a lot can happen in four years. I have a hell of a lot to tell you Janie. Let's just get inside, get the groceries away and I'll tell you the whole story. What I know anyway."

"Where's Mom? Dad? Isn't anyone else here?"

"I'll tell you the whole story. But not like this. We need to sit. You need to sit."

"Jake, I can handle whatever the hell happened up here. Trust me. I told you, I've got a story of my own, alright."

"No. Not yet. Just get inside."

"Stop being so flipping dramatic."

"Janie, please. Listen--"

"No Jake, you listen! Just tell me where everyone is at. I'm a big girl. I can handle it."

"I don't want to do it this way."

"Jake, c'mon"

She pushed me too far. The emotions of that night were still fresh in my mind, right at the surface. I had myself fooled. I wasn't over it. I'd never be over it. But this was too much. I couldn't take the pushing. It reminded me of Rebekah. That only made it worse.

"YOUR FAMILY IS DEAD!"

Janie didn't move. There was no reaction. I lurched forward as if I had just been stabbed. I collapsed into a pile of plastic bags, fallen leaves, and fresh snow. And I felt. The body was in front of me again. I was ten minutes late.