Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men - By Regan Wolfrom Page 0,46
So unless you’re about to give me a blow job... just leave me alone. I’m tired of your shit.”
“What?”
“I... just... don’t... care. Get it?”
“Fuck you.”
He stood up from the table and faced me. He undid his pants and pulled them down. He still had his boxer shorts; I prayed he’d keep them on.
“We’re going to die,” he said. “I really don’t care what you think of me.”
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think?”
“Don’t you dare touch me.”
“I don’t care who I touch. Well, not Darrel.”
He started towards me.
I moved away.
He climbed onto Breccan’s bunk.
My first thought was to call for Darrel. But I didn’t. As much as they’d fought, Darrel and Jon were friends. And Breccan and I were just the two girls who’d came along for the trip and shot them both down.
I didn’t think I could trust him to help me.
I grabbed at Jon, trying to pull him off of her. He slapped me hard against my temple and I fell back against the cabin wall.
I pulled at him again.
He struck me harder, right across my face.
I could feel my nose bleeding.
I ran to galley and pulled out the cast iron pan.
I swung it at his head.
He groaned and turned to look at me.
He climbed off the bunk.
I held the pan up beside my head.
“I’ll hit you again,” I said.
He stumbled toward me, waving his arms like an angry bear. “You crazy bitch! You could have killed me.”
He grabbed my arm and the pan, trying to wrestle the weapon away from me.
I sent my knee up at his groin.
He dropped to the floor of the cabin.
I was tempted to hit him with the pan again.
“What the hell?” I heard Darrel say. “What the fuck did you just do, Steph?”
I kept a hold on the pan as I backed away from Jon. “He attacked her,” I said. “He was going to rape her.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
Darrel shook his head. “I can’t believe that.”
Jon slowly stood up. “She’s full of shit,” he said.
Darrel reached for the pan.
I let him take it. I didn’t know what else to do.
“What did you do, Jon?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Jon said.
“Well you must have done something here. Steph’s nose is bleeding and I can almost see bits of that tiny lizard brain of yours.”
“She just lost it on me.”
“Come on. Just tell me the truth, man.”
“She blames herself... you know, for Breccan trying to off herself and everything. Steph’s losing her mind. She just flipped out on me.”
“So you were sitting around with no pants on and Steph just decided to try and kill you?”
“I don’t know why... she just went at me.”
“You know that isn’t true,” I said to Darrel. “You know I wouldn’t just attack someone with a cast iron pan.”
“I know,” Darrel said. “And now we have another problem to deal with.”
“Whatever man,” Jon said. “You want to take this bitch’s word over mine, that’s fine. Just both of you stay clear of me, alright?”
“Alright,” Darrel said.
Jon put on his pants and his raincoat and climbed back up to the cockpit.
I stumbled over to my bunk and collapsed. I didn’t bother trying to clean up my face, and to Darrel’s credit, he didn’t try to lick the blood out of my nostrils.
He sat down beside Breccan, still gripping the bloody pan.
“Things are falling apart,” he said.
“They’re long past falling apart,” I replied.
He tried to hide it, but I could tell he was crying.
WEDNESDAY - Nine Days Adrift
NO RAIN again. There’s no bright side left.
We left one of the rainiest places on earth and now it feels like we're in a desert. It's warmer today, so I dragged a finally-awake Breccan up for some fresh air. She was dressed in a long-sleeve shirt, which covered up her bandages nicely; I didn't want her to think about the scars she'd be left with.
As soon as Jon saw us he looked down at his feet. I couldn't tell if it was regret or disgust.
"You should go down to the salon," Darrel told him.
"It's okay," I said. "We can all sit up here today... make the best of it." It felt unnecessary to hate a dying man when you're on your own deathbed.
Darrel shook his head. “I don’t think so. Jon and I will go down to the salon. You girls enjoy the weather.”
"Yeah... alright," Jon said.
He and Darrel went down into the cabin while Breccan and I sat in the cockpit.
“I don’t know why you stopped me,” Breccan said. “I made my choice.”