Author's disclaimer: Naomi and Blair are not mine. Neither is the song 'Two Beds and A Coffee Machine, that belongs to the group Savage Garden. Terry on the other hand is mine but if you want him he is yours.
Author's notes: As has happened to many people before, I was listening to a song and this story just kind of came to me. And of course a big THANK YOU (I told you it was going to be big
Two Beds and A Coffee Machine
And she takes another step
Naomi finally felt calm enough that if she tried to stand, she
would actually be able to. Actually, calm wasn't the word she was looking
for. Strong maybe, or steady, but not calm. There was no way the feelings
that, even now, over an hour later, coursed through her could ever be
mistaken for calm. Her whole body felt as if her insides were no longer
made of solid flesh and bone, but instead churning energy pulsing along
nerve pathways calling her to action, yet leaving her exhausted at the
same time. Her hand might be steady as it grabbed the closest piece
of furniture to aid her in standing, but calm was more then a steady
hand.
Finally making it to the door, Naomi took one last deep breath,
hoping that would somehow ground her, before slowly opening the old wooden
door. It took only a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the light
of the dimmer room. When she could finally see clearly the room appeared
much as she thought it would. Both the end tables as well as the coffee
table were knocked over, the coffee table's glass top nothing more than
shattered fragments across the stained carpet. Of course, all the items
that had been placed on the end and coffee tables were equally as scattered
and ragged looking. Newspapers, magazines were strewn
everywhere, and one of the lamps lay on its side, the bulb broken. One
of the pictures on the far wall was askew while it's mate seemed to be
missing altogether, only a dent in the wall caused by a fire porker now
lying on the floor, gave any indication that something had been there.
Letting her eyes scan over the damage that had been done to the
living room, Naomi's gaze finally settled on what she had been searching
for. In a recliner that was several feet away from its usual resting
place, she saw Terry. Sprawled out in the chair, head leaning to one
side, mouth open slightly as he gently snored, Naomi could almost forget
that anything had happened out of the ordinary tonight. The vision of
Terry sleeping in the recliner was a very common occurrence.
But this wasn't an ordinary night. Even from across the room, she could
smell the smoke and alcohol from his visit to the bar earlier that night.
Even now, literally hours later, she could still feel the sting of the
first slap he had given her for daring to talk back to him. It was a
conscious effort not to touch the bruise she knew now marred her light
complexion. Now was not the time to forget what had happened and be
lulled back into the routine of everyday life that the image of Terry
sleeping haphazardly in the recliner created. And yet she still felt
off kilter enough that she had no idea what she should do.
Falling back into a pattern she had followed for almost two years, the
young woman began to clean up the room. Terry's stern voice playing
over and over in her mind as she ran on autopilot. //A place for
everything and everything in it's place. Can't you get that simple concept?//
The last part she usually didn't hear anymore, but in stressful times
the whole thing rang in her head. Setting the tables back on their legs,
she stacked the magazines and papers back in their places. She didn't
know what to do about the coffee table. With the top broken it was useless,
but she found herself placing it back in the same spot it had been in
since she had moved in here.
Taking the broom from the kitchen she swept up the glass as well as she
could, the old thread bare carpet cleaning up as easily as any wooden
or tiled floor. Still, she would have to vacuum before she let her son
play here. Pausing for a moment at the thought of her son, Naomi felt
her heart constrict, causing an actual physical ache in her chest. What
was she going to do? Her little boy deserved better then this. This
was not what she had envisioned when she was fifteen years old and Terry
told her to keep the baby, that he would help raise the it. He had seemed
so happy that she was going to have their baby even if he was young,
just out of high school himself. Perhaps she had just wanted him to be
happy. Not that she would ever change the fact that she had kept her
son, even if she could have gone back and changed things. Her little
Blair was everything to her, she would never give him up.
Hearing Terry's snoring stop for a moment she paused, her body
going stone still. Glancing over her shoulder the young redhead watched
as the young man turned slightly onto his side, the recliner squeaking
slightly in protest before he settled back down into his alcohol induced
sleep.
Suddenly, she became aware of the fact that she had been afraid
that Terry would awaken. Not because they might start yelling again,
but because she was actually afraid he would hurt her. Shaking her head,
her blue eyes going almost comically wide, she realized she couldn't
live like that. She refused to become one of those battered housewives
who wore sunglasses into dim supermarkets to hide her black eye, or a
turtle neck sweater in the middle of July to hide the bruising on her
throat, all the while having six kids in tow behind her.
This image, so clearly before her mind's eye, thrust her into
action. Being as quiet yet as quick as possible, Naomi began gathering
up her meager positions. She was leaving a lot behind, but while she
scanned the bedroom she shared with Terry, she realized that there was
very little here that she truly considered her own. There was a shoebox
filled with pictures from when she had lived with her parents, before
they had disowned her. Already folded and ready to go was the old blue
and white quilt her grandma had had stitched for her when she was just
a little girl. Two medium suitcases held all of her clothes and the
few remaining items she held dear to her heart.
Once these were loaded into the car outside, Naomi hurried back
into the house to gather up her son and the few belonging she would need
for him. This was actually a little harder as she didn't want to leave
any of his things, but she knew that traveling light was what was called
for. Filling his old diaper bag with all the things a two your old boy
would need, she then filled a single backpack with clothes. Slinging
the backpack over one shoulder, and the diaper bag over the other, Naomi
stole up to her sleeping boy.
Laying in his bed, arms and legs gong every which way, Blair was
sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted. Naomi's ever present inner
voice was telling her that was only expected as the poor boy had been
up half the night crying as his mother and father had a full out screaming
match that in the end became even more. Carefully picking up the limp
body, the young woman held her son close as she tiptoed through the dark
house. Snagging both her and Blair's jackets, Naomi slipped out of the
house
Another ditch in the road
And there are children to think of
It was almost two in the morning when Naomi finally turned the car into
the parking lot of a rundown looking hotel. She wasn't all that sure
exactly where she was other than just over the Washington border. She
had driven for several hours, not really going anywhere other then away
from Terry and the small apartment she had called home for over the last
two years.
The night man look at her a little longer then she thought he
should, and it suddenly occurred to her that he was probably looking
at the bruise on her face. For a moment she was afraid he might not
let her get a room for the night, but in the end he just pushed the sign-in
book over for to her to sign. Digging into her purse, she pulled out
her money, quickly counting out enough for the night, and handed it to
the night man. Taking the old battered key he held out she followed
his instructions that would lead her to the correct room before heading
back to her car and her son.
Moving the car took only a moment. Pausing, the young woman
crossed her arms over the steering wheel before laying her forehead on
it. God, she was so tired. She felt as if things were spinning out of
control and she didn't have any clue why she was here in the parking
lot of a seedy looking hotel parked before what was sure to be a seedy
looking room.
A sound from the back made her look up, and in the rearview mirror Naomi
watched as her young boy shifted in the seat, some of the blankets she
had bundled him up in sliding onto the back floorboard. Suddenly it
was perfectly clear why she was here. Using the burst of energy that
came from that conviction, she hurried both her and her son into the
small room for the night.
Even with the light on it was dim. Despite the faded paint and the carpet
the place wasn't as bad as she had first feared it would be. There were
two twin beds against one of the walls, a scratched end table between
the two with a lamp. On an equally homely looking waist-high dresser
across from the beds was an old TV that looked as if it had seen better
days and a coffee machine.
Feeling her energy failing her again she quickly looked up, changed into
her night gown, checked Blair one last time before she climbed into her
own bed. Despite the growing heaviness of her limbs, the young woman
found her mind spinning out of control. What was she doing? How could
she do this on her own? She was only 17 and she had a 2-year old boy.
She had no job. And what skills did a high school dropout have that
could earn her money? The only way she had been able to afford this
room was months of squirreling away what was left of the money Terry
gave her for shopping. Not that he had really been giving her enough
for food.
Even with staying in cheap hotels like this one, her money would
soon be gone. And what about food and gas? How long would she last
without those? Hell, she didn't even know where she was going. She
had no friends, and no family. How was she going to take care of Blair?
She might be able to do this if it was just her, but she had Blair to
think about.
With that last thought running though her head, she turned and a
hiss passed her lips as she did, her bruise making contact with her hand
on the pillow. Pushing that thought as well as all the thoughts about
what tomorrow would hold, Naomi let out a deep sigh and let sleep claim
her.
Sinking down into sleep, her mind pulled up dreams of summer days, free
of worry, like when she was a child. Blair was with her, his face beaming
up at her as he played in the front yard of their house, only it wasn't
their house. This one was clean and homey. Terry was there, not drunk
and complaining about all the injustices of work. Instead, he was smiling,
watching their son playing in the grass.
And even as she smiled at how perfect it was, part of her mind
knew it was nothing but a dream.
(end?)
Complete song by Savage Garden
And she takes another step
Another ditch in the road
Another ditch in the road
And there are children to think of
Another bruise to try and hide
Another ditch in the road
By Banshee
Slowly she opens the door
Checking that he is sleeping
Picking up all the broken glass and furniture on the floor
Been up half the night screaming, now it's time to get away
Pack up the kids in the car
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alibi to write
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
Baby's asleep in the back-seat
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare
But the mind is an amazing thing
Full of candy dreams and new toys and another cheap hotel
Two beds and a coffee machine
But there are groceries to buy
And she knows she'll have to go home
Comments and ideas welcome
Banshee
Slowly she opens the door
Checking that he is sleeping
Picking up all the broken glass and furniture on the floor
Been up half the night screaming, now it's time to get way
Pack up the kids in the car
Another bruise to try and hide
Another alibi to write
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Wonder how I ever made it through
Baby's asleep in the back-seat
Wonder how they'll ever make it through this living nightmare
But the mind is an amazing thing
Full of candy dreams and new toys and another cheap hotel
Two beds and a coffee machine
But there are groceries to buy
And she knows she'll have to go home
Another alibi to write
Another lonely highway in the black of night
But there's hope in the darkness
You know you're going to make it
You keep moving
Another stop sign
You keep moving on
And the years go by so fast
Silent fortress built to last
Wonder how I ever made it