Chapter Twelve: Botched Exit

October 2007 was a crazy month for me, no joke, but I DID manage to have something positive happen. I had kept in contact with Priest every so often (I actually still remember that phone number to this day) and I managed a night where Gypsy was not home, and his parents and grandmother were asleep. I texted Priest, asking if he might help me get away from Gypsy.

Priest mentioned that he could help me get away from the house for a while, and we could talk about it in person – oh yeah, and he had a motorcycle.

***Note***

During this time, my favorite vehicles included a Jeep Wrangler, Harley Davidson’s Road King, Low Rider, and Fat Boy, The Mitsubishi-Spyder Convertible Eclipse, and basically any other motorcycle out there. Oh yeah, I’d risk it. And I did.

I went outside around the time he said he would be arriving, and walked away from the house, towards the strip mall at the end of the street. When I’d reached the next block, his bike could be heard just as it pulled off of the main highway onto my street. He stopped under the streetlight, dressed in all black, riding a charcoal grey Honda VTX 1300. I hopped on, and we were off

FREEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

motorcycle-freedom-mainbanner

I had no idea where we were going, but I didn’t care. I loved this moment. He grabbed my hands and wrapped me closer around him, and I smelled the leather of his jacket, the scent of some unknown fragrance on him, and the salt air as we rode at God knows what speed down the road. He pulled into an abandoned parking lot across from the AppleField’s gas station. I think it used to be a Bingo hall? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. We stopped for a bit and I got off the bike, freezing and wishing I’d had a coat. My legs felt strange beneath me after the rumbling of the bike for so long. He said something to me, but I didn’t hear him. I was nervous and cold and huddled against myself. I scarcely had time to look up before he grabbed the fabric of my shirt, pulled me close and kissed me.

Little did I know at the time just how bad for me he’d later become

Because of the cold, my legs took a little longer to remember that, yes, we were indeed standing up, and they buckled out from beneath me. I almost fell onto his bike, but he caught me, and laughed.

I don’t remember the ride that followed. My heart pounded too hard in my chest, I was so nervous and cold. We arrived somewhere – I don’t even remember where it was, nor do I remember walking up to the door. I only remember walking inside – the kitchen was to the right. The livingroom straight ahead – there were baby toys on the floor. ‘I’ll have to buy some of those soon‘ I thought to myself. He led me to the left, into his bedroom. All I remember about this room is that his bed was in a corner against a window. There were clothes on the floor. He kissed me again. When he stopped this time, his eyes looked….devious. I was immediately….shy? Nervous? I don’t know which.

“Now…” He told me in a low, seductive voice, “On your knees” I knew what he was asking, but that was something I just didn’t do. Something that Gypsy has tried to force me to do for him.

“I can’t,” I told him, looking downcast, “Bad past.”

He continued with me anyway, all the way to the point that we were at the verge of…but just as we were about to cross that fine line between friends and lovers, he stopped.

“What is it?” I asked

“Eh…I’m just pondering,” He said

“Pondering what?” I pressed on

“You” He answered.

“What?” I replied, “Why?”

I don’t remember the answer he gave at the time, but we did not continue, we dressed, and he brought me back home. I spent the next 4 years at a distance from Priest, but I could not seem to cut him out of my life completely. He kept in contact with me, never showing any signs of a negative opinion of me, talked with me throughout many hard times, and talked with me for no reason at all – mostly about religion. I had not really been raised with religion, only on the basis of the Christian way of life, so I was truly a blank slate for religion at all. This was how we began to get close. This was how Priest became one of my friends: The Church. It was always Priest who made me feel connected to a Church I did not understand, a God I did not know. He made it easy to follow. An exciting adventure rather than a boring lecture. “Priest” got this nickname from not only making God and The Church a way of life (and not just a weekly schedule) but also because of his own pursuit of The Church and Seminary School.

Back on point, however, that following December, Gypsy and I had another huge fight about God knows what, and he went to work. I packed all of my things and called Grim.

“Come get me,” I said, “I can’t stay here another minute”

Grim waited until Gypsy got off work, and followed him home. We went out to Waffle House to discuss whatever it was we were fighting about. (At this point I was 4 months pregnant and showing). Grim tried to mediate between Gypsy and me, trying to convince me to stay with Gypsy. At last he brought up my pregnancy, which eventually convinced me to stay – but just for that night…or so I thought.

When Gypsy was asleep, I texted Priest.

“Please get me out of here!” I sent

“Well, had it been a few weeks earlier, I could have, but at this point I can’t.” He answered

“Why?” I asked

“Well, not only do I have someone else living with me, but I’m not sure how I would transport all of your things, and you – being pregnant – on my bike.”

Crap!‘ I thought. ‘In all my stress I completely forgot that he rode a bike!

I thanked him, and realized what I already knew: I was still trapped.

The next day, I went to school (I was 19 and only had 2 credits left to get my diploma. I was going to finish SOMETHING, by God.) and they pulled me from first period to the Principal’s office. It seems that my growing pregnancy was a distraction to the other students, and the fact I could not find maternity clothes that met the uniform policy put me in violation of it. But I knew the truth – the principal was also a pastor, and did not approve of a high school student having a baby out of wedlock, and they worried that I would be a bad influence on the other students. I was expelled.

DAMN IT! I JUST. CAN’T. WIN. But I can have all the Tuna Alfredo and applejuice that I want now, though, so that’s a plus.

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