J. Huss - PANIC

“She’s running blind right now. She wants to do something, anything to erase what she was. So to prove to herself that she’s not the same girl who put up with that life for three years, she’s ready to jump on just about every opportunity that comes her way.”

“I’m not breaking up with her.”

Silence.

I lift my head and look over at Ford. “I’m not gonna do that. I’ll back off, I’ll give her space, I’ll support her decisions, but I’m not breaking up with her.”

Ford shrugs. “I’m not asking you to. She’ll check out soon, though, Ronin. Write this down. She’s not ready for you. She’s not ready for anyone right now. What she needs is to start over. She needs to figure out who she was before Jon came along if she’s to have any hope of figuring out who she is now.”

“Is that your professional opinion, then? We done here?”

“Not quite. That ex-boyfriend is in town.”

“Who?”

“Wade Minix, a boy from her childhood. Spencer said she lived with him as a teen in a foster family. This guy was her first boyfriend, or love, or something. His mother got worried when the relationship started getting serious and sent her back into the system. After that her status as ward of the State of Illinois goes cold. I figure Jon picked her up soon after. Before the Minix family she was in twelve other foster families.”

“Yeah, she told me this part. Not good ones, either.”

“Not good is an understatement. Almost of all them have been stripped of fostering privileges.” Ford gets up and grabs a folder off the kitchen counter, then takes his seat and opens it up. “Rook Camille Corvus entered the foster care system at age five when she was found wandering the streets of Chicago barefoot in the middle of January. She didn’t speak to anyone for months and when she finally gave up enough information to determine who her mother was, it was too late. The woman had OD’d and was already a cremated body in an unmarked grave. I could go on, but if you use your imagination, I’m sure you can fill it all in. She never got involved in drugs, prostitution, had any illegitimate babies, or did porn.” He stops to laugh. “Until you guys, that is.”

“Fuck. You.”

Ford smiles one of his evil grins. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But as I was saying, Wade Minix is in town. He hasn’t contacted her from what I can tell. I saw him wave at her at the show up in Sturgis. He followed her all over the strip the day of the show. Then ended up standing in the front row that—”

“What? How come you didn’t tell me this?”

“Because Rook never responded to his wave and never made any move to reach out to him. She ignored him. But I’m telling you now because he’s back. And I think she should reconnect with Wade.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do.”

“Well, Ronin, he’s gonna get his chance to speak to her no matter what you do. Face that fact. He’s here, he’s here to see her, and he’s not leaving until he does. So you might as well just embrace it. Because you can’t stop it, that’s for sure. And if you make a big deal about it, she’ll just do it anyway. And she’ll break up with you because you forced her to make a choice.”

I hate it when Ford’s right. “So I’m just supposed to sit down and shut up? That’s what you’re saying?”

“Yes. This is not about you, it has nothing to do with you, in fact. She likes you, that’s for sure. Otherwise she’d take that money, buy herself a car, and be on the road to anywhere but here. Because that’s just how she works. I call her type the Leaver.”

Ford and his fucking labels. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that. She’s got no fear of the road. I could tell that immediately. What kind of teenager gets on a bus alone knowing she’ll be homeless when she steps off? She’s not afraid to chuck it all and start again.”

“Exactly. And I’ll go one further. She told me she had no intention of getting off the bus in Denver. She was on her way to Vegas but she thought fate was sending her a message via South Park and got off on a whim. No plans, no home, no money, no friends, and no prospects. She stepped into the unknown because of a fucking cartoon. Now she has all of those empowering things and more, how hard would it be for her to just leave now? If you pressure her, she’s gone.”

I hold my head in my hands, trying to stave off the headache with a last-ditch brow pinch.

“Just give her some freedom, Ronin. I’ll keep an eye on her up at Spencer’s place.”

I get up and walk to the door, then stop. I don’t turn and say it to his face, but I say it just the same. “Thanks, Ford. And dude, just so you know, I’m sorry. About… Mardee.” I don’t wait for an acknowledgment, I just plaster a smile on my face and walk through back into Rook’s birthday party. 

“Did you have a nice birthday, Rook?” Ronin unzips my dress and I wriggle out of it, just an itty-bitty bit drunk. He laughs as I wobble. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Once the dress is gone all I have on are my panties. I watch helplessly as Ronin hangs the gown up. “This was the best birthday of my life. And thank you so much for the camera. You did not have to do that for me. But I love it. I’m gonna start filming tomorrow and I’ll never stop. Ever.”

That camera is like something else. It looks like a mini-version of the cameras the film crew use for the show. I have no idea how to use it but how lucky am I? I have a film team at my disposal to teach me. I smile at this as Ronin guides me over to the bed and pushes me until I sit down. Once I get some momentum going it’s hard to stop and I end up lying all the way back.

“I’m drunk,” I say, laughing.

The lights go out and then Ronin’s bare skin slips up next to my own. “I know. It’s a good thing we had mind-blowing sex before the party.” He nuzzles into my neck and pulls me close to him, just like he does every night. “I love you, Rook. I hope you know that.”

I sigh into his perfect muscular chest and then trace my fingertips down the length of his stomach. “I know that.”

And that’s it for Rook. My night is over.

I wake early, dying of thirst. I swallow down my cotton mouth and disentangle myself from Ronin.

“Where’re you going, Gidget?” he asks groggily.

“Water,” I croak.

I get up, slip on a dirty t-shirt draped over a chair near the window, and pad out to the kitchen and grab a bottled water. I gulp it all down and then fill it back up with the tap water and do it again. My gaze wanders over to the dining room table and I spy my presents. I have no memory of carrying them upstairs, but here they are.

I got a bunch of stuff. Some clothes, girly hair accessories, and some sapphire earrings from Elise and Antoine. A journal and two tickets to the opera from Ford and his pet. Spencer gave me a custom-painted black leather biker jacket with zippers. It has Gidget painted down one arm and Blackbird down the other. Like each of these men have made a claim on me. The back of the jacket is a giant blackbird logo with the words Shrike Fucking Bikes painted inside a red circle that surrounds the bird.

Even Veronica got me a gift. A gift certificate for a free tattoo at her shop up in Fort Collins.

But it was Ronin’s gift that touched my heart.

The camera. A camera I can make movies with. I open up the box and start unpacking. It’s got interchangeable lenses. I don’t know a whole lot about camcorders, but I do know that it’s not normal to be able to change lenses on them. Which means this camera is a BFD. When I check the clock it’s only five fifteen AM. I do a search for my phone and find it on the little table over my the front door, and then call Ford.

“Miss Corvus, we do not have a date this morning.”

I laugh. “I know, Ford. But I’m looking at my camera that Ronin got me and I want to start filming now. I have things to capture before I leave this place. Can you come help me set it up?”

“Did you charge the battery last night?” he asks with doubt.

“Um, no,” I say, disappointed.

“OK, well, I’ll grab a camera and bring it to you. How’s that?”

Happiness overtakes the disappointment. I guess he’s serious about this friend stuff. “Thank you.”

“Meet me on the terrace in fifteen minutes.”

I wash up, change into some jeans and one of the Shrike Rook shirts Spencer made for me, and then pull on my red Converse shoes. I keep waiting for these things to fall apart, but they never do. They have holes in the top near the toe and there’s even a little hole in the bottom of the left one. So my feet totally get wet in the rain. But I don’t care. Besides the backpack I left my last foster home with, these ratty shoes are the last thing I own from my life before Jon. I take it as a sign that the old me is still around. Somewhere.

By the time I get to the terrace Ford is ready. He’s got a camera like mine upstairs and he’s pointing it at me as I walk towards him.

“You’re up, Rook. I’m your cameraman. Say what’s on your mind.”

“Oh, now I’m nervous.” I giggle. “OK, well, I just want to show…” I stop and take a deep breath and start again. “I just want to capture what’s happened to me. What this place did for me and how it all started.”

“All what started, Rook?” Ford asks from behind the camera.

“The journey back.” He says nothing to this, just waits for me. “The journey back to myself.” And then I point to the swing. “And it all started right there.” I walk over to the swing and take a seat. “It started under these trees last spring. When they were filled with flowers and they smelled so incredible, the scent was almost overwhelming. And the very first night I spent here at Chaput Studios Ronin pushed me in this swing.” I look up at Ford and he’s smiling. I lean back and kick my feet out in front of me, pumping my legs to gain some momentum to push myself in the swing.