Joyride

Note: Bloody in many parts - Part 7

Choices. I had many taking into account the thirty plus years I spent on this planet. I could easily point out bad from good and black from white. There was this invisible demarcation line planted in my brains that separates angels and demons, morally good and evil, right and left.

I was the perennially good girl. Trust me.

But no one in school told me that temptation could sometimes get tired taking the forms of a crispy P500 bill, a cold-blooded murder, or a Rated R movie. It became quite predictable I could even see it breathe through its pores and fend off its advances before it could get to me. Somehow the devil himself subtly learned to do his homework. I almost failed to tell how an innocent exchange of glances with a seemingly harmless charmer named Bloody cost me my peace and sanity. Every unexpected meeting with him for the past three months seemed to escalate from bad to worse. My steel-like resolve melted under his hypnotic gaze and I heard myself agree to his invitation to take me out. A joyride as he bluntly put it.

So I tucked conscience somewhere inside the trunk to silence it and threw away the keys and cautions to the wind.

While Bloody chuckled at the idea of having me all by himself, I was busy forming conversation fillers that would take his attention off whatever plans he had set to do and keep his mind (and hands) on the wheel. When I learned that he knew how to speak Japanese, we conversed in bloody Japanese for the next 30 minutes. It so occupied his mind that he forgot the reason why he strapped me to the seat next to him in the first place.

We arrived at the terminal an hour before midnight and I came out of the van unscathed. My role as the other woman came with this sneaky instruction, “Please wait for me at the stall down at the corner. Order whatever you want. I’ll go park the van.”

So there I was reprising the role of the other woman, hiding in the shadows. A soft touch on my back snatched me back to my present reality of a counter girl gawking at me and Bloody breathing down my neck. I wasn’t really sure whether to go forward, backward or sideways. I asked him to buy me a cold drink and pulled myself away to the nearest vacant table.

While Bloody served my food and drink, I tried to remain conscious on what to do on the next hand movement. He asked me to share his food by eating on the same plate using his spoon. There was something about it that was plainly seductive and violated my basic form of hygiene. Was the recession this bad that I had to eat on his plate and share his spoon on a dinner date? He laughed quietly to himself. I dug out my cell phone and started replying to about five unread messages. I wasn't even done texting when I felt his arm wrap tightly around me. If I had to believe the reincarnation, Bloody was an octopus in his past life. But given his loose morals, he was probably a small-time squid.

“Stop texting. You should eat.” He kissed me lightly on the head and let me go. His eyes were laughing.

He paid the bill and I went back to his van parked at the terminal. It was already full of late night passengers. There was this guy occupying my front seat and I took my place beside him and the door. Bloody came along a few minutes after and chatted briefly with the barker while he kept a close eye on me. With this burly guy blocking our view, we never had a chance to speak. I closed my tired eyes while the bloody van sped down the empty highway.

I came back to my consciousness when all the passengers, including that guy between us, stepped out at the next terminal. Then Bloody held my hand.

“Can I see you tomorrow night?” His calloused hand pressed my cold hand hard, almost crushing it. “Just wait for me at the terminal. I’ll be there. Please?”

He pleaded like a man who was about to die.

“Please?” There was something urgent, desperate, careless and stupid about his plea. I don’t know was the only safe answer I gave his wish. I feared looking straight into his eyes and be found lying. He pulled over and I reached for the door. I stepped into the night and walked away trembling.

The truth we both seek was written all over me.