Christopher E Long – Fiction

The Bracelet

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who shop at Target and those who prefer Walmart. Lady is a Target person, so she’s pretty sure that’s why Dustin arranged this meeting in a Walmart parking lot. Asshole. She pulls into the open spot next to his rusty Ford. The truck’s passenger-side door opens from the inside. She hesitates for just a moment before slipping out of her car and into the truck in one seamless motion, like it was rehearsed. She settles into the seat as Dustin reaches across her and pulls the door shut. He smells like menthol cigarettes and latex. When he pulls his arm back, she notices the plastic Batman bracelet on his wrist.

“I’m hoping we can be adults about this,” he says.

She produces a roll of cash. He reaches for it, but she pulls it back out of his reach. “When did you get that?”

“What?”

“The bracelet.”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Batman? Really?”

“I like Batman. So what?” Dustin says.

Lady snorts. “You know who else likes Batman? Snotty-nosed kids.”

He leans forward and snatches the money from her. He counts it. “Where’s the rest?”

He holds the wad of money up to her face. “This is only six hundred.”

“Did you or did you not tell me to sell it, and we’d split it?” He stares at her, his nostrils flaring. “I unloaded the equipment cheap, rock-bottom prices, and this is half.”

“You sold all that medical equipment for twelve hundred bucks?” He stuffs the cash into his pocket. “So much for being adults.”

“Speaking of not being an adult, why Batman?”

“Why do you care?”

Lady nods her head as if coming to realize the error of her ways. “What’re you going to do?”

“I’ve got something cookin’ in Logan. I’m heading there now.” He retrieves a pack of menthol cigarettes from the center console and shakes one loose, taking it between his lips.  He glances at her. She’s staring at something. He follows her gaze to the bracelet. “What?”

She shakes her head. “I just can’t get over that bracelet.”

A vein like an earthworm bulges at Dustin’s temple. He removes the bracelet and slams it on the dashboard. “You just can’t let anything go, can you?”

Something on the inside of the bracelet catches her eye. She picks it up and takes a closer look. Written in black marker is Dirty D. “Did you write this?” Lady spits the words, holding the bracelet between finger and thumb as if it’s an earthworm. “Are you Dirty D?” Dustin snatches the bracelet out of her fingers. “Who gave you that nickname? You? You can’t give yourself a nickname, especially one as lame as Dirty D.”

He slips the bracelet over his hand and adjusts it, so Batman is centered on his wrist. He holds his arm up and inspects the bracelet, making sure it rests on his wrist just so. “We’re done.”

She snorts. “No shit.”

“You can have the Edwards job. It’s yours,” Dustin says.

“It’s a two-man job. I can’t do it alone.”

He turns the ignition, and the truck starts with a rumble. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. That’s never been your problem.”

“It’s a huge job, and you’re just gonna leave it on the table?” She turns and stares at him. Long and hard. She knows if he turns to look at her, he’ll bend to her will. He always does. But he doesn’t look at her. He stares out the windshield. Her eyes are drawn to the bracelet. She can’t shake it. She doesn’t know if she’s bothered more by him wearing it or that he purchased it on his own, living a life separate from her. “You’re fifty-one years old, and you’re wearing a child’s bracelet!” she yells.

“Bye.”

After a moment, there’s nothing left to do but get out of the truck and get back in her car, so that’s what she does. She watches him drive away. A plume of dark exhaust erupts from the tailpipe, causing the trunk to lurch. She considers going into Walmart to get a few things but remembers she’s a Target person. Walmart simply won’t do. Asshole.