Page 12 of Grease's Guide

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Page 12 of Grease's Guide

Two, no matter where I am, I’m thinking about you. Please know I'm always thinking about you.

And Three, I love you with every fiber of my being. I always have. Since day one Grease, and I will love you for the rest of my life.

XOXO Yours,

Lyra “Becky”

I drop the letter, and it falls to the floor from my fingertips. I feel wetness drip down my face. I don't realize what it is until I wipe my eyes.

“FUCK!!!!” I roar. The woman I love with everything in me loved me back? For years, she loved me back, and I just sat there throwing jabs and jokes her way constantly. I should have told her. I should have said it with a straight face, so she knew I meant it. I should have done so many things, but…. Would it have mattered? If I had said it, would she still have been distant? So much new information overflowing my brain. I need a fucking cigarette. I sit holding the note in one hand and the bear in the other. Sitting here, I go over the words again and again in my head. I do the same thing as I shower and then again as I walk the halls, heading outside for a smoke.

I'm just about to throw the bud into the trash can when a thought occurs. Thinking back on all those times with Lyra, I realize… she was always giving. She was never selfish. She asked nothing of us. She wanted nothing from us. Only a job and to watch the kids. On multiple occasions, she put herself in harm's way to save those children. After learning about her mom, I see where she got it from. It seems Lyra and Tizzy have no one but each other. They have given so much to people who neverdeserved it, which ends now. I will find my woman and give her the life she deserves.

With that new resolution set in place I swing open the door and head down the hall toward Church. I just enter the door to realize everyone is already there, and I’m the last one. I’m about to take my seat when the next words fill the room and my stomach with unbelievable tension.

“We’ve got her!”

Chapter Ten

Becky

“Faster, mama, faster!!” I yell as I turn to look out of the back window, seeing how much of a head start we might have gotten.

“I'm going as fast as I can, sweet cheeks! This thing only goes fifty miles per hour downhill, and that's with the wind blowing up my tailpipe!” she screeches, bouncing in her seat, trying to make the car go faster.

“Well, it might have helped if you grabbed something other than the clown car!” I yell, wondering how she got put in charge of the getaway car.

“There were no other cars near us! And especially none with the keys already in the dang thing. We were just lucky the show was getting ready for this skit! Otherwise, we would have had to try to charm those polka dots, and you know how touchy they can get,” she mumbles again, looking in the rearview. Just as I'm about to reply, headlights flash behind, not just one set either… a lot of headlights.

“They’re gaining mama!” I cry, hitting the dash like that might help.

“Well, you screeching like a well-tuned rooster ain't doing no good.”

“What does that even mean?!” Again, I screech.

“IT MEANS STOP SCREECHING AT ME!”

“I CAN'T SEEM TO MAKE IT STOP!” I truly can't. I’m hyperventilating. I’m filled with excitement. I got to see him. He was looking for me. He was coming for me. Also, though, what the heck are they doing? It's been three months! I figure they would have found out what I did by now and just write me off.

“We are almost to the interstate. I might be able to lose them in the traffic,” Mama says, but I'm doubtful. I’ve seen these men ride and watched them constantly being aware of their surroundings. I have a strong feeling we ain't losing them.

Mama pushes the pedal to the metal, but it does no good. We are on a long stretch of road, at least several minutes from the interstate. These are country roads, so they are nearly always empty anyway, but it's also after nine on a weekday, so no hope of help. I look at Mama again, see her staring at the motorcycles, and then notice it.

“Why are you slowing down?” At this point, I think I’m screeching on purpose.

“I-I’m not!” she stutters, then pushes down on the pedal again, but definitely not to the floorboards.

“Yes, you are! You are slowing down! What is going on, Mama?” I narrow my eyes.

“Umm, like you said, there's no way to outrun them.” She winces, and I can't believe it. I put my hands in my hair, pulling at the roots, trying to think through the shock and confusion.

“You're letting them catch up? Aren't you? Oh my lanta! I can't be…” A thought hits me, and I pause the assault on my poor,lavender-colored hair. I turn back to her and once again narrow my eyes.

“Mother…” I pause.

“Oh no, not that tone. You always mean business when you use that tone. Lord help me,” she whispers, shrinking into herself while still trying to see over the steering wheel.

“Did you pick this car on purpose because you knew it wouldn't be as fast?” I ask, narrowing my eyes even further. Much more, and I won't be able to see.




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