Page 34 of Rage's Solace
When I walk into Mia’s room my heart breaks. She has so few little kid items and no décor on her walls, I wouldn’t say it’s a prison cell but seeing how she’s already made her room at mine look cozy, it’s heart breaking to think she lived in thisstark white room. I remember Priscilla saying Conrad didn’t like her room to be junked up. Well fuck that dead bastard because I’ve crammed her room full of useless shit that little girls like. I walk over and dump the pillow out of the pillowcase and begin filling it with her stuff. She’s got a little jewelry box, some stuffed animals, and figurines of cats all lined up on a shelf. I take everything I can get my hands on with my club brothers silently watching me. If she doesn’t want these reminders of her old life, then we can give them to Goodwill or something.
I move to the master bedroom, and it’s weirdly separated into two halves. One is masculine and the other is feminine. On Priscilla’s half there’s a space where a computer used to be. I can tell because the cables were left behind. I grab her jewelry box, which isn’t much larger than Mia’s, and throw it into my pillowcase. Tex grabs another pillowcase and holds it out while I start filling it to the brim with all Priscilla’s personal effects. I open her closet and seriously don’t know what to take because it’s mostly demure clothing for a life she doesn’t live anymore. I’m just about to leave the walk-in closet when Tex kicks something metal.
“You want me to grab the safe? It’s probably got her important paperwork inside.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
On the way out I shine my flashlight over the nightstand drawer on Conrad’s side and see that he has lots of embarrassing things hidden there, porn, Viagra, and lotion in addition to his rolodex and some expensive looking cufflinks. I slam the drawer shut and don’t say a word, because I refuse to continue to let this asshole and his peculiarities live rent free in my head.
We take the personal property we’ve reclaimed for Priscilla and Mia and hit the road, strapping it to the back of our bikes. It’s all kinds of awkward but worth it. It infuriates me that these females I care so much about can stow all their worldly possession in two jumbo size pillowslips. Conrad’s family is wealthy. Why they were too stingy to spend on Priscilla and Mia is beyond my ability to reason.
***
We pull up at my place almost an hour after leaving their old house and my club brothers help me unload our haul and set the stuff just inside the front door. We say our goodbyes and they head off home. It’s around eight in the evening and I smell something tasty. I wander through the house, following my nose to the kitchen to find Priscilla removing chicken from a roasting pan, ready to put in the refrigerator.
I lean over and inhale, “Umm, lemon chicken?” I ask.
She nods, “I thought you’d be late, so me and the girls have already eaten. Want me to warm some back up for you?”
I shake my head, reach into the roaster and rip off a chunk of white meat with my hands. She watches me bite off a large piece and comments, “You’re acting like a real caveman tonight.”
I walk off my piece of chicken, motioning for her to follow. “I feel like a caveman because I’ve been hunting and gathering for you tonight.”
“What in the world does that even mean?” she asks with a quizzical look on her face.
I don’t need to answer because the moment she sees the safe that was hidden away in her walk-in closet, she rushes forwardand falls to her knees in front of the pillowcases. “Oh my God! You brought stuff from our old house.”
I sit down on the bench in my foyer and continue eating my chicken while she unties the pillowcases.
“I cleaned out Mia’s room and grabbed as much as I could from your side of the bedroom. I didn’t know if you’d want the reminders, but thought I’d let you and Mia decide. One of my club brothers noticed the safe and we somehow managed to wrestle it onto the back of his Harley.”
She tears up, but I wave my piece of chicken to get her attention. “No crying Prissy girl. Those Whitmore bastards wouldn’t give you your shit, so I took it. If they’ve got a problem with that, they can take it up with me and my club.”
She gives me gigantic hug before running to the bottom of the stairs and calling for Mia. She comes down with her two friends looking all kinds of confused. “What’s up?”
Priscilla waves Mia over. “Rage stopped by our old house and grabbed a bunch of our stuff. Come, let’s see what he brought.”
Mia can’t get to the pillowcases fast enough. Delighted is the word I’d use to describe her expression. “It feels like Christmas morning, only I don’t have to worry about not liking my gifts because I’m the one who picked them out.”
The other two girls kneel down beside her and help her open and gently empty the pillowcases.
The first thing Mia grabs is a weird white, half-bald stuffed cat. She hugs the toy to her chest and starts crying.
Her mom explains, “This was a gift from an aunt who passed away. She gave it to Mia when she was born, that tatty cat used to go everywhere with Mia.” Turning to me, she says, “Thank you, Rage. Getting back Whiskers means so much to her.”
Trying to lighten the mood I respond lightly, “I got your jewelry cases too.”
They get excited about that and open the other pillowcase to claim their girly trinkets. Pride blooms in my chest that I’ve managed to get some justice on their behalf. It’s the very least they deserve for everything they’ve had to endure.
Priscilla’s chicken is finger-licking good, so I grab another piece while I watch them divvy up their possessions. Mia’s friends make a big deal about her little crystal cat collection. They help her carry her stuff upstairs and when her bedroom door closes, we can no longer hear their laughter.
I watch Priscilla neatly pack her stuff back into one of the pillowcases and turn her attention to the safe. I come over and pick it up. “Want me to put it on the dining room table, so you can get to it better.’
She nods, all smiles. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for us. We don’t have much, but there are some things of sentimental value that can never be replaced.”
“I’m glad to be of service, Prissy. You deserve to have all your nice things.”
I watch as she dials in the correct combination and scans her finger across the scanner. The safe pops open and I’m shocked that there’s a bundle of cash stowed inside. She reaches inside and takes it out. When she hands it to me, I can see that itsays ten thousand dollars on the paper band. “Here you go, repayment for all the nice things you bought us.”