Vortex

Without going into great detail, I will just appologize for the delay in posts. I have undergone chemo for the past week and before that was gone to North Dakota...

Anyways, as many of you know, besides being a mother, wife, student, volunteer, coordinator, and mentor - I am a writer. And my best friend, Slavica along with my husband have encouraged me to expand my usual essay to include fiction. Here is the first chapter (unedited...) for a glimpse into a world i have yet to uncover in my imagination. I just type as it comes to me.

VORTEX by Kelly LaFramboise
At first, the glare of the scorching sun piercing its way through the windshield blinded me. I was driving on a busy highway. The painful light forced me to close my eyes. I knew for sure that it was a pretty dangerous thing to do. How the hell was I supposed to drive 70 mph down a curving expressway with my eyes closed?
Tom Petty’s Free Falling was blaring on the radio. I put my left hand up to block the glare, hoping to see the road again. I kept shouting, “Where the hell are my sunglasses?” and “Stupid sun, just go down already!” Between my left hand blocking the sun, and my right hand feeling around the passenger seat for my glasses, I was sure I would crash the car.
Traffic wasn’t bad. It was unusual for 5:00pm. I thought more people would be driving home from work at that time. Maybe they knew something I didn’t. Maybe they saw how annoyingly bright the sun was and decided to wait for dark to drive. Whatever the reason, I was glad to have the road mostly to myself. If I swerved, I wouldn’t risk causing an accident.
By now my boss, Shelia would be calling my house looking for me. My shift started at 4 o’clock. Video Vortex was always busiest on Friday evenings. The place would be buzzing with the monotonous humming of the drones stopping to get a mind-numbing Hollywood remake of Dracula, or some other useless movie to watch after a grueling week at the office. Sheila would have – no doubt – been red in the face and cursing me for not showing up.
I had made up my mind. I wasn’t going back. I wasn’t going to stay in the Podunk, redneck town one more day. I was getting the hell out while I had a full tank of gas, $500.00 in my bank account, a suitcase in the trunk, and a 64oz Mountain Dew from the gas station in the cup holder.
If I didn’t stop, I would reach Chicago by 10:00pm; the city would be all lit up and rushing with nightlife. I had never even been there before, but I was certain that it was more animated at that time of night than Belleville, Michigan was at anytime. I knew from an episode of 60 minutes that Chicago had more residents than the entire state of Michigan. Zander had moved to Chicago a few months earlier. After a painful breakup, we had vowed to never speak again. But that morning he called me.
The sound of his voice on the phone sent chills down my spine. It was a voice I had longed to hear for weeks, but had promised myself never to seek. It was familiar and personal. I wanted him to reach though the phone and hold me. I couldn’t speak. My hands were shaking and my heart felt as though it was stuck in my throat. The room was spinning. The one person in the world that could make me happy had broken my heart months ago. Why was I letting myself listen to him tell me how sorry he was? I couldn’t hang up. He sounded so honest and guilty.
I never spoke. I just listened. His last words were,
“I wish you were here, Anna. I wish you could be with me again.”
After about an hour and a half of wavering between crying; talking to myself; and racking my brain for answers, I was pretty sure I had made up my mind. I didn’t have a reason not to go. I couldn’t think of a single reason I shouldn’t believe he was not sorry or want me back. From the time I had hung up the phone, I already knew I would be packing my bags. I had no plan as to what I would do once I arrived in the city. The only clue I had, was the number on my caller-ID that belonged to “Henry Baths.”
Before tossing my laptop in a tote bag, I did a quick Internet search on the name and phone number.
Henry Baths – (773) 655-9143. First-rate ceramic tile work for all budgets!
Call for same-day estimates! No bath too big, or too small! We tile them all!
Showroom located at 2100 W. Peterson Ave. Chicago, Il 60645.
Nothing, or no one could stop me at that point. Zander still owned my heart. He still held the key to unlock my free spirit. He was my ticket out of that dead, small town.
As desperate as I was to drive faster than the speed limit, my obsessive-compulsive disorder wouldn’t allow me to break any driving laws. It was an annoying personality trait to have – especially in times like this. No matter how urgent the situation, my foot could not accelerate faster than the speed limit. My left-hand-index finger, would (out of necessity), always turn the turn signal on. Without thinking, I always fastened my seatbelt. My driving record was as clean as soap.
My thoughts, on the other hand, were speeding through my mind like a Formula-One racecar in its final laps. What if Zander wasn’t an employee at “Henry Baths?” What if no one there had ever seen or heard of him before? I would be alone in a foreign city with nowhere to turn. Every last ounce of hope in my body was placing bets on Zander being there. He wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t know better. He knew me inside and out. Of course he knew I would come. He knew I couldn’t resist the temptation. He was like a drug, and I was an addict.
Because I was a glutton for punishment, I decided to call my voicemail to listen to Sheila’s fateful words of disappointment.
“Hi Anna. It’s Sheila. Where the hell are you? It is 4:15 and you are nowhere to be found! Get in here! I can’t work a Friday night by myself!”
BEEP
“Anna! Oh my God! Where are you? You better be dead in the morgue or half-dead in the hospital! I am so serious!”

BEEP
“Anna Katherine Edwards get in here right now! I am swamped! You knew ‘Light Jumpers’ was coming out this weekend! This place is crawling with creepy sci-fi freaks, all demanding a copy of it! Why did you choose today of all days to vanish?

BEEP
“Video Vortex does not look favorably on employees who abandon their coworkers on Friday evenings.”
I hung-up before I could listen to anymore. Sheila was probably going to call another ten times before Video Vortex closed. And Zander wasn’t going to call again.
He wasn’t the type to keep calling; he would rather sit and wait for me to show up.
“Be the tenth caller and win two tickets to the biggest, meanest, loudest show in the universe! Monster Mania 2007 – Bone Crusher, Big Foot, Grave Digger, and more! Ten great monster trucks under one roof! Be there or be bored…” the radio seemed to have more commercials than music. But traffic had started to pick up, so I decided against fiddling with the tuner.
To keep myself awake, I tried making phrases out of people’s license plate letters. The best I could come up with was “Plays Video Games 24/7 (PVG 247).” I read every bumper sticker I could see. The funniest one said, “Honk If You Love Aardvarks!” I counted how many red cars I passed between Jackson and Battle Creek. There were 24. Every now and then, a song would play that I could sing along to. But for the most part, my thoughts dwelled on Zander.
What was he doing? Where was he living? Did he still have black hair, or had he changed it to blonde after our break up? He had beautiful, silky black hair. It was cut short on the sides and back, but on top it was long, purposely messy, and fell over his eyes whenever he moved his head. I wondered if he still wore his black-rimmed glasses when he read, or if he ever got contacts. He had thought about it, but never made the commitment.
The time seemed to fly by. I was surprised how quickly I arrived. Chicago was bigger than I ever imagined. The skyline was lit up like a Christmas tree. Taxis were swarming like bees around a hive. Cars were honking for no reason other than to just hear the sound of their own horns. Traffic cops blew whistles even though it was 10:00 at night. The city was beaming with energy. It was like a magnet drawing me in further and further.
It didn’t last long. Before I could soak in all the sights and sounds of Chicago, I was already past the skyscrapers and museums. The city turned from twinkling bright, to dark and creepy. I had to find Henry Baths. I continued to follow the print out of the map I found online.
Henry Baths sat between a sub-sandwich shop and a dollar store. It was dark and empty inside. I wasn’t expecting it to be open. I went into the sub shop to ask for some advice.
“Can you tell me where I can get a hotel room for the night, please?” I asked the clerk. She was annoyed that I wasn’t ordering a sandwich. She rolled her eyes, popped a bubble with her gum, forcibly removed her plastic gloves, and took a deep breath.
“Go left out of here.” She pointed her unusually long index finger at the window facing the parking lot. “Then go about a mile. Heart O’ Chicago Motel is on the right. But you might want to eat first, The only restaurant over there is a White Castle.”
“Okay. Give me a small tuna with lettuce and onion. Thanks for the help” I replied. I wasn’t hungry, but the $2.99 sandwich was worth getting directions to the closest motel.
Heart O’ Chicago was nothing to write home about. I couldn’t have missed it on the road. It had an enormous red and pink neon sign shaped like a heart. It was one of those sleazy motels that people joke about and say, “They rent rooms by the hour.” The man behind the desk asked twice if I was alone. He asked if I would be having any gentleman visitors. Then he threw two dingy white towels at me, and informed me that the ice and vending machines were out of order. After charging my credit card $69.00, he handed me the key to room 111. It was the first room past the office.
Room 111 smelled like old cigarettes and bleach. The bedspread was rust colored and had a huge stain right in the middle. There was a small TV, but I never turned it on. I hung the towels up in the bathroom and flung my suitcase on the little table in the corner by the door. I didn’t even change into my pajamas. I kicked off my shoes, crawled into the uncomfortable bed, and hoped that nothing, or nobody would bother me. I was exhausted. My brain couldn’t process anything more, and my heart couldn’t take any more anxiety over the whole situation.
I must have slept like a rock. I woke up and glanced at the alarm clock to figure out that it was already 9:20am. I was pissed at myself for not waking up sooner. If I didn’t check out of that smelly motel room and get to Henry Baths soon, I would miss my chance of catching Zander. I yanked my hairbrush out of my purse and tried to make the stringy mess look half-way descent. I rubbed a few wrinkles out of my clothes and decided not to even change. I left the room key on the dresser, and escaped to my car.
Jingle Jingle. The bells on the door of Henry Baths alarmed the sales person of my arrival into the showroom.
“Good Morning! Welcome to Henry Baths! What can I help you with today?” the 100 pounds over-weight, middle-aged, big nosed, bald headed man asked.
“I’m here to see Zander Davis” I replied.
“Zander? Why? Did he do something wrong?” He asked, looking rather confused.
“No. Um. He called me yesterday. I just wanted to stop in and say hi.” I didn’t want the man to know I was Zanders ex-girlfriend, coming to look for answers to our difficult and often emotional relationship.
“Oh. Good. I was going to say… He better not have messed up on an installation! Whew! Well. Let me see if he is in the back. He might have already left for his job site. Wait Here.” He waddled like a penguin to the back room. I don’t think he ever saw a treadmill, or a salad a day in his life. I glanced over at the desk he had been sitting at and saw a half-empty box of glazed doughnuts and a super-sized coffee mug filled with more cream than coffee.
My heart was fluttering. My palms were sweaty. I started to bite my bottom lip. That’s what I do when I am nervous. One time I even drew blood. But that was when I was in a play in high school and had the worst case of stage fright ever. The room was spinning. Why did I make that decision? Why was I standing there waiting for the guy that broke my heart into a million pieces?
I turned around and headed for the door. I changed my mind. I wasn’t ready to face Zander. Not yet. Not wearing the same clothes I had worn for the past 24 hours. Not without fixing my hair and putting on new make-up. What was I thinking?
Just as my hand reached for the door handle I felt something grab my wrist. I knew instantly who it was. I didn’t even have to spin around to see. I knew that hand. I remembered all the times it had touched my body. It was like a piece of my heart had returned to its rightful place in my chest. But as hard as I tried to keep going out the door, my feet just wouldn’t move. The spinning of the room, the pounding of my heart, the utter hopelessness I felt in my heart – they all washed over me like a tsunami wave.
“Anna.” Zander called my name like I imagine an angel would sound saying the same word. “Anna.” He repeated.
“Zander, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. Not now. I’m sorry.” I tried to force myself from his grasp. I didn’t want to look up at him. I didn’t want to make eye contact. I stepped back to release from his grip, but he stepped with me.
“Anna. You are here. I am so glad.”
“No. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry. I have to go.” My voice was shaky and sounded like a creaking door.
“Stan! There’s an emergency. I have to go. Tell Adam I will be back later to help with the Anderson installation. Sorry man, but I have to go right now!” Zander yelled to the doughnut eater back at his desk. Stan just waved his hand, not wanting to talk with his mouth full. Zander grabbed my waist and pushed me outside. He led me around the side of the building where there were no windows, or cars.
“Anna.” He said my name again.
I couldn’t reply. He pressed his lips against mine. His hands held my head just behind my ears. It was the kiss I had been missing for months; the kiss I thought I would never feel again.