Tarmac
By Asche Keegan
“Do you always strike matches on your shoe?”
Rick glanced over at her. “You ever smoked before?”
“No.”
“Figured.”
He lit his cigarette and took a drag, turning and blowing the smoke into Lilith's face. She scrunched up her nose but didn’t cough, and he stared at her a couple of seconds longer before handing her the match.
It took her a couple tries, but she lit hers too, waving the match out and passing it back to him. She watched what he did and tried to copy it, but when the smoke filled her mouth, suffocating her, she couldn’t stop herself from the coughing fit that followed. He didn’t move, even as she leaned to her knees, retching and gagging.
“Rick, you could’ve warned me ‘bout that part," she staggered out when she could breathe.
“Figured you’d at least seen a couple movies that’d told ya that much.”
“You know I don’t watch movies.”
“Read enough books then.”
“They don’t talk about smoking in the kid's section of the library,” she retorted.
“The one back in Durant?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
There was a moment’s pause, and Lilith coughed again, her lungs burning from the inside out.
“What’s it like?” he asked.
“What’s what like?”
“The library. I’ve always wanted to visit one.”
She glanced over in surprise. “You mean you’ve never been to a library?”
“Nah. Not that big of a deal, but I just wanna know. Now that I’m off to see the world or whatever.”
“Well…” she thought about it a second. “They just got a lot of books everywhere. Shelves and shelves of them. And they have tables set out for people to kind of read or sit down and talk to each other—quietly, of course. We also had newspaper racks and magazines.”
“That sucks.”
“What?”
“Just sounds boring. What do you even do?”
“Read?” she asked.
He shrugged, pulling on his cigarette again. This time he blew the smoke upward, and the two of them watched it whiffing away into the cloudless sky.
“Guess I'm not much of a reader either,” he said.
“Ah.”
“Mhm.”
Lilith glanced over at his backpack, checking again to make sure all the zippers were sealed shut so nothing would fall out. She glanced back towards his face, seeing nothing but his chapped lips. She looked back to the tarmac instead, where Main’s right turn arrow stretched out under her shoes.
A truck roared down the road, hitting every pothole, it seemed. Though Rick stuck his thumb out, it didn’t stop, and the two of them watched it roar away downhill, sending puffs of dust behind it in its wake.
“I did always like the goldfish though,” Lilith said. “We used to tap on the tank and watch them swim around in there. If we tapped on the top though, they’d always come flying upwards, thinking we were giving them food or something.”
“Cool."
“But one day, we came to the library a little earlier than normal—right as the doors opened—and the kid’s librarian was running late or something,” Lilith babbled on. Something about the story made her want to get it out, to keep talking.
“We ran straight to the tank, like we normally do, and one of the fish was just floating on the top of the water.”
Rick shook his head. “Had a couple fish myself. Not a fun moment.”
“Yeah, well when the librarian came over and saw us crying our eyes out, she told us the fish was just sick and needed a doctor or something, and she pulled out a coloring book and some crayons and had us distracted in no time. I'm telling you, librarians should rule the world. But whenever something bad happens, I still think about that fish. Just floating there.”
While she was talking, Lilith had been looking around, fiddling with her hands and the cigarette as if it could change the story. As if somehow it was still alive, happily swimming its little head off.
“Do you have to go?” she asked. “Can’t you just stay here with me one more day?”
He didn’t answer, just rolled up his sleeve, showing off the burns and scars his father had forever tattooed into his skin. “I think you should take another drag of that,” he said, gesturing at the cigarette still in her hand. “It helps take your mind off things.”
Absently, she glanced at it, shaking her head.
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“No, you’re not.”
“‘Where you go, I will go, and where you sleep, I will sleep.’”
“What’s that from?”
She shrugged. “Ruth.”
“Thought you said you weren’t Christian anymore.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a good line.”
He leaned against the fence, the rakish grin she knew him for glancing onto his face before it disappeared again. “Only you, dear. Only you.”
Emboldened, she continued. “We can go to a library first. You can see for yourself what it looks like. Run your hands across the books. At some you can even check out video games and stuff like that. Libraries are good if you’re homeless because you can have fun and spend all day there. Where it’s not too hot or cold.”
“I won’t be homeless.”
“Sure, you won’t.”
“I’ve got connections.”
“Oh, your high school bully gonna let you in to his gang or something?”
“Shut up, Lilith, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do! I’ve seen all this happen before. I know what happens.”
“You’re just scared for no reason.”
“I don’t want you to be the goldfish at the top of the tank, Rick!” she shouted.
The shout echoed off the land surrounding them, and again, Lilith realized how close she was to Rick's face. A larger part of her than she cared to admit wanted him to kiss her, to promise his life, loyalty and happiness. To stay beside her for as long as they both lived.
And Lilith had a feeling that if he did kiss her then, he would stay in this town forever. His dad would keep beating him up, but one day they’d sneak off together to get married and grow old. But every day of their lives, his heart would still be here in this moment, leaning against this fence, thumb stuck out for a ride to a place far away.
He seemed to sense the moment too, and he pulled back. “I’m already the goldfish,” he said. “I’ve been swimming around and around in this cage for my entire life, opening my mouth and waiting to get fed every time somebody knocks on the top of the tank. You might be fine with that, but I just can’t do that anymore, Lilith. I’d rather be dead in the ocean than swimming in circles.”
A bird wheeled above them, and they watched it.
“But we could still go together,” she said weakly. “See the library. All the libraries.”
He fumbled around in his jacket, before pulling out his matchbox. Once again, he removed a match and struck it against his shoe, holding out the flame in front of her. “This is me,” he said. “You can’t put a flame with books, or they’ll burn. We all belong to certain places, and if we try to hard to change that, there’ll be nothing but fires everywhere.”
He dropped it to the tarmac, grinding it under the heel of his boot. She couldn't think of anything else to say that might convince him not to go.
Rick glanced over at her. “You ever smoked before?”
“No.”
“Figured.”
He lit his cigarette and took a drag, turning and blowing the smoke into Lilith's face. She scrunched up her nose but didn’t cough, and he stared at her a couple of seconds longer before handing her the match.
It took her a couple tries, but she lit hers too, waving the match out and passing it back to him. She watched what he did and tried to copy it, but when the smoke filled her mouth, suffocating her, she couldn’t stop herself from the coughing fit that followed. He didn’t move, even as she leaned to her knees, retching and gagging.
“Rick, you could’ve warned me ‘bout that part," she staggered out when she could breathe.
“Figured you’d at least seen a couple movies that’d told ya that much.”
“You know I don’t watch movies.”
“Read enough books then.”
“They don’t talk about smoking in the kid's section of the library,” she retorted.
“The one back in Durant?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
There was a moment’s pause, and Lilith coughed again, her lungs burning from the inside out.
“What’s it like?” he asked.
“What’s what like?”
“The library. I’ve always wanted to visit one.”
She glanced over in surprise. “You mean you’ve never been to a library?”
“Nah. Not that big of a deal, but I just wanna know. Now that I’m off to see the world or whatever.”
“Well…” she thought about it a second. “They just got a lot of books everywhere. Shelves and shelves of them. And they have tables set out for people to kind of read or sit down and talk to each other—quietly, of course. We also had newspaper racks and magazines.”
“That sucks.”
“What?”
“Just sounds boring. What do you even do?”
“Read?” she asked.
He shrugged, pulling on his cigarette again. This time he blew the smoke upward, and the two of them watched it whiffing away into the cloudless sky.
“Guess I'm not much of a reader either,” he said.
“Ah.”
“Mhm.”
Lilith glanced over at his backpack, checking again to make sure all the zippers were sealed shut so nothing would fall out. She glanced back towards his face, seeing nothing but his chapped lips. She looked back to the tarmac instead, where Main’s right turn arrow stretched out under her shoes.
A truck roared down the road, hitting every pothole, it seemed. Though Rick stuck his thumb out, it didn’t stop, and the two of them watched it roar away downhill, sending puffs of dust behind it in its wake.
“I did always like the goldfish though,” Lilith said. “We used to tap on the tank and watch them swim around in there. If we tapped on the top though, they’d always come flying upwards, thinking we were giving them food or something.”
“Cool."
“But one day, we came to the library a little earlier than normal—right as the doors opened—and the kid’s librarian was running late or something,” Lilith babbled on. Something about the story made her want to get it out, to keep talking.
“We ran straight to the tank, like we normally do, and one of the fish was just floating on the top of the water.”
Rick shook his head. “Had a couple fish myself. Not a fun moment.”
“Yeah, well when the librarian came over and saw us crying our eyes out, she told us the fish was just sick and needed a doctor or something, and she pulled out a coloring book and some crayons and had us distracted in no time. I'm telling you, librarians should rule the world. But whenever something bad happens, I still think about that fish. Just floating there.”
While she was talking, Lilith had been looking around, fiddling with her hands and the cigarette as if it could change the story. As if somehow it was still alive, happily swimming its little head off.
“Do you have to go?” she asked. “Can’t you just stay here with me one more day?”
He didn’t answer, just rolled up his sleeve, showing off the burns and scars his father had forever tattooed into his skin. “I think you should take another drag of that,” he said, gesturing at the cigarette still in her hand. “It helps take your mind off things.”
Absently, she glanced at it, shaking her head.
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“No, you’re not.”
“‘Where you go, I will go, and where you sleep, I will sleep.’”
“What’s that from?”
She shrugged. “Ruth.”
“Thought you said you weren’t Christian anymore.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not a good line.”
He leaned against the fence, the rakish grin she knew him for glancing onto his face before it disappeared again. “Only you, dear. Only you.”
Emboldened, she continued. “We can go to a library first. You can see for yourself what it looks like. Run your hands across the books. At some you can even check out video games and stuff like that. Libraries are good if you’re homeless because you can have fun and spend all day there. Where it’s not too hot or cold.”
“I won’t be homeless.”
“Sure, you won’t.”
“I’ve got connections.”
“Oh, your high school bully gonna let you in to his gang or something?”
“Shut up, Lilith, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I do! I’ve seen all this happen before. I know what happens.”
“You’re just scared for no reason.”
“I don’t want you to be the goldfish at the top of the tank, Rick!” she shouted.
The shout echoed off the land surrounding them, and again, Lilith realized how close she was to Rick's face. A larger part of her than she cared to admit wanted him to kiss her, to promise his life, loyalty and happiness. To stay beside her for as long as they both lived.
And Lilith had a feeling that if he did kiss her then, he would stay in this town forever. His dad would keep beating him up, but one day they’d sneak off together to get married and grow old. But every day of their lives, his heart would still be here in this moment, leaning against this fence, thumb stuck out for a ride to a place far away.
He seemed to sense the moment too, and he pulled back. “I’m already the goldfish,” he said. “I’ve been swimming around and around in this cage for my entire life, opening my mouth and waiting to get fed every time somebody knocks on the top of the tank. You might be fine with that, but I just can’t do that anymore, Lilith. I’d rather be dead in the ocean than swimming in circles.”
A bird wheeled above them, and they watched it.
“But we could still go together,” she said weakly. “See the library. All the libraries.”
He fumbled around in his jacket, before pulling out his matchbox. Once again, he removed a match and struck it against his shoe, holding out the flame in front of her. “This is me,” he said. “You can’t put a flame with books, or they’ll burn. We all belong to certain places, and if we try to hard to change that, there’ll be nothing but fires everywhere.”
He dropped it to the tarmac, grinding it under the heel of his boot. She couldn't think of anything else to say that might convince him not to go.
Another truck raced by, missing more or less half of the potholes, and Rick stood, sticking his thumb out. The truck slowed down, window rolling down.
“Lookin’ for a ride?” the driver said in a deep Southern accent.
Rick nodded. “Yes, sir, if you’d be kind enough to offer.”
“Where you going?”
“Dallas.”
“That’s a right ways away.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Both of y’all?”
“No, just me.” He didn’t even glance back at her before he said it. Didn’t even give her a chance to argue.
The driver sized him up. “Well put out the cig and get in the back, and I’ll get you as far as Rockwall.”
He nodded, then turned back to Lilith. “If you don’t mind?”
She handed him the rest of the cigarette, and he pinched it out along with his, carefully putting them both back in his container.
“Guess this is goodbye.”
“You’ll write from time to time, right?”
“We’ll see. Don’t know when I’ll have time to write. I’ll make sure you know I’m alive, though, don’t worry. And remember, I’m not a goldfish.”
“You’re worth a lot more,” she murmured.
He nodded, stepping back and saluting her. “See you later, alligator.”
“After awhile, crocodile."
He hopped in the back of the pickup, offering the driver a thumbs up in the rear view mirror. As the truck sputtered away, picking up speed, Lilith waved until it was out of sight.
“Love ya, Rick,” she called, even though no one heard except the birds. And even though no one but the fence saw her pick up the remains of the match, she cradled it in her hands as she walked the tarmac back towards home.
