Four Paths with Bigfoot

Chapter 3 I Might Die Silently

"Fucking assholes!"

 "Everyone is a fucking asshole!"

Fort's bass toned voice bellows with malice.

He rolls down the driver's side widow as he speeds up beside the road transgressor.

Nicey pulls her winged black rimmed  with violet lenses sunglasses.

She looks unfazed.

Imagining she is dancing on the hills of Ankara, a priceless memory.

Feeling grateful she had experienced it at all.

"Suck my dick motherfucker!"

Violently shaking his middle finger at occupants of the vehicle next to him.

Fort's idea of justice on the road was basically anyone who was not him breaking the rules. According to him he was the most just and sensible driver, but what he could not take was the stupidity of others on the road.

As a captive of this experience Nicely closed her eyes.

Early on she would question his driving etiquette, urge him to calm down.

"Babe, just drive on. I know that person was being an idiot, but the best thing about being in a car is that you get to just drive away from that, you know."

Such an enabler she was.

Should have been a deal breaker.

She should have never shown her hand like that at all.

When Nicey would attempt to explain to Fort, a grown man,  just how much these outbursts frightened her...

Outburst.

When she begged him not to conduct himself like that in the area she worked in, as she would be the one to have to bear the brunt. 

What if some of her  students' parents recognized her or worse one of her preschoolers?

Outburst.

"Don't try to control me, I do not give a shit about what these rich assholes think, why are you always trying to impress them? They don't care about you. They don't respect you. They're probably ALL racist!"

"You're right Fort, I'm sorry."

Nicey neither believed that Fort was justified, nor was she sorry.

But she knew better.

Any perception of betrayal by her would  lead to a transference of rage towards her. Whatever, he may have felt about the person who cut him off or flipped him off would be re-routed in Nicey's direction.

He would accuse her of:

 "Not supporting him,"

"Siding with the enemy,"

"Dissing him,"

"Purposely trying to just piss him the fuck off, just for fun."

Even when he was trying to "do something nice," somehow she would end up feeling like shit.

A few days ago, after the first job interview she had had in months, Fort offered to buy pizza.

Give her a break from cooking dinner.

She was happy not to cook.

Pizza?

It did not matter, it was the gesture that was important.