Intrusive Thoughts

379 19 1
                                    

To my sisters: No matter how bad things got for me, you were always there.

The day was hot as I watched Bubba Coldwren use the heavy hooks to attach the thick cables to the rusted out wreck of the car. I sat on the back porch, a bowl of ice next to me that I'd put some cans of iced tea into to keep them cold.

"Rennie told me you had surgery last week," Bubba said, straightening up and wiping his brow. He'd had to use the shovel to dig out the lift points on the rusted chassis.

"Ayup," I tossed him one of the ice cold cans. "Drink up."

"Thanks, Texas," He said. He leaned against the wreck, taking off his head and rubbing the cold can on his sweaty forehead.

"You gonna haul that thing onto the flatbed?" I asked, waving at the truck. It had hydraulics to tilt the bed until the end reached the ground so that it was easy to pull something up onto the truck to haul away.

"Naw, not yet," Bubba said. The big man looked a little uncomfortable, looking around.

"All right, what's up, Bubba?" I asked him. I lit a cigarette, coughing on the first drag.

"Sure you should be smoking that, Texas?" Bubba said carefully, putting on his hat and cracking the can of tea.

I frowned at him. "Not you too?"

"Spare one?" He asked me, obviously trying to change the subject.

Bubba seemed mighty concerned with my well being.

I nodded, handing him the pack of cigarettes and the lighter. He lit one, handing back my fixings, before he looked around.

"Ya done a helluva job on this here place, Texas," Bubba said through a cloud of smoke.

I put out my cigarette, my chest aching, nodding to the big man. "Thanks. Lot of sweat in it."

Bubba nodded. He looked a bit uncomfortable, checking his watch as I sat there silently watching him.

"What's up, Bubba?" I finally asked him after he stubbed out his cigarette.

He sighed. "Rennie asked me to keep an eye on you till she got back."

I smiled. "Ah, makes you bit uncomfortable to feel like yer not being straightforward with me, eh?"

Bubba nodded, looking relieved. "Yeah. She said not to tell ya, but... she's been gone a bit."

"Where did she go?" I asked. I put my hand on the railing and lifted myself up, clumsy because of the traction brace on my leg. I stood up slowly, leaning heavily on the cane. My knee ached, itching deep inside where it was healing.

"To talk to my sister," Bubba said, an odd tightness in his voice. "They used to be friends."

"Family issues. I understand," I told him. I  gimped over to the back door and opened it. "Come on in, Bubba. We'll sit at the kitchen table and drink iced tea."

"I'll get the bowl after I pull the wreck up onto the truck," Bubba said, moving over to the controls on the bed.

I could hear the whine of the electric winch as I thumped my way into the kitchen.

I hated it. All of it. The leg brace, the tightness in my chest, the deep aching pain keeping me from moving easily. I hated how I was two cunt-hairs from being an invalid. I loathed the weakness I could feel in my body. It was disgraceful, it was...

I dug in my pocket, pulling out a bottle of medication. As I opened it i could see the typing on the label.

For Intrusive Thoughts - Take As Needed

NobodyWhere stories live. Discover now