The Only Gal
By Ali Banner
I pick his lying ass up at eight o’clock in the evening, just like we planned. He thinks I don’t know, but I do. I know every damned thing. I’d be more inclined to believe his study sessions with Diane were just that if they took place at the library instead of Willy’s Diner over strawberry milkshakes and a shared basket of fries. I’d be more inclined to believe he was faithful if he kept his salty, greasy hands away from her slender, dainty ones.
Oh, I watched them. Every Tuesday and Thursday from 6:30 to 7:45 pm from an out-of-sight booth in the back corner of the diner. Every time she threw back that perfect little head of blonde curls in laughter I wanted to wrap my fingers around her neck.
He opens the car door and scoots into the passenger seat, the new leather crinkling beneath his stout frame as he leans over to give me a quick peck on the lips. “There’s my only gal!” His breath reeks of strawberry.
“Put your seatbelt on, Kenny,” I say as I shift into gear. He just grins and leans back, one arm dangling out the window in the cool night air and a sneakered foot up on the dash.
“You got her lookin’ pretty good.” He admires the sleek black paint reflecting moonlight off the hood of the car. “Your parents sure know how to spoil you, givin’ you a diamond like this one just a week after gettin’ your license. She’s a beaut.”
“At least someone gives me the attention I deserve.”
He swears under his breath. “Come on, Sandra. I’ve told you time and again that Mr. and Mrs. Cameron pay me good coin to tutor their daughter. And believe me, that dumb broad needs it. Diane’s head is as empty as Willy’s tip jar when Velma Mae is waitin’ tables. I gotta keep her interested if I wanna keep my pockets lined.” He flips out a comb and slicks his hair back, checking his reflection in the side view mirror.
My hands grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, but I don’t respond. I stare straight ahead, following the headlights through the darkness. He thinks I don’t know, but I do.
I take a right onto Linden Avenue, a narrow, houseless lane that lies parallel to the town’s main drag but without all the pesky stoplights. It’s quieter and more private, and runs between Willy’s Diner and the Camerons’ split-level over on Jackson Street. I slow to a stop and park beneath a flickering lamppost.
“Well, this isn’t our usual spot, but if you wanna make a man out of me here, I’m not sayin’ no.” He shifts positions and leans close again, but I push him away with both hands. His eyes widen. “What the hell, Sandra?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” My face flushes but the streetlight isn’t bright enough to show my reddened cheeks. “I am not going to let you make a fool out of me in front of everyone!”
He takes a deep breath and locks his gaze into mine. “One last time, Sandra. You are the only gal for me.”
“You promise?”
He nods.
“Then you won’t mind if she disappears forever.”
He arches an eyebrow so I point down the street. Diane is sauntering along the sidewalk a few hundred yards away with her face pointed at the concrete, distracted by the cracks zigzagging under her feet. She has an armful of books and a small purse dangles at her hip.
“How fast do you think she’ll go?”
“What?”
“How fast do you think this car will go?”
“You don’t mean--”
I turn the key in the ignition and my car roars to life. Stupid Diane doesn’t hear it because she’s still mesmerized by the sidewalk.
“Sandra, wait!”
I shift into gear and push the pedal to the floor. The tires spin and squeal as the stench of burned rubber penetrates the air, but my black beauty lurches forward, racing down Linden and jumping the curb until Diane is in range. She finally looks up, the headlights capturing the shock in her eyes and the voiceless scream on her painted lips. Her books fall to the ground but she remains frozen in place, rooted to the sidewalk until the grille of the car plows into her knees.
Her purse flies and spills off to the side as her body rolls over the hood, falling off the trunk and hitting the road below with a resounding thud. I brake hard and black skid marks streak the pavement. I throw it into reverse, braking again after two final, satisfying thumps echo under the tires.
Kenny throws open the passenger door and half falls out of the car as he hurries over to Diane’s lifeless body. “Oh, Jesus! Dammit, Sandra!” He grips his forehead and paces back and forth, his sneakers scratching the pavement as he fights for composure. “What the hell were you thinking?”
I push open the door and step out to examine the front bumper. No damage, thank God. My parents would kill me if I banged up the new car. “You said I was the only gal for you, Kenny. I had to make sure that was true.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Yeah, I did.” He bends over at the waist, resting his hands on his knees, inhaling and expelling deep breaths in meditative rhythm. His breathing levels off and he stands up with a pointed look. “Well, pop the trunk. We’re gonna have to hide the body.”
- - -
Ali Banner is a former English teacher who spent two years living and teaching in Handan City, China. She is currently a student at Full Sail University in the Creative Writing for Entertainment program. She lives in West Virginia with her roommate, Emily, and her poodle, Sparky.
By Ali Banner
I pick his lying ass up at eight o’clock in the evening, just like we planned. He thinks I don’t know, but I do. I know every damned thing. I’d be more inclined to believe his study sessions with Diane were just that if they took place at the library instead of Willy’s Diner over strawberry milkshakes and a shared basket of fries. I’d be more inclined to believe he was faithful if he kept his salty, greasy hands away from her slender, dainty ones.
Oh, I watched them. Every Tuesday and Thursday from 6:30 to 7:45 pm from an out-of-sight booth in the back corner of the diner. Every time she threw back that perfect little head of blonde curls in laughter I wanted to wrap my fingers around her neck.
He opens the car door and scoots into the passenger seat, the new leather crinkling beneath his stout frame as he leans over to give me a quick peck on the lips. “There’s my only gal!” His breath reeks of strawberry.
“Put your seatbelt on, Kenny,” I say as I shift into gear. He just grins and leans back, one arm dangling out the window in the cool night air and a sneakered foot up on the dash.
“You got her lookin’ pretty good.” He admires the sleek black paint reflecting moonlight off the hood of the car. “Your parents sure know how to spoil you, givin’ you a diamond like this one just a week after gettin’ your license. She’s a beaut.”
“At least someone gives me the attention I deserve.”
He swears under his breath. “Come on, Sandra. I’ve told you time and again that Mr. and Mrs. Cameron pay me good coin to tutor their daughter. And believe me, that dumb broad needs it. Diane’s head is as empty as Willy’s tip jar when Velma Mae is waitin’ tables. I gotta keep her interested if I wanna keep my pockets lined.” He flips out a comb and slicks his hair back, checking his reflection in the side view mirror.
My hands grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, but I don’t respond. I stare straight ahead, following the headlights through the darkness. He thinks I don’t know, but I do.
I take a right onto Linden Avenue, a narrow, houseless lane that lies parallel to the town’s main drag but without all the pesky stoplights. It’s quieter and more private, and runs between Willy’s Diner and the Camerons’ split-level over on Jackson Street. I slow to a stop and park beneath a flickering lamppost.
“Well, this isn’t our usual spot, but if you wanna make a man out of me here, I’m not sayin’ no.” He shifts positions and leans close again, but I push him away with both hands. His eyes widen. “What the hell, Sandra?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” My face flushes but the streetlight isn’t bright enough to show my reddened cheeks. “I am not going to let you make a fool out of me in front of everyone!”
He takes a deep breath and locks his gaze into mine. “One last time, Sandra. You are the only gal for me.”
“You promise?”
He nods.
“Then you won’t mind if she disappears forever.”
He arches an eyebrow so I point down the street. Diane is sauntering along the sidewalk a few hundred yards away with her face pointed at the concrete, distracted by the cracks zigzagging under her feet. She has an armful of books and a small purse dangles at her hip.
“How fast do you think she’ll go?”
“What?”
“How fast do you think this car will go?”
“You don’t mean--”
I turn the key in the ignition and my car roars to life. Stupid Diane doesn’t hear it because she’s still mesmerized by the sidewalk.
“Sandra, wait!”
I shift into gear and push the pedal to the floor. The tires spin and squeal as the stench of burned rubber penetrates the air, but my black beauty lurches forward, racing down Linden and jumping the curb until Diane is in range. She finally looks up, the headlights capturing the shock in her eyes and the voiceless scream on her painted lips. Her books fall to the ground but she remains frozen in place, rooted to the sidewalk until the grille of the car plows into her knees.
Her purse flies and spills off to the side as her body rolls over the hood, falling off the trunk and hitting the road below with a resounding thud. I brake hard and black skid marks streak the pavement. I throw it into reverse, braking again after two final, satisfying thumps echo under the tires.
Kenny throws open the passenger door and half falls out of the car as he hurries over to Diane’s lifeless body. “Oh, Jesus! Dammit, Sandra!” He grips his forehead and paces back and forth, his sneakers scratching the pavement as he fights for composure. “What the hell were you thinking?”
I push open the door and step out to examine the front bumper. No damage, thank God. My parents would kill me if I banged up the new car. “You said I was the only gal for you, Kenny. I had to make sure that was true.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Yeah, I did.” He bends over at the waist, resting his hands on his knees, inhaling and expelling deep breaths in meditative rhythm. His breathing levels off and he stands up with a pointed look. “Well, pop the trunk. We’re gonna have to hide the body.”
- - -
Ali Banner is a former English teacher who spent two years living and teaching in Handan City, China. She is currently a student at Full Sail University in the Creative Writing for Entertainment program. She lives in West Virginia with her roommate, Emily, and her poodle, Sparky.
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