Mickey Brown pinched a wad of tobacco from his can of Grizzly and stuffed it between his cheek and gums. He replaced the lid, arched a hip in the cramped seat of his Ford Ranger, and slid the can into his back pocket. The truck stereo pumped a Jason Aldean country-rock tune from blown speakers. The coffee he bought at McDonald’s an hour beforehand sat in the cup holder in the center console getting cold. He dumped it out the window to use as his dip cup. He brought it to his lips and spat as he watched the motel across the parking lot.
It didn’t take long before she walked out carrying a small backpack over her shoulder. She was wearing those tiny jean shorts he hated, her hair in pigtails that made her seem younger than her twenty-four years, and a shirt that didn’t make it to her belly button. She stopped at the car Mickey bought her for her sixteenth birthday, an old Nissan, and unlocked it. Threw the bag into the passenger seat and got in. He hadn’t seen her in about two weeks. He hit up every hole in the wall dive bar and seedy motel in the area searching for her until he found this one. The only reason he found her was because he made a short cut to the gas station for a fresh can and happened to see the car parked close to the street.
***
Mickey put the truck in drive and pulled up next to her. He got out of the vehicle and tapped on her window. She looked up at him with a lot more anger than surprise. She rolled down the window.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she said.
“I was about to ask you the same question.”
“The hell do you care?”
“You’re my daughter.”
“So?”
Mickey brought the dip cup to his lips and spat. “You need to come home.”
“I’m not coming home right now. I’ve got shit to do.”
Mickey looked down at her trying to think of a way to get her to go with him but came up blank. He never was any good at talking, especially with her.
“Well, it’s been nice chatting with you, daddy.” The last word came out with a little venom. “But I’ve got to get someplace.”
“Who’s in the room?”
She looked back to the motel room she had just come out of. “Nobody. Don’t worry about it.”
“I want to know.”
“I said don’t worry.”
“Maybe I’ll go have a chat with ‘em.”
The anger in her eyes receded and was replaced by fear. “No. Don’t do that. It’s nobody. Just leave it alone. I’ll talk to you later. Okay? I promise.” She started her car and moved the gear stick to drive.
Mickey watched her for a moment wondering if she drove off would he ever see her again. He turned away and began walking toward the motel room. She wasn’t going to get off so easy this time. He wasn’t just going to take her word for it and slink off back home to wait for her in that empty house. He heard the engine of the car die behind him, the door slam shut and her feet running across the pavement. She grabbed his arm to stop him. Dip sloshed in the cup and splashed out making a splatter pattern on the asphalt.
“Stop. Don’t go in there.”
Mickey faced her. “And why not? What kind of secrets you got in there?”
“Just go home. There ain’t nothing out here for you.”
“Nothing out here?”
“Since when did you give a shit what I was doing? Did all the bars shut down or something and now you ain’t got nowhere to go and nobody to harass?”
Mickey spat in his cup. “Now listen here. You’re my daughter, Lucinda. I’ve got a right to know what the hell it is you’re doing.” He pulled his arm away and marched toward the room. He burst inside, the door slamming against the wall leaving a dent in the drywall from the handle.
A man sat on the bed putting gray socks on his fat feet. A nice pair of loafers sat on the floor next to him. He wore gray dress pants and a white button-up shirt that wasn’t buttoned at the moment. Dark black chest hairs puffed out on his chubby body between the open shirt. He was clean-shaven with wisps of hair on his balding head. He looked like some kind of businessman. He stopped pulling up his socks when Mickey barged in.
“Hey! Wait for the room to be empty before your turn buddy.”
Mickey looked at Lucinda then back at the man getting dressed. “What the hell is this?”
“Come on,” Lucinda said. “Just get out of here and we’ll talk about it later.”
“Wait your turn buddy,” the man said again.
“Are you selling yourself?” Mickey’s heart cracked and his stomach twisted. “Are you?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Last time I’m gonna tell you, friend. Get the fuck out,” the man on the bed said. He now had his shirt buttoned and was standing up.
Mickey looked at him and squeezed his hand into a fist, holding the cup in the other, he slammed that fist into the man’s teeth knocking him backward onto the bed.
The man bounced and grabbed at his mouth. He sat up quickly and looked at the blood on his fingers. Through gritted and bloody teeth, he said, “I’ll have you locked up faster than you can spit that wad out of your mouth, you son of a bitch.”
Mickey went after him again but Lucinda pulled him back by the arm. “Daddy, he’s a judge. Don’t. He’s a judge.”
“A what?” Mickey looked at his daughter. He couldn’t believe what he saw standing there. He couldn’t believe what was happening inside that motel room. He didn’t understand what his daughter was doing. He couldn’t figure out what went wrong in their lives and when it happened. She was a smart young woman. She should be at home studying for college exams or something. Not out in the streets with junkies and losers. He looked at her there pretending to be a young girl but only saw the real young girl. When she was ten and riding her bike through the trailer park where she grew up. Laughing and racing back and forth as he watched from the wooden deck. That smile lit up his world.
Unfortunately, the liquor lit up his world a little more and that was one of the last real memories he had of her that wasn’t them fighting and screaming and slamming doors.
After Lucinda’s mother left with some high school teacher, when Lucinda was fourteen, he had no idea what to do with a girl. So he just let her run around and do whatever she wanted while he went out to the bars and did whatever he wanted. Now here they were. At a motel where his little girl sold herself for money and god knows what else.
Mickey pushed past her and left the motel room. He headed back toward his truck stomping across the asphalt in his dirty work boots with Lucinda running after him. Halfway across the parking lot, he noticed a guy sitting on the hood of Lucinda’s car. He wore jeans and a wife-beater with a flat bill Yankees cap atop his head. He held the backpack that Mickey saw Lucinda with earlier in one hand and a cigarette in the other. A gold chain hung from his neck and big gold rings blinked on his fingers from the morning sun. He slid off the hood when he saw them approach.
“This belong to me?” he asked Lucinda holding up the backpack.
“Yes. It is Derrick. I was on my way to give it to you, I swear.”
“Uh-huh,” he said and took a drag.
“I just got a little tied up here.”
“Derrick?” Mickey asked. “This the same guy you introduced a few months back? Thought you said he was your boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Well, he is my boyfriend.”
Mickey eyeballed him from head to toe. Derrick grinned at him and stuck the cigarette between his lips.
“He’s your pimp.”
“He’s not my…”
“He’s your fucking pimp, Lucinda. What would your mother think? Do you think she would be okay with this? With what you’ve done to yourself?”
“What would mom think? Seriously? You think she gives a shit what I’m doing? She’s probably selling her damn self right now. Who cares what she thinks!”
Mickey pointed a finger in Lucinda’s face. “Watch your damn mouth girl!” He took his daughter by the arm and pulled her close. “Now come on. I’m getting you out of this mess.”
Something hard slammed into Mickey’s eye and before he knew it he was sprawled across the hood of his daughter’s car looking up at Derrick and Lucinda.
“Now hold on there pops. I can’t let you touch my girl like that,” Derrick said standing in front of Lucinda.
He felt the spot where Derrick’s rings scratched him. His fingers came back bloody. “You son of a bitch.” Mickey pushed himself up to his feet a little slower than he would have if he were still in his twenties, the dip cup still in his hand. He reached out to grab Derrick by the shirt but before he could get a hold of him Derrick had a black pistol pulled and shoved in Mickey’s face.
“I wouldn’t do that pops. Now me and Lucy Lou here are going to get in her car and we’re gonna leave here. I suggest you do the same.”
“You ain’t leaving with my daughter asshole.”
“Daddy,” Lucinda started to say something but Mickey kept on.
“I’m gonna take her out of here and if you so much as get in my way so help me God.”
“Fuck you, old man.”
Mickey took Lucinda’s arm again and walked toward his truck. Lucinda struggled to get away but he still had a strong grip at least.
“Let go. Let go of me,” she said.
“Let her go old man.”
Mickey pulled at his daughter and took out his keys and opened the truck door. She continued to struggle and he started to lose his grip.
“Hey old man,” Derrick said. “I said get the fuck off my girl.”
Mickey opened the door and tried to push Lucinda inside but she pulled trying to getaway. The sound of the gun made them both stop. Lucinda watched as her father let go of her and sank to the concrete. Derrick took Lucinda by the arm, the same spot her father was holding and pulled her away.
“Let’s go. Come on. We got to get out of here.”
“Oh my god. What did you do?” Lucinda said staring down at her father on the ground. She didn’t resist Derrick pulling at her arm.
They both got into Lucinda’s car, Derrick in the driver’s seat, and spun tires out of the parking space. Lucinda stared out the window at Mickey laying on the ground, his own eyes staring after them, and his dip cup on its side spilling dark liquid into a pool on the ground.
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