Catch Me When I Fall

All His Friends

"C'mon, you sack of s**t," Karla pleaded with the old truck. She had hooked up the jump box, but after several minutes of trying to charge it, the alternator still wasn't producing enough voltage to start the engine. Pulling out her phone, she called the only person in town that could possibly help her: her husband.

After getting her call declined twice, Ricky finally answered, "What's up? I told you I was hanging out with the guys tonight."

"My truck won't start. Can you come to the store to give me a jump? Please?"

"I've been drinking, but I guess if you want me to get a DUI, I can take Tony's car out there," Ricky said, annoyed.

"No one there hasn't been drinking, that can just give me a jump? It'll take 5 minutes, just so I can get home."

"You have roadside assistance, don't you? Just call them, that's what you pay for, to assist you on the roadside?"

"But I—" Before she could plead her case to her husband, the line went dead. She didn't have an available balance on her credit card to pay for it, and to get reimbursed by her insurance later. Her parents had moved out of town, only coming up for a visit every so often. Her father, being a mechanic, would be more valuable than roadside assistance if he were not over 1,600 miles away. Her amicable ex, who was working on Ricky's car, had business hours and didn't have his personal number. And, quite frankly, would not feel comfortable asking for his help with all the help he had already given her. Weighing her options, she lay down on the bench seat of the pickup, staring at the sagging headliner, once a brilliant sapphire blue, now a faded grey-blue from the years of use and sun exposure.

Karla woke with a start, unsure of when she had fallen asleep, but checked her phone to see it was nearly three in the morning. Her phone was at 16%, her shift started in almost four hours, she was still in her clothes from yesterday, and the parking lot was all but abandoned. Her truck and the street sweeper were the only two vehicles in the lot. She was hungry, unable to eat anything from home, not having enough money to get something to eat before anything closed, and had choked down the stale package of crackers that had been in her purse for far too long. She hadn't taken her medication before bed, and didn't know when she would be able to if she couldn't go home before work. It was supposed to be a relaxing morning for her; she could have the bed to herself, only sharing a small part with Merry. Instead, she was chilled, curled up, and using a sweater as a blanket, her purse as her pillow in the empty lot of Dollar-Mart.

Today isn't going to be good... If anyone gets smart with me, I'll be lucky if I walk away without any assault charges today. Karla could deal with the irritability, being short-tempered and impatient. But when her depression decided to take hold of her, she was afraid of what her mental state would be. Would passive suicidal thoughts turn into plans, exit strategies? Best-case scenario, she would be a bit out of it for the day. There, physically, but mentally, everything would be a blur, a haze she couldn't quite get out of. She started to nod off once more, almost asleep when her phone rang, "Hello?"

"Where the hell are you? Did you decide to go to work early or something? You aren't home." It was Ricky.

Karla sat up, "No, I'm still at work. Do you remember me calling you last night, saying that my truck wouldn't start? I needed a jump; the jump box didn't have enough CCA's, so I need an actual vehicle this time."

"Oh." He was quiet for a moment, undoubtedly thinking about a way to spin this to make it her fault. "Well, if you really needed my help, why didn't you just tell me it was urgent? I'm not a mind reader."

"Sorry," she mumbled, too exhausted to push back. "Can you just come get me? Please? I want to go home."

"I'm surprised you actually want to come home at all with the attitude you've been having. Alright," Ricky sighed, "Tony gave me a ride home, I'll have him bring me there. You have cables, right?"

"Yes, I have cables. It'll all be sorted when you get here. Thank you."

"See you soon."

***

"Hey, Tony," Karla gave a shy wave to Ricky's friend. "Thanks for coming out."

"Sure," he popped the hood to his car that he had pulled to face Karla's. Reaching for the cables, Karla gave him the set to clamp to his vehicle before she put hers onto her battery posts.

"Sorry, man, I keep telling her to get a new battery." Ricky rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Tony glanced at Karla, but didn't offer a reply to Ricky. Ricky's friends knew Karla took care of everything financially and knew her situation.

Ricky, herself, Tony, and two other friends of theirs all lived in the same house for a while after Karla got kicked out of her apartment due to a fire in the unit on the other side of her wall. Not long after, while Karla was looking for a new apartment, Ricky lost his job. Deciding to move in with him and his roommates to pay her and Ricky's portion of the bills while they were still dating. Though Ricky was home 90% of the time while they all lived together, it was always Karla and two other roommates who kept the place in order. Karla would even offer to cook for everyone if they had parties at their flat. She put in a little more work into maintaining the kitchen, but she didn't mind, seeing as they let her stay without officially being on the lease. She tried to stay as out of the way as possible, knowing she was a glorified guest, feeling she had to earn her keep.

After getting her truck started, Karla thanked Tony for his help, and the three went their separate ways. Karla and Ricky climbed into the cab of her pickup, leaving the desolate lot to go back home. "If I had my car, I wouldn't have to rely on other people to get me places."

"I know," she mumbled, her gaze fixed on the road as she tried not to fall asleep.

"When is it going to be done? It's been almost 9 months since you brought it to that shop. You wonder why I can't help you out around the house, but if I don't have a car, I'm kinda screwed. The fellas are tired of picking me up all the time." Nothing but complaints expelled from his mouth the entire drive home.

"I'm sorry, I'm doing my best," Karla rested her forehead in her hand, her elbow propped up on the armrest. She was too exhausted to argue back. It was easier to keep the peace than stand up for herself anyway.