Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Jennifer of the Aryan Brotherhood: Part 1

Short story By: peanutproductions
Young adult


Submitted:Feb 20, 2014    Reads: 28    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Jennifer, of the Aryan Brotherhood Pt. 1

I squinted into the distance, fighting the blistering sunset, as I struggled to read the green sign off to the right. Tulsa, Oklahoma: 97 miles. Blinded for a moment as my eyes readjusted to the road, the Buick began to pull to the left. Dunkdunkdunkdunkdunkdunk, as the old tin can began to swerve into the rut. I aggressively cranked the wheel back to the right and the burning end of my cigarette nestled itself into the inside of my left index finger. "Fuck" I spit out through gritted teeth, "piece a' shit." Shaking out the pain in my left hand I punished my useless vehicle by putting out the cigarette on the foam covered dashboard, the leather interior was long gone.

I glanced into the rearview mirror. Little Violet was still passed out in her car seat; my angry cursing had not awoken her. Her mahogany curls were glued to her forehead with sweat because this dinosaur I can't afford to fix no longer has air conditioning. I looked at my own reflection in the mirror for a moment. The dark circles under my eyes were the same shade of black as my thick ruff of hair now. Maybe I should quit smoking…one thing at a time. Ninety-something miles left to go on this hell-of-a commute to the meth capital of the United States. The commute her cracked out mother couldn't ever make because she no longer had a license, thanks to a third DUI. So on the third Thursday of every month I drive six hours from Dalhart, Texas to the most horrific place in America to drop off the only thing I love in this life at her mother's trailer for the weekend. The one and only perk of the commute is off of the highway, about 82 miles before Tulsa, is Vi's favorite place in the whole world, Slum's Diner.

The old Buick clunked to a halt and I put it in park in front of Slum's. Violet was bouncing up and down in her car seat singing "yum yum Slum's yum yum Slum's." Bracing myself, I unbuckled her from her seat. She rocketed out of the car and made a b-line for the front door of the diner. Violent shot me a look of great urgency with her wide eyes, bouncing back and forth. "Dad! Dad! Daddy! Dad! Daaaadd!!" Violet begged, well aware that she is too small to open the door herself. I opened the door for her and she burned rubber en route to our usual booth in the back of the restaurant, only to be intercepted by Sasquatch.



"I know, love," I mumbled back. Hm, pancakes or the Slum burger?

"You aren't a girl," she giggled. Confused I looked up from my menu and came face to face with the tree's belt buckle. I shifted my eyes up to his meaty face and then down to his nametag. Jennifer was engraved into the plastic. "Is that your real name? Are you a girl? If you're a girl than why are you bald? Daddy he has a girl's name," she rattled off as she laughed to herself.

My face ignited crimson red. "Violet!" I hissed back at her. Jennifer threw another one of his spine-breaking looks at me. "Vi, baby, you can't say things like that to strangers" I stuttered out. Trying to at least sound like a good father.

"Sorryyy." Violet snickered as she covered her face with the ratty menu.

"Yes, my name is Jennifer. It's a family name. I am a man. Didn't your daddy teach you not to make rude comments, little girl?" He growled.

Anger welled within me and I had a potentially lethal moment of bravery. "Hey man she's just a kid so why don't you just fuck off?"

Looming over me he burned eternal regret into my brain as he looked into my eyes. "Because your kid is looking I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that." Jennifer snarled at me, pointing his jumbo sized finger at my face.

I swallowed hard. "What makes you think you can treat people like this? What, you think you got bigger problems than everyone so you can just treat your customers like shit? She's a fuckin kid and you got a chick name what did you expe…."


I was going to die and my last image would be Jennifer's furious red eyes. The man sure could hold eye contact. Suddenly Jennifer's expression jolted from indignation to stunned and I slipped from his death grip onto the tile, gasping for air. "No," he wheezed "no, no, no, it can't." Jennifer frantically snatched my wallet off of the table and torn it open. He held my driver's license with shaking hands and stared at it with the same baffled expression on his face for a solid 2 minutes. Nobody moved.


"Violet! Violet Santana!" He wailed at me.

"Don't you touch my daughter! I'll kill you! Do not hurt her!" I barked back. Adrenaline pulsed through me. I scooted backward and desperately tried to reach for Violet under the table.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes but this time out of desperation, not anger. "No, please! Violet Santana. Her brother…you. No, I'm so sorry. My Violet. Please, is she your…?"

I was stunned, petrified, horrified, lost. And then a light went on in my head. "Violet," I whispered "My little sister? Wa-why? How?" Jennifer lifted me off of the ground again, but this time pulled me into his Sequoia tree arms. His tears soaked my shirt. The beast who a moment ago was holding me by my neck was now sobbing into my chest. "I'm so sorry," he would heave in between sobs "I loved her."



My little Violet was a spitting image of my sister, same dark hair and wild spitfire personality. Only with brown eyes like her mother. But that is not what set off Jennifer's memory. As Jennifer was looking into my eyes, trying to think of the best way to end my life, he realized my tired eyes were an exact match to my sister's. He had spent so much time gazing into the eyes of his one love, chronically astounded by her beauty, that he could point them out in a crowd of thousands. In Slum's Diner he was reunited with those eyes in the most inconceivable way imaginable. And all powerless Jennifer could do in that moment was hold me tighter and sob, "I'm so sorry."

My brain was pounding inside of my skull, as if it were desperately trying to escape its bone matter prison. I don't blame it for wanting to disown me after what it was just asked to comprehend. I sat on the old red bench outside of Slum's nervously picking at the peeling paint chips. Violet was hunkered in lap, practically welded to my chest, a fist full of my shirt locked in her hand. As soon as Jennifer had come-to and flood gates of reality re-opened he released me from his giant grip. "Take Violet, go outside. Do not move," were his exact orders. Even though the beast's expression had softened, rays of vulnerability beaming through his blue eyes, I would have to be completely bat shit crazy to disobey. I starred out into the nothingness of the desert as I finger combed Violet's soft curls; something my mother used to do to calm my sister down when we were kids. I couldn't help but wonder what provoked Oscar Slum to build a diner in such a wasteland. Sand and only sand with the occasional guest appearance by tumbleweed for miles on end. The sun was beginning to wrap up its day behind Slum's diner, casting long shadows of the giant neon sign on the roof over me and Vi. The buzzing diner was struck silent.



Tulsa, Oklahoma: 27 miles. Still not one word had been exchanged. We were two hours behind schedule. Vanessa, if she wasn't belligerently drunk already, will be pissed. Especially since Violet had been sleeping almost all day and will surely not go to bed without a fight tonight. But a pissy baby momma was the absolute least of my worries. Jennifer had no idea what my plans for the rest of the day were and yet he hopped right into the picture as if he had been there all along. I fidgeted in my seat and cleared my throat. "Eh, ehhemm…uh. So. Uh, okay look, man. This was weird. Like, the most mind blowing thing that has ever happened to me. I'm, uh, sure it was for you too…but look wh…" I have such a way with words.

"I need you to cooperate with me," Jennifer mumbled, "I am not going to hurt you or Violet."

"Um, okay. That's…I'm glad, okay. But J…Jennifer…"

"Jay, pleased," he huffed.

"Jay. Okay, well look Jay we aren't from around here. I'm taking Vi to her mom's trailer in Tulsa. Then I stay in a motel across town until Sunday and we go back to Texas. Like, I…you can't stay." My palms were clammy and I felt beads of sweat form on the bridge of my nose. God damn I needed that cigarette. Four and a half minutes more of excruciating silence slugged by and then a, "that's fine," was bellowed from the passenger seat.





