Bent not Broken (170 page)

Mama just looks at me with tears in her eyes. She hasn’t said a word, but waits for me to finish.

I go on, “From the time I first saw her, I loved her. I know I’m young-” My voice gets wobbly and I swallow before continuing. “I know I’m young, but I know how I feel about her. I won’t ever feel that way about anyone else. Ever.”

“I know it feels that way now, Isaiah-” she starts.

“No, Mama. It’s not going to change. Believe me.”

“How did you manage all this without me knowing about it? I’ve seen the two of you walking, but I didn’t see the harm in that. I haven’t even seen you on the phone that much.” She shakes her head. “A few years is a long time. Do her parents know about this?”

“No. They aren’t around very much. I talk to her on the phone when I’m supposed to be doing my homework. Her parents aren’t home then. Or I talk to her after you go to bed.” I look at her guiltily, and she pats my hand.

“I wish I’d known how you felt sooner, Isaiah. But you know I would’ve tried to put a stop to it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s just not acceptable here. But really, it’s not just here. Anyone who chooses that life has a long, hard road ahead of them. You know that. I realize it’s not fair. It should be a fine thing for you to be with a nice girl like Caroline. Except for the fact that she’s white and you’re not…you know we don’t mix like that around here, son. Do you remember what happened with Uncle Billy?”

“Well, I know he had to leave, but I don’t remember why.”

She takes a while to answer. Her voice stays calm, but she clutches a dishrag until her knuckles turn white.

“He got caught up with Mr. Davidson’s daughter. Remember? He nearly got shot when they chased him out of town. They put a burning cross on our lawn twice, knocked out the windows with rocks…it isn’t over around here, Isaiah. You know full well that those kinds of things still happen. But this is our home, like it or not, and we have to keep the peace. Our family is here. This is the only home we know.”

“I know it. And that’s why I ended it with Caroline today.”

She can’t hide her relief when I say this. “Oh, thank the good Lord. Son, can you just imagine what the white folks in town would do if they found out you like Caroline Carson, the very cream of the crop? They would not take that lying down, you can be sure of that.” She pats my hand and gives me a concerned look. “So where does Leroy fit in?”

“Leroy has been noticing Caroline for a while and keeps showing up wherever she is. He keeps going out of his way to harass her. He has seen us together before and…well, he saw us today…holding hands…”

Mama groans. “Isaiah! Oh my, son. This is my fault. I’m to blame for not putting a stop for this. I’m so sorry. I should have never let you be friends with her. I thought it was harmless. I should have known…I know you think the world of her, but it would destroy you both, Isaiah.” She leans over and grips my face. “Listen…I know it’s going to be hard, but you’re gonna have to stay away from her, you hear me? If you don’t want to get run out of town, you’re gonna have to just leave her alone. For her sake too.”

“I know, Mama.” I lay my head on the table. “I told her today that it was over.”

“Well, you did the right thing, love. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. I know it feels awful now…and it will for a long while. But it will get better, you’ll see. You’re young and you will find someone one day.”

I shake my head but don’t bother arguing with her.

“I know you don’t want to hear any of this right now, but you have all the time in the world. It’s not even time to be looking for all that yet!”

She wraps her arms around me and hugs me close.

“She doesn’t have anybody!” I wail. “I’m the only one who really cares about her.”

“Now, now…that’s just not true. I’m sure she has a lot of people looking out for her.”

I shake my head again, frustrated, but I don’t say any more. I want so badly to tell my mother everything. If she knew Caroline was on her own, she would make sure she was taken care of, but I know Caroline will never forgive me if I tell her secret.

We talk a while longer, but it doesn’t make either of us feel any better.

“I wish deep down in my bones that I could make everything all right, son. I wish the world were fair…that you could have all the privileges of anyone else, but it’s just not our reality. I hope one day…” She wipes her eyes with her napkin. “All I can do is my best to keep you safe, love you, and encourage you to better yourself so you can get out of here one day. As sad as it makes me, I cannot let you get caught up in Caroline Carson’s world. It would be the undoing of all of us.”

I nod and we sit there quietly for a while. Mama gets up and brings back medicine. When I take that, she runs a bath for me. When I’m done in there, I go straight to my room and shut the door. I’m all talked out.

I lay on the bed and close my eyes. All I can see is Caroline crying by her door.

I can’t do this.

But I have to try to stay away.

It’s best for everyone.

Now that Mama knows everything, I know she’ll be keeping a close eye on me. It’s over.

It’s torment. I can’t get Caroline out of my mind. But now the image of Caroline is marred by Thomas Owens. I pretty much just handed her over to him. She’s been the only one in my world who completely sees past my skin. In a town like Tulma, a love like that is miraculous. And I just gave that away.

Chapter 12

Empty

Any joy I had, left, when Isaiah walked out the door. I feel like I’m sleepwalking. At night, I roam the rooms in my house. It’s a small house, so it doesn’t take long. I pace back and forth. I go through every drawer in my parents’ room; something I would have previously never dreamed of doing. I touch their clothing, fold it, and put it back in the drawers.

In my snooping, I find letters my mom and dad wrote to each other. I read each one, trying to feel some of the love they professed to feel. It doesn’t feel real—I can’t imagine my parents saying these things to each other. I wonder if they meant any of it. If only I could read without the experience of my lifetime with them.

I’m so angry with Isaiah, I can’t think straight. This whole time—our whole friendship—I’ve never once doubted his love for me. It’s painful to know he can end things this way. I guess he never felt the way I thought he did. But when I think about all the hours we talked about everything that was important to us, I have to believe he does care.

I relive the day by the water. All the things he said—I thought I would cherish them forever, but now they feel like boils on my skin, oozing with the knowledge that he can walk away from me.

I have a brief memory of my daddy. I try to force thoughts of him away; it’s just too hard, but the memories push themselves to the surface.

On my sixth birthday, my dad gave me a stuffed dog. We named him Scruffy. He had pitiful eyes that looked sorrowful and sweet all at once. My dad would make him talk to me and give me fits of laughter. Sometimes he would make him misbehave and I would cry and stomp my foot to make my dad stop. I slept with Scruffy every night and carried him around the house until I went to school. Truth be told, I still sleep with him every night.

I fell off my bike one afternoon and my dad was home. He saw me from the window and came running outside. I had a bad scrape on my knee, and he carried me in the house. He walked straight to the bedroom and picked up Scruffy, and they doctored my knee together. I was laughing by the time the bandage was in place.

This is one of the last times I can ever remember life being simple. I would give anything if Daddy and Scruffy could make everything better with a Band-Aid and a few jokes.

It’s apparent something is wrong with me—that everyone I love keeps leaving me. I don’t know why I never imagined Isaiah doing the same.

I don’t sleep that night. I cry and pace and agonize. In the morning, I put on a clean yellow dress. It has tiny lavender flower-shaped buttons. It’s a pretty dress—one that Nellie and I made the last time we sewed together. I always enjoy wearing it. Fingering through my curls and trying to smooth down the frizz, I tie a lavender ribbon around my hair. I open my mother’s bathroom drawer and rummage through the odds and ends she left. A little mascara on my eyelashes makes my eyes deepen into a darker blue-gray shade. I put on her soft pink lip-gloss and examine the results. I still only see the sad eyes, but I may as well continue playing a part. That’s what everyone always expects of me. I will do it for this one day, at least.

I think of my mother as I look in her mirror and I hate the parts of me that look like her. I don’t hate her though. I don’t love her either. I feel nothing. My daddy, too. Nothing.

I’ve thought all night about what Isaiah said about me making excuses for my parents and realize that’s one thing he was completely right about. I’ve made every excuse in the book for my daddy, but really he left me just like my mother did. Neither of them is any better than the other.

I walk slowly to Harriet’s, not really sure of how I even get there. It’s a tunnel vision without the vision. I’m floundering and I don’t know how to pull myself out of it. I do get through my day at Harriet’s. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have this job, but it has been a long, hard day to see people and try to put on a happy face. I’ve been told many times to smile. I’m trying to not bring everyone down with my sadness, but I just can’t turn on the fake.

Nellie stops by and says I’m looking sadder’n a cow in heat. She forces me to say yes to dinner that night. When I get done at Harriet’s, I head home to let Josh out before going to Nellie’s house. Maybe I will even take Josh with me. He seems to know I’m needing him right now. He never left my side during the night.

I turn on my street and pick a peach from one of the trees. Mr. Talbot has the best peaches. I never see him, so I feel fine about helping myself to one. He wouldn’t mind anyway, he has always told us to pick whatever fruit we want. He has more than enough. I take a bite and the juice runs down my chin. It’s so tasty that I pick another one for later.

When I turn toward my house, my heart stops cold. Leroy and Les are in front of my house, waiting. I look around and don’t see another person in sight. Immediately, I turn around and start running toward town. The peaches go flying. The rattle of their bikes is just behind me. I stumble and scrape my knee on the gravel. The pause is enough for them to almost catch up to me. I jump up and run as hard as I can.

Leroy reaches me first and shoves me into the trees. I try to get loose, but he has a firm grip on me.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He laughs.

****

It’s strange the things you remember. When I think back on this day, I’ll think of how the air smells, all heavy and humid. The peach trees swaying in the breeze, their scent combining with sweat and dirt. The white shoes on my feet, muddied in the dirt. My yellow dress…the blue, blue sky... a bird I keep trying to hear over my cries.

I didn’t know anyone could be so cruel. I fight with everything I have, but Leroy is stronger than me. He punches me in the stomach, taking my breath. He pulls chunks of my hair out as I hit and kick and bite. I try so hard to get away and it only makes him fight harder. It feels like I’m in a dream where I want to run quickly and I’m in slow motion, not actually moving at all. Nothing I do works.

He knocks me down on the grass and I still try to crawl away. He has a knife. He cuts my leg and when I stop crawling, he puts the knife on my throat. It’s the knife he had at the flower shop that day. I recognize it and I go still. He wants to kill me. The hate in his eyes; I just know.

“You don’t need to fight me, you know you want me,” he says.

The tears spill over and I can’t see anything for a minute. I blink and kick him again. When I do, the knife digs into my skin. I yell and he leans on me, his face in mine.

“Look, you filthy bitch, you can stop yellin’. Ain’t no one out here. Les is keepin’ watch. You may as well just save your breath.” He laughs again and puts the knife on my cheek. “Come on, don’t make me mess up that pretty face.”

He rips off my yellow dress with his other hand, the buttons popping with little pings on my arm. He grips me so hard, my breath comes out in squeaks. He pulls down his pants. I squeeze my eyes shut and beg God to please not let this happen.

The knife gets loose and since my arms are pinned, I bite until I make him bleed. He yelps and this just makes him mad. He beats me until every inch of me is bruised. I’m numb and almost out of fight. Somehow I get out from under him and try to get up and run, but I only make it a few feet. When he tries to knock me down, I kick him in the groin and he doubles over, groaning.

I turn around and try to make my way through the peach trees. If I can just make it to the Talbot house, I can find someone to help me. I’m almost to the pond. The house is just on the other side of the pond. He’s running behind me, his breath coming out in shallow bursts. I think they’re both chasing me. My legs feel like lead, but I keep pushing myself. I won’t stop running. I won’t stop running. I won’t…

I round a tree and see the water. Please let someone be at the house. Please, please, please. Out of breath. They’re getting closer. I feel the heat from his body. Too close. And then Les takes hold of me and I’m on the ground. He kicks me until I’m wheezing for air.

Leroy takes over then and he’s on top of me, crushing my ribs, ripping my underwear as he pulls it down, hurting me…

I give up. My eyes are swollen; one is all the way shut and the other is a tiny slit, but I stare at the sky, not really seeing it. I listen for that bird. Maybe if I really concentrate, I can hear it.

Leroy keeps screaming at me to shut up, but I think he must be talking to someone else. It cannot be me making that noise.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he says over and over. “And then I’m gonna slit your throat and watch you bleed.”

The bird sings a pretty melody, almost making it sound like a magical day in the forest. Like Snow White might come out at any moment. I struggle to hear that song. My eyes close all the way now.