Broken Like Glass (6 page)

Bo slides into the seat next to me.
Uriah has ordered enough tacos I believe them to be in my foreseeable breakfast future. I slide a bag to Bo. “No lettuce this time,” I say.

He bumps me with his shoulder and smiles. “You know me so well.”

“So, what plans have you got for Friday?” Uriah directs the question to Bo.

Bo unwraps his taco and takes a bite before answering. “I thought I’d go to the town over and see a show. They’ve got a run of old movies playing.”

“The drive-in?”

“Yeah, should be fun. What are you doing?”

“I’d like to go with you if you’ve got the room.”

Bo looks taken aback. I look taken aback. We got abacks flying left and right. I look at them with wide eyes, eating my taco, keeping my mouth full.

“Well, you got someone special you’re taking or can I come?” Uriah chomps down on his chicken taco and a strip hangs down his chin. I can help but snicker as he pushes it in his mouth and gives me a smile.

“No, I’m not taking anyone special. You mean you aren’t spending every waking moment with Lilly?”

My strategy to keep food in my mouth backfires and I choke. I take a sip of soda to stop the hacking. Uriah comes to my rescue though and says, “Lilly needs Lilly time and I need guy time with someone I considered a good friend before I left for the service.”

Lilly needs Lilly time. I do have homework. Stupid homework.

Bo twists to look at me. “Well, she certainly can’t go. Judge Kringle has her on lockdown in Foaming Springs.”

“Told you bad girls don’t have options,” I say without looking at either of them.

“You’re not a bad girl,” Bo says. Uriah bounces his head up and down in agreement.

“No? What’s your definition of a bad girl then?” In my mind, I feel like I fill up that definition quite well with a big red letter “B” written on my chest.

“There're bad girls and a girl who’s made a bad choice,” Uriah says.

“You definitely made a bad choice. No argument there.” Bo adds.

I slouch and look at the wall. “Well, I can’t argue either,” I whisper, but I know they’ve heard me.

Uriah reaches across the table and smacks Bo on the arm. “You remember that time Lilly went missing in the woods?”

My rear burns a little from the memory of the punishment and I shift in the booth.

“Yeah, man, her momma paddled her something fierce. Right there, at the edge of the woods, in front of the whole town. Lilly looked like she had no idea what was happening,” Bo says.

“I don’t know if she got paddled for going missing or the way she talked to her momma after she was found.”

“Both,” I interject.

“You always did have a mouth.” Bo shakes his head. “I was lucky you kept quiet in front of Judge Kringle or you may not be sitting here.”

“I didn’t have anything to say.”

“Yeah, but when you do, it’s worth hearing most of the time.” Uriah smiles as he looks at me.

“Did your dad ever whip you like that?” Bo asks. I don’t think he’s thought through the question because the look on his face makes me think he regrets asking.

My head hurts all of a sudden. It feels like fireworks with a bad fuse busting inside my skull. “No, he didn’t have to whip me. He just used words and a tongue with a surgeon’s precision.”

“I didn’t know that Lilly,” Uriah says just above a whisper.

“Don’t. Don’t give me those looks.” I turn my head to the wall. “I don’t need your sympathy or your sweetness or anything.” Anger bubbles like fizzy soda in my throat. “This is why I never told anyone. I got what I got and that was all there was to it. Not like anyone could have done anything and I can’t change it now.”

The three of us sit in silence. It’s horrible and uncomfortable and it smells like toe jam socks. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Why didn’t I? It’s not like saying this stuff can change anything.

“How did your momma handle your dad?”

That’s a new question. I search my memories like an old library card catalog. “I don’t remember.”

“Do you know what happened to your biological parents? Did they ever try to contact you after you were adopted?”

“Some. My biological daddy, Will, did of course, ‘cause he was momma’s baby boy. I only met Uncle Robert a few times. Right before I was adopted, Lucy, my biological momma, kidnapped me. She got as far as West Virginia with me. I was gone two or three months. Can’t remember for sure now.” It pops out like hot kernels in an iron skillet. I slap my hand over my mouth. I don’t know why I said it.

Bo and Uriah react like I expect them to. The town may have known I was adopted, but few knew Lucy had taken me. It’s not like momma and daddy talked about it. Not from what I remember anyway.

“What?” they ask in unison.

It’s out now and I shrug because to me it’s not big news. I’ve lived with it so long it doesn't even feel real anymore. It never really occurred to me to say anything before now. What difference did it make?

“What did your momma and daddy do? Did your biological dad do anything?” Bo asks.

Uriah’s green eyes are studying me hard. He’s both shocked and heart hurt for me all at the same time.

“They hired a private investigator and prayed. The private investigator never could find me and eventually the FBI did. After they got me back, they made the adoption official. Lucy wrote a couple times when I got older, but I was mad at her. If she’d wanted to talk to me, maybe she should have hung around. I don’t know where she is now, and I have no inclination to go searching for her.”

They both seem to reel from the revelation. Uriah’s eyebrows raise and Bo just looks at me like I’ve eaten a worm. They asked, and I answered. What’s the big deal?

“So your biological dad, he hung around?”

“Do you remember seeing him?”

“A few times.”

“Well, there ya go. A few times. He came around, spent a couple of nights, and in a flash of false promises he was gone. He died about six years ago. Daddy called and told me.”

“Wow. Why did you keep all this to yourself?” Uriah is genuine when he asks.

I throw my hands up. “I don’t know. It never dawned on me to be something worth telling. Being taken wasn’t the worst of what’s happened to me and it’s just a way for people to talk about things they know nothing of. Can we just stop talking about it now? Please? Besides if I spill all my secrets here Chrissy might just feel useless.”

They chuckle nervously and that seems to change the topic and the mood. Uriah and Bo start planning their trip to the drive-in and I sit quietly wondering how it’s going to be with a full weekend alone with myself.

Uriah drives me home, but he doesn’t stay.
His momma has a list of things for him and my mood doesn’t really make for a lot of room in my little cabin. I change clothes, grab a grape soda and take up my residence on the deck.

It’s sunny and bright. The birds are dipping and diving. Woody is nowhere to be seen, but I’ve got a squirrel eyeing me. He’s got a buddy and they start playing in the trees; their little bushy tails swishing as they leap from tree to tree.

My thoughts start to wander back to Tish’s. I am happy that all those bags of tacos Uriah bought weren’t for me. Apparently, there're a few families in town that he’s been dropping in and giving them food. He’s sweeter than sugar.

I mentally whoop myself for telling either those two about being taken by Lucy. I try to picture Lucy’s face and I can’t. She’s been gone so long her face and memory are just faded and there’s no picture. The breeze picks up and whips through my clothes. The air has turned icy and goosebumps line my arms like a little army.

My toes tingle from the bite of the wind, but I don’t want to move. I want to sit here on the deck with the frosty breeze and watch the sun as it moves across the sky.

I take a sip of my soda, wiggle my toes, and then Papa decides to take a seat next to me. More than anything I wish He could take a vacation and leave me alone for a little while. I still need a band-aid from the last time He poked with His sharp finger.

He sits quietly for a while, smiling in my direction, letting me stew. Then He pounces with the grace of an elephant. My heart itches and tingles and hurts and bleeds.

“Why did you let this stuff happen to me?” I say out loud to my audience of birds, squirrels, and Papa. I feel Papa more than the birds and squirrels. “Why couldn’t you just let me be normal? What did I do to deserve all the crap that’s happened to me? I didn’t ask to be born. You put me on this earth and now look at me. I’m all warped and twisted.”

Tears spring to my eyes. I feel the hurt all the way down into my soul. The kind of hurt that just rips and shreds and leaves nothing but tattered pieces laying all over.

The cry slips between my teeth and out my lips. I jump out of the chair, walk to the corner of the deck and take in a new view. There’s a part of me that wants to fling myself off the railing, but I know I’d just end up with a few broken bones. Then I’d have to explain myself and that seems more trouble than the broken bones.

My lips tremble and I brush my hand across the waterfall running down my face. “I’m alone you know. I’m all alone.”

Papa cups my heart and blows cool air on it trying to put out the burning fire. It’s His way of saying I’m not alone.

“But I am. I am alone. I got you, but no one on this earth. You hear me?” I yell the question into the expanse of the forest like a lion growling on the plains.

Papa squeezes my insides like He’s trying to hug me but I feel like my muffin’s getting busted.

“If they knew my dark parts, they’d never talk to me again. All that blackness that covers me like an oil slick would just ooze out onto them too. Then they’d be all black and ugly and worthless…” I choke on the last word. It comes out in sputters and spit.

Then another realization hits me with the force of a tidal wave. Uriah can’t fix me. My fence is in splinters and you just can’t fix that kinda damage. You just have to start over. I don’t know what hurts worse, me being all ugly blackness or the fact that Uriah deserves better than me.

“Papa, why’d you do this?” I look in the direction of where Papa is sitting. I see His face. He’s smiling and welcoming and all I can think is I want to just pound on Him. I don’t want Him smiling at me. I’m so mad now.

“Why’d you have to let him bump into me? Why? Don’t you love him, too? Don’t you know he needs better than the trash heap I am?”

Papa speaks calmly. “I love Uriah just as much as I love you. You think you’re the only one that prays and asks for answers? He prayed for you and I answered him.”

“But why’s he wanting me? I’m no good. I stab daddys in the Thriftway.”

Papa sits quietly. Those squirrels He’s fashioned feel Him here too. They dance like I’ve never seen before. The birds join in, too. A new, lighter, cooler breeze blows. It touches my face and it’s like Papa is caressing my tears away, but I’m not ready for niceness.

“Why you gotta be like this? I’m not ready for all this stuff. I don’t want to deal with all this stuff. I came here to visit daddy and leave. Why’d you let me do that? Why’d you let me get myself in trouble? I thought you were my friend. I thought you loved me. I thought you wanted good things for me. I thought…” My ugly cry comes back even more vicious and I kneel in the corner of the deck and bow my head. The wounds split open, puss pours out, and I just can’t do anything but lean back against the rickety railing and hope it doesn’t break.

My pain is like a disease I can’t find a cure for and I cry. I cry for the life I think I should have had, for the parents I wanted, for the grandparents I needed, and for all the things I think Papa has stolen from me.

I cry.

And I cry.

And I cry some more.

By the time I stop crying, I can feel Papa telling me He loves me and He’ll be back later. I don’t know what later means, but I understand. My company right now is utterly horrible and I wouldn’t want to sit with me either.

Papa says, “I’m not leaving because you’re bad company. I always love you. I love you enough to give you someone you think is too good for you. I love you enough to give you trials and heartbreak because when it’s all over you’ll be my shining glory and anyone and everyone looking your direction will see my fingers everywhere in your life.”

“Why you gotta be so nice to me? Surely my jagged pieces are enough to cut you too. Besides, can’t people see your glory without me stabbing my daddy?”

An old hymn springs to mind. No, no I’m definitely not skilled to understand what God has willed or what God has planned. The song plays like a lullaby in my head as Papa gives me space.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I
had no intention whatsoever of stepping foot in this church, but here I am, steppin’ and sittin’. I take a spot in a pew in the back of the church in the far corner with the hope that I’m ignored until the service is over.

Papa gets a dirty look from me when I cast my eyes skyward for a moment. Why He made me come is lost on me. What can I get here that I can’t get in the cabin? I know where you live, ya know, I say to Him in my head.

I feel Him settle over me and my spirit. “Fine,” I mumble under my breath. “I’m here, but I don’t have to be happy about it.” I cross my arms over my chest and slouch down in the seat.

Uriah is walking down the aisle to the front of the church when he looks back over his shoulder and sees me. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder because the smile he flashes me is something worthy of an Olympic medal. The girly parts of my brain squeal in delight. The other two percent yell at it to shut up.

He continues walking to the front of the church and I look for who might be the recipient of all Uriah has to offer, and I see Misty. I feel like someone has come along and stolen all my air. My head feels light.

My brain starts yelling at me, this time the girly parts and the not-so-girly parts gang up on me. You said he deserved better than you, remember? I don’t know who’s asking, me or Papa. Surely, if he deserves better than me, he deserves better than Misty too. While watching him talk to her, Jenny Walman joins them.

Misty cuts her eyes in my direction and the smile greeting me is anything but sweet or friendly. Shots have been fired over my bow, and I’m sinking into the ocean. Jenny waves and I limply wave back.

Uriah is waving at me to come join them and I flat out refuse. My butt is planted in this corner and unless he has pie I’m not moving. I shake my head a few times, and then look down to avoid his insistance.

I guess he takes the hint because when I look the next time, he’s sauntering in my direction and sits down next to me. He bumps me with his shoulder and smiles. “You coulda come said hello.”

“Didn’t want to lose my spot.” I pretend like I’m reading an old bulletin.

“You didn’t want to deal with Misty.”

“That too.”

“She’s not horrible.”

I can’t help but drop the bulletin in my lap and look at him. “Then explain to me what I did to make her hate me. I never did anything to her, but she sure has gone out of her way to make sure I know she doesn’t like me.”

Uriah sits quiet.

That’s right, soldier, you got nothing. “See. Even you don’t have an answer.”

“Have you ever thought about sitting your butt down and asking her?”

“Mice don’t ask the cat why it’s hungry. They just go down smooth with catsup.”

Uriah bounces with laughter. “I don’t know if I can sit by you during church. If I laugh while Pastor Jeffrey is preaching he’ll probably take me out behind the shed and wear me out.”

“Wouldn’t he have to catch you first?”

“Seriously, Lilly, maybe you just sit down with Misty one day and ask. Maybe you did something and you didn’t even realize it and it hurt her feelings.”

“What if she just hates me because she’s a mean, vindictive, hag of a girl and her lot in life is to pester me until I’m dead.”

“Then at least you’ll know and you won’t have to wonder anymore. Maybe you might have a good friend that loves you after all’s said and done.”

I snort. “Sure. Me and Misty, friends. That’ll be the day.”

“You never know. Isn’t Papa all about miracles?” He makes a point to emphasize Papa.

“Walking on water would be easier than being friends with Misty.”

People are filing in now. I haven’t been here since I got into town so anyone who hasn’t already seen me on Wednesday makes their trek over to hug me and tell me hi. See, Papa, this is why I didn’t want to come to church. I hear His light, happy laugh tickles my heart. Ugh, Papa, just stop.

Pastor Jeffrey takes to the pulpit and everyone hushes. He bows his head and says a prayer and then Jenny Walman gets up and leads the singing. I should have known that sugary pile of bones would lead the singing. She asks us to stand and inwardly I groan, but I do it so I don’t have to deal with Uriah giving me grief.

We sit, stand, sing, stand, sit, pray, and then Pastor Jeffrey gets up to the pulpit again and pulls out his Bible from a hidden cubby hole. He flips it open and tells everyone to turn to Romans 1: 28-32. The title of his sermon is Loving Evil Instead of Good. I know he’s talking to me when he looks at me and Bo, sitting next to his momma, turns to stare right at me.

All I wanna do is hide. Uriah must feel my readiness to flee because he puts a hand on my knee and gives me a look. He leans over, his lips next to my ear, and says, “I’ve got you.” He pulls back and his eyes lock with mine. Then he turns his attention to the rest of the church. His eyes narrow, his jaw flexes, and the look on his face lets everyone there know he means business. Mrs. Pendleton is looking too, only she’s beaming at Uriah. Her boy has done exactly what she’s taught him to do: be brave when the whole world is throwing rocks.

If Pastor Jeffrey has anything else to say to me today, he’ll have to do it in private. Uriah Pendleton has spoken without saying a word and it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

My shoulders sag, I put my head down, and I wish like I’ve never wished before that Papa will bring someone worthy of Uriah because I am not her. I know I’m not. My darkness is bleeding outside of the edge getting Uriah messy. I feel ashamed and rotten.