Covered in Coal (8 page)

I rub my sleepy eyes, my face still tender from the emotional meltdown Colton and I shared tonight. Raising my head, I see that Colton is still here, with his arms wrapped tight around me. Breaking free from his embrace I go to the kitchen for a bottled water. My body drained itself tonight from any and all liquid it was storing, in the form of my shed tears. My god, I had no clue one could cry so much. I see the mess I created with the fifth of liquor and decide to busy myself, cleaning it up. Cleaning always steadies my thoughts. I grab a box from the garage, and begin to sift through the broken glass, careful not to cut myself. The stench of alcohol takes my breath, and causes my stomach to churn. I clean the mess up quickly, trying to be ever so quiet.

Just as I turn to toss the last Lysol and Jack laced paper towel in the trash, I see Colton leaning lazily against the counter, rubbing heavy eyes.

“Oh shit, you scared me!”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep on ya,” Colton says, scrubbing his face roughly with his hands. 

“I think we both dozed off, it’s no worries.” I was hoping that sharing our secrets tonight, would clear the tension between the two of us, but honestly, it feels more intense. Maybe we were wrong, uncovering the truth.

“Well, I guess I’ll get goin’, gotta get home to get ready for work. I’ll see ya around at the mines.” Colton replies as he walks towards the front door. He pulls on his boots, and walks out the door, not even taking the chance to look back at me.  I walk to the front window, and watch as Colton beats the steering wheel of his truck in a fit of rage. He looks up, and sees me in the window. Dropping his head in defeat, he roars the engine to life, and backs out of the driveway.

I lock the front door behind him, then crawl up on the couch, enveloping the scent that Colton has left behind. My heart, heavy with loss, decides to release another round of tears. Curling my knees to my chest, I cry myself to sleep.

Carly

Bitter. Hurt. Depressed. I could give you the entire damn emotional dictionary right now, and I’d probably be feeling every damn bit of it, in some way. I would kill to numb the pain, to erase the heartache. But it’s a plague I must live with, something that will follow me around the rest of my life, haunting my dreams, waking me in terrors each night.

How the hell do I move on? The day after Colton and I spilled ten kinds of hell onto each other, depression set in, and I slept the day away, waking up the next evening at five o’clock, still on the couch, exactly where I was when he left me. My stomach rolled in achy pain from unsettled nerves and the lack of food, but I simply didn’t care. I left the couch, made a pit stop in the bathroom, then I found my way to my bedroom, where I have spent the last seven days, in a dark depression. I’ve cried every damn last tear I can cry.

I’m mad that Colton cheated on me. I’m hurt that Colton left me, through extortion via my jackass Daddy, may he rest in peace. I am devastated that Colton has a daughter, a daughter that we will never share. She is so beautiful, her springy brown curls bouncing as she runs to jump into Colton’s arms.

Damn it! Why couldn’t that have been MY baby? Why did I have to lose her? My heart will never be empty of tears for that angel. Never.

Sleep this last week has been very elusive. It seems telling Colton about the rape, has reawakened the nightmares, and I just can’t relive that horror every night. Then, as I lay awake, all I can think about is the what-ifs. What if I could have pleased Colton, and kept him happy? What if Daddy would have minded his damn business? What if I’d never ran off to Myrtle Beach? What if I’d had our baby? Would we be living our happily ever after? Is there even such a thing as a happily ever after? Ugh, the constant yammering in my head. When I sleep, I dream. When I’m awake, I think. I don’t want to do either.

Finally, I can’t suffer any more. So I take two Tylenol PM, chasing it with some Jack, praying that I can just rest a peaceful solitude of dream. No horrific nightmares. Just rest. No thinking involved. Just rest. Sleep captures me and carries me away to a blissful land of solitude. I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I awake, I feel revived.

Rubbing my heavy eyes, I roll over in my plush soft bed, and see the sunlight glisten against the ceiling as the morning greets me. Tossing the heavy comforter away, I climb out of the bed, and pad to the bathroom.

Turning the shower on, I let the white steam fill the room, before stepping in. The hot liquid runs down my back, easing the achy knots, courtesy of lying in bed, sulking over the last week. Damn crybaby. God, how pathetic am I?! Colton broke me once, but I was just a girl then. It took me a while to get over it all, but I did, eventually. Now I’m letting him break me down, again. Hell no. I won’t stand for it. I’m a tough bitch, and I refuse to let him unravel my heart strings once
again. It’s time to move on, and find the happiness I lost the moment I stepped foot back into this Podunk town. I wash away the stink, depression, and the heartache, stepping out of the shower, feeling somewhat refreshed.

Pulling on some comfy sweats, and tossing my hair into a wet, messy pony tail, I decide to start cleaning house. The kitchen still wreaks of alcohol, so I start there, armed with gloves and bleach.

After thoroughly cleaning the downstairs, I go upstairs to start cleaning. I strip the linens from my bed, and throw them down the stairs, followed by a pile of laundry. I dust every nook and cranny of my bedroom, followed by vacuuming, and refreshing the curtains with a delightful clean linen scented fabric spray.

Every turn I make, I keep eyeing the oak chest, and I am drawn to pillage through it to unveil the contents. Stricken with worry of what secrets it may contain, I decide to keep cleaning the house. After all, I do have to return back to work tomorrow, and won’t have time to keep the house up. I’ve bleached the bathrooms, dusted every picture and knick knack in the house, swept and mopped the floors. The house is sparkling clean, and in a record time of five hours, which isn’t too bad for such a big house. Falling back onto the soft microfiber couch, I exhale a deep breath of exhaustion from my hard day of labor.

I glance over to the end table and see that the notification light on my phone is blinking, so I decide that now is as good a time as any to check all of the missed calls and texts messages that I’ve accumulated over the last seven days. Several calls from the mines, several calls and text messages from Savannah, and a couple of text messages from Colton. Damn it. Deciding not to fall back into the slump, I toss my phone into the recliner across the room, and jump up to remove the laundry from the dryer. Gotta stay busy Carly Jo, or you just might break. 

The soft warm bed linens smell like fresh spring flowers, as I fluff the sheet into the air, spreading it across the wide, queen bed. I make up the bed, which adds the perfect finishing
touch to a clean house. As I turn to leave my bedroom, I catch a glimpse of the oak chest out of the corner of my eye. Oh hell. Flopping down onto the floor in front of the chest, I wring my hands together, as anxiety creeps into my chest. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes as I lift the lid. Rising to my knees, I peak inside at the contents of this mystery box before me.

Reaching inside, I pull a stack of documents from the chest and place them in my lap, and begin to sift through them. The first stack is life insurance documents, so I quickly toss them aside. Grabbing a second pile from the chest, I stumble across some newspaper clippings, and pictures. I flip through the pictures quickly. The only face I recognize in each picture is that of my Daddy. But in each picture there is a boy, a boy I’ve never seen before. There’s a woman in some of the pictures, but she looks distant and sad.  These pictures stem over time through the years, so I begin to spread the pictures out across the floor, creating my own timeline.

Moving on to the newspaper clippings, I skim over each one quickly, trying to hit the important facts, then stack it neatly in my makeshift timeline. Names, births, accidents, deaths, graduation, accomplishments are all the facts that I find in the clippings.

After digging to the bottom of the chest, I have removed all of the contents, and placed them all on the floor. What the hell am I looking at? None of this makes sense to me. I stand up and stretch, then pad down the stairs for a bottle of water, then stop in Daddy’s office to grab my laptop, a note pad, and pen. Time to put my detective skills to use.

One by one, I read through each and every single newspaper clipping and take down notes of the key facts in each clipping, separating the clippings by their person of interest. So far, I have narrowed these persons of interest down to two; Matthew Varney, and his son Drew Varney.

As I read through the clippings, I learn that Matthew Varney was a coal miner who worked for Simon Energy when he came to his demise on the picket line during the strike of 1988. Shot down as he was crossing the picket line for a meeting with the bosses, Matthew Varney left behind his widow, Emma Varney, and a three year old son, Drew. Every man on site at the mines was questioned, and searched. As well as their personal lockers, and their vehicles. No gun was found.

Turning my investigation from Matthew to his son, Drew, I open up the laptop, and search Drew Varney. The Google search comes up with thousands of references to Drew Varney, so I start at the top. After sifting through his personal Facebook, other online sources, I learn that Drew was raised by his mother, Emma, in Lexington, Kentucky, where he graduated from Lexington Catholic with honors, and went on to study Business at the University of Kentucky. Once he graduated, he purchased a small coal mines and began his operations as sole proprietor of American Heritage Coal Company.

I recognize AHCC from the news lines over the last few weeks. They have had several MSHA violations over the years, which the supervisors instructed the mining crews to just put band aids on. Stupid ass move. These men bust their asses underground, and frickin’ CEO’s could care less about their safety! No, they just wanna turn that damn black coal to diamonds jinglin’ around in their pockets. Hell if I ever run Simon Energy that way. 

Setting the laptop in the floor, I lean back, stretching my back, sore from being hunched over in the floor for the last several hours. My brain feels cloudy, trying to process all of these facts is impossible.  Why would Daddy keep all of these pictures and documents locked up in this chest? Why were they so important to him? What am I missing?

Frustrated that I can’t piece together the puzzle, I begin to gather the pictures and clippings to put everything back into the chest. The last papers that I pick up is the life insurance documents. All of Daddy’s policies were finalized at the reading of his will, so why is this one lone document locked away?  Curiosity gets the best of me, so I read through the contents, trying to find the beneficiary. The policy is for the sum of five hundred thousand dollars. Upon the last page, it is written:

              Beneficiary: Drew Varney

Relationship:

Colton

The drive from Carly Jo’s house to home is a blur. I feel like I’m on auto pilot maneuverin’ through the curvy roads. When I get home, I walk over to Momma’s to check on Heidi Jo. She is sleepin’ peacefully, so I tuck her in tight, kissin’ her on the forehead. My little girl means the whole damn world to me. I could never imagine losing Heidi Jo. But knowing that I have an angel in heaven truly crushes my heart into thousands of tiny shards. And the knife twistin’ in my heart, is knowin’ that I’m the reason for all of this.

Everything would be different now if I weren’t such a dick then. I’d give everything for Heidi Jo, so I certainly don’t regret what I had with her Momma. She is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. I just wish Carly Jo could have given me a child to share as well. Maybe one day? Ah who the hell am I kiddin’?

I don’t even remember walkin’ from Momma’s house to mine, but I’m here, all alone and the silence is deafenin’. Every voice I hear, is Carly Jo’s, her cries echoin’ through my mind, like a broken record.  I turn the TV on, turnin’ the volume up, to drown out the sounds that are only present in my memory.  No matter how hard I try to push out the pain, it’s still there, hauntin’ me. The anguish on her face as she pounded her fists into my chest was a look I will never forget, no matter how hard I try.

I just want to hit the bottle again, and drown all of my sorrows in Jack, my long lost friend. Drink Carly Jo off my mind, just to numb the pain. But gettin’ shit faced is only a temporary cure to the heartache. Shit! I thought these last seven years were livin’ hell, but right now I am burning in the fiery inferno; flames gnawin’ at my soul, eatin’ me alive from the inside out. What the hell did I do?

Pinchin’ the bridge of my nose, I suck back the tears that are threatenin’ to escape. I’ve cried enough tonight, regardless of how bad my heart shreds at the pain. I tore my family apart, and didn’t even know it. Everything that could have been, is forever lost.

My body is restless, my nerves twitch and throb. I begin to pace the floor, tryin’ to concentrate on what I can do to fix this shit. The memory of tonight floods my mind, and the tears escape. Damn this all feels like a friggin’ dream. Hell, I wish it was. I don’t know how to move on, where to go, or what to do.

I click the TV off, and turn on the iPod. Christina Aquilera and Blake Shelton’s duet of
Just a Fool
bellows through the speaker, and I just laugh at myself, and the foolish mistake I made. There is no turnin’ back. All I can do now is accept my mistakes and try to mend what I broke, if Carly Jo will even let me.

Sittin’ down in my leather recliner, I lay the chair back, crossin’ my arms behind my head, and let my thoughts consume me, as the music continues to play. Rascall Flatts
Come Wake Me Up
is playin’ now, and I wish to God Carly Jo would wake me from this horrendous nightmare. Before I know it, I’m startled by the screechin’ sound of the alarm on the iPod.

When I get to work, I do everything I can to dodge the wrath of Carly Jo. Usually, I’m back and forth between my office and underground. But right now, I can’t bear to see her face. So I hide out beneath the surface of the earth, and find peace in the rumblin’ motors of the miner, pinner and scoops that operate around me, thankful for the distraction of my thoughts.

By day three, when she didn’t show up for the weekly Supervisors meetin’, I know I may have dodged her wrath for now, but that’s only because she’s broken. Once she repairs her wounds enough to take flight again, my ass is grass.

I ask Shelly where Carly Jo has been, and she tells me that she won’t be in for the week, because she is sick. Yeah, sick with a damn shattered heart. I thought about callin’ her, or stoppin’ by to check on her, but I don’t want to add insult to injury. So I send her a couple text messages, but get no reply. She’ll let me know when she’s ready to talk.

Today is Heidi Jo’s weekly pit stop at the ice cream shop, so as soon as I pull into the driveway she is waitin’ on me. Standin’ on the front porch in her pink sparkly tutu, and her hair pulled to the side in a knotted messy pony tail, I can see she has been playin’ dress up, again. She is bouncin’ up and down, full of excitement, ready to conquer her rocky rode treat.

“Daddy, Daddy, I’ve been so good all day! I listened to my teacher at school, I did my homework, and helped Mamaw with the dishes, picked up my dolls. Can we please hurry and go get some rocky rode ice cream, now, please, please, oh please?!” She shrills as she latches her chubby little arms around my waist. Liftin’ her, and spinnin’ her around, I lay a light kiss on her nose before settin’ her down.

“Sweetie, let me get a shower, you don’t wanna go out with your daddy looking like this, now do ya?” I tease her.

Poppin’ her hip to the side, she crosses her arms and says with a cocky little grin, “Daddy, I don’t ever care if you’re covered in coal, but Carly Jo probably thinks you’re cuter when you’re clean. So go get a shower, stinky butt.”

Damn I didn’t expect that. Buyin’ myself some time, I kiss her on the top of the head before I ruffle her messy hair, then turn to go inside to shower. Heidi Jo took a likin’ to Carly Jo last week, and she’s talked non-stop about her. I walk into the kitchen, and greet Momma with a kiss, before she shoos me away, complainin’ about me trackin’ coal and soot through the house. I hurry down the hall to the bathroom, to get cleaned up.

Washin’ away the day’s hard work of diggin’ away at the earth, minin’ black gold from the mountains, I watch as the black stained suds rinse down the drain. I rest my head against the shower wall, as the hot water beads down my back. I have tried to push Carly Jo out of mind over the last week, but every mornin’ when I open my eyes, she’s the first thing I see. With every thought that runs through my mind, she’s there. I can’t turn away from her, I love her too much. But I don’t know how to move forward from here. We both have a lot of heartache that we need to heal from, but maybe we need to battle our own demons before we collide our worlds together.

Turnin’ the shower off, I step out and dry off. After gettin’ dressed, I find Heidi Jo sittin’ at the kitchen table colorin’ a picture. “Ready for some rocky rode ice cream, baby girl?”

She shakes her head, as she continues to color, “Not yet, Daddy, I’m almost finished with Carly Jo’s picture. You’re just gonna have to wait.” Damn, I was really hopin’ she would get this idea out of her mind.

“Princess, I was thinkin’ we would go for ice cream tonight, just you and me like always. We’ll go see Carly Jo some other time, okay?” She shakes her head again, as she grips the crayon tighter, making darker shades of yellow for the rays of the sun in her portrait. “What are you drawin’ anyways?”

She continues her art, ignorin’ me. I can tell that she’s gettin’ frustrated, so I give her a couple more minutes to finish her picture. As I sit and watch her color, I see that she has drawn a picture of a little girl on a swing, and a woman pushin’ the swing from behind. I smile, because I know that this is a picture of her and Carly Jo.

Layin’ the crayon down, Heidi Jo looks up at me with swelled chocolate eyes, and tears the size of rain drops slidin’ down her face. Pickin’ her up, I sit her down in my lap, and ask her what’s wrong. She cries for a few minutes, and I let her. After her cries have softened, she climbs out of my lap, grabs the picture then goes to the livin’ room to slide on her flip flops. “I’m ready to go now, Daddy.” Heidi Jo says in a small, sad voice. She isn’t pouty, but simply sad.

I let Momma know we’re goin’ out for ice cream, then walk Heidi Jo out to my truck. We drive to the ice cream shop in silence, which is unlike Heidi Jo, because the girl never shuts up. 

We share a bowl of rocky rode ice cream, but Heidi Jo’s spirits still ain’t lifted. My little girl is shatterin’ my already broken heart.  As we drive home, I look in my rear view mirror and see that she still looks sad, so I take a little detour.  We pull into the driveway, and I open the door, to get Heidi Jo from the back seat.

“You brought the picture you made for Carly Jo, right?”

Givin’ me a puzzled look, she looks around me to see that we ain’t home, but we’re at Carly Jo’s house. She grabs the picture then jumps into my arms. I set her down on the ground, straightenin’ her tutu for her.

“Now listen, you go on up there, ring the doorbell and give her this picture. But we can’t stay, ‘kay?” She just smiles and nods, as she turns on her heels, and races toward the front porch. I lean against the door of the truck, and wait for her.

She rings the door bell, then glances back at me with a light smile, as she shifts her weight from side to side. As the door opens, Heidi Jo jumps into Carly Jo’s arms and shrills, “Carly Jo, I missed you!”

Carly Jo braces herself from Heidi Jo’s weight and laughs. She sets Heidi Jo down, and Heidi Jo gives her the picture she drew for her. They talk for a minute, then Heidi Jo hugs Carly Jo tight around her waist, before she comes bouncin’ down the sidewalk, back to the truck.

I fasten her into her seat belt tight. Just as I climb behind the wheel of my truck, I hear Carly Jo callin’ my name. I look up to see her on the front porch. She waves and smiles before she says, “Thank you!” With a wink, I return the smile and back out of her driveway. A tiny little piece of my shattered heart fell into place with just glance at her smile.

“Baby girl, did seein’ Carly Jo make your night?”

“Yes Daddy, thank you so much.”

“Heidi Jo, why were you so sad about not gettin’ to see her tonight?” Heidi Jo falls silent. I look back in my rear view mirror and see that she is ponderin’ on what response to give. “Never mind, baby girl. You don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to. Daddy loves you, Heidi Jo.”

Heidi Jo smiles back at me and says in her cute, squeaky little voice, “I love you too, Daddy.” Okay, two pieces of my shattered heart have fallen back into place.