Authors: Jason Conley
24
The sun shone through the leaves forming a beam of light and warmth on Carissa’s face. She woke almost surprised to find herself sleeping on the old chair in the woods. She rose to a sit and felt soreness spread through her tightened muscles. She stood and gave a long grunt as she stretched, feeling a rush of blood through her body. The cramping in her stomach had subsided. She opened her pants and examined the pad. It was almost soaked through but she did not seem to be bleeding heavy anymore. Carissa made her way through the woods and back onto the lonely Sunday street, the memories of the night before not quite letting go.
The final streetlamp flickered to its nocturnal end as the sun rose above the roof-top peaks. Carissa’s shoes tapped the asphalt as the birds started their morning song. A crisp breeze blew across her face. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the soft staleness of the still fall, not quite winter day. The coldish air stung her lungs. She let a soft breath out and smiled. As much as Carissa hated the nights, the daybreak brought to her the new life of a future not yet written. In the first rays of dawn, Carissa was not an outcast. She was not tainted. She was not her father’s whore. She was not a may or may not be-expecting abomination’s mother. She was Carissa. Carissa just…was…in the morning light.
Carissa walked through the streets aimless and disjointed. She made her way down blocks she had seen maybe once or twice in her life. Every house seemed new as she admired the way some shadowed gables crept sliding curves off the hard lines of other porch fascia in the yellow light.
Carissa looked into the open windows. It was not a spectacular sight. Nothing seemed different about this neighborhood from hers. Some had families milling in the front rooms, others had people putting their final touches on their ties, and then others were rushing to cars for church or breakfast she assumed. While the houses were prettier and the yards better kept and the cars different, they all seemed to have an every-other-Sunday-in-every-other-neighborhood air. Carissa wondered how many of these houses kept the remanence of a family. How many of these homes have killed their children’s future? How many of the houses held what Carissa has been left with?
Not many.
Carissa was now watching her feet as she tried to get out the neighborhood as quick as possible. Even though she had only been in this neighborhood a few times, the street names were the same, only on a different side of town. She took the next left, turned right two blocks later, crossed a highway, and was back into the streets she had always known. It struck Carissa odd that only three blocks separated the two neighborhoods yet she still did not know anyone on the street.
It’s probably better that way.
Carissa found herself standing once again in front of her home. Only this time, it felt different. Although she felt the tingles in her chest, she was not scared or excited. She felt no anticipation. She knew what she was going to find. She knew Casey was gone. Lea would not be watching television. Her father, well, she did not know what her father would be doing. She would not be telling him anything or confronting him so she was not nervous. She could not quite put a word to what she was experiencing.
With heavy breath, Carissa walked up the stairs. This time she did not pause. She did not consider squeaking steps or how fast she opened the door. She stepped into the living room, looked left and right, and then made her way through the hall and into her room. She heard Randy’s voice having what sounded to be a one way conversation just beyond his bedroom door. By the “But...hey…jus…na…b,” being uttered, Randy sounded as if he was on the wrong side of the one-way chat.
Carissa closed her door behind her. Not much had changed since the night before, except her comforter was on the floor. And…this did not feel like her room anymore. She knew with all certainty that she was in her room. Most of her clothes were in the floor. The bed she had slept on since she was twelve was there. Even most of Lea’s stuff was still there, but none this seemed to matter. Carissa’s night had changed her. It occurred to her this would never be her home again.
Carissa reached in her dresser and grabbed some clean underwear; she pulled a pair of pants from the closet and found a shirt from the floor that she was sure she could wear one more time. She held it by each arm stretching the sleeves wide so she could make sure there were no crusted spots. She tucked the clothes under her arms and headed for the bathroom.
Carissa took off her clothes and stood looking at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, she had red imprints on her back from the springs of the ratty clearing chairs, and small distinct bruises on her forearms.
Fingerprints.
The bruises were small, tender reminders of how much Randy cared. She wrapped her hand tight, as tight as she could get it, around her opposite wrist. The pain was there but not intense. She wiped her hand across her soft but disheveled face. Then she just stared into her own eyes. She was ashamed. She had let so much happen. She ran Casey off, she disappointed her father, she hit him, and she hurt her friends. She hated herself this morning. She hated everything she was and had been and will become. She hated Carissa.
Estranged.
Carissa found the word.
The warm shower relieved Carissa’s aching muscles for the time being. She bent at the waist and with a snap lunged her hair forward. She took a towel and wrapped it around her still sopping hair. She took another towel and dried her body. She slid her panties over her legs, her pants followed. She then grabbed her fresh bra. When she reached for the back clasp, her shoulders stiffened.
“Carissa,” she heard Randy at the door. Randy wrapped his knuckles twice again, hard. “Carissa.”
“Yes, daddy,” she said. There was no need to sound cute.
“You have a letter on your bed,” he was stern. “Three day suspension. I hope you’re happy. I have to meet with her father tomorrow to set up a payment schedule and beg that he doesn’t fucking sue us.” Randy stood at the door. He half waited for her to scream at him but knew she would not.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Carissa offered, not knowing what else to say. Carissa heard his footsteps echo down the hall. She heard the front door open then close. She was not sure if he had left or was just stepping outside, but she was sure she did not care.
Carissa knelt down to get the blown dryer from underneath the sink. It was not there, among most of the other hair gadgets. So, she massaged the water from her hair the best she could with the towel. Grabbed a brush, which there were plenty of, and raked it through her hair. While not strong, she pulled hard to release the tangles. Now, her hair looked like a stringy but an attempted mess. She put on her shirt, pulled her hair through the collar, and wrapped a pony tail tight.
Carissa peeked into the hall. There was no one home. Randy had left. Maybe he had somewhere he needed to be or he was leaving so Carissa could not see the bruises under his eyes, but Carissa realized it again, she did not care. She crossed the hall and closed her bedroom door.
Carissa saw the white paper resting on her bed. She looked at the letterhead with its pressed seal making it an “Official Millard Johnston High School Notice”. The font was large and black. The emblem had some gold-looking leaf to ensure the yellowed glare imposed a certain amount of intimidation with the right amount of severity. She read through the letter. It was addressed to both her and April. It began professionally:
Dear aforementioned students,
Investigation has revealed that you have both been involved in an altercation resulting in physical violence and the discovery of illegal narcotics. Although, authorities will not be pursuing legal actions in either matter, it is still the duty of this office to ensure the safety of all students. You are hereby suspended from school for no less than 3 class days. Any questions can be forwarded to the schools office of attendance.
Sincerely,
Ronald Greenville
Principal
25
Carissa looked at the burgundy door. The knocker was a cold dark thing but ornate with elegant curves colliding at the center. It can came to a point with a large half ball striker that met perfect to the center of brass plate she figured was glued to the door seeing as there were no nails or screws visibly holding it in place. The handle, in the same ornate style, curved down and then out with a small thumb press at the top.
Carissa waited. For what, she did not know. She may have been hoping that the door would swing open and he would be standing there, happy to see her. Or, she might knock and no one would answer and the anxious wrench she was feeling would subside and all been for not. Maybe, she would turn to leave without knocking and none of this would have happened. She would cross him again soon by chance and pick up where they had left off. None of these scenarios happened.
Carissa clasped the knocker, lifted, and held it for a moment. She still had the chance to turn away or go home or run or anything else but knock on the door. She could just lay the knocker down and walk to April’s and maybe she would see him later. But, she knocked.
Carissa heard rapid footsteps then the door flew open. “Hey,” she said rubbing her hands together, her face turning a lite shade of pink.
“Hey,” Rob said. He stood in the threshold for a moment. He looked surprised to see Carissa. He was in fact already wearing a jacket and shoes, both which he never wore unless he was already going out.
They both stood there looking at each other. It had been a little over a week since he had asked Carissa to the movies. Since then, they had only seen each other in passing. They had said pretty much nothing to each other. Carissa, of course, had been preoccupied with David. Rob, on the other hand, had been angry. He was hurt and he was mad about that. He had not wanted to see Carissa let alone talk to her. However, she was standing on his front porch, on Sunday, visibly shaken. No matter what the distance was between them now, in that moment, Rob was still her friend. He was still the boy that beat the shit out of a guy for bothering her. He was the guy that watched as she fell for some boy that she hardly knew. He was who she came to, right now, in this moment, on this morning. He could tell by the look on her face that she needed him.
“Give me minute,” Rob said stepping back into the house, leaving the door open. He walked over to the table next the couch and picked up the phone. He held the receiver to his ear and dialed the numbers then waited. “Good, you haven’t left yet. Something came up.” He paused. “I know. Find someone else.” Another pause. “No, I’m not.” Another pause. “Okay. Bye.” The phone beeped as he hit the call end button. He placed the receiver back onto its charging port.
Rob stepped back through the door, closing it behind him. Carissa stood in the same spot not wanting to move. She looked into his eyes and waited for him to start the conversation. It was not that she did not want to talk to him; she would not be here if she had not, but she did not know how to start. She knew the moment was fragile and she needed her friend.
This fight had been the first time they had gone without talking since they were in junior high. Rob had decided to join the football team in seventh grade. He was not very popular back then. April, Scott, and Carissa had been his only friends, much like now. He wanted more though. While not as accepted, the football clique in junior was the early development platform for the popular kids in high school. The middle years of school were the launching grounds for the popular kids to develop a well-rounded air of dehumanization that allowed them to freely harass and deject others while learning to ward off inconvenient bouts of conscience pity. After two weeks of practice and one afternoon listening to the other players and the cheerleaders talking about Carissa, Rob decided football players were ass holes and the bitches on the cheer squad were just not for him. But really, he liked the guys but Carissa was what he wanted and if they did not like her, he did not like them. They were not worth his effort.
“So, I haven’t seen you in while.” Rob said to break the silence.
“Yeah,” Carissa said.
“Where’s David?”
“I don’t know. At home, I guess. I don’t want to see him, now.”
“You have fight?”
“No,” Carissa said defensively.
Rob laughed, “Sorry. I was just asking. You haven’t been around and now you’re here. I just assumed you had a fight. So, what are you doing here?”
“This was a mistake.” Carissa said, running her fingers through her hair. She turned. She did not know where she was going but she was leaving.
This was a stupid fucking mistake.
“Carissa, wait!” Rob put his hand on her shoulder. She turned back to him burying her face in chest and wrapping her arms around him. She cried. She cried in a way he had never heard her cry. Everything was coming out, but she said nothing. He put his arms around her. They stood on Rob’s porch, in that spot, on that day, saying nothing else until Carissa had no more tears to cry.
Carissa and Rob walked slowly alongside the idle street. The occasional car would pass but the two were almost eerily alone. People were not mowing their yards. Children were not playing. Even the breeze that accompanied the crisp morning had calmed to a still. The birds were not singing. The stray cats lay still in the sun. Everything was calm.
“Rob, I’m sorry,” Carissa’s said, almost whispered.
“For what?” Rob just wanted to her say it.
“For not,” Carissa’s courage was running on empty. “For not, not looking at you like that.” The words hurt but Rob wanted to hear them. He needed to hear them. He wanted to be Carissa’s friend without all of the awkwardness and the pining and the jealously. He wanted to be simply Carissa’s friend. He loved her and not just romantically. He loved her for everything. She was beautiful, yes, but he loved her. With all his being, he loved her.
“I know.” He said.
“I love you, though. And, yes, it is the way a sister loves her brother.” Even though Rob had his crush, well, crushed, he laughed which made Carissa laugh.
“Friend-zoned!” Rob said making them both laugh harder.
“I know,” She said in between chuckles.
“You,” Rob said changing the subject, “really beat the shit out of Destiny.”
“Yeah, I sure did. I broke her fucking nose. At least, that’s what my dad told.”
“Oh, you broke it. There was blood everywhere. I went to the office and she was sitting in the waiting area. Like, four people were all around her like, ‘Oh, you’re going to be okay.’ She was screaming like she was dying. ‘Why?’ She was trying to get as much sympathy as possible. I heard one the secretaries say that she was surprised this was the first time. It’s pretty funny that everyone knows she’s a bitch. I heard her ‘girls’ rolled over on her, told everyone she started it. I think they were mad because April beat the shit out of them, too. You two are pretty bad ass bitches.”
“Yeah, well, we won’t be taking our prizes anytime soon. Suspended,” Carissa said pointing at her smiling facing. “April too. We got three days.”
“Nice.” Rob laughed.
They strolled down the road talking as if no more distance between them. Even though Rob had pined for her for so long, he was almost relieved that she did not want to be with him. He had always been himself around her just with far more effort than he would have liked. This afternoon felt natural, unforced. He was just Rob and she was just Carissa. It was simple and nothing more. There was no need to impress. There was just the two of them.
“So, Rob.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever looked at the trophy case in front of the school?”
“Yeah, that’s my brother.” Carissa was surprised by the answer. Apparently, she was not the first to ask. “He was way older than me. I don’t even remember him. He was actually a pretty good football player from what I gather from my dad. People loved him. He was pretty outgoing, I guess.”
“So what happened to him?”
Rob told her how his brother Steven had gone out with some friends. They had been drinking and driving the back roads and found a shape turn on a dirt road. They had gone around the corner several times, going faster each time. The last time, the driver lost control and slid into the bar ditch. The car flipped several times and Steve was not wearing a seat belt. He went halfway out the window and was crushed. The others survived. They had told his dad that Stephen cried for about forty-five minutes before the life drained from his body. A tear ran down Carissa’s face as Rob recounted the horrible details of the night. Rob was only two when the accident happened so his recounting for more like news than loss.