Authors: Varian Johnson
I grabbed the phone. Twelve missed calls.
I started to speed-dial my parents, but I knew I wasn’t in any condition to speak to them. Instead, I called Tony.
“Joshua, where the hell are you?”
I held the phone a little farther away from my ear. “I’m sorry. I should have called last night, but I was preoccupied.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “You’re with Madeline, aren’t you?”
“Tony, I need you to call my parents. Tell them I’m okay, and that I’ll call them this evening.”
“Josh …”
“I’ll fill you in later. Call my parents, okay?” Before Tony could argue, I hung up and turned off my phone.
“So what happened last night?” I asked.
“You got drunk.” She untucked her legs from out of her T-shirt. Briefly, I saw a flash of black lace. “I ordered us some sandwiches. You need to eat.” She walked to the table. “You’ll feel better after you get something in your stomach.”
The events of that morning flooded back into my head. “I don’t know if I should eat. I threw up this morning.”
“And last night.”
I stood and looked down at my chest, then searched the floor. “Where’s my shirt?”
“I tossed it in the Dumpster last night. You threw up all over it.” She grabbed a Styrofoam container and sat on the bed. “What the hell did you eat for lunch, by the way?”
“I didn’t eat lunch. I was too busy looking for you.”
Madeline bowed her head and whispered a few words under her breath. There was still a slight trace of purple on her lips. After she finished praying, she looked at me. “First rule of drinking: Don’t get wasted on an empty stomach.”
I grabbed my food and sat down at the desk. I mumbled a quick blessing, and opened my eyes to see Madeline staring at me.
“Do you have a standard prayer that you say when you bless your food?” she asked.
“I used to. But lately, I’ve found that I pray for random things. Like just now, after thanking God for providing this food, I also asked him to look after my parents, to help them not to worry about me.” I picked up a french fry and took a nibble of it. “I also thanked him for helping me find you.”
Madeline fingered her necklace. “Funny. I thanked him for the same thing.”
We munched on our food in silence, pausing every few bites to flash timid smiles at each other. It was nice being there with her, without words.
“You’re pretty quiet over there,” she said. “Maybe your tongue finally got tired after all the talking you did last night. You were quite the chatterbox.”
I didn’t like the way she was grinning. “What did I say?”
“I think your exact words were, ‘You have the most beautiful, grandiose, gargantuan breasts I have ever seen.’” She smiled even wider. “Then you squeezed my nipple.”
“Good Lord.” I turned away from her. “Please don’t tell me anything else. I don’t think I can take it.”
“Don’t worry, that was as bad as it got. We kissed a little, but you fell asleep before anything else could happen.” She paused to take a sip of water. “But that was probably for the best. Take it from me—drunk sex sucks.”
I wanted to nod, but I wasn’t so sure I agreed with her. Of course, I wasn’t sure if I disagreed with her, either.
I glanced at the lumpy pillow on the floor. “How did I end up down there?”
“That’s where we happened to be when you fell asleep. And as much as I like you, I was
not
going to sleep on the floor with you.” She brushed her bangs to the side of her face. “I was a little jealous—you were out like a log. I bet you could have slept through an earthquake.”
I took another bite of my ham and cheese sandwich. It tasted like cardboard. “You didn’t sleep well?”
She shook her head. “I eventually fell asleep around eight o’clock this morning. But, if I’d known you were going to wake me up twenty minutes later, I would have stayed up and finished my book.”
“You read last night?”
She nodded. “I have a really hard time going to sleep at night. Too many thoughts—too many memories keep running through my head.” She glanced at the bottle of tequila. “It used to be that a few shots would put me out, but that doesn’t even seem to work anymore.”
I put my sandwich down. “Madeline. Last night … what you said about you and the preacher—”
“Don’t start, Joshua. I’m not in the mood.” She started eating again. “As soon as I finish my sandwich, I’m going to take a shower. After I get out, you should do the same. Then I think you’d better go home.”
“Like this? Are you crazy?”
“All you did was get drunk and stay out all night.
It sounds bad, but believe me, it could have been a lot worse.”
I stared at Madeline, but she was too preoccupied with her sandwich to look back at me. She wore basically nothing, and she looked more beautiful than ever. Not necessarily sexy, but lavishly beautiful.
“Are you still leaving town?” I asked.
“As soon as I can cash my check.” She glanced at her watch. “Being that it’s so late, it’ll probably be tomorrow before I leave.”
“You want me to take you by the coffee shop?”
“Sure. But no questions about me and the preacher, okay?”
I nodded, and my head screamed in pain.
* * *
I watched Madeline race across the street, her large purse flapping against her side. We were at our second stop, the bank. She had changed into her usual fare: a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops. I was wearing recycled underwear and jeans, and according to the label on my shirt, my name was Frank and I worked at Lindsey’s Brake Repair.
Once Madeline disappeared into the building, I flipped open my cell phone and made a call.
“Joshua?” Dad answered. He sounded like he hadn’t slept in a week.
“It’s me,” I said. “I’m sorry for not calling sooner.”
“Hold on a second.” I heard him mumble something far away from the receiver. “Your mother’s going to get on the line as well.”
“I don’t want to talk to her.”
“You’re not in a position to make any demands,” he said. A few seconds later, Mom picked up the phone.
“Joshua, baby? Are you okay? Is everything all right?”
“I’m okay.” I nodded, as though that would validate my words. “Did Tony call?”
“He just left a few minutes ago,” Dad said. “He told us you were with Madeline.”
“Joshua, is this because of what I did?” Mom’s voice shook. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Mom, it’s not because of that.” I was still mad at her, but it tore me up inside to hear her pleading with me. “I’m trying to convince Madeline to stay in town.”
“She’s not going back to Virginia?” Dad asked.
“She refuses to go back, and I don’t blame her.” I took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m calling. I need a big favor. Can Madeline stay with us for a while?”
“I don’t know,” Dad said. “Maybe your mother and I should talk about this first.”
“There’s not enough time for that. I’m pretty sure I can stop her from running off, but only if she has someplace to stay.”
“Joshua, I’m sorry,” Mom said. “I just don’t trust her.”
“You don’t have to trust
her.
Trust me.” I closed my eyes. “Proverbs, chapter one, verse eight.”
At first I thought my folks had hung up, they were so quiet. Finally, Dad spoke. “‘Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.’”
“You guys have taught me everything I know.” My
hand was sweaty against the phone. “Please. Help me. I know I’m doing the right thing.”
“Joshua …” Mom’s voice was faltering.
“I admit, she’s made mistakes. But it’s not our place to judge her. ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’”
“Are you going to quote every verse in the Bible?” Mom asked.
“Yes, if that’s what it takes.”
Dad sighed. “Lily, he’s a good kid. And more importantly, he’s right.”
Mom didn’t reply, but I could hear her breaths. They were quick and shallow, the total opposite of Dad’s.
“Hold on for a minute, Joshua,” Mom said. “Your father and I need to talk.”
“But—”
“We’ll be back in a second,” she said. “Just hold on.”
I heard some mumbling, but I couldn’t make out any words. I glanced at the bank. Madeline had made it to a teller.
A voice got louder on the other end of the phone. “Joshua, this is your mother. I asked Isaiah to hang up so we could talk privately. I just need to talk to my son—my baby—without you or your father trying to quote every damn verse in the Bible.”
My mouth dropped open. Mom had cursed.
“Now look,” she continued. “I’m sorry for saying all those things about Madeline to her father. When I told you to stop seeing her, it wasn’t because I thought she was a bad person. I was just trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“Yes, you do, whether you realize it or not. You’re like your father—stubborn and righteous, filled with the belief that you can save anyone. The problem is, unlike your father, you’re a seventeen-year-old kid.” She sighed. “I don’t trust Madeline, Joshua, but I trust you. So if you say she needs help, we’ll help her.”
I wished more than anything that I was with Mom at that point. I had never wanted to hug her so badly. “I’m going to need a little more time to convince her to stay. I probably won’t be home until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!”
I peered at the bank again. Madeline was stuffing something into her purse and heading toward the car. “Mom, trust me, okay?”
“You’ve got one more day,” she said. “Tomorrow afternoon, your butt better be back in this house, or I swear, God Himself won’t be able to save you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I scooted lower in the seat so Madeline couldn’t see me on the phone. “I’d better get off—”
“Wait,” Mom said. “I don’t want any details of where y’all are staying or what you’re doing. I just want you to promise me you’ll be … responsible.”
My face flashed hot. “Mom, we haven’t—we’re not going to—”
“Promise me.”
I huffed. “I’ll be safe. I promise. Now I really need to get off the phone. I love you guys. Bye.”
Just as I was putting the phone back into my pocket,
Madeline opened the passenger-side door. “Everything work out okay?” I asked.
She nodded, although she didn’t look at me. “No problems at all. Since Dad’s listed on my account, I figured he would try to put a hold on my checking account and credit cards, but I don’t think he even tried.” She slumped into her seat. “It’s like he’s begging me to run off.”
I started up the car, then grabbed her hand. “You hungry?”
She shook her head, still staring into space.
“Maybe we should stop by the nursing home,” I said. “You could say good-bye to the old-timers.”
Madeline didn’t reply. I took her silence as affirmation, and headed down the street.
* * *
As soon as we entered the rec room, Ms. Beatrice waved to us. “You’ll never guess what happened,” she said. “Rollins beat Leonard at chess.”
“Damn straight,” Mr. Rollins said. He was almost doubled over in his wheelchair, although he raised his head slightly to look at us. Well, to look at Madeline. “It took me five years, but I finally beat him.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, you got me,” Leonard chimed in. “Now, why don’t you calm down a little. You know you ain’t supposed to be getting all excited.”
Ms. Beatrice fanned her hand at Mr. Rollins. “Come on, Carl. You’ve had enough fun. Why don’t you lie down for a spell?”
Mr. Rollins had lost a few pounds since the last time I saw him; his skin flapped loosely underneath his jaw. He narrowed his eyes at Ms. Beatrice. “Last time I checked, you weren’t my wife.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Since when has that stopped me from bossing you around.”
Mr. Rollins’s rebuttal was offset by a violent coughing attack. He hunched over even farther, his knees pushing into his chest.
The scowl on Ms. Beatrice’s face melted away. “Oh, Carl …”
Mr. Rollins finally stopped coughing. “Perhaps I’ll lie down, just for a little bit.”
Madeline placed her hand on the back of his wheelchair. “Why don’t I walk back with you?”
Mr. Rollins smiled, displaying the huge gap between his front teeth. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”
“Come on, honey,” Ms. Beatrice said to Madeline. “I’ll walk with you.”
Once Madeline wheeled Mr. Rollins away, Leonard turned to me. “He sho’ looked happy, didn’t he?”
I nodded and sat down at the table. “I can’t believe he finally won.”
Leonard motioned for me to move closer. “I let him win,” he whispered. “You think after all these years I was gonna forget about his rook sitting in the corner of the board? I may be getting senile, but I ain’t
that
crazy.”
“He’s really sick, isn’t he?”
Leonard nodded. “I figured for once, he should win at somethin’.” He fiddled with one of the remaining pawns on the board. “Rollins has been fighting his whole life. I think that’s ’bout the only thing he’s good at. Sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses, but he keeps fightin’.”
“That was very noble of you.” I picked up one of the pieces. “You want to play a quick game?”
His eyes crinkled. “I didn’t know you played chess.”
“Well, I’ve never actually played before.” I began placing the pieces back on the board. “But I’ve watched you and Mr. Rollins enough to get the general rules of the game.”
Leonard helped me finish setting up the board. “I really appreciate you playing with me. I just hope you don’t get as mad as Rollins does when I whup him.”
“Maybe I’ll surprise you and win.”
“Maybe.” He slid the last piece into place. “But probably not.”
* * *
After Leonard very thoroughly and very quickly beat me at two chess games, I got up to find Madeline.
I stopped by Ms. Beatrice’s room first. She was leaning back in her recliner, watching a sitcom.
“Joshua, you still here?” She grabbed her remote and muted the television. “I figured you’d left by now.”
“I was waiting for Madeline. She hasn’t made it back to the rec room yet.”
“Lord, she must still be talking to Carl. He’s been telling
everyone
his life story.” She snorted. “Like someone cares ’bout that old fool.”