Bent not Broken (175 page)

“Caroline…” His eyes are tentative. He takes another step back and holds my hands, bringing them up to his lips, one knuckle at a time.

I don’t even know what I want. I want to forget; I want to remember. I want Isaiah back and all that we had before it was all destroyed. I want to forget all the ugliness and remember the good. I want to remember who I can be and forget the scarred girl who has no one. Hearing that it’s finally finished is intoxicating. And it seems like a lifetime that I’ve been looking over my shoulder for one reason or another. No more. I don’t want to be fragile another day of my life. I’m desperate to have some life sparked back in me again.

“Isaiah…” I say and close some of the space between us.

He nervously smiles at me, confused by my boldness. I know he doesn’t want to make a wrong move with me. I’m sorry that he has to deal with such a conundrum. A teenage boy in a motel room with the girl he loves, and all outside influences completely out of the picture should feel like an opportune moment to seize.

“I need to wipe the visions of…everything…out of my mind.” Tears burn my eyes and I angrily swipe them away. “Every time I lie down at night, they’re all I see.” My voice cracks. “I used to see you and that’s what I want... “

“I’m just not sure you’re ready for this, Caroline. You know I want to. I always want to be with you.” He pulls me in and places his chin on my shoulder.

“I need new memories of us,” I whisper.

I know it doesn’t make much sense when I say it out loud, but for me, tonight, it’s the only way I can imagine putting Les and Leroy out of my mind.

Isaiah takes a huge breath. “I just don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.” He leans back and stares me down. “I couldn’t take that. Just make sure that if you start changing your mind, you’ll tell me.” He grins his stop-my-heart grin and tugs on my hair. “I’m happy just looking at you.”

“You are all that is good, Isaiah.”

****

It really does help.

I was afraid I would never want to do that. Ever. But with Isaiah, it’s just right. The hollowed-out hole that’s been residing in my chest fills just a little and I feel almost like myself again.

Much, much later, when our eyelids finally begin to droop, Isaiah looks at me tenderly and tells me how much he loves me.

“I love you too.” I sleepily smile back.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for about the tenth time.

All through the night, he has made sure I’m not hurting or uncomfortable and that I want to continue with every step we take.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

And I mean it. If he’ll just hold me every night like this for the rest of my life, I will be okay.

****

I sleep a deep, dreamless sleep and wake up feeling I have slept for twelve full hours, instead of the actual four. My legs are tangled around Isaiah’s, and he’s watching me, holding his breath. I smile at him and sigh when I see the immediate relief wash over his face. He must have been worried about the emotions the morning light might bring. I move my head onto his chest and try to reassure him that I’m right where I want to be.

We finally untangle ourselves from each other and decide we have to eat sometime. We take a long shower and get dressed, stopping to kiss each other again before we go out the door.

Isaiah groans. “You keep kissing me like this, I won’t need any food ever again.”

Suddenly I don’t want to share him with anyone, so I put my hand on his arm and say, “How about we drive through somewhere and bring it back here?”

He nods and backs me against the wall, kissing me. “Sounds good to me.”

Eventually we get in his car and drive through a McDonald’s, something we never get to eat at home. His hand is on my leg while he drives and when we stop to place our order, we can’t take our eyes off of each other. We order and as soon as we get our food, we head back to the room and spend the rest of the day and night intoxicated with each other. Every minute with him heals me.

****

The next morning, we walk to Shoney’s. I’m starving and have a hankerin’ for their pancakes. I smile brightly at Joann when I see her. “I was just missing it over here.” I shrug, thinking she will laugh.

She doesn’t say anything, but seats us near the back of the restaurant. I don’t think much of it, just that she must not be in a great mood. When I see her walk over to the waitresses and say something and then they all look over at us, I get an uneasy feeling.

We sit in the booth, memories of the time in our room making us shy with one another in the daylight. I think surely there must be a sign blinking over my head, letting the world know that I’ve been misbehaving for two days straight.

Isaiah smiles over at me. “You look like you have a secret,” he whispers.

“It’s a good one,” I whisper back with a huge smile.

I didn’t know I could feel this lighthearted. Hope is crawling its way back into my guts.

My stomach is rumbling, and Isaiah’s is too. A half hour passes and still no one comes to take our order. I see several opportunities when Joann seems free, but she doesn’t come. Isaiah doesn’t complain, but I can tell he’s noticing the stares. My joy is beginning to fade as I realize none of them want to come wait on us.

A tall man with a burly beard that I hadn’t even noticed walks up to our table. He stands over us, glowering. “I don’t know where you two are from, but around these parts we don’t do this.” He wags his finger back and forth between Isaiah and me. He leans down and gets in Isaiah’s face. “You need to get out of here, boy…before I show you what we do to niggers like you who think they’re white.” He walks over to the booth across from us and stares us down. I guess he thinks he’ll do that until we get out of here.

I start shaking and Isaiah holds onto my hand tight. Joann comes to our table then and quietly says, “You’re making some people uncomfortable in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Sorry, Caroline.”

I’m in such shock that I don’t even say anything back. I wish I had. I wish I’d told both of them to stick it where the sun and moon and stars and comets and everything else…don’t shine.

I stand up and hold my hand out. Isaiah takes it and we walk out. Our mood subdued, we walk hand in hand to the edge of the street and wait until there’s a chance to cross it. The guy in the car takes a double look at us and begins yelling awful things out the window. Isaiah grips my hand harder, and we cross the street in a hurry. We make sure no one is watching as we enter the room and close the door, locking it behind us.

“This is crazy.” Isaiah walks to the window and peeks out. “I’ve gotta get you out of here. Let’s go to California. Things are different there.”

“How would we get there? We have to work to get enough money for that. I’m gonna have to get a new job now. And what about Sadie? You can’t leave her in Tulma. That would devastate her.”

“She knows I’m not happy without you. We’ll get there. Let me worry about the details.”

Shaken and upset that the whole air in the room has shifted once again to turmoil, I sit on the bed and feel exhausted. Isaiah comes and sits on the bed beside me. He takes my hand in his. “We’re hungry. I’m gonna go get you something to eat. I saw a Popeye’s just a street over.”

I nod.

He kisses me and says, “I love you, Caroline Carson.”

“I love you, Isaiah Washington.”

He grins. “That’s enough for me,” he says as he walks out the door.

Chapter 17

Ancient

He’s gone for a minute and I start piling my clothes into the suitcase and hurriedly write a note.

Dear Isaiah,

I love you. Never question that.

The last two days are something I’ll never ever forget. I’m so grateful to you for showing me what love really is. You’ve always had my heart and you always will. Always.

I can’t do this to you. I can’t, Isaiah. It will ruin your life to be with me. I love you too much to let that happen. Go home. Be happy. Find someone that you’re meant to be with…I know it will happen. You have too much love in you to not make someone so happy. It can’t be me. Deep down, I know you realize this is true.

Please don’t look for me.

Love,

Caroline

I practically run to the car and pull out of the parking lot, tears running down my face and neck. I don’t even think about where I’m going, I just drive and drive and drive and don’t stop until I have to get gas. It’s a good thing there’s hardly anyone else on the road. I couldn’t say if I swerve or not. I’m just moving forward. I try not to think about how Isaiah felt when he realized I left. I try to only think about how much happier his life will be without all the sorrow that I’ve brought into it.

I go through Nashville and find myself in Kentucky. Spotting a motel ahead, I pull off the road. There’s a young girl in the office and I ask if there’s an available room. She studies my face and takes in the splotches, puffy eyes, and red nose, and quickly hands me a key. She catches herself staring and smiles sweetly at me and says in a slow, thick drawl, “We serve a little breakfast from 6-9. Come on back here and we’ll fix up your day.”

I nod and head out the door, quickly pulling up to my room. My bag is heavier than a hundred-pound barbell. I close the door and lock it behind me. I go to the bathroom and crawl into the bed.
I am ancient.

I look at the clock. It has been an eternity since last night when I was thinking the world had turned right side up with Isaiah.

My bones are tired. Aching. It’s taking over, suffocating me. My body is slowly atrophying from every injustice it has suffered. Every grief, crippling. The pleasure from the last two days plays topsy-turvy in my mind, and it doubles me over that I will never see Isaiah again. I’ve lived a thousand deaths and can’t live through another one.

Please, God, don’t let me live through another one.

****

It’s morning before I fall asleep. I hear a faint knock on the door and someone saying, “Housekeeping” but I can’t shake the sleep enough to answer the door. They knock a few raps more and then go on their way.

When I wake again, it’s dark outside. I doze back off and it’s morning again the next time I’m awake. I want to go back to sleep and never wake up, but I’m too hungry. My stomach is so empty, it turns over and I think I might be sick. I shower and decide to see if I can still get breakfast from the motel.

The girl lights up when she sees me walk in. “Hello! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay. Would you like some breakfast?”

She leads me into the side room and there’s a small kitchen with a bar and stools. I sit down on one of the stools and watch her work. She’s so happy to have a guest that she chats the entire time she prepares the food.

“How long are you in town?” She uncovers a pan that has rising biscuit dough.

“I’m not really sure.” I watch as she places the biscuits in the oven and stirs the sausage gravy on the stove.

“Oh well, where are you headed?”

“I’m not sure of that either.”

“Oh…” Unsure of where to go next with this one-sided conversation, she doesn’t let that stop her for long.

A few minutes later, she pipes up, “Well, Bardstown is a very nice place to live. It’s beautiful here. We just need a few more young people.”

She laughs and her eyes disappear. She cracks two eggs into a frying pan and I watch the bacon grease sizzle around the eggs.

I wonder how old she is. She looks young—my age, maybe even younger. It’s hard to tell though, if she might just be trying hard to look older. She’s petite and has her blonde hair sitting on top of her head. Her nails are painted red and she has blue eye shadow piled on thick.

I decide to jump in since she’s trying so hard. And I’m curious. “Have you always lived here?”

“Yes, ma’am, I was born and bred right here. My family opened this motel twenty-five years ago and we’ve grown up running this place. Wantin’ to turn it into apartments to have something steadier, but…we’ll see. My sister ran off to Louisville a year ago and I’ve been working in here full time since then.” Her voice softens and she reaches across the counter and hands me a plate of eggs and biscuits and gravy. “My dad passed away five years ago and my mama hasn’t been well for a while now.”

She turns around and begins filling the sink with soapy water.

“This looks delicious, thank you.”

“You’re welcome! I love it when we have someone staying here. It gets lonely sometimes. Sure don’t see girls your age around here very often.”

I take a bite of biscuit and it’s just right. “Mmm…so good.”

“I’m glad you like it. My mama is the best cook this side of Kentucky. She wouldn’t let me do it any way but good.” She pauses a minute. “So where are you from?”

I hesitate before answering. “A really small town in Tennessee—Tulma?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Never heard of it, but that don’t mean much. I don’t get out any.”

I blink back the tears that threaten to start. The lump in my throat grows with her simple kindness. I concentrate on the food and try to swallow the ache away.

“Sure would be nice if you’d stay a while,” she says shyly.

Before I have a chance to think about it, the words are coming out of me. “Well, I think I might. You don’t know of any work available around here, do you?”

Her ears move up, she smiles so big. “I sure do. Just yesterday, Shelby, from across the street,” she points out the window and I turn around to see a small restaurant, “tried to convince me to come cook for her. I told her I had my hands full running this place, but she’s been runnin’ all over hell’s half-acre.”

I smile at the expression. Nellie used to say that.

“Shelby
stays
busy, a lot busier than us.” She bites her lip as she finishes the last swipe of the counter and pauses before setting the rag down. “And I’d be willin’ to give you a good deal on a little bigger room that you could stay in as long as you needed.”