Broken (8 page)

Later that afternoon, Anna Mae carried Biology One outside and sat on the porch swing. With the absence of weekday traffic, it was quiet on the hill. The rain and blustery winds had evolved into breezy kitten-soft sunshine, and the thermometer rested at a pleasant 66 degrees. Stanley and Walter were still sleeping. David had gone to Johnny Tamero’s house and Sarah was inside napping on the couch in front of the TV.

Anna Mae braced the book against the arm of the swing. She reached back and undid the rubber band, letting her hair fall forward around her face. The sun’s golden rays caught the wayward strands then reflected down on the book’s glossy pages. She shifted the book to catch the shade and read the chapter title, ‘The Anatomy of a Frog.’

I will learn this stuff if it kills me!
Tracing the words with her index finger, she spent the next twenty minutes reading, occasionally pausing to memorize the spelling of a Latin term.

A faint sound broke her concentration. At the bottom of the porch steps, two robins were tapping their beaks and scratching on the small patch of mud and dead grass that was the Lipinski’s front yard.

While watching the robins, she thought about Aunt Sarah. The morning’s exchange warmed Anna Mae’s heart. Despite the awful circumstances, it was the closest thing to mother-daughter time they had ever shared. She smiled at the robins. They reminded her of the pigeons in front of Vinko’s.
Pigeons. Vinko’s. Joey. Joey Barnes. Mother!

She jumped up, dropped the book, rushed to the top of the steps, and placed her hand on the thin iron railing. As if in a dream, she descended the four steps to the sidewalk. Then she began to run.

Ten minutes later, perspiring and breathless, she burst into Vinko’s Grocery. “Where’s Joey?”

Vinko was arranging long loaves of freshly baked Italian bread. He turned to face her. “Good afternoon, young lady. Do you know you forgot your umbrella yesterday?”

She ignored the question and asked again, “Where’s Joey?”

Now behind the counter, Vinko said, “I don’t know. He’s somewhere around here.”

She quickly left the counter to make a frantic search of the store. When she didn’t find Joey in the aisles or at the produce section, she rushed past the ‘Employees Only’ sign and into the back of the building where Joey Barns was sitting on a box of canned green beans. When he saw Anna Mae, he jumped to his feet. The blush on his face was not unusual. His averted eyes were.

“I’m sorry, Joey,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He ran his huge strong hands down his soiled white apron and looked at the floor.

Vinko stood in the doorway. “Is everything okay back here?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Vinko,” said Anna Mae. “I just need to talk to Joey.”

The grocer stood there for a few seconds, then left.

Anna Mae pushed a wooden stool close to the box of beans. Hesitantly, Joey resumed his seat.

“Joey,” she began, “Yesterday you told me...”

He put his head down, avoiding her eyes.

She touched his hand. “It’s okay, Joey. I’m not mad at you.”

He studied his shoe. “I know.”

“Are you upset because I asked about mother?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His eyes still downcast, he pushed his thinning hair off his forehead and shrugged his shoulders. She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Joey, I just want to know about my mother.”

He glanced her way, swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and said softly, “Your mother will be mad if I tell.”

“She won’t be mad.” Anna Mae sounded calm.

“I can’t tell you. She made me promise.”

Anna Mae’s heart felt as though it would pound out of her chest. Joey clasped his long knobby fingers together with such pressure that they were turning white. Her need to know was greater than her concern for Joey’s discomfort. However, she had to be careful.
Push him too hard and he might clam up.

She took a deep breath. “Joey, if you tell me where my mother is, I’ll tell her I tricked you into telling so she won’t be mad at you.”

He thoughtfully repeated, “She won’t be mad.”

“No. She won’t be mad at you. I promise.”

Joey wrung his hands and wiped them on his apron. His knees were shaking.

She tried again. “You can tell me about knowing my mother. Do you know where she is?”

“I-I-I don’t know where s-s-she is. Sometimes she c-calls me. She wants to know if I seen you. If you come in the store and all—things like that she asks me.”

Anna Mae was barely able to breathe. “Do you remember the last time she called?”

He nodded.

“And when was that?”

He looked at the ceiling.

“Was it last week?”

“No.”

“Last month?”

“M-Maybe. She wanted to know if you was okay. I told her you was fine and that…that you’re real pretty.”

“And she didn’t tell you where she is?”

“No. I think she don’t want nobody to know. It’s a secret.”

Suddenly Vinko appeared in the doorway, holding Anna Mae’s umbrella. “Joey, I need you out front.”

Joey stood up and stepped toward the door.

“Please, Sir,” Anna Mae begged. “Just a few more minutes.”

Vinko looked at Joey who went back to sit on the box. Anna Mae knew that Vinko was wondering what a fifteen-year-old girl could possibly have to talk about with a slightly backward man of thirty-three. But he didn’t ask. He placed the umbrella beside the bean box, touched Joey affectionately on the shoulder, said, “Take your time, kids,” and left.

Joey seemed proud that his boss knew he was having an important conversation. He squared his shoulders, looked Anna Mae straight in the eyes, and said, “I don’t know what it’s okay to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything, Joey. Anything at all.” Fighting tears that were turning Joey’s face into a blur, she pleaded, “You know what it’s like, Joey…not having a mother.”

“You have Miss Sarah.”

“That’s not the same. Please, Joey. I promise I won’t get you into trouble. I just have to know. Don’t you understand?” She was crying now. “Joey! Where is she? Where’s my mother?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean, neatly pressed white handkerchief. “I don’t know where she is. Honest!”

“If she calls you again,” Anna Mae said taking the handkerchief, “will you tell her that I need her? Tell her—tell her I’m having some problems.”

Joey’s face glowed with compassion. Now the stronger of the two, he took her hand and said, “If there’s anything I can do, I will do it. But I have to wait for her to call.”

She wiped the tears from her face. “Joey? Can I ask you one more question?”

He nodded.

She twisted the damp handkerchief, trying to get up her nerve, afraid of an answer yet needing to ask anyway. “Do you know who my father is?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“It’s not important,” she said without emotion.

Anna Mae stood up, walked to the rear door, opened it a crack, and breathed in the fresh air. When she returned Joey said, “I think that maybe when you’re eighteen—maybe then she might want to see you.”

Anna Mae abruptly sat down on the stool. Her words were sharp, almost demanding. “Did she say that? Did my mother say that?”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Anna Mae saw the fear on his face and regretted what must have seemed like an attack. “It’s okay, Joey. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”

“You—you didn’t b-bite it off,” he laughed. “It’s still here.”

She wanted to go on questioning him forever. On the other hand, she knew she had been lucky to learn as much as she did. She also knew how much Joey valued her friendship. She would never deliberately do anything to hurt him.

She placed her hands on his big shoulders and looked into his dark eyes. “You’re my good friend, Joey. I am so grateful that you told me these things. And I promise,” she crossed her heart. “I promise I will never, ever, tell anyone.”

“Joey?” Vinko was standing in the doorway again.

Joey’s eyes questioned Anna Mae. She nodded and they both stood up. Anna Mae wanted to give Joey a big hug, but she just smiled and said, “Thank you, Joey.”

She was half way up the Vickroy street hill before she realized she had, once again, forgotten her umbrella.

Two years later

June 23, 1968

The huge amusement park sprawled colorfully amidst its gray and dismal surroundings. Since 1898, Kennywood Park had been an island of escape for steelworkers and their families; a place to abandon troubles in the back draft of a plunging roller coaster, or to relinquish all sense of balance in the huge, undulating Noah’s Ark. It was the last weekend in June, the school picnic. Inside the park entrance, Anna Mae, with nine-year-old David in tow, waited for Debbie Henderson and Laura Smith.

Anna Mae gazed up at The Old Mill. The modern day reproduction of an outdated essential blended into boulders as old as the park itself. She looked to one side at a huge, simulated grinding wheel. It rotated under a flow of falling water, creating a current that escorted little boats through a winding channel.

Anna Mae was so impressed by the Mill that she failed to watch where she was going. As the couples were passing through the ticket line, she slammed right into Angelo. Laughing, he threw his arms around her. She suddenly realized that soon she would be sitting next to him on a slow ride through a dark tunnel. Her heart fluttered.

Clutching the string of her balloon, she tucked the Teddy Bear under her arm. Angelo helped her into the front seat of the wobbly boat that rocked even harder when Debbie and Jake climbed into the seat behind them. Laura and Tom would be in the next boat. Theirs would be held back for a few moments to insure the first couples an isolated journey.

Pulled by an underwater cable, the boat moved away from the boarding dock and glided slowly into the shadows. As they rounded the first bend, daylight surrendered to the dark. Anna Mae leaned closer to Angelo. He put his arm around her. On the Ferris Wheel, he had had his arm around her. But in this dark tunnel it was different: more intimate.

The little boat turned another bend and Anna Mae marveled at the beauty of a dim blue display of fairies sprinkling shimmering dust onto sleeping flowers. The blue lights evolved into sunshiny yellow, the blossoms opened and Angelo drew her closer. They floated back into the dark then out again to other amusing displays until they reached one long and very dark passageway, so dark she couldn’t see Angelo’s face. She felt his breath on her cheek and said softly, “You smell like hot dogs.”

“Why are you whispering?” he murmured into her ear.

“Why are you whispering?” she countered.

“I asked you first.”

“It’s spooky in here!”

His arm tightened around her. She squeezed the bear against her chest. At home, even when she woke in the middle of the night, it wasn’t this dark. There were always streetlights throwing shadows across her room. But this—this was an eerie solid black!

Suddenly, a flash of blinding white light illuminated the entire underground chamber. Startled, Anna Mae jerked away from Angelo. On a rock above her, shrouded in a web crawling with spiders, sat a hideous green faced witch. Anna Mae’s eyes riveted on the terrifying figure.

In the back of the boat, Debbie and Jake were giggling. Anna Mae tried to assure herself. This is all fake! Her hands tingled. She fought to breathe.

This is not real. Not real! Breathe. That’s it. Just breathe. And don’t look at that witch. Close your eyes.

She could not close her eyes.

The boat moved too slowly.
Was it moving at all?
The bright light began to fade. Another cadaverous crone was alongside the boat. Its talons clawed the air. It cackled madly. She dropped the bear and let go of the balloon. It flew up into a canopy of spider webs.

Please, God! Get us out of here!
Suddenly the gruesome display vanished into darkness and she leaned into the security of Angelo’s arms. Her breathing was almost normal. Then the boat tilted.

“Sit Down!” Angelo yelled.

Jake was standing with one foot in the boat and the other stretched out onto a rock, groping blindly in the dark, trying to grab the string of Anna Mae’s balloon.

“I almost have it!”

“You’re gonna tip us over!”

Still trying to catch the string, Jake staggered to maintain his balance. But he couldn’t do either. He landed on the back seat with enough force to lift the front of the boat. When it dropped back into the channel, water splashed everywhere and Jake couldn’t stop laughing.

“That’s not funny!” Debbie exclaimed.

Angelo mopped his wet face with the tail of his shirt as Anna Mae wiped hers with her hand. The balloon was left behind along with the cackling witch and Anna Mae’s sense of safety.

“I’m so sorry,” said Angelo turning to Anna Mae. “I had no idea they changed so much stuff.”

“I read it in the paper,” Jake said from behind, “They changed it to scare the girls so they’d come leaping into our arms.”

Angelo groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know.”

Anna Mae shuddered. Angelo put both arms around her.

Jake laughed. “That’a boy! See, it worked!”

Anna Mae wondered if Jake was hugging Debbie. She even managed to smile. That’s when Angelo kissed her. He just leaned down and kissed her right on the lips. Just a little kiss. But enough to make her heart skip a beat. “We’ll be out of here soon,” he said.

She heard something. “What’s that pounding?”

“It sounds like a broken gear somewhere ahead of us.”

As the cable continued to pull the boat through the channel, the pounding grew louder. Again, Anna Mae moved away from Angelo. He reached out to her. She shrugged him away.

Gears. He said it was a broken gear.
Her body tensed. It reminded her of what? What was it?

The air around her flickered with yellow light as scattered bursts of simulated fire shot out of the surrounding rocks. The pounding was now almost deafening.

Was someone rocking the boat?
No. It was bumping from the bottom, bouncing her around on the seat. She couldn’t feel her hands.

Dear God, don’t let this happen. Not here. Not now.

Angelo’s strong arms tightened around her. She pushed at his chest. “Let me go!”

His voice came from a distance. “Anna Mae! Don’t look. Just put your head down. Please!”

The pounding grew louder. Her heart raced—her blood fearful in her veins. Then she saw it. Two spotlights streaked down from the stony roof and at the point where the rays came together, a charred body in smoking black rags pushed a wheelbarrow along the edge of the channel. Dangling over the side of the wheelbarrow was the arm of a skeleton. It was so near it brushed the side of the boat.

Please, God, get me out of here!

The pounding—a giant’s footsteps. The earth was shaking. It shook the ground upon which she sat. And there was fire above, fire below. Out there everywhere—with the pounding.

Is that Angelo holding me?
With every ounce of her strength, she pushed at the pressure that was smothering her—at the descending black umbrella. The shiny material gave way to the pressure. It molded itself around her. She couldn’t breathe. Someone was screaming.
Who screamed? Did I scream?
She lunged forward, trying to get out of the boat.

“Hey! Be careful!”
Was that Jake?

I have to get out of here! This is a bad place.
Someone was pulling her shirt. “Let me go!”

The boat rocked violently.

A loud, deep voice penetrated the darkness. “SIT DOWN IN THE BOAT! DO NOT ROCK THE BOAT! SIT DOWN IN THE BOAT! DO NOT ROCK THE BOAT!”

The pounding stopped. The flames vanished. Nothing was real. Where was she?

The shadow people. There they are. Up there—up on the bank—standing—watching—watching me in the brown river. So comfortable. So at peace. In the warm brown water.
It will be okay now. I’ll be okay.
This was the place where nothing could hurt her. The place where, thirteen years ago, a terrified two-year-old had forged the path to a better reality.

*     *     *

Angelo’s embrace completely encompassed the girl in his arms as the boat rounded two more curves and then shot out into the sunlight. Anna Mae, her face against his chest, was strangely quiet. She didn’t seem to be frightened anymore. The ride supervisor, a burly man in a wet shirt, grabbed the side of the boat to stabilize it. He shook his head and grumbled, “That’s the last time you kids get on this ride. Don’t come back.”

As soon as the supervisor tied the boat, Angelo helped Anna Mae onto the dock. He led her to the bench where they had been sitting before the ride. She sat down primly, smiling at him as he sat beside her.

“Well,” said Jake, who stood nearby holding Debbie’s hand, “she sure did get over that fast. What the hell happened in there?”

Before Angelo could respond, Tom said, “I always thought there was something weird about her.”

Debbie shook loose of Jake’s hand. “She’s not weird! She has some problems at home. Big problems.”

Laura began fussing with the mass of red curls that refused to stay on top of her head. “I know,” she said in her most compassionate voice while struggling with a huge hair-clip. “I keep trying to help her come out of her shell. Sometimes it works. Sometimes she gets mad at me.”

“What was she screaming about?” asked Tom.

“Beats me,” said Jake. “Scared me half to death.”

Laura gave up on her hair and let it fall carelessly to her shoulders as Debbie sat beside Anna Mae and handed her the now soiled Teddy Bear.

“Poor Teddy,” Anna Mae said, “How’d he get so dirty?”

Debbie frowned. “He fell into the bottom of the boat.”

Anna Mae turned the bear around in her hands. “Are you giving him to me?”

With a bewildered glance at Angelo, Debbie said to Anna Mae, “Don’t you know he’s yours?”

Anna Mae smiled at her friend, hugged the bear, and said, “Thank you.”

Angelo frowned at Debbie and shook his head. “Leave it alone, Deb. She’s just upset. She’ll be okay. She just needs a few minutes to herself.”

“But…”

“I said she’s okay!”

“Really. I’m fine.”

“But…”

“You go ahead,” said Angelo. “I’ll stay here with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Debbie walked away to join the others who had wandered up the path.

She waited for her friends, she watched the groups of boisterous teenagers, smiled at the young couples holding hands, and wistfully gazed at entire families with grandparents and babies. Finally, Debbie and Laura emerged from the crowd. Like Anna Mae, they wore navy blue shorts and white T-shirts, with Warrenvale High displayed tied into a bright pile on top of her head. Anna Mae touched the long blond braid falling over her left shoulder, thinking the style was outdated. She wished she had let her hair hang loose. After a few excited giggles and some quick comments about the perfect weather, the girls walked three abreast down the wide walkway with David trailing behind.

David yanked the back of Anna Mae’s shirt. “Annie! Look! Look, there’s a merry-go-round. Can I ride it? Huh?”

Pulling her shirt out of his grip, she said, “Maybe later.”

“But Annie...”

“No! Not now.”

If she had been alone with David, she would have rode with him. But there were others to consider. Her sophisticated teenage girlfriends certainly wouldn’t want to be seen riding around in circles on a bunch of wooden horses, so she ignored David’s protests and continued walking. In a few minutes, the three friends reached the first roller coaster, The Racer, twin cars that ran on parallel tracks.

Laura squealed, “Let’s ride!”

“I’ll get sick,” said Debbie.

“No you won’t,” Laura declared.

“Okay,” said Debbie, “I’ll go. But if I puke all over you, don’t say a word.”

As Laura and Debbie elbowed their way toward the ticket line, Anna Mae stayed behind. Laura turned and called out to Anna Mae, “Come on! Let’s go!”

Anna Mae hated Laura’s bossiness. She had good reason not to want to ride the coaster. It might frighten her and she didn’t want to risk having a blackout at the school picnic. She stood in the walkway and didn’t move an inch.

Debbie shouted from the ticket line. “Anna Mae! Where’s David?”

Anna Mae looked around, then spun around, her eyes scanning the crowd. Panicked, she looked toward the boat pond benches across from the coaster. Not there. She stretched on her toes to look back up toward the park entrance. Nothing. She looked down the path toward the crowd standing at the Ferris Wheel. He wasn’t there either.

Debbie ran to Anna Mae. “Do you see him?”

“No! He was here just a minute ago.”

Obviously annoyed, Laura left her place in line. “What’s wrong?”

“David’s missing,” said Debbie.

“He’ll be back,” Laura snapped. “Let’s go!”

Anna Mae tried to sound calm. “You go ahead. I’ll stay here and wait. He’s probably just walking slow.”

Laura put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Good grief, Anna Mae, the kid’s old enough to take care of himself!”