Broken Like Glass (16 page)

“No, honey, we just don’t understand Papa sometimes.”

“Me either. I think some people feel it more than others, too.”

Me and Mrs. Pendleton cackle. Uriah is standing there looking at us like we have lost our marbles, but for once, the weight of the world doesn’t seem to be weighing on my shoulders as heavy.

The next Sunday,
the three of us load up into Uriah’s pickup for church. Mrs. Pendleton asked me to go and there was no way I was telling her no. Uriah drives, she sits in the middle, and I get in last. My ribs still hurt a lot when I move so crawling into a pickup is just not happening.

I haven’t been to church since that Wednesday. I’d forgotten about being all bruised and swollen. People are already staring and I haven’t even gotten out of the pickup yet. Uriah gets out and jogs around the front of the pickup to open the door and help me out, then his momma.

Together, we walk into the church. Pastor Jeffrey is standing at the door, shaking hands with people as they come in. He shakes Mrs. Pendleton’s hand and tells her he’s glad to see her, same with Uriah. When he gets to me, he pauses and then shakes my hand, not saying a word.

Of course, I like to sit in the farthest spot from the pulpit as possible, but that’s not to be. I follow Uriah and his momma until we’re about six rows from the pulpit. In the middle. Where the whole world can look on me and judge.

I’m so uncomfortable I could crawl under a rock, but I make sure my feelings are kept to myself. Mrs. Pendleton cares for me and if she wants to sit here, then this is where I will sit.

We aren’t the first people there, though, but when you go to church every Sunday and Wednesday for as long as Mrs. Pendleton has, people know which seats belong to you and they make sure when you get there, it’s waiting for you.

The church is filling up with people as it gets closer for Pastor Jeffrey to start preaching. Most are casting glances at me. It’s the same, though. I grew up in this church, and I know all of them don’t think much of me. Even if it wasn’t my fault or choice.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and Chrissy is sitting behind me. My ability to look at her is limited so she leans forward, whispering in my ear. “You coming to see me tomorrow?”

“I guess.”

“Good. I’ve missed our talks.”

“As much as it pains me to say this, I do too.”

Chrissy giggles and sits back. I can hear her continue to giggle until Pastor Jeffery gets to the pulpit and asks Jenny to lead the singing.

I go to stand, and Uriah puts a hand on my shoulder and shakes his head. When I give him a look, he sits back down. “You don’t need to stand,” he whispers.

“I feel weird sitting.”

“No one cares.”

“Only because they like you.”

He smiles. “They like you too. They just don’t know it yet.”

“Uriah, I know you want that, but it may never happen.”

“You wait.”

Afterwards, we hush because people are watching us.

Once the singing part is over, Pastor Jeffrey gets up to the pulpit again. He preaches on forgiveness. I don’t know if he’s talking directly to me, but I know Papa is. I’m struggling with that. I haven’t told anyone, but when your daddy comes to the house determined to snuff you, it can rip all the forgiveness right out of you.

Pastor Jeffrey talks about how if we don’t forgive then Papa can’t forgive us. All in all, it’s not much I haven’t heard before, but I feel like Papa wants me to hear it again. I think to myself, Papa, I hear you, and I will. I just need a little time. My heart feels a little tug and in my head, I hear, “Don’t hold onto your anger. It’ll turn to bitterness and eat you from the inside out.”

I tell Papa, “I know. I’m working on it. I promise.”

When Pastor Jeffrey is done he prays and dismisses us.

Mrs. Pendleton asks Uriah to help one of the older ladies out to her car. She got in okay, but now that she’s sat still for so long on these hard pews she’s having trouble getting around. Both of them help her while I stay inside.

When they’re out of sight, Bo comes up to me. It feels a little awkward being around him. I’m not sure how much time will have to pass before that feeling will go away.

“Hi, Bo.”

“Hey. You’re looking way better.”

“Well, the way I see it, the only way I had to go was up.”

Bo chuckles. “Already making jokes.”

“I think if I stop I’ll cry.” It sounds like a joke, but it’s not far from the truth.

“You’re about to be free from this little town. You ready?”

I shuffle my feet and look at the ground. “Oh, I doubt I’ll ever be free from here.”

“Well, you’ll at least be allowed out of the town. Maybe you won’t be stuck eating tacos or fish.”

I hold my ribs as I laugh. “The tacos aren’t so bad as long as they're fresh. It’s the next day when they bite ya.”

“You’re ribs still hurting, huh?”

“Yeah, doctor said they take a while to heal. He wasn’t kidding.”

“When you get your cast off?”

“Oh, the normal six weeks. I may have a concussion by the time I’m done wearing the thing, though. I keep conking myself in the head.”

Bo’s shoulders bounce up and down as he laughs. When he stops laughing, I feel the mood shift. Things are about to be serious. “Lilly, I’m sorry. I should have never done what I did. It was wrong as wrong could be. I know I can’t take it back or change it, but I hope one day we can be friends again. Just friends.”

As we’re talking, Becky Martin walks up and smiles at me. “Hey, your momma said come get you. We’ve got the choir loaded up and ready to go.”

Bo looks at me. “The church is taking the choir to lunch over in the next town. Kind of a special treat. Daddy and Mr. Paul had a wager about the last Rangers game and daddy lost.”

“Okay, well you all have fun. I’ll stay here.”

When Bo and Becky walk off, I watch them. Sure enough, they hold hands just before they get out the door. I knew he didn’t love me. It was just a matter of him knowing it too.

It’s the middle of July and in Texas, which means it’s H O T, hot. Uriah comes walking up to me and he looks like he’s about to melt. “What are you smiling about?” Uriah asks, out of breath.

“Oh, nothing.”

“You gonna start keeping secrets from me.”

“I don’t think it’s a secret.”

“Then what?”

“Bo’s going with Becky Martin.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, I knew that. It started about two weeks ago. She always liked him.”

“I know.”

Uriah smiles. “You and him friends again?”

“No, but I think after a while we might be. You look hot.”

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of Uriah’s face. “I am hot. You ready to go? Momma’s waiting in the truck.”

Chrissy’s husband, Phillip, is closing the church up today and I see him with his hand on the small of her back. She sees me and smiles as Uriah and I are walking out the church. Misty Morning is standing there with her and for once, she doesn’t give me the stink eye. I doubt we’ll ever be friends, but maybe, just maybe, she won’t hate me as much anymore. I guess church is full of surprises after all.

I wake up in the middle of the night,
drenched in sweat, and panting like I’ve been running for my life. My mouth is dry so I go to the kitchen and get something to drink. I’m wide awake, and instead of heading back to the bedroom, I go outside and sit on the porch.

It’s not as dark on Uriah’s porch as it is on mine, and there’s not near as much animal life. Of course, there’s frogs and crickets everywhere you go so they're making noise. The moon is shining bright, casting shadows here and there.

The rocking chair is so much louder at night than it is in the daylight. I’m sitting, drinking my glass of water, and watching the world when I feel Papa sit down next to me. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to Him. That’s when I realize I’m mad at Him.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I want to talk to you.”

“What if I don’t want to listen?”

“I know you, you do.”

“No, I don’t,” I say in a huff. “I don’t want to talk to you and I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

“That’s not true.”

“Why you gotta be so…you?”

“Lilly, I know you’re hurt.”

“Yeah, and you let me get hurt.”

At first, after daddy beat me, I didn’t think I was mad, but my emotions and feelings have been all over the place in the time after. I feel like Papa allowed all this bad stuff to happen to me and if He loved me He would have protected me. If He loved me He wouldn’t keep letting all this bad stuff happen to me.

“I didn’t let you get hurt. This world is broken and there are broken people in it.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve protected me. Done something.”

“Lilly, there’s what you’re feeling and then there is truth. What is the truth?”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Papa. I want to be angry. I deserve to be angry. I deserve to hate and let it make me bitter and I deserve justice. I deserve revenge.” I cover my eyes with my hand and stop rocking. I hurt so profoundly I can’t find words to describe the level of anguish I feel. My whole body is shaking from the anger that is consuming me.

“Well, you can be angry, but what will it help?”

My words are lodged in my throat and I grip the arms of the rocking chair tighter.

Papa’s Spirit is swirling around me and I can feel the warmth of it. “Lilly, those people sinned against me. I’m the one that delievers the vegence and the justice because when I deliver it, it will be pure and just.”

“Papa, please,” I cry. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why do you want to keep all this hurt? What will it help?”

“Because I think I should get to wave my anger like a banner so the world can see all the bad things that have happened to me. So they can see I’ve survived and I’m happy despite all the bad stuff that’s happened to me.”

“But are you happy?”

“No.”

“Then what point is hanging on to all that anger and bitterness if it’s really not getting you what want you want?”

“It’s not fair, Papa. It’s not fair that I’m afraid and hurt. It’s not fair that daddy gets to hurt me and I have to suffer. I want him to suffer like I am. I want him to hurt like I am. I want him to pay for all the years of hating me and hurting me and I want…revenge.”

“Lilly?” Mrs. Pendleton calls from the door.

I wipe my eyes and try to control my voice. “Yes, ma’am.”

The door creaks open, and then the thin, flimsy screen door shuts. She stands behind me. “You okay, sugar?”

I start to open my mouth to say something, but the words are drowned out with a sob.

“Oh, sugar, come here.” She pulls me out of the rocker and hugs me tight, trying to soothe me. “Oh, sugar, I know you must hurt something fierce. I know you must wonder why no one has ever protected you, but I’m here. I’m here now.”

My sobs turn into an aching weep as my knees give out and I pull her down onto the floor of the porch with me. Mrs. Pendleton sits, rocking me, smoothing my hair and speaking softly. I don’t know how long we sit like that, but by the time I’m finished crying my bones are sore. Sitting on the hard wood floor of the porch is not smart when you’re still bruised.

“I heard what you said, Lilly.”

“You think less of me?”

“Oh, no, sugar. Everyone feels like that from time to time. You just can’t hold on to it and let that stuff fester. It’ll just make you miserable.”

“I guess.”

“Sugar, Papa loves you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“You’re not?”

“I don’t know what I am,” I say.

Mrs. Pendleton cups my face with gentle hands and looks me in the eyes. “You are loved, sugar. You are loved with a depth you can’t possibly fathom. I know you think your life should have been easier, but it wasn’t. Not many people walk this earth who could go through what you’ve been through and have the gentle spirit you do. Even when you try to hide behind your hurt and pain, people see through it. They see the person you are. I know Uriah does.”

“How can Papa love me and still put me through all this, though?”

“I don’t have an answer. I’m not sure you will ever have an answer, but what I do know is that Papa does love you. Sometimes, we don’t know His ways, but He knows us and we know Him and that’s what matters.”

I take a slow, deep breath. “I wish I could understand.”

“Well, maybe, instead of understanding the situation, you just understand Papa. Understand He’s been there and watched over you. He loves you and His hands are all over your life. I can see it.”

“Doesn’t seem fair, though.”

“No, it doesn’t. I can agree with you there.”

“I don’t want to stay mad at Papa. I know He’s not the cause of all my woes, but it’s hard when I know He’s big and strong and I feel like He could have saved me from all of this.”

Mrs. Pendleton nods. “I understand that, but we don’t know what’s down the street. What we think is bad is just Papa getting us ready for something we can’t see. All those hurts, all those pains, all those worries, and fears, are just lessons for things we can’t see yet.”

“What could it be?”

She smiles wide. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling it’s something truly amazing.” She stands, helps me up, and pulls me into a hug. “Papa has big, big plans for you.”

“I just wish I understood.”

“I know. I wish I did too. I don’t have all the answers for you. I don’t know what Papa has planned or what the future will hold. And, I know that doesn’t give you the answers you want, but sometimes all we have to hang our hope on is that Papa loves us.

I nod. I don’t understand either. “I know Papa loves me. I really do, but I wish sometimes I understood better.”

“I know, sugar, I know. For now, we’ll just hold on to the promise that He love us and cling to His promise to work all things to our good.”

Mrs. Pendlton’s talk has helped me, but I can’t say that I’m all that settled in my spirit about everything that’s happened. I think part of what Papa wants from us is faith, and faith is a little harder than it sounds sometimes. The only thing I’ve got right now that’s solid is that He loves me. For now, I’ll hold tight to that.