Broken Wings (14 page)

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Authors: V. C. Andrews

Tags: #Sagas, #General, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: Broken Wings
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“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, I have your information on the application you filled out. You go see Tammy Carol and she’ll give you your assignment. Mind,” he said when I stood up and turned to go, “you break any of my rules, there’s no second chance. You’re out. Hear?”

I wanted to say I hear fine, but I just gave him a plastic smile and nodded.

He kept his stern face, and I left.

Tammy Carol was a woman in her late twenties who looked ten to fifteen years older. She was the sort of person who enjoyed even an iota of authority. She let me know that on the floor, she was God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost. She made me stand and observe other grocery packers for nearly half an hour before giving me a shopping center apron and assigning me to a cashier.

“You be sure to ask paper or plastic before you start,” she emphasized. “And you smile until your face hurts.”

I was tempted to say, “I guess yours never does, then,” but I nodded again and put on the apron.

All the while I kept one thought at the top of my mind: You’re doing this to be free. As soon as you can, you will be gone and this won’t even be a memory.

I wished I could treat the rest of my past life the same way and yet still have a future. Those who saw no tomorrow for themselves, I realized, would be forever stuck in their yesterdays.

That wasn’t going to happen to me.

 

 

 

11

 

 

The Best-Laid Plans

 

Whenever there was a lull in the supermarket, Tammy Carol was right behind me, assigning me to other duties, which included washing down the freezer areas, mopping floors, and stacking canned goods. Everything I was told to do, I was told as though it was as important as doing brain surgery. The cans had to be turned just so. The mop had to be moved from right to left in perfect squares. When I wiped down the glass cases, I had to use a circular motion, not making my circles too large or too small. I could feel her breathing over my shoulder, making sure I did it as she instructed, and from time to time, Mr. Ritter appeared to scrutinize my work.

It was constantly on the tip of my tongue to tell them where they could put this job, but I swallowed back the urge to scream and kept my plastic smile until it did exactly what Tammy Carol predicted it might: hurt.

Finally, it was quitting time. Mr. Ritter was there at the front door to watch me leave.

“You’ve passed muster this first day,” he said. “If you behave yourself accordingly, we’ll get along fine and you will work here for the remainder of the summer. If you’re really good, I might consider you for weekend work once you return to school,” he added as another incentive. He spoke down to me as if he was on a high throne and I was kneeling at his feet.

“Thank you,” I said.

I didn’t realize how tired I was until I was outside, walking to the bus stop. And then, as if my body wanted to take revenge on me for what I had put it through all day, I felt cramps beginning and realized I had forgotten the time of the month and I hadn’t brought any protection along with me, not even thinking about it when I passed the sanitary napkins and tampons on the store shelves earlier. I was in a small panic that grew more and more intense as the bus made stop after stop on its way to my station. By the time I arrived, I felt the beginning of staining and hurried out, practically running down the aisle.

I was surprised that Mother darling and Cory were home. I didn’t know that they weren’t starting this gig at their new and better place until later in the evening. They were now the principal act, and that meant they wouldn’t begin until about ten. When I came charging through the door, they both looked up in surprise.

“Well, at least she knows what come right home after work means now,” Cory quipped.

“How did you do?” Mother darling asked.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” I said, and hurried on. When I got in there, I saw my tampons were gone, removed from the area under the sink where I had placed them. I opened the door and screamed, “Mother, where are my tampons?”

“You don’t keep things like that in the bathroom,” Cory replied for her. “I don’t like looking at them.”

“They were under the sink.”

“Next to my stuff,” he shouted back.

“Where are they?”

“They’re in your room,” Mother darling said. “Calm down, Robin.”

She brought them to me. I took them from her and slammed the door. I could hear Cory’s laughter.

“He’s a sick person,” I yelled.

“Yeah, right. I’m not the one stealin‘ and sleepin’ around. I wouldn’t be so quick to call anyone else a sick person. Besides,” he said when I came out of the bathroom, “we just wanted to be sure you weren’t pregnant, right, Kay?” He grinned at me.

I looked at Mother darling.

“That’s all I’d need now,” she said.

He kept grinning at me.

“Maybe you’re not sick,” I said. “Maybe you’re just ignorant.”

Before he could reply, I went into the bedroom and closed the door. I hate it here, I told myself. I hate it!

“That’s a fine way for her to behave after I go and beg Al to give her this job. And you’re eatin‘ and sleepin’ in my home!” he shouted.

“Not for long,” I said in a loud whisper. “Not for long.”

After they had left, I called Keefer, but no one answered at the shop. There was an answering machine, so I left my name and told him I would be home. I didn’t think he was going to call. It was nearly midnight and he hadn’t. I fell asleep curled up on the sofa watching television on that small set of Cory’s. Every once in a while, something would interfere with the reception. It sounded like someone on a two-way radio. Finally, the phone rang and I jumped up.

“Can you talk?” he began.

“Yes. They’re at work,” I said.

“I was with my cousin Charlie. He called to tell me my father had gotten dead drunk and he dropped him off at the house. I told him I wished he had dropped him off a bridge, and then he decided to come downtown and meet me at the Giddup Saloon. We sat and talked for hours about my mother. He’s ten years older than me and remembers her as a young woman. He said she was quite a dancer. Imagine that,” Keefer said. “I don’t think I ever saw her dance.”

“Are you all right?”

“Me? Yeah. So, how was your first day on the job?”

“Hard,” I said. “They had me do everything but sweep the sidewalk outside, but I think that’s coming.”

“Don’t you work with a cashier?” he asked quickly.

“Oh, yes, most of the time. But if it gets slow and they have enough packers, they put me on stacking goods or cleaning.”

“When the cashiers are through with their shifts, they have to prove—check out—their registers, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I have an idea. I’ll talk about it when we see each other again, if we ever do,” he added.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m saving almost everything I make so we’ll have money to get out of here together.”

“You are? That’s great,” he said. “What time do you work tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow I’m twelve to eight.”

“Okay. I’ll stop by about eight.”

“Let’s meet outside,” I said. “The manager is Cory’s friend, and he might tell him he saw you.”

“I’ll be in a blue Chevy with a bashed-in right front.”

“Keefer, how do you know these cars are safe to drive?” I asked, laughing.

“They’re safe. Don’t worry. The funeral’s tomorrow morning,” he added. “That’s why he got dead drunk tonight.”

“Oh. I could be there maybe.”

“No. It’s not going to be long.”

“Don’t get into any fights with him, Keefer.”

“I won’t. Charlie will keep him away from me. It’ll be all right.”

“I’m anxious to see you,” I said.

“Same here. I’d better get some sleep. You too. Take care, Robin,” he said.

I wanted to say more, but he hung up. I really was so tired and achy with cramps that I looked forward to falling asleep. It didn’t take long. I was in such a deep sleep that I didn’t hear Mother darling and Cory come home from their show. It surprised me to wake up with sunshine spilling over my face. At first I thought they had not yet returned. I imagined they had gone partying to celebrate their continued success, but when I stepped out of the room, I saw Mother darling’s outfit on the sofa, her boots on the floor. I had slept until almost nine-thirty myself and I didn’t hear a peep coming from their bedroom.

Taking care to make as little noise as possible, I made some coffee and had a small bowl of cereal. Afterward, I took a quick shower, dried myself and then went to change my tampon. I was so lost in thought about Keefer and his mother’s funeral, I didn’t at first realize the bathroom door had been opened. I looked up and saw Cory standing there, gaping at me, and I screamed, this time so shrilly and loud, he actually winced and jumped back, closing the door quickly.

I dressed as fast as I could, the rage keeping me hot and frantic. Cory had retreated to his and Mother darling’s bedroom, but that didn’t matter to me now. As soon as I was dressed, I opened their door and shouted, “That was disgusting. You knew I was in there.”

Mother darling was still in bed, her eyes closed. She turned and her eyelids fluttered open. Cory was standing at his closet. He was in his underwear and choosing a pair of jeans to wear.

“Whaaa? What is it?” Mother darling asked.

“He did it again. He just burst in on me and after he saw I was in there, he didn’t close the door. He just stood there gaping at me,” I accused.

Cory smirked.

“That’s a lot of crap. You didn’t give me a chance to close the door. You just went hysterical.”

“Did you enjoy the view? Are you interested in women’s hygiene that much?”

Cory looked at Mother darling.

“Can you do something about her?”

“Robin,” she began, sitting up and letting the blanket fall to her waist. Her nudity never shocked me, but her nudity with a man in the room did. I turned away. “I’m sure it was just an accident,” she began.

“Right,” I said. “An accident. That’s exactly what he is, an accident. I bet his mother collected on collision insurance or something when he was born.”

“Very funny.”

“Robin.”

“Forget it,” I said. “I’m going to work.”

I slammed their door and rushed out of the apartment, my steps pounding the stairway and clicking over the walk. There wasn’t a bus for quite a while. I grew impatient and walked toward the next station. With the way my nerve endings were twanging and my stomach was churning, I couldn’t just sit and wait with the other people. It was a mistake because the bus arrived only five minutes later and passed me up on my way to the next stop. I ran, but I didn’t get there in time. Tired and disgusted, I flopped on the bench and waited again. This bus seemed to make more stops. By the time I arrived at the supermarket, I was just a minute or so late. Mr. Ritter jumped out at me the moment I entered.

He didn’t speak. He pointed to his watch.

“I missed the bus,” I began. “And the next one wasn’t as fast and…”

“You have to anticipate such things, young lady. The trick is to start earlier, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“My policy is if you’re a minute late, you are still docked for an hour. My advice to you is be here early tomorrow to be sure you’re not late. If you were a minute or so more, I’d fire you, so count your blessings.”

I mouthed a thank you and went in to get my apron. Everything made my cramps more intense this particular morning. People thought I was smiling, when I was really grimacing in agony. My bad luck continued. It turned out to be one of the busiest days of the week. I never stopped until my break for lunch.

Instead of joining the other employees, I went outside and found a bench upon which to sit and eat one of the ready-made sandwiches the store sold. It was to be subtracted from my salary, of course. I ended up feeding most of it to the birds.

When a lull came in the afternoon, Tammy Carol had me working at the frozen food freezer. She wanted everything taken out and rearranged neatly. It was hard because it was so cold my fingers became numb. If I paused too long, either she or Mr. Ritter was there to tell me I couldn’t leave the items out of the freezer too long. Get with it.

My last shift as a packer was the hardest. I was so tired and cranky, I dropped a bottle of cranberry juice, which shattered at my feet.

“That will come out of your salary,” Mr. Ritter told me instantly. “I want this cleaned up immediately. First, get our customer another bottle so she is not delayed another unnecessary second. Go!” he shouted.

I hurried, clinging to this bottle for dear life, and returned. Then I started to clean up the mess. I cut my finger on a piece of glass, which enraged him even more.

“Dropping blood everywhere now. Go in the back and use the first-aid kit. I should have my head examined. Cory owes me big time,” he eagerly announced.

Finally, eight o’clock came and I punched out.

“Remember,” Mr. Ritter said as I was leaving, “get here early tomorrow.”

I nodded and left. I was in such a daze that for a moment, I had forgotten Keefer was going to be there. He actually had to sound his horn. I turned and saw him waving from the battered vehicle. Never so glad to see him, I ran to the car and he got out to embrace me.

“Hey,” he said. “You look worse than me.”

“I had a terrible day,” I said, and rattled every moment off in minutes. Then I remembered what his day had to be like and asked him how it went.

“It was hard. My father was in a stupor, which was good. He actually looked like he didn’t know who I was. Charlie was great. I stayed after everyone left and had my last conversation with her,” he added, his eyes getting glassy. He took a deep breath.

I kissed his cheek and squeezed his arm gently. He shook his head.

“I can’t stay here,” he said. “I thought I could work it through, get another job for a while, but I just want to get away.”

“Me, too,” I said. “I’m miserable back at that apartment, and they really don’t want me around.” I told him what a creep Cory Lewis was and how I was devastated by my mother always taking his side no matter what.

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