Emerge (3 page)

As the vacuum made its passes along the brown and gold shag carpet, I thought about him.  You know…one of those cheesy day dreams where the guy sweeps in and breaks the vacuum in half over his knee and takes me away to a tropical beach where he professes his carnal and undying love for me.  Oh man…I’m a moron.  He was probably smiling at me because I had a booger hanging out of my nose or he’d never seen someone who was such a dork.  He’s probably sitting around his rebel hangout
, leaning coolly against a motorcycle
with his friends not even giving me a second thought.  Who am I kidding?  He never gave me a first thought. 

Then I
hear a snapping. 
What the heck
is with the snapping while I’m daydreaming?
  Oh, it’s the boss.  Apparently there’s a dusting emergency that needs my attention…stifled ey
e-roll.  My boss is Mr. Cannon.  He looks like a banjo playing,
Skoal
spitting, moonshine maker from Kentucky.  He wears flannel all the time and calls me Little Lady.

“Well, Little Lady, it’s payday, did you forget?” 

Seriously, like I could forget. 

“No Sir, I didn’t.  Do you have mine?”

“Of course I do…
whatdyathink
?  Here it is.” 

He ran his words together notoriously. He did that thing where you take something back when they grab for it…
Soooooooo
funny.  I acted very cool and casual putting it into my back pocket and resuming my job.  As soon as the door hit my butt two hours later, I would be ripping it open like it was a Publisher’s Clearing House check.  I didn’t make much, but when you don’t have anything, a little is a lot and I made it stretch.

On my way home from work I was
really excited.  Somehow I managed to get a raise and it bumped my check up 5 bucks.  5 bucks is 5 bucks. 
It had gotten dark and a little cold and my thin black swe
ater with the hole in the elbow
is not doing th
e job.  Good thing it’s only a 12
block walk. 
Yeah…

I walk
ed
home and let myself in…The car is still not there.  Where did they go?  I shrugged it off as
there was nothing I could do about it. W
e didn’t have cell phones.  You had to h
ave credit
and money
for that and there was
no way I could get in touch with them.  So I went about my business…homework and laundry.  When I finished
,
the night had descended fully and the moon reminded me that they still weren’t home.  The phone had rung several times but the caller ID told me “Unknown”…That unknown lady was trouble
and she loved our phone number
.  She was a bill collector or the IRS or somebody that didn’t like us very much…I didn’t blame her.
Hell, I didn’t like us very much.
I got my book and sat on my bed by the window, curled up in my floral sheets which were pretty much worn to paper thin and waited…and waited…then fell asleep.

             
Six
a.m. was there before I knew it and I woke with a horrendous crick in my neck from sleeping with my head perched on the windowsill. 
I groaned at the pain and then quieted myself for fear of waking the beasts. 
Wait….did they get home?
I jerked my head around to look at the other twin bed in the corner.  I pulled the sheets back in vain as I searched for the little blonde beauty.  The b
ed was empty.  I tore down the
three
feet long hall and looked into my parents’ room.  It was empty too. 
They didn’t come home?  They didn’t call?  Are they ok? 

             
They had done this before.  Once they had taken off for 4 days without notice when I was 13.  It was before May was born and I didn’t know what to do.  I
called my real Dad
and he came to get me and when they got home
, 3 days later,
they called him and said there was an emergency and they couldn’t wait for me to get home from school before they
left. It was a load of crap
and everyone knew it, but he brought me back home anyway.  He didn’t want custody of me, mostly because he thought I had a good life
with my Mom
and I was too chicken to tell him otherwise.  The day I was returned I was
greeted with spit in my face coupled with
a slap to make sure I got the point. When I asked where they were, she clocked me in the jaw.  All of my clothes were taken except one pair of jeans and a raggedy shirt.  I was made fun of for weeks because I wore the same thing
to school
every day for a month straight. 

             
Not knowing what else to do…I went to school dutifully.  My classes were a haze as my brain conjured up all of the awful things that could be happening to May. 
I slothfully made my way into the desk in the corner of Drama.  The teacher was out that day and we were told to study independently for the period. I opened up my Physics book and stared at the book, pretending to study.  I was so knee deep in my worry that I didn’t even notice him until the period was almost over.  He was sitting three seats up and to the right of me and was lazily glancing over his shoulder, silently begging my gaze. He was wearing a white t-shirt and some dark jeans and the same Doc Martens.  My eyes locked with him and it was as if he could see through me.  His face reflected the worry I felt and I wondered why he looked like he cared.  Was he worried about me?  Did he see the worry in me and felt sorry for the poor dorky girl?  At the moment, I didn’t care which one it was.  I found solace in his stare until it was broken by the ‘not so subtle’ “
Aheeeemmmm
” from the substitute
teacher.  I saw a corner of those gorgeous lips turn upward in a
smirk and then they returned downward as he turned back around in his seat.

             
As I made my way back home after a sweet “Are you ok?” from the bus driver, I stopped frozen in my tracks as my eyes surveyed the damage.  The doors to the car were wide open and the sad white back
d
oor
to the house
was marred with a shattered window.  My Mom’s purse lay halfway out the doorway as if it were crawling out of the house to safety.  Its meager contents were lying in the aftermath. 
Oh God, what happened?  Please let it be ok. 
I picked up the purse and its belongings, shut the door
s
to th
e car and walked into the house and set her purse on the dryer.
 

             
The kitchen cabinets were all opened and cans and boxes littered the counters and the floor.  It was like an episode of “The Haunting” where the lady turns
from the kitchen
to put something in the refrigerator
and when she turns bac
k, all of her cabinets are open and she flips out
and screams and demands they move out immediately
.
  I stepped through and over the
mess
of more purse contents and cans and boxes
and came upon my answer
.  My Mom was sitting at the dining room table, holding a cup of
coffee like it was her life jacket
.  The right side of her face was swollen and blood trickled from the side of her mouth.  She pointed to a bag of frozen peas on the table, wrapped in a kitc
hen towel and sobbed as she whispered
“They melted.”  I dropped my bag and got her a half full bag of chopped mixed vegetables from the freezer and smacked it o
n the counter to break them from their frozen block shape
.  I wrapped them in the kitchen towel and said
,
“
Here.
  Where’s May?”  Her eyes bulged and she said
,
“
Shhhhh
!!!! He’s asleep.” 
He was passed out again after a drunken tirade.  I knew it.  I rushed quietly to our bedroom and she wasn’t in her bed.  I checked the next logical place, the closet.
Relief flooded my system.
She was there, curled up in my thrift store hooded sweat shirt asleep from fear or crying.  I left her there as I didn’t know for sure if the tyrant was down for the night or just a nap.  There was no telling. 
I shut the closet door and made my way back to the kitchen.

  I didn’t ask where they had been and I didn’t really care.  I would get the story from May the next time we were alone and from her it would be the truth.  That kid didn’t lie
,
even though we were constantly smothered with deceit.  I picked
up the cans and boxes like a ninja.  I was skilled at cleaning up the aftermath in silence.  I saw my Mom fumble in her “secret closet” through bottles until she found her pleasure.  Who knows what it was.  The doctors said she was
bipolar, but instead of taking
the medicine on schedule she waited until she was a wreck and nearly overdosed herself with wh
atever concoction she fancied. I shut the cabinets and the last one gave a cry of pain as it shut.  I stopped to listen,
seeing if the whiny cabinet woke him,
but didn’t hear anything.  By this time it was dark and I gathered a bla
nket, my pillow, a flashlight
and my book and made my way to the closet. I wasn’t even going to bother with homework or showering tonight for that matter. I was safe for tonight and so was May.  The last thing I thought about before going to sleep was that almost smirk from the boy who I wished was mine.

Chapter 3

             
If my Mom thought I was ugly on a normal day, she would have
called the ugly police on me this morning
.  The dark bags under my eyes were big enough to hold a small child.
I looked like
Voldemort
on a bad day.
I did what I could, got dressed, and made my way to school.  Before I left, I put May in my bed and tucked her in.  She would get in trouble if she was caught sleeping in the closet.  At least she was home safe and as twisted as it sounds I was grateful for the fight last night.  It meant I didn’t have to anticipate one for a good while.  I could breathe easy for a month at least, maybe 6 weeks if my Mom was extra submissive and daunting on him.  He would spend the day apologizing and fake blubbering how much he loved her.  I hate the blubbering. 
I was once again grateful for school.

             
I hadn’t eaten the day before and my stomach gave me a sharp reminder as I passed the heavenly smells of the bakery which was right next to school.  I stopped in and
scrounged change for a glazed donut
.
I downed
it
like a hyena and then quenched my thirst at a water fountain in the first hall I could get to.  I was still hungry, but oh
,
well.
I made my way to Homeroom
,
grateful for my routine.

             
Later, I was walking
through the Science Hall after
third
period Calculus and trying not to be tardy to Physics when I saw him.  It was the first time I had seen him out of Drama class and I did a double take as if I didn’t believe h
e existed outside of sixth period
.  He smiled that perfect smile at me and I gave him a stupefied tight lipped smile that I usually give freely to strang
ers and the lady at the library. 
It’s official, I’m a
dork
.  I was
contemplating giving myself a good smack against the concrete wall when I heard it.  “Carlos, wait up man!!”  Instinctively, I turned around, somehow knowing that it was him they were calling to.  He turned and greeted the other guy and they assumed their walking. 
Carlos…Holy crap, that’s his name.
 
It was just his name, but somehow it was a new, though small, something I knew about him.

             
Time never goes fast when you want it to.  And today was no exception.  Fourth and fifth periods seemed longer than my whole day.  I rushed out of fifth
period AP American History and walk-ran the distance down the stairs to Drama class.
My messenger bag was literally kicking my butt all the way down.
  Once I reached the second flight of stairs I slowed to a snail pace, trying to look calm and cool walking to class.  Yeah, when you have to pretend to be calm and cool walking to class you know you’re a grade ‘A’
turd
basket. I took a deep breath and entered the classroom sauntering along like I wasn’t
jonesing
to see him. 
Calm down Moron, you’re gonna have a panic attack.
You’re probably foaming at the mouth or something.
Even if you see him, all he sees is a pity case
or an ugly duckling
.

             
I walked in and took a seat in the back, not because I like to sit in the back, but it was the only seat that had an empty seat next to it.  “I
Wuz
Here” was carved into the top corner of the surface.  Had to be the work of a genius, right?  I scanned the class looking for him while pulling out my script for the play.  Moron clue #2, looking around a classroom for a boy while you pull papers out of your backpack at .23 mph.  I rolled my eyes at myself and steadied my breath.  The tardy bell rang and sadness crept in.  He wasn’t here today.
I resolved to
being
a bit sad.
Then the door opened and I swear I heard
“Howl”
by Florence +
The
Machine
playing around me.  He was there and he was eyeing the seat next to me.