Spilled Milk: Based on a true story (20 page)

“Hey.”

“Are you at the
fair?”

“Yea why?”

“Leave. Leave
now.”

“Mom…why,
what’s going on?”

“One of the
neighbors just called me. Dad’s walking around the fair, he’s by the arena.
Leave now.”

I hung up and
grabbed Judd by the arm. “We need to go.” The alarm in my voice didn’t give him
a chance to question me.

“All right.” He
grabbed my hand and pushed me through the crowd. We didn’t stop until we got to
his truck and he let me inside and locked the doors.

My heart was
thrashing against my chest. “I’m sorry Judd. I’m sorry.” I put my hand up to my
mouth and tears formed around my eyes. It seemed like I was always on the verge
of a breakdown.

“Hey no, no,
it’s okay. We can go to my house.” He grabbed the back of my jeans by the belt
and pulled me over to him. I put my head on his shoulder and let the motion of
his truck rock me to sleep as we drove into the countryside.

The nightmares
started almost immediately after Earl was gone. Several of them would wake me
from my sleep screaming, and with others I would wake up sobbing
uncontrollably. Sometimes I could remember them, other times I pushed them from
my mind and took a steaming shower at three in the morning to relax. The body
twitches were the worst. My arms and legs would fight to keep me awake to avoid
the nightmares. My limbs would spastically jolt before I would become so
exhausted sleep would find me.

Midge told me
she was sorry my Mom couldn’t understand the trauma I was revisiting every time
I stepped into the house. “She changed those sheets… and expect you to sleep
soundly like nothing happened?”

The chair I
chose most often was seated right next to Midge now, and I shook my head
confirming her statement.

 “I’m sorry
child. You found something that triggers you, and unfortunately you can’t help
with other people do. No ma’m. The only thing you can change is yo’self.”     

“The only way
I’d feel safe is if I wasn’t there. But I’m only sixteen. I mean I work, but I
don’t know what I would do, where I would go.”

“Do you have a
friend you can stay with? Family maybe?”

I shook my
head. I didn’t know anyone’s parents that would let me stay long term like
that. Gina would, but Paul and I weren’t even on speaking terms, never mind
attempting to become roommates.

Midge got up
from her leather chair and headed to a small bookcase adjacent to her desk. “I
want to give you some information. I know you like readin’ so you go ahead and
read it.” She placed a white packet in my hand. “It’s about emancipation. You
know what that is?”

Midge has
taught me so many things about myself and other people over the past year. I
didn’t know how I could ever repay her. She told me the day I walked into her
office and told her I had finally told a family member about the abuse was
payment enough. “I thought you was going to take that one to the grave, I did.”

“Emancipation
of a minor is when you become your own parent. Your mom won’t be responsible
for you no more, but you would need to prove you can support yourself, have a
place to stay and take care of things like your school.”

“All right, so
why don’t I just do that?”

“It’s a long
process sometimes. You have to file a petition with the family court, and your
mom might try’n fight it. The judge does whatever’s in the best interest of the
child. It’s not easy to get, sometimes when a child’s been abused it makes it
easier, but not always. Depends on your judge an’ what they think.”

“I can’t stay
there anymore, Midge. You know I walked into the bathroom the other day and saw
the toothpaste sitting on the counter…” My gaze trailed off somewhere behind
Midge as I remembered the panic attack that ensued. “I thought I was going to
die. My heart nearly came through my chest. Just from looking at a bottle of
toothpaste. Why?”

“Child, listen
to me.” Midge clasped her hands over mine. “This is a long road you’re headed
down. You did a mighty brave thing for you and your siblings. Mighty brave. But
now you need to focus on you. You gonna find out what triggers you, what upsets
you, and it’s gonna bring back memories. Sometimes good, but mostly bad. Ain’t
nothing you can do about that. What you can do, is figure out why it’s
happenin’ and make sure you have those coping skills to beat it. You hear me?
Now, don’t focus on the fact the toothpaste made you have the anxiety, think
deeper.
”
She pointed to my heart. “Why you think that made you upset as it did?”

The toothpaste
was always in the bathroom. It’s never changed. It was an upright white
canister that dispensed two different kinds of toothpaste. It never changed.

“It never
changed.” I looked up at Midge, smiling. “The toothpaste never changed. Earl
always bought the same kind. When I saw it, it made me think of him.”

Midge nodded
and winked at me. “There ya go, you found your trigger. Now you jus’ gotta work
on coping with it.”

I read over the
packet several times in the next few days. Ethan lay on my bed pulling at my
hair with a toy brush as I highlighted some important parts. He was two
already. The thought of leaving him was my biggest hurdle but Midge was right.
I had to start focusing on myself and my healing if I was ever going to be any
kind of functional adult.

The suitcase I
dragged from the basement smelled musty. Mom followed me up the stairs half
panicking and half in tears. “Brooke you can’t just leave. We changed that
whole room around for you, your Aunt spent a lot of money. What would she
think?”

“I’m sorry Mom,
it’s not enough.” If I was going to leave, I would have to do it fast and with
minimal talking to avoid conflict.

“You’re only
sixteen! Where are you going to live, huh?” She watched me put a pair of jeans
into the suitcase. “I’ll just call the police. I’ll tell them you ran away and
they’ll bring you back to me.”

The packet
Midge gave me was in Mom’s hands. I had anticipated a remark like that from her
so I regurgitated what I practiced in my head. “You can’t, Mom. I’m
emancipated. Since I was abused the court considers me emancipated, which means
I am my own dependant now. I have a job, and a car, and a place to go. I don’t
need your permission. Call Heather if you want, she’ll tell you.”

It was a risky
lie. The packet showed that emancipation procedures could take months or years
to decide upon. I didn’t have that kind of time.

The nightmares
were increasingly vivid and the tension between Mom and I walked a fine line
between uncomfortable and hostile. She felt I owed her something for taking the
bread winner out of the house, and I felt she had no right to blame me for the
financial mess she found herself in since I told. She could no longer afford
the house with her social security disability checks and she refused to
downgrade in a house.

She stared at
the white packet in her hands and shook it at me. “How could you do this to me?
You’re just going to leave, run away from your problems? How will that solve
anything? What about us?”

My mom and
siblings refused to go to the Women in Crisis center I told them about. Mom was
shocked to find I had been going there for over a year. I never told her Gina
brought me. The services were free, and the healing couldn’t just be on my end.
Everyone was going to be dealing with a lot of anguish. It was unfair for Mom
to ask me to support her and my siblings when I needed time to heal myself.

“I’m sorry,
Mom.” I reached over and kissed her cheek. “I need to do this for me.”

After long weeks
of sleepless nights, I decided that sleeping in my car would be more favorable
than having to live in a house I could only see myself being tortured in.

A local gym
hired me to work a few hours a week which gave me a place to spend time and
shower when I needed to. I had plenty of friends I could bounce around between
when the temperatures would dip too low for me to sleep in my car and since I
got free breakfast and lunch through school I only had to worry about dinner.
Most of the time I was working at the telemarketing job anyway and would get a
hoagie or stromboli from the pizza shop next door. I felt guilty and gave Mom
almost all of my paycheck each week, but I needed to save for my own place too.

My cavalier
coasted down the driveway and I pulled a pair of sunglasses on as I headed
towards Cristin’s house. She was thrilled I was going to sleep at her house for
a few school nights and assumed my new carefree schedule was Mom’s attempt to
win me over.

“My dad did
that when my parents divorced. I could ask him for anything and he felt so
guilty about not living at home I would always get what I wanted,” Cristin
said.

“Do you want
second’s dear?” My plate was smothered in chicken, penne pasta and spinach. I
nodded with a mouth full of food. “No thank you Mrs. Vanderport.”

“
Miss
Vanderport.
Miss, Miss.
Not a
Mrs.
anymore.” She twirled through
the kitchen in an ocean blue mini dress and popped out her hip. “What do you
think girls, think I could meet Mr. Right in this?”

“Ugh, Mom. Go
away.” Cristin waved her hand at her mom. “Where are you guys going anyway?”

“Not sure.” She
mumbled through the bobby pins sticking out of her mouth. “I’ll be home late
though, don’t wait up. Bed early, you girls have school tomorrow.”

Cristin’s phone
rang within minutes of her mom leaving. “Talk to me.” She cradled the phone
against her shoulder. “Mmm yep. Dustin’s picking us up, so we’ll be there
around ten. All right? Yep. Bye.”

“Who was that?”

“Party tonight.
You know the guy I’ve been seeing, pizza parlor guy?”

I shook my
head. “Sorry, can’t keep up.”

“Anyway, he’s
having some people over in the backroom of the pizza place after they close.
The managers gave him a key.”

“That a good
idea?”

“Oh yea, do it
all the time.” Cristin shoved a piece of biscuit into her mouth. “Let’s get
ready. Dustin will be here in an hour to get us.”

I only
recognized two people when we walked into the backroom of the pizza parlor.
About twenty or so faces turned in our direction when we pushed through the
double kitchen doors. Cristin threw her arms around a girl I didn’t know and
they disappeared into another back room. I made my way around the kitchen
making small talk with one person who looked vaguely familiar from my home economics
class.

Cristin disappeared
and reappeared all night, and I started to worry about where she went sometime after
one in the morning. Making my way towards the back door I was engulfed in a
plume of smoke.

The kitchen was
on fire and Cristin was nowhere in sight. A sea of people blocked my way and I
pushed through them, following the smoke. There was a bright Exit sign above a
back door and I flung it open to catch Cristin laughing away surrounded by a
group of people.

Embarrassed
that I had mistaken it for a fire, I inhaled and watched the joint get passed
around. When it got to Cristin she couldn’t even stand up enough to keep it
in-between her lips. She squealed when we saw me and pushed a much older guy
aside to give me a hug. Her breath reeked like alcohol.

“Cristin,
you’re drinking
and
lighting up?”

“Yaaaa man come
on, I’ll get you some.”

I held a hand
up as the joint was passed to me. “That’s okay. We need to get home.”

A dark haired
guy who was standing near Cristin earlier protested. “Ah come on, we just got
here. Need to chill a little, ya know?”

I ignored him
and led Cristin by the hand to find our ride home. Dustin was standing at one
of the kitchen counters with two other guys in track jackets. He downed a shot
of Jack Daniels as I tugged on his sleeve.

“Dustin, come
on we gotta go. Her mom’ll be home soon.”

Eyes half
closed he pointed at Cristin. “Heyyy you sloppy mess. You need’a go home?” He
wiped a dribble of Jack that missed his mouth. “Mmk. Lesss go.”

I squeezed
Cristin’s hand when we got outside and Dustin reached into his pocket for his
keys. “We can’t get in the car with him. He’s wasted, look at him.”

Cristin
strained her eyes. “Ohh nah, he’s okay. He does this allllll the time.” She
waved her hand above her head in the shape of a rainbow. “No problem.”

“I’m
not
getting in the car with him.” I stopped in front of her and crossed my arms.
Was she serious about letting this guy drive us home?

“Ah, come on
Brooke. He’s good. Look. He’s good.”

Dustin dropped
his keys on the pavement in front of him and cursed.

Cristin stared.
“All right, maybe ask him if you can drive.”

“Me drive? I
don’t even know this guy.” Dustin reached into his pockets to try to find the
keys that were already in his hands. I shook my head. “Hey, Dustin. Let me
drive okay?”

He squinted at
me and brushed the blond hair from his face. “Ah no, it’s cool. I got it.”

Talking to
either of them was getting me nowhere. I wasn’t about to play mind games for
the next two hours.

“Give me the
keys.” I held out my hand. “You’re
not
fine, you’re
not
driving.
I haven’t had anything to drink.” Cristin giggled beside me. “Or smoke. Don’t
be stupid.”

Dustin smirked
when I called him stupid and ruffled my hair. “All right little warrior, go for
it. Don’t wreck my car man, I love this car.”

Within two
miles Dustin was passed out cold in the backseat. “See Cristin?” I peered
through the mirror. “He’s out cold. What would have happened if he was driving?”

Cristin huffed
as she turned around. “Oh wowww. He never does that, I swear it. He’s like the
best drunk driver I know.”