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“I won’t. Don’t worry about it.” I leaned over to kiss him, and then I got out of the vehicle. He remained there looking after me as I walked away.
My heart wasn’t pounding anymore, but it was acting strangely—ticking like a time bomb. My whole body felt strange, in fact. I thought I had lost all my weight and would soon start to rise off the sidewalk and float with the wind like some balloon that was released.
Off I would go into the distance, growing smaller and smaller until I became a thin memory, easily forgotten.
By now I was sure Grandpa had forgotten me. Good riddance to that child of sin, he probably thought, and went about his work with a sense of relief. He no longer had to worry about the devil moving in and out of his home, threatening his precious pure soul.
And Mother darling… she would surely turn my running away into a song.
Off she went into the night, thinking there was nowhere she belonged,
My accidental daughter who came and went like a dream to be remembered only when dark clouds warned us of another storm.
My accidental daughter.
That’s not bad, I thought as I strolled slowly back to the apartment.
Maybe I’ll just write it down and leave it for her so she would have something from me she could use.
It was already something of far more value than anything I would take from her.
12
Strike Three
As I had predicted, I couldn’t sleep. First, I tried tiring myself further by watching television until nearly one in the morning. My eyes did close and open, close and open. I thought I had dulled my teeming brain enough and finally rose, turned off the set, and went to bed. For a few minutes, I actually did sleep, but then I woke with a twitch that nearly sent me flying off the bed. My eyes snapped open, and all the thoughts, plans, and words Keefer and I had exchanged came flooding back. My heart started to pound.
Hours later, I heard Mother darling and Cory return. They were both obviously drunk. They didn’t seem to care how loudly they talked. I heard their great excitement. Mother darling’s songs and the band had gone over exceedingly well, I gathered. I heard her keep saying, “Ten weeks! We have a guaranteed ten weeks there!”
“Next stop, the Grand Ole Opry,” Cory cried, and they clinked bottles of beer. Then they broke out in one of Mother darling’s songs:
“My heart is a prison and you ‘ve got the key,
But darlin’ there’s no prisoner I’d rather be.”
I couldn’t help lying there and envying Mother darling’s happiness. Everything I heard her say was about her and Cory and the band. There was no mention of me. It was truly as if I wasn’t there; I never existed. I buried my face in the pillow and tried to shut out their cries of joy. They were up celebrating for at least another hour or so before they finally collapsed in bed. Their laughter lingered in the silence. I fought harder to get some sleep, and some time just before the first glittering rays of morning, it came.
I woke up and groaned and turned over and fell asleep again, this time not waking until nearly eleven. Panic nearly froze me in bed. I leaped out and dressed as quickly as I could. It had been my intention to review all my possessions, despite what I had told Keefer, so I could decide if there was anything dear to me. Now, all I could do was throw some cold water on my face, run a brush through my hair, and hurry out to make the bus. If I was late today, Mr. Ritter would surely do what he threatened and fire me on the spot. That would mess up Keefer’s whole plan.
For a moment or two, I hesitated at Mother darling’s bedroom door. I was leaving without saying any sort of good-bye, any final words. We might not speak to each other for some time, I thought. How would she really react? Would she breathe a sigh of relief and go on happily with her developing music career? Would she spend a few hours worrying about me or regretting how I had been treated? I imagined Cory telling her not to waste any time thinking about me. I wasn’t worth it, not after all they had done for me. Like that was anything significant.
Neither she nor I had called Grandma and Grandpa to tell them we were fine. I knew she believed they thought good riddance when they thought of us, but I couldn’t believe that completely. Grandma surely worried, and despite his harsh, cold ways, Grandpa had to give us some thought. People, family people, surely just don’t dispose of each other like empty milk cartons or something, do they?
Maybe they do, I thought. I couldn’t be more confused when it came to all that. All that seemed concrete and sure to me at the moment was Keefer’s devotion, Keefer’s dreams and plans, because everything included me. I was made a big part of it. I was important to someone finally, someone who needed me about as much as I needed him. That’s a gift, I thought. That’s a stroke of luck that’s come my way, and I can’t just toss it aside. For what would I give it up, anyway? This?
I looked around the disheveled apartment with their clothes strewn about, the empty beer bottles on the table and floor, Mother darling’s boots staring at me. That’s it, I realized. I’ll take those. At least, I’d have something of hers. I scooped them up and left the apartment, closing the door softly behind me.
Stay asleep, Mother darling. You’re better off, I thought, and hurried down the stairs.
I was lucky with the bus and made it to the supermarket ten minutes early. Now came the hard part— working until the first cashier shift ended. I had to keep up that plastic smile, look calm and innocent. Despite that, I couldn’t help but gaze out the window, anticipating Keefer’s arrival. When I finally did see him pull up to the curb outside, I think my heart stopped and started. The blood drained from my face, and I fumbled with the groceries.
“You a
ll right?” the cashier, Betty Blue Nickols, asked. I had worked with her before and found her to be pleasant. She was an older woman, close to fifty, I thought. The regular customers knew her by name and obviously liked her. Many exchanged small talk with her as she worked, talking about their children or their other family members as if she really knew them. It brought a warmth to an otherwise very cold and impersonal world, I thought.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly.
My eyes went to the big clock on the left wall. In ten minutes, Betty Blue would be closing out her register. Keefer was sitting in the battered SUV, watching me through the window, waiting for my signal. Every minute that clicked off brought more blood to my face. My skin felt like it was on fire. Did I have a fever? The inside of my throat became dry as well. My hands trembled around the groceries I packed. At one point Mr. Ritter came around and looked hard at me, his eyebrows turning in like two annoyed caterpillars. I held my breath, and then he walked off to help a customer.
