Heart of Valor

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Heart of Valor Page 4

by Adriana Peck


  “I guess we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” I reply.

  Nora and Nigel laugh as I get back to work, and I can already feel myself counting down the minutes until Friday night.

  Maybe Jake’ll be there. Maybe he’ll want to say hi. I certainly couldn’t stop him from doing that.

  I guess we’ll just have to see about all that, won’t we?

  Six

  Jake

  When the week finally reaches its natural conclusion, Friday rearing its head, I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret pulling at my heartstrings. I already spent a fat chunk of Chance’s money on a crate of six-packs. Let’s be honest, most of that money wasn’t going to make it until Friday anyways. I’d say it was his fault for trusting me with the cash, but I wouldn’t want to point fingers at the man who hands his brother a fat stack of bills with no questions asked.

  Whatever. Not like he’s going to find out anyways.

  Maybe tonight I can turn this week around. Start to make things right.

  When Friday evening finally arrives, I kiss Mom and Dad on the heads as I leave them on the couch with their stories. I feel the wad of cash in my pocket from Chance, now smaller than it was before but still substantially larger than any paycheck I’d expect to get. Especially after my fat Army check was already handed over to me and cashed out. I’ve still got some funds stashed away in my truck, but it’s good to have a backup just in case.

  Still, that charity fundraiser sounds like a nice place to spend the rest of this cash. Like Chance said, the whole town’ll notice me doing this good. If I plan on sticking around, I better have a safety net in case the rumor mill decides to kick back into gear.

  I step outside, the screen door slamming shut behind me as I pull my keys out of my pocket and hop into my truck. I key the ignition, staring up the old engine as I back out of my parent’s driveway and head onto the old gravel road.

  I know it’s been a while since I left town, but that doesn’t mean everybody here’s forgotten about me and my crummy legacy.

  Getting into fights, starting shit. Yeah, that used to be fun back in the day. I won’t lie, I felt a rush every time that slob Principal Garry took me into his office and chewed me out, suspending me for fighting. It was like watching an incompetent system stutter, doing everything in its power to correct something it deemed wrong. But it never worked. Or, I guess, it didn’t work back then.

  But jail worked.

  I got into one lousy fight with this prick nerd from the chess club. He wore his class ring like some cheap-shot, took a nasty swipe at my chin, gave me this wicked scar. I beat the shit out of him in return and his equally nerdy parents pressed charges against me for assault and battery. I went to jail my senior year of high school, spent my days breaking up rocks in a yard instead of locked up in a classroom.

  But I did my time. I apologized to the nerds in court. I hunkered down, I took my shame as it was given to me. And that’s all there is to that.

  Jail worked.

  I made a mistake. And I paid for that mistake. But some people don’t want to let that first part go.

  As I drive along the long dirt path back to town, I can’t help but feel like I’m auditioning for something. Auditioning for a life I never got to have. Auditioning for a community of people that wouldn’t want anything more than to judge and ridicule me behind my back.

  But maybe tonight’ll be different.

  Maybe I’ve got another shot at life tonight. A chance to turn things around, just like my brother said.

  The truck careens down the road as the dirt path turns back into that loosely graveled highway, breaking up rocks and kicking up dust in its path.

  ◆◆◆

  Nigel Knoxley’s cardboard box factory is a hunkering mass of brick and smokestacks, usually an ugly eyesore to anybody unfortunate enough to drive by; God forbid you should ever end up working there. Almost every man in town does so—Dad worked there for years, Chance had a part-time job there one summer before med school.

  Tonight, the box factory’s more lively than a New York Nightclub. Cars fill the parking lot, spilling out into the grass field beside the factory. I pull my truck around the mass of cars, parking close to the tree-line as I give myself plenty of space from the pile of motor vehicles. I get out of my car, slam the door behind me as I start the walk over to the factory. I thumb the cash in my pocket again, telling myself not to spend it all tonight in one place.

  As I walk past the mass of cars, I hear a familiar voice cry out.

  “Jake? Jake Reeves?”

  I wheel around, grinning from ear to ear. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  It’s Darius Blighter, my best friend from high school. The guy who was always there for me, backing me up when a fight got too hairy. He’s still in shape, surprisingly, even after his days of being a quarterback are now long behind him. I rush over to my massive friend who embraces me, slapping my back for emphasis.

  “Darry, how the fuck are you?” I step back, surprised as all hell. I never thought Darius would’ve stuck around either, but I guess life throws you curveballs like that sometimes. “I thought you would’ve been in the NFL by now. They picked you yet?”

  Darius shrugs. “Think I’m done with those sports,” he says. “Running my gym’s enough to keep me busy now. But enough about me, how the hell are you? I heard you went into the military, what, the Navy?”

  “Marines.”

  Darius’s eyes widen. “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  He slaps me on the back again. “Well, good to have you back. We’ll get together sometime, yeah?”

  I nod. “Definitely.”

  We start walking to the factory together, I can hear rock music coming from inside. People come and go through the front door, and I can catch a glimpse at just how crowded it is in there.

  The whole town really did come out for this thing. Chance wasn’t kidding about that part. There are booths as far as the eye can see, the mini-carnival lighting up the entire factory floor as Darius and I stare blankly inside. We’re still standing by the front door, careful to take that first step into the new world.

  “Crazy to think you went to jail all those years ago,” Darius says innocuously. “I pretty much forgot about it. And I think the town did, too. You can have a fresh start now.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that, Darry.”

  “Sure, I get it. Others might not, though. Just a fair warning, right?”

  I look over at my friend, shoot him a look that tells him to watch it.

  “What? I’m just saying,” Darius says, holding his hands up defensively.

  “Drop it. I didn’t come back for the rumor mill.”

  “People are going to talk, Jake. That’s how things are here.”

  We reach the front door, and I hold it open for Darius.

  “I’ll see you inside, bud,” I say, forcing a smile. “Have a good time. Really.”

  “Yeah, nice seeing you. You too, Jake,” Darius says back to me. He steps inside, and I let him pass as I let the door close in front of me. I stay outside, standing on the front steps of the factory as I gaze up at the night sky.

  The stars are staring to come out, unobscured by the lack of light pollution here in Twin Orchards. I couldn’t be more grateful for the view, but I’m certainly reeling after that talk with Darius.

  Even my best fucking friend from back then couldn’t let the past lie.

  I take a deep breath. I’m not that eager to see everyone else, honestly. I left town before word caught on about my incarceration, I never had to face anyone before I left to join the Marines.

  So far, everyone’s judged me. Everybody’s had something to say to me, everybody’s had to acknowledge my past wrongdoings for themselves. My brother, my best friend from high school. Practically everyone I speak to’s got something to say about my mistakes.

  Everyone, except for Nancy Callahan.

  She didn’t give me shit. She
didn’t try to re-ignite any rumors.

  Maybe she’ll be here tonight.

  Maybe I’ll see her. Run into her.

  If she’s smart, I know she’ll probably just stay away from me. I’m sure everyone around her’s already told her I’m surely bad news.

  But a part of me hopes they haven’t.

  I turn back around, grabbing the door’s handle with one hand as I take another deep breath.

  Here goes nothing.

  I open the door and step inside, joining the entire town at the carnival inside the repurposed factory.

  Seven

  Nancy

  After closing up the café early with Nora, I hop in my little sedan and get ready for the night ahead of me. We’ve still got an hour or so until the charity fundraiser starts, and Nora’s briefed me on everything that Nigel’s men still have to set up. There’s going to be endless booths of food and concessions, that’s where I’ll be working tonight. There’s going to be carnival games with prizes, live music, drinks, games, you name it. There’s even going to be an old-fashioned auction where you can win a date with a local girl. I’m glad I didn’t sign up for that one, I’d be mortified if the wrong person bet on me, and I’m far too creeped out to even want to participate in something like that. Hopefully Jake feels that way too, I don’t know how disgusted I’d be if I saw him bidding on someone else.

  I start my car, ready for the drive home. I don’t have long to get changed, and Nora’s going to be expecting me at the factory in less than half an hour to get my booth ready for the evening.

  Part of me wonders if Jake’s going to be there tonight. For all I know, he skipped town after leaving Nora’s Café. I’d have no way of knowing if he’s going to show or not. I guess all I can do is wonder. And maybe hope. Even if it’s just a little bit, even if I keep it a total secret from everyone else.

  I pull out into the road, the night still optimistically ahead of me.

  ◆◆◆

  Nora’s got my booth set up in the far corner of the factory floor, next to the other family-friendly concession stands. One guy in an old-fashioned server’s getup stirs cotton candy in a machine. Another man in a pinstripe suit hands out milkshakes. I can see the endless tents set up on the factory floor, and the town starts flocking in as soon as some of the booths are up and running.

  “Tonight, you’ll be helping our customers out with snacks and the like,” Nora explains to me, dressed to the nines in an elegant sequined cocktail dress. I look like a slob in my sweater pulled over my work uniform, but Nora told me I looked quite alright when I arrived. “Just give them the food they want. Prices are easy, on the board: a quarter for chips and soda, candy bars for a dollar. Nothing too bad, right?” My boss beams at me, and I return the gesture with an honest smile.

  “Nothing too bad,” I reply.

  “Have some fun tonight,” Nora says. “Just don’t wander too far from the booth, okay?”

  I nod. “You got it, Nora.”

  I watch as my boss sashays away, greeting people as they pass her. Nora and Nigel seem to know everybody in town, everybody always seems to owe them a favor in one way or another. Just like getting me here tonight, I’m sure Nora and Nigel found pressure points for all of their collective employees to get them to volunteer at all these booths tonight.

  As the night begins and the townspeople begin pouring in through the massive double-doors up front, I can’t help but keep my eye out for Jake. I don’t know if he’ll show tonight, I doubt he would. Charity events don’t seem like a vested interest of his.

  But a girl can hope, right?

  Customers begin approaching me right and left, and I’m finding tonight to be way easier than my usual work at the café. When customers try and complain about prices—however low they are—I can always retaliate with an ‘it’s for a good cause, sir or madam,’ and that tends to shut them up. I go through rows and rows of sodas and candies, nearly emptying my stock by the time an hour’s flown by. I’m impressed, but the jar of cash I’ve been using as a change jar is nearly filled up, stocked to the brim with donation money for the town.

  As the temporary fairgrounds continue to fill up, I see Nora sashaying around ahead of me. I wave a hand desperately, trying to flag her down. Her raven eyes light up as she spots me, and she excuses herself as she waltzes over to my booth.

  “Everything alright, Nancy? Customers giving you a hard time?”

  I shake my head. “The opposite, actually. We’re nearly sold out of everything.”

  Nora laughs. “I thought as much. I don’t have anything to refill you with. Tell you what: I’m still paying you for tonight. When your booth’s run dry, enjoy yourself. Walk around, say hi to people. Or head home, take the rest of the night off. You’d deserve it either way.”

  I beam, nodding eagerly at the mention of sweet, sweet freedom. “I can do that. Thanks, Nora.”

  She returns the smile. “And do tell my husband if you see him to come get me. I’ve got something I’d like to give him later, if you catch my drift.”

  Jesus Christ. I stifle a gag, keep my mouth shut. I nod, and Nora smiles one more time at me.

  “You’re a good girl, Nancy. I’m glad we’ve trapped you here in Twin Orchards. The rest of the world doesn’t deserve your heart.”

  And with that, Nora excuses herself, prancing back into the crowd as her sequined dress shimmers in the factory floor lighting.

  The night continues on as a few more hours pass me by. The customers start thinning out, and I’m finding it nearly impossible to clear the rest of my stock out. I see a few familiar faces as the night drags on, waving hello to Paul the mechanic as he passes by my booth. I see Barry in the crowd, too, and I wave hello at my friend from high school as he returns the gesture.

  Tonight’s turning out to be a real hoot after all. I guess Nora was right.

  The front doors open, and then I see him walking in.

  Jake.

  He’s here.

  My heart starts to race as my palms begin to sweat. I’m clammed up, frozen solid in place. I do my best not to stare at Jake as I see him taking in the sights around him. He strolls between the length of booths and stands, checking out the foods and prizes around him. I watch as he pulls out a wad of cash, buys himself a soda from another booth which I could’ve easily sold him.

  I blink, stunned, pretending I wasn’t totally just staring at a boy.

  “You gonna help me or not? Hellooo?”

  A man’s standing in front of the booth, arms crossed. He’s dressed in a suit, a peacoat hung over his shoulders like royalty. He looks angry, and I flinch as I snap back to reality.

  “Sorry, what can I get you?”

  The man slaps a dollar bill down on my booth angrily. “Soda and chips.”

  I hand him the snack along with his change. “Thanks so much.”

  The man scoffs, wheels around and disappears into the crowd. The next few customers act the same; curt, entitled adults that seem to have forgotten they’re in the midst of a charity event really grind my gears. I recognize a few of them as regulars from the café, and I fully intend on giving some of these people decaf on their next visit when they ask for regular coffee. Even if it’s petty, I need my revenge.

  I look around the factory fairgrounds again once I’ve taken care of the bratty customers in front of me. My eyes dart around the room, looking around for any sign of Jake. I look past booths, customers, the Knoxleys wandering about in their elegant clothing. No sign of Jake. I hope he’s still here, I hope I haven’t missed him leaving—

  “Nancy?”

  I whip around, and there he is. Standing right in front of me.

  Jake. He’s fiddling with something in the front pocket of his leather jacket. He’s grinning, and I can tell he’s been standing here for a while. I hope I don’t look too stupid right now, but I’m at least glad I didn’t miss him.

  “Hey,” he grins.

  “Hey,” I say, my words coming out a little more ea
ger than I’d like them to sound.

  He pulls a stack of bills from his leather jacket’s front pocket, takes a handful of twenties out.

  “My brother gave me this cash for tonight, said it’d help the town out. What have you got going on here?”

  I smile, looking down at my cart. “Well, I’ve got snacks. Chips, soda, candy bars. I’m about to run out of all my stuff, though.”

  “What happens when you run out of your stuff? Nigel Knoxley comes over and yells at you?”

  I giggle. “No, not exactly. When I’m all sold out, I’m free to leave. Rest of the night’ll be mine.”

  “How much stuff do you have left to sell?” Jake asks, thumbing his roll of bills innocuously.

  Oh. Oh, no. I know where he’s going with this. “Jake, I couldn’t ask you to—”

  He slaps two twenty dollar bills down on my cart, grinning up at me devilishly as he does so. His brown eyes sparkle in the light of the repurposed factory floor, and when our eyes lock everything goes quiet for a split second. The live music fades away, the sounds of the charity auction drowned out by the power of Jake’s stare. It’s just the two of us, frozen here in time as the world slinks away for just a moment.

  “That enough to free you for the rest of the night?”

  I’m helpless. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

  And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working.

  I pause, collecting myself as I flash Jake a smile. He returns the gesture, and I look down at my cart as I feel my face redden. I check the shelves underneath the cart, and I find that there’s only a couple bags of chips left with a few sodas. A lone chocolate bar sits adjacent on the other shelf. I peer back up at Jake.

  “Looks like you overbid. By about thirty-nine dollars,” I chuckle.

  Jake doesn’t laugh. He looks serious, and I feel my face flushing red-hot as he stares me down. “Put that money in your jar, grab those snacks. Let’s grab some fresh air.”

  I don’t hesitate for a single second.

  I nod, taking the forty dollars and stuffing them in the collections jar as I gather up the rest of the snacks. I put them all in a small cardboard box and close the snack cart door shut when it’s empty, just as Nora instructed.

 

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