by Willow Aster
The lump in my throat is growing, and I will it to go away. It doesn’t.
“We’re so glad you came, honey. I’ve wished I could come see about you, but have tried to let you get settled back in at home. We’ve been so worried. You look so much better. I know you must still be in a lot of pain.” Sadie dabs her eyes with a tissue and then hands me one as my eyes begin spilling over. “Oh honey.”
She holds me close, and I try to get a grip. “Is there anything we can do to help, Caroline?”
“You’ve done so much. It’s been a long couple of days. I saw Leroy’s brother, Tuck, today and passed out—woke up in an ambulance.”
Sadie keeps her arm around me.
“I’m fine now. I had a fight with my mother. I asked her to bring me to see you. I told her-” I look at Isaiah. “I told her about us.”
I look at Sadie then to see if she knows what we’re talking about. She doesn’t seem surprised.
“I mean…I know we’re not talking anymore or anything, but I still…well, you know…I still needed to see you.”
“Caroline…”
I can’t look at him. The anguish in his voice is so thick I know it will haunt me.
“I’m so sorry,” Isaiah says. His face is in his hands, and his voice sounds muffled. “This is all my fault.” He looks up at me then, and says urgently, “Caroline, please. I don’t know how you can, but please forgive me. You needed me and I wasn’t there for you. I could have kept this from happening if I’d been there for you. Please don’t leave. I’ll make it up to you. I will never let anything bad happen to you again. I…I promise you I won’t…”
We’re both crying. Sadie just keeps handing both of us tissues as we need it. The anger I felt toward him earlier has completely faded.
“This is not your fault, Isaiah. There’s nothing you could have done. You can’t watch over me twenty-four hours a day. I’m not your responsibility.”
“You are. You’re everything to me, Caroline. Everything.”
I look at Sadie again, a little embarrassed that she’s hearing us talk like this. She doesn’t seem bothered, so I relax a little. She smiles at me and pats my face.
“You’re mighty special to my boy, honey. I’m gonna leave the two of you alone for a few minutes. Say what you need to say. Your mama is probably gonna be here any minute.” She gets up and goes into the kitchen and begins washing the dishes.
I look over at Isaiah and he leans forward, his elbows on his knees. I’ve never loved anyone or anything as much as I love him. I try to memorize the way he looks at me. The way his lips tilt up when they see me. The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs at something I say. The way his eyes turn a darker shade of beautiful when he cries. I will love him until the day I die. I know this.
“I’m sorry I wouldn’t talk to you at first. It was just too…awful. And I was angry with you…so angry. I never thought you’d walk away…”
“I’ll never forgive myself for that, Caroline.” He comes over to where I’m sitting and sits on his knees, taking my hands in his.
“When you came to the hospital, I was so humiliated that you knew. I can’t believe it, really—I can’t believe that any of it happened. But it did and it’s not your fault…”
“It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. If anything, I love you more,” he whispers.
I feel my face go hot with those words. I lean my head down and touch my forehead to his.
“But Isaiah, you know—you said yourself it’ll never work. You were right. Look at all the trouble we’ve caused. There’s no way we can ever make it. They’ll kill us first.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll kill them first.”
“No. Isaiah, look at me. No. They’re not worth it. You can’t waste your life going to jail because of them. Please tell me you won’t do anything crazy.” I lift his chin up and force him to look me in the eyes. “Promise me.”
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.”
Fear clenches my heart. I’m afraid of what he’ll do. I know he means he’ll kill them if he has to. Mama’s right. I have to leave. He can’t worry about protecting me. The best thing would be for him to forget all about me and have a nice, safe life. He can’t do that if I stay here.
I look outside and it’s dark. My mom is sitting out front, and I’m sure she’s been out there for a long time. She’s too afraid someone will notice her, so she doesn’t honk or come to the door.
“I have to go, Isaiah.”
“No, Caroline, please. Stay with us—we’ll have supper. We can take you home. I’m afraid—I’m afraid if you go out that door, I’ll never see you again.”
I touch his face and lean over and kiss him, our salty tears mixing in with the kiss.
“I love you, Isaiah. I always will.”
“Caroline, you can’t go. I love you too. You belong here with me.”
“I wish I did, Isaiah. You know I do. You don’t belong to me, though. I wish you were mine, but you’re not and you never will be. There is nowhere we could go that would accept us. I want you to have a good life.”
“I will only have a good life if you’re in it.”
I stand up, knowing that I can’t convince him tonight. He’ll come to this conclusion when I’m gone. He’s known before that we couldn’t survive together; he’ll know it again.
“Sadie, I have to go now. My mom is here.”
Isaiah stands up and has his arm on my back. His face is panicked. I feel calmer than I have in weeks. I know what I have to do.
Sadie comes out of the kitchen and hugs me. “If you ever need us, honey, you just say the word. We will come wherever you are. Write us; call anytime. I hope you’ll stay in touch. And hopefully, when those boys are caught, you can come back.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
I hug Isaiah, hard and tight. I try to pull back and he doesn’t let go. I give in to the embrace for a moment longer and then pull away again. This time he lets me go.
“Caroline, I nearly forgot…stay right there one more minute.”
Isaiah goes in his room and comes back with a small box. He hands it to me and watches as I lift the lid. Inside is my “C” necklace.
“I thought this was gone for good,” I whisper.
“I found it that night…got a new chain for it. Want me to put it on you?”
“Yes. Thank you, Isaiah. So much.”
He lifts the necklace out and it takes him a minute to get the clasp closed. When he’s done, his fingers linger on the back of my neck.
He puts his arms around me and I close my eyes, savoring this one last moment. And then I move away before I’m unable to leave him at all.
“I can never thank you enough for saving my life. Words just sound silly when I try to tell you what you both mean to me…”
I turn to the door and look back at them one more time, my eyes settling on Isaiah. He looks back at me with defeat and despair.
This time I’m the one who walks out of the door and out of his life. Now I know how awful he felt.
NOT A WORD is spoken all the way home. I cringe when we pull down the road toward our house, but I made a deal. I’ll stay here one more night, and then I’ll never have to be here again. I feel nothing but hatred in my house, especially with my mother there. Everything and everyone in this house has let me down.
Miss Greener and George come over for a brief goodbye. Nellie and Grandpaw also come and stay for most of the evening. If anyone notices that my mother and I are not speaking, no one lets on. Nellie is weepy at the thought of us leaving, and I’m spent with all the emotion.
By the end of the night, I’m numb. I’ve cried more tears than I thought possible and cannot believe that I’m crying more as I lie in my bed, trying to sleep. The thought of not seeing my friends and grandparents on a regular basis is terrifying and heartbreaking. I’ve never even visited anywhere more than a hundred miles south. Good or bad, Tulma is mine, and I am inconsolable at the thought
of leaving.
Crying just makes my ribs feel worse. I take some medicine and fall asleep with a wet pillow and heavy heart. I jerk awake some time later, groggy but awake. It can’t be too late, maybe midnight. I know immediately that I’m not alone. I sit up in bed. There’s a breeze coming from my window. It wasn’t open before I went to bed. I always keep that window locked. As I reach for the lamp, my hands are yanked to each side of the bed.
I try to say something, but I can’t speak, my voice is frozen somewhere down deep in my throat. I cry; I struggle. My wrists are tied to the bed with a heavy rope. I begin kicking and my feet are strapped down. Stretched out like an X.
They’re here with me. Here in my room, not saying a word. Just getting ready to teach me another lesson. I begin to cry out just as my mouth is covered with a heavy cloth. It’s too dark to see anything, but I hear them. Their ragged breath. Breathing hard from strapping me down. I vomit, but it has nowhere to go but back down.
He leans in, his breath hot and smelly. With a soft snarl, he says, “You call your little friends off me, you hear me? I don’t want another visit from the Klan crazies, do you hear me? You should have died already, and now you’re causin’ me all this trouble. Listen, I will still hunt you down and kill you if I have to. I ain’t afraid of them. And I sho ain’t gonna let some little white bitch spread lies about me. I don't care how good you is at this. You got that? So change the little story you been tellin’. You want it as much as I do.”
I nod my head. Whatever you say. Leave me alone and I’ll do whatever you say.
I would know it’s Leroy even if he hadn’t spoken, by the weight of him. He’s on top of me now and all the thoughts I had of killing him seem futile now. I’m paralyzed with fear.
You good for nothing coward. What are you going to do? Play dead and let him do it again? What’s wrong with you?
I find my voice and begin yelling. It sounds muffled through the cloth, but I just yell louder. And louder. The realization hits me suddenly that my knees are free. I knee him in the groin, and it makes him mad. He punches me in the stomach with one hand and yanks my hair with the other. I butt my head into his, ramming it with a loud thwack. So much for getting over that concussion. It would be worth it to have another if I can hurt him.
A sound in the other room startles him.
“Caroline?” My mother is coming. Oh, thank God. Please come in, Mama. Please find me.
Leroy curses and rolls off of me. My eyes are adjusted to the dark now, and Les is by my window. He sounds scared. “Let’s go. Someone comin' down the road. Come on! We gotta get outta here!”
Leroy pauses, but hears my mother again. They raise my window and jump out. The room goes quiet. I’m going to be sick again. I moan as loud as I can through the cloth. Please, Mama, hear me.
She opens the door and a beam of light fills the room. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Caroline. What happened?” She pulls the rag off my mouth and I vomit on the bed. She unties the ropes on my hands and feet. I curl up in a ball.
“Are they still here, Caroline?” She looks out the window and runs to get the phone. I hear her saying, “I thought I heard something and when I went in her room, she was tied up, and her window was open. The latch was broken on the window. I don’t know. Yeah. It just happened. Okay. Please. Yes…”
She comes back in and I’m not sure what happened next. I remember her taking me to Nellie’s and putting me in the bath there. Someone held me all night, I don’t know if it was Grandpaw, Nellie, or my mother. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Grandpaw came in the room.
“It’s time, Caroline. Let’s get you in the car. I love you, sweet child. Everything’s gonna be all right. We’re gonna take care of it all.”
I’m groggy and every inch of me is sore. Grandpaw carries me to the car, he and Nellie kiss me goodbye, and we leave Tulma for good.
WHEN I WAKE up, I’m alone in the car, parked in front of a weathered apartment building. I rub my eyes, and my puffy lids burn long after I’ve stopped rubbing. I try to figure out where we are. I have no sense of how long we were driving. The sun is shining brightly into the passenger side window. I’m hot and sticky and my mouth feels like sandpaper. My throat is positive it hasn’t had a drink in years.
The windows are cracked but aren’t letting in much air. I roll down the window more and look around. A little blonde girl runs outside and is flying her doll in the air. She doesn’t notice me in the car. I watch her carefree play and envy her innocence. There are very few cars in the parking lot. Amsterdam Villas is written in curly letters on a large sign in front of the office. I open the door to see if I can cool off, and my mom walks out of the apartment closest to the office.
She closes the door behind her, and it barely shuts before it’s opened again. This time my dad comes out. I’m stunned to see him. Relief floods over me. I get out of the car and start to move toward him. He stumbles as he walks to me. I get a better look at him and pause. He looks awful. His face is haggard and his hair is dirty. Even in his worst benders, he has always looked better than this. I get closer to him and his eyes are so bloodshot, I barely see my daddy in there.
He almost reaches me and is holding out his arms when my mom grabs my arm and turns me around toward the car. She walks quickly. I stumble as I look back, and Daddy has stopped and looks like he’s going to fall over himself.
I swallow back tears and get back in the car. I’m torn about leaving. How can I possibly go when he’s like this? The guilt rises to my chest and threatens to choke me. My stomach clenches. I can’t do it right now. It’s too much to see him like this. We barely get down the road when I tell my mom to pull over and I’m sick in the grass.
My mom and I don’t talk as she drives. I see a few signs and surmise that we’re in Memphis. The streets are full of traffic at this time of day. I watch all the people and try to forget about Daddy. Everything around me looks bigger and better here. The girls are wearing dresses so short that Nellie would keel over with a heart attack. Their hair is huge and I just thought mine was frizzy. This gives frizz a whole new meaning. Both men and women have on pants that have so much extra material, I try to imagine what my pragmatic Nellie would have to say about such waste. I’ve never seen anyone dress like this in real life…nothing even close to this.
Mama pulls into a motel parking lot and stops under the awning of the office. A flashing sign says, “Kitchenette, TV and Telephone.” She goes inside and comes back out five minutes later with a room key.
“This will work for a few days…it’s cheap enough. I don’t have to be in San Antonio for a few weeks. We’ll see if your dad can pull it together.”
We pull around to room 149 and park in front of the door. There’s only one other car in the parking lot. A Shoney’s Restaurant is across the street and a busy gas station is on the corner. A group of three guys with bellbottoms and shiny sunglasses are leaning against their Pontiac, laughing and looking like they have nothing better to do than look cool.
Tulma seems like an entirely different continent.
MAMA OPENS THE trunk and pulls out her suitcase. I grab mine too and we haul it inside. The room is spacious for a motel, with two double beds and a small kitchen and bathroom. It’s not too bad, but the thought of staying in this small space with Mama for even one night is already making me claustrophobic.
Mama claims her bed and sprawls out on top of the bedspread. I unpack my suitcase, hanging up a few things and putting the rest in the bottom two drawers of the dresser, leaving the top two for Mama. She’s asleep by the time I’ve emptied my suitcase. I decide to take a shower, the only place inside that I can go to have any privacy. The water pours over my face, and I let the hot tears fall. I cry for the daddy I’ve lost. I know now the one I loved is gone for good. I cry for Isaiah and the hurt I’ve caused him. I see his bleak eyes pleading with me to stay, and I wish that I could have more than anything. I cry for the girl who is forever gone and wish that no one had found me i
n the fields. I could have just closed my eyes and let the dream carry me up to the clouds forever.
I HAD HOPED the dreams would fade once we were out of Tulma, but if it’s possible, they’ve only magnified. Every night is an ongoing nightmare of Leroy and Les, Les and Leroy, Leroy and Les, Les and Leroy…their voices are distorted and their eyes taunt me. I feel myself passing out over and over and I wake up throughout the night gasping for air. I wake up feeling like I didn’t sleep at all.
One day fades into the next and the next; each day worse than the last. Mama wants to pick a fight about everything. She tries to be the same controlling mother she’s always been and I’m having none of it. I won’t do anything for her. The days of me ironing her underwear are long gone. I don’t ask her to lift a hand for me either, but it wouldn’t matter—she’d be mad either way. It’s beneath her to be somewhere she doesn’t want to be. She drinks all day and moans about how her life was supposed to be so much better…how she should have just stayed with Grant and that Daddy never amounted to anything and never would. I put the pillow over my head and shut her out while she yells. On day four of this, I’ve had enough.
I begin to yell back.
“Just leave me here. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. I stopped needing you a long time ago. You make me miserable and I obviously make you miserable. Go! Just go and leave me the hell alone! Get out of my life. GO!”
She turns away from me, toward the wall and a cloud of red fury consumes me. I begin to shake violently and am too angry to care. I step in the space between the wall and her bed and lean down until my face is a foot from hers.
My teeth clench tightly and in a voice I didn’t know was in my arsenal, I mutter, “You’re not a mother. You’re an emotionless lump of nothing. All you do is make everything worse than it already is. I can take care of myself. And I don’t need someone else to tell me what a worthless person I am—I’ve already figured it out on my own.”