Reasons for Recovery

by Blair Burden

  Chapter 10

  August 18

  Raymond offered to drive us to school the next morning. He insisted on driving me as well because he said gas was too expensive. I knew his real reason. He probably thought I was going to ditch and tag the girls along with me.

  “I’ll pick you girls up at three sharp!” Raymond said. “And Cassidy, I’ll take you back home to get more clothes. You’re staying with us for a while,” he winked and he sped off before I could reply. Don’t stay with them Cassie. Go back home.

  “Um, okay?” I did not know what to say. I could not understand why a stranger was so nice to me. Why would he want to help a girl like me? Especially, since he realized I was off my wagon. I wouldn't even help a girl like me. If I were Raymond, I would run the next way and never look back. However, he had some issues of his own.

  “I have to go print something at the lab. I’ll see you guys later!” Betsy kissed Karen and ran off.

  I stared at Karen who seemed distant. “Are you sure you and your mom can’t patch things up?” she said as she realized me gazing at her.

  “I really don’t want to,” I said. “Actually, I don't want to at all!”

  “Why not?” she snapped. “You should consider it though.”

  “I thought you enjoyed my company.”

  “I do…it’s just…I can’t tell you now. I’ll write you in a letter.”

  “A letter? Ew.”

  “That’s what I’ll do,” Karen said while staring off into space.

  “So, is Betsy living with you?” I said to Karen.

  “Um, I’m not supposed to tell you, but my parents have temporary custody of Betsy,” she whispered. “Like a foster kid.”

  “Why?” I asked as we walked the halls.

  “Her mom went to jail for drug use.”

  “What? I thought her dad was in jail too?” I said.

  “He is. Betsy’s been living with us for five weeks already.”

  “You like taking in people, don’t you?”

  “Well, I’m an only child,” she hinted. “Oh yeah, where’d you go last night? Are you mad at me?” Karen said as we stopped at her English class.

  “I went downstairs and slept on the couch,” I lied. Actually, Raymond let me sleep in the back pool house because he was on the couch. I do not know why I didn’t tell Karen that. She did not need to know about her parents fighting.

  “Oh,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Well, duh.” I waved bye and watched her walk into class. Cassie, do not go back home with Karen. Go home to Mama.

  I ignored my dad’s voice and continued walking. As I turned around, the annoying Rat Pack were walking toward me with suspicious smiles on their face.

  “Why are you in the freshmen building?” I said. “Oh, I forgot you guys are idiots.”

  I was shocked as the Rat Pack walk passed me without a word. They did not torment me as they should or respond to what I said—strange.

  “Cassidy! Cassie!” Mr. Rivers shouted from his office as he saw me walk by. “I called Mr. Conner and he said it was okay that you missed this period. You’re excellent in English, so it wouldn’t matter.”

  I walked into his office in confusion. “Okay…”

  “What is wrong? Did you forget we were going to do this daily session?”

  I sat at my usual seat. “People think I’m crazy. I tried to make amends with Rosa but she called me a nut. Do you think something is mentally wrong with me?”

  “Maybe, but I’m not a doctor. I wouldn’t know—”

  “But you consider it?”

  Mr. Rivers began to dig around his cluttered office. “It would explain a lot—the voices, the memories that are so vivid, your intelligence, can all be a factor into a severe mental disorder. Just let me find that binder which has papers on it.”

  “Well, I don’t hear Mandy’s voice anymore. However, my dad’s is becoming more talkative.”

  “I think you should see a doctor,” he said and handed me the binder. “Flip through the pages and read upon disorders like schizophrenia and bipolar.”

  “I don’t want to accept that I could have a mental disorder.”

  “You may also have a form of Munchausen syndrome or maybe somatoform disorder.”

  “Those are attention disorders aren’t they? I don’t want attention!” I said. “That’s the last thing I want, Mr. Rivers.”

  “I don’t know, like I said…I’m not a doctor.”

  “I never thought of ways to get attention—”

  “Well, somatoform disorder can explain you in a way. You may not even be aware that you’re doing it.”

  “I think our daily sessions should end here,” I muttered.

  “But, I’m trying to help you.”

  “It seems more like your labeling me when I clearly need help.”

  “And that is what I’m doing. I’m trying to offer you help but you won’t listen!” he shouted. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, but I don’t want you to end up like Mandy—”

  “What do you mean, end up like Mandy?”

  “Well, I’m not supposed to give away confidential info, but she’s dead now and you were her best friend…well Mandy had an attention disorder,” he said quickly.

  “Like ADHD?”

  “Well, it was less of a disorder and more like pseudologia fantasica—”

  “In English please.”

  “She was sort of a pathological liar. And I knew this because we had daily sessions like these for about fourteen months. And she said some pretty crazy things. So, that is a reason why detectives were up your bum because they thought maybe you knew something…more maybe like there was no boyfriend or something out there.”

  I began to smile because of the new facts I knew. “She was a liar?”

  “Well, she liked to make up lies, particularly about you and her mother.”

  “Really?”

  “And she forgot things she lied about a lot too. She was the perfect person to be brainwashed. She was so gullible at times and forgot things easily as well, which explains her grades.”

  “Everything kind of makes sense now.”

  “You cannot tell anyone I disclosed this info with you. I would be in hell if they knew I told you this, especially since they are still trying to put the pieces together on her death. You don’t know anything do you?”

  “No, no I don’t,” I said as I got out my chair. “I should get going.”

  “But, what about our daily talks?”

  “I don’t think they’re helping at all. They’re making me worse.”

  “You’ll be fine, right?”

  “If I need to talk, I will come by here,” I smiled and walked out his office.

  I took a deep breath as everyone ran off to class again. I thought about going to art class but my mind was too busy and I couldn’t focus—not that you need to think in art. Well, maybe me since I failed.

  I sat down next to my locker like usual as I tried on new ways to put on my trademark eyeliner. I did not wear a crazy load of eyeliner like you would think. It was just enough to make the green in my eyes pop—I learned about that in Elle magazine. You need to stop putting on so much makeup, or you’ll age like Mama.

  I shook my head vigorously as daddy continued to talk. “What is wrong with me? I am not crazy. Those voices do not exist,” I said to myself as I flipped through a tabloid magazine.

  I made my mind focus on the perfect lives of celebrities. I always wanted to know what it was like to live in California and be neighbors with a celebrity. Sometimes my mind would get stuck on what if my family would have moved there. I would probably be a drug addict and partied all the time. Instead of defending celebrities, my dad would have been defending me every weekend.

  I began reading about an actress who poisoned her husband because she thought he was trying to kill her. Everyone claimed she was mentally ill, and now they want to lock her up in an institution. Maybe celebrities didn't have it too good.
Reading that made me feel like my life wasn't too bad after all.

  Just as expected, Karen turned the hall in anger. “Um, did you forget about art class?” she said as she sat next to me.

  I rolled my eyes and threw my magazines into my locker. “I think I want to be a makeup artist,” I said as I looked into my mirror trying to change the subject. “What do you think?”

  “Eh, I guess so.” With her glitter pen, Karen drew a heart on my wrist over an old scar. “You should be; I think you’re awesome.”

  “But, my mom wants me to be a journalist.”

  “No, don’t do that. Just be a makeup artist,” she said as she drew another heart. “I cannot imagine you as a journalist.”

  “I know, right?”

  “I wrote you the note,” she said as she dug around in her tiny handbag. “I just forgot where I put it,” she sighed.

  “I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me in person,” I chided. “What is the big deal?”

  Karen stared at me with her big eyes that had way too much glitter and said, “I just can’t tell you in person. It’s way too embarrassing.”

  “Did you finally get your period?” I teased.

  “What?” she gasped and threw her gum wrapper at me. “Why would I write that in a letter?”

  I began to laugh, “I don’t know, Karen. You’re strange.”

  Karen sighed again and then her eyes grew immense. I looked up to see what she was seeing. It was Jordan standing over us. He looked odd, dressed in a plaid shirt instead of his usual leather jacket.

  “Do you always ditch?” Jordan asked. “You’re a bad influence on your sister.”

  I thought about correcting him, but I did not. I just stared at him as he laughed his creepy laugh as if he were up to no good.

  “You have nice eyes,” he said as I stared up at him.

  “I tell her that all the time,” Karen agreed. “Right?”

  “Um…” I said. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

  “Well, I should but I’m not,” he laughed. “I’d rather smoke a cigarette.”

  “That is not a good habit,” I said.

  With his eyes still on me, Jordan leaned down next to us. Then, as he seemed uncomfortable, he gave in and just sat across from us. Now looking at Karen, he pulled a cigarette out his dirty black jeans and stuck it in his mouth. “Why doesn’t Dr. Smith write you up for ditching? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in trouble for it.”

  “You’ll be in huge trouble if you dare light that cigarette,” Karen said.

  “Your sister is right,” he said and stuck it back into his ripped pocket. “You don’t speak much, Cassie.”

  “Are you stalking me?” I finally spoke.

  Jordan laughed and I tensed up. “No, I’m not.”

  “He’s stalking you?” Karen laughed. “That’s my job!”

  “You have a really creepy laugh,” I said as my eyes narrowed. “And your voice is creepy too.”

  “How is my voice creepy? How do I laugh creepy,” he said as he began to laugh again.

  “I have no idea…it’s just sounds like you’re evil or wicked.”

  “Maybe I am,” he whispered.

  “I think it’s mysterious,” Karen said. “I like it.”

  “Thank you,” he replied as he crossed his legs and his smiled turned wicked. There was something about him I didn’t like—maybe the fact that he reminded me of every psycho boyfriend in a teen movie, or the fact that he talked as if he was always up to something. “So Cassie, is your name with a C or K?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Do you have a middle name?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said I’m stalking you…isn’t this what stalkers do?”

  I rolled my eyes, “Stalkers are undercover.”

  “Hmm…”

  “We should get to class,” I said as Jordan began to make me feel uncomfortable. “You should get to class too.”

  “Nah, I was just suspended,” Jordan said as he jumped to his feet. “Dr. Smith is a jerk.”

  “Why’d you get suspended?” Karen said as she stood up.

  “Let’s just say, Mr. Conner won’t be driving to the city in a while.”

  “You’re bad,” I said.

  Jordan winked and walked the opposite way. Karen’s mouth was nearly touching the floor as she watched him light his cigarette and walk out the school’s door. She smiled at me when she noticed I was staring at her.

  “I cannot believe we just talked to Jordan!” she beamed. “What until I tell Betsy.”

  I chuckled and bit my lip. “What is so cool about that?”

  “That is Jordan—bad boy Jordan. And he’s a senior and he talked to me!”

  “I’m a senior and I talk to you,” I mocked.

  “But, you’re a girl and you’re not a bad boy! I love bad boys,” she cheered. “I’m going to marry one when I’m older and tame him.”

  “Let me tell you something about that—”

  “Oh, Cassie you're so boring. Don't you want a bad boy?”

  “Not really.”

  “Like a guy who runs all the street lights and does ninety on the freeway! That's what I love.”

  “That stuff will get him killed. That isn't bad boy stuff. That is dumb boy stuff. If you ever meet a guy like that, I will kick his ass.”

  Karen stayed silent and just smiled.

  As we approached our art class I took a deep breath and got ready for everyone to stare at me once again. And to think people thought I loved having attention.

  Before I could walk in the class—“You’re late!” our teacher shouted.

  “Sorry,” I muttered as I walked to my seat.

  “Pull out a scratch paper and begin drawing what is on the board,” she ordered. “Karen will catch you up.”

  As the teacher said, I pulled out a scratch paper and sat at my seat which was across from Karen. “What are you drawing—”

  “OMG! He likes you!” Karen said as she continued drawing an ugly shaded apple. “Ooh, I think you will marry Jordan one day.”

  “What?” I gasped. “Why would he like me?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “Just because you’re obsessed with me doesn’t mean everyone likes me.”

  “Well, I know boys. I’m educated in this stuff,” she said. “And he likes you and you like him too. You never smile but you’re smiling right now.”

  I touched my mouth and I could feel my wet teeth. I was smiling. But, I wasn’t smiling because of Jordan; I was smiling because of how stupid Karen was.

  My day went on as good as any day in my life could have gone—it could have been worse. Mandy could be around—wait that sounds mean. Well, the day went by fast and before I knew it, the bell to go home rang and I was the first one out the door, but then I remembered I didn’t bring my car.

  “When is your dad coming?” I said as the streets began to get emptier. “Is he even on his way?”

  “He should be,” Karen said. “He won’t answer his phone.”

  “I knew I should have driven my car.”

  “Wait there he is!” Betsy said as Raymond turned the street corner.

  “I feel like a loser waiting for someone to pick me up when I have a car. I’m already a loser, but this just makes me feel—”

  “Shut up!” Karen said as he opened the car door. “Hi, daddy!”

  “Hey girls. I’m sorry I’m late. I had to call delivery for dinner,” Raymond said. “Have a good day?” he asked, as we got into his shiny sports car, which made me think: how the hell was he so rich, if he did not work? I never saw him get up and go to work nor did he talk about an at-home job. Did he have a money tree or some genie that the rest of the world did not know about?

  “Um…yeah it was fun.” Betsy said.

  “A blast,” Karen said sarcastically.

  “And you?” he asked me as he watched me get into the backseat.

  “Eh, yeah…fine,” I sai
d.

  “You’re not too convincing,” he said.

  “I try,” I said as I played with my hair.

  “I see.” Raymond drove off, driving about seventy miles per hour. “We are going to go by Cassidy’s home first.”

  “I could have driven there myself.”

  “Oh no!”

  “It’s really no bother,” I said as I played with my hair. “I really don’t want you to drive to my side of town, especially with this nice car.”

  “Cassidy, you won’t get out of this situation. I’m taking you whether you want me to or not!”

  Do not let him take you back home. Cassie, honey, don’t go back home. You’re just going to be hurt even more.

  “But he won’t stop,” I whispered aloud without realizing it.

  “Are you okay?” Karen said.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive me back home.”

  Within four minutes, Raymond turned onto my street. “Is this your home, Cassidy?” he asked as he pulled up to the curb.

  “Eh, yes,” I said as I spotted a strange car in my garage. “I’ll go in quick.”

  “No, I’ll go in too,” he said as he opened his car door. “I should meet your mother.”

  “Nope!” I held him back. “I insist—”

  Before I could stop him, he was already on the front steps before me. He rocked back and forth, as he put his hands in his black jean’s pockets. His smile caught me off guard as he knocked on the front door. He ran his hands threw his hair and then pulled out some gum from his plaid shirt’s pocket. “Do you have a key?”

  “Nope…well I do,” I coughed, “but it’s in Karen’s room.”

  Raymond knocked on the door as if he were a cop. I put my ear to the window and I could hear Mama. “We should go,” I said as he continued to bang on the door.

  “Why?” he gasped. “I didn’t waste my gas to be ignored.”

  “Let’s just go,” I said as I tried to pull him off the porch.

  “Why?”

  “Because!”

  “Because what?”

  “Because my mom is busy with the town’s drunk!” I cried and ran back to the car. I slammed open the car door and put my head down to avoid the girls’ eye contact. “Tell your dad, let’s go!” I put my head between my knees as I could feel Karen and Betsy staring at me.

  Karen sighed and got out the car. “Daddy, you know she is a mental patient. You can’t upset her like that,” I overheard Karen say.

  “Did she just say I’m a mental patient?” I said as I lifted my head up.

  Betsy shrugged and began to play with my hair. “I don’t know.”

  Karen pulled Raymond off the porch and back to the car. He seemed so disappointed as if it were his fault my mom was a…you know what.

  “I’m sorry, Cassidy,” he said through the window. “I’ll just drive back home.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time!”

  “Well, can you blame me?” he said. “I was just trying to help.”

  In what seemed to be a pissed off mood, Raymond sat back in the driver’s seat with his hand on the steering wheel. He did not turn the vehicle on, he just dazed off into space as if his mind was somewhere else.

  “Are we going to drive or what?” I snapped. “I have things to do.”

  “We should just wait here,” he said as he continued to stare off into space. “We can wait until your mother comes out here.”

  My body stiffened and I poked Karen for her to make him leave. She shrugged and waved her tiny hands in front of her dad’s face. He was so out of it—so gone. I had never seen someone so distant like that since…well never.

  “That’s it, I’m leaving!” I snapped as I got out of the car. “I can’t take it.”

  “Wait, don’t leave!” Raymond said as he snapped back to life. “I’ll drive now.”

  “It’s too late!” I said and walked down the street toward Simon Park.

  Not wanting to look back, I half turned my face so it wouldn’t seem like I wanted them to come after me. However, they were gone. I paused in place as I searched for the shiny sports car—they left me!

  “Watch out!” a man speeding on a skateboard said as he came crashing into me.

  “Ah!” I screamed and crashed onto the wet grass.

  “I told you to watch out!” he said and jumped on his skateboard and didn’t even bother to help me up.

  “What am I? Chicken scratch?” I muttered as I stood to my feet. My eyes perked up as much as a human’s can, as I heard the world’s creepiest laugh. “Jordan?”

  With his leather jacket and wet helmet, Jordan pulled up to the curb on his motorcycle. “That was pretty funny—you falling on the grass.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah right…what’s so funny about that?”

  “So, your mother wasn’t home?” he said as he turned his red motorcycle off.

  I stared at his expression as he turned from laughter to seriousness. “How’d you know?”

  “I was across the street at my grandmother’s house and I saw you on the porch there,” he chided. “This doesn’t help the fact that you think I’m stalking you. It’s funny because the more I talk to you, the more you remind me of Mandy—”

  “Don’t say that!” I covered my ears and began to hum. “I don’t want people to say that I remind them of her.”

  “Why not? Isn’t that a good thing?” Jordan opened his jacket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. He offered me one, but I refused.

  “You shouldn’t smoke so much.”

  “Eh, why?”

  “My dad died from lung cancer. That is all I can think about when I see those sticks. He started smoking at your age too.”

  With a calm smile, Jordan handed me the box of cigarettes. “You take them.”

  “No, I said I didn’t want them—”

  “Calm down, Minnie Mouse, I want you to trash them for me. Just for you, I’ll quit.”

  I snatched the cigarette box and stuffed them in my handbag. “You can’t just quit like that.”

  “If I don’t,” he paused and started up his bike again, “you can punch me in the jaw like you did to Kyle, which by the way left him a pretty nasty bruise.”

  “Okay, it’s a deal,” I winked.

  “Later!” he said and sped off down the street.

  I entered Karen’s home late at night, because the buses seemed to only run every two hours. As expected, no one greeted with ‘ohs and awws, or we were so worried about you.’ No one seemed to notice I was gone. I told you not to go back to them!

  “Really, dad…you’re confusing me now. First, you wanted me to stay here and leave Mama now you’re saying—”

  “Are you okay?” Marla said as she stared at me in confusion. “Who are you talking to?”

  I collapsed back onto the couch and sighed. “No one.”

  “I’m watching this movie, you can watch it too,” she said as if she was giving me the privilege to be with her. “Here,” she threw a thick wool blanket over me, since she noticed I was shivering.

  I could not stand being in the same room with Marla, let alone be under the same blanket as her. She was a cheat. It was the elephant in the room. I wanted to call her out so badly—

  With loud movements, Raymond came downstairs with his guitar, interrupting the film my thoughts. He stumbled over the olive green throw rug that sat perfectly at the edge of the stairs.

  “Ugh,” Marla sighed and turned the television off. “No one wants to hear that trash!”

  “Do you like music, Cassidy?” Raymond said.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Raymond, she doesn’t want to talk to you!” Marla snapped. “Do you not get it? She wants to be left alone. Cassidy, you should just go get ready for bed.”

  “I’m okay,” I insisted. “I have nothing better to do.”

  “No, just go to the room,” she said. Listen to her Cassidy. Go to the
room NOW!

  “Ugh,” I snapped and covered my ears. “I’m fine!”

  The phone rang and Marla ran off to answer it in a jiffy. I swallowed as I watched Raymond’s expression go from delight to pain. I was afraid he was going to explode. I did not want any of that happening while I was there. I was just an innocent guest. So much for thinking Karen’s family was perfect.

  “I like all music,” I said, snapping him back to me.

  “Oh, really…rock?”

  “I like pop too.”

  “Oh, that’s nice, Cassidy” he muttered as he listened to Marla laugh on the phone.

  “It’s Cassie,” I broke the silence.

  “Huh?” he said as he came back to reality.

  “Cassie. Call me Cassie not Cassidy.”

  “Cassidy is your name, right?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Cassie,” he smiled. “I’m sorry about today.” With his eyes still on me, Raymond stood up and walked into the kitchen. He came back into the den with a black trash bag and handed it to me.

  “What is this?”

  “Your stuff,” he beamed. “We went back to get it.”

  “You were in my house?” I snapped. “I told you to not go in there!”

  “Calm down, your mother packed everything. After we left, Karen felt bad and said for us to go pick you up. So, when we turned onto your street, Valeria was standing on the porch smoking.”

  I took a deep breath. “Well…thanks I guess.”

  “You don’t seem too happy about it. Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, it’s not you,” I muttered. “Next time, just listen to me.”

  “Do you and your mother not get along?”

  “It’s a win-lose situation. We are never on perfect terms.”

  Raymond rubbed his hands together. “I had a mother like that—she was evil though. I hated her.”

  “Hate is a strong word—”

  “She tried to kill me when I was four and I still remember it until this day. I think about it all the time. She killed my sister too,” he whispered.

  “Why do you say too?”

  “She killed herself.”

  “I don’t know what to say and I thought I had a bad life—”

  “And she used to beat me,” he whined. “Every day, all day long. She was an atrocious mother! I promised I would never—”

  “Cassie! You came back!” Karen yelled from the top of the stairs. “Come up here, I need to talk to you.

  I rolled my eyes, knowing what Karen had to say was nowhere near close to seeking my attention as to what Raymond was saying. “I’m talking to your dad right now.”

  “But, this is very important—it’s about the note.”

  “Karen, I don’t give a damn about your note!” I snapped. “Shut up about the note!”

  “No, go talk to her; I’m just annoying,” Raymond said. “You can go.”

  “No, she can wait. You’re here spilling your guts to me and she can’t just interrupt you like that,” I said as Karen went back to her room and slammed the door shut.

  “I don’t like when people fight. You should go comfort her,” he said.

  I stayed silent and stared at Raymond’s face to find a wrinkle. He had none. “How old are you?” I asked while not making eye contact.

  “Old enough to be your papa,” he laughed.

  “Nah,” I spit. “You look like ten times younger than my mom.”

  “I don’t do drugs, I drink…occasionally, always use sunscreen and I don’t party.”

  “No wrinkles, eh?”

  “I hope not,” he chuckled, while picking at his skin. “Marla and I had Karen when we were thirteen.”

  “You have to be kidding me!” I gasped and thought about my pregnancy. “Thirteen?”

  “Yup!”

  “Wow, you guys were so young,” I said in amazement. “What, you’re like thirty now?”

  “Not yet…I’m twenty-eight.”

  I smiled, “You’re still young.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I knew you had to be young. You look like a college student. For three months, I had thought you were Karen’s older brother when you guys would come to the bowling center—or at least Marla’s boyfriend—but too young to be a dad of a teenager.”

  He laughed and put his guitar on the floor. “Great compliment—”

  “I’ve got a night shift,” Marla said as she grabbed her keys to leave.

  “Puff!” I said, under my breath.

  “Where are your scrubs?” Raymond asked.

  “Um…in the car,” she lied. “I love you, bye!” and she ran out the house before he could say anything.

  “Fifteen years together…Marla and I,” he said as he got up to lock the door.

  “I turn eighteen in about a month,” I said, changing the subject. He was depressing me way too much.

  “Do you?” he said. “Did you flunk a level?”

  “Um...not that I know of.”

  “Hmm, well it shall be a new chapter in your life.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You can make the pool house your crash place for now.”

  “Really…thanks.”

  “I’m a nice guy. I can’t just let you live on the streets.”

  “Well, you don’t have to, but thank you.”