Dream Smashers

by Angela Carlie

  I face her, trying my best to stay normal, if there is such a thing. My cheeks feel like they’re being skinned with a dull knife from all of the smiling. Rule Number One. “Hi. Would you like a dinner roll?” I pick up the tongs and place one on her plate. “How are you feeling today?” I can’t believe I just asked her that. I don’t care how she’s feeling—evil witch. She’s drunk. Just go away. Don’t answer. Go away.

  “Ain’t you sweet. Did ya know…that—” She lets out a loud belch and starts to lean before catching herself and standing straight. “Did Ma…did Grams tell ya ‘bout her dream?” She laughs a wicked laugh.

  “No, she didn’t. Do you want me to help you with your tray, Jacinda?” I ask, hoping to move her along.

  “You ungwateful little bwat!” She yells and points her dirty finger at me. “You shouldn’t calls me dat. I’m yer mom. You calls me Mom. Got it?”

  ***

  In third grade Rainy’s cousin had a birthday party. We were inseparable by then, so when she got an invitation it had both our names on it. It was the party of all parties, with girls pretending to be princesses dancing around in long frilly dresses and wearing plastic diamond tiaras and earrings.

  Rainy did my make-up that day, using her best glittering blue eye shadow and pink blush. She made us up to look like twins. Grams bought pink satin fabric and white lace to sew us matching dresses that hung heavy to the ground. It was the most glamorous party I had ever attended. Until my mom showed up.

  I didn’t know at the time why she was always so mean. I only knew that she was, and I hated her for it.

  She stood on the front lawn before the party ended, calling my name. “Autumn Spring Winters! Oh, Autumn. Come on out and hug your mama.”

  I hid in the house, behind the thick curtains, and watched as Mr. Johnston and Mr. Moen tried to persuade her to leave. She didn’t. “Autumn! Get the fuck out here you ungrateful little brat!” She continued on like that, and one by one each guest disappeared out the back door so not forced to face her. Not soon enough, a police car showed up, and took her away kicking and screaming.

  Rainy pulled me from the window. She wiped my face with tissue and then reapplied the blue eye shadow.

  We were never invited to a princess party at her cousin’s house again. And that is when my mom became Jacinda to me.

  ***

  Anger rushes from my brain to my chest then back up to my mouth, and before I can stop myself, I yell back. “You aren’t my mom! You aren’t a mother at all.” Tears stream out of my eyes. Great. I wipe them away, hoping nobody sees them.

  Evan jumps to my side, his hand on my shoulder. “Jacinda. You should go now. Take your food and go please.” He signals for one of the guards by the front door that I didn’t notice until now.

  “Awwww. How sweet. Mama’s baby has a boyfriend.” She sways backward and doesn’t catch herself in time. Her food tray clamors to the floor, just as her body hits a table and tumbles to the ground too. Getting into a crawling position, on all fours, she says, “Autumn. Help me. Help me, Autumn, I falled.”

  Sweat, tears, heat, salt, swimming down my face.

  Evan runs around the counter to help Jacinda off the ground.

  This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

  The security guard helps Evan pick her up.

  “Hey. Hey.” She wipes the saliva off her mouth before stuffing a roll into it. With her mouth full, she says, “Did Ma ever tells you ‘bout…’bout the good ‘ole pastor?” Her smile reveals bread covered teeth. But beneath the bread, the rotting decay shows right through. “He’s yers daddy. Dat bastard.” She shakes her head. Tears drop out of her eyes now too. “Dat bastard.”

  My mind races in a blur of thoughts. No one has ever mentioned a pastor to me. She’s not making any sense.

  “Okay, Jacinda. Let’s go now, sweetheart,” the guard says. He’s too nice to her. Way too nice.

  She stumbles, not knowing or caring that two men are practically carrying her.

  “I’ve got her now, Evan. You go take care of Miss Autumn over there.” The guard picks up Jacinda like she’s a child and carries her out of the dining area.

  “Put me down mudder fuckah! Dat’s my daughta over there. I love my daughta.”

  I can’t move. I can’t talk. It hurts. Oh God, it hurts.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Her face, lifeless of blood. Her eyes, dark as the abyss. Evan sees her pain. He feels her sorrowful energy, but can’t fathom what she must be going through. Life has never been dark for him as it must be for her right now. There has always been light, love, family, and hope. Hope creates the light for no matter how dark it gets, it shines the way.

  “Autumn?” he says.

  She’s in a trance, a deep pit, and either doesn’t hear him or ignores him. Perhaps she just can’t respond right now. Maybe she doesn’t want to.

  Alice trots behind the buffet. “Oh darlin’. You alright?” She embraces the lifeless shell of a girl. “Of course you ain’t.” She kinks her neck and reaches up, holds Autumn’s face in her hands and looks into her eyes. “Listen, that woman is going to be just fine. Whether she is or she isn’t your momma, you don’t worry one bit. We’ll give her a nice bed to sleep it off. Okay? Booze makes people do funny things.”

  Autumn doesn’t respond, only runs her fingers back and forth over the bracelet around her wrist.

  “I’m going to have Evan take you home now. You go home and get some rest. Ya hear me?”

  Autumn finally shows some sign of recognition with a nod of her head.

  “Okay.” Alice looks at me. “Evan, you go get her things now and take this poor girl home. She’s traumatized.”

  He runs to grab their things out of the locker. When he turns around, Alice is standing at the back door with her stubby arm on Autumn’s shoulder. The diverse contrast between the woman’s short body and the girl’s tall one is oddly freakish.

  Autumn’s physical beauty is savage. Her sadness only enhances a strange visceral feeling to protect her, to take her in his arms and to comfort her—any and all ways possible. He steps forward, holding out her jacket.

  “Okay you two. Off with ya.” Alice turns to Evan. “You make sure she gets home safely. Call me if you need anything.” She opens the door.

  Dark eyes stare at Evan. A glimmer passes through them, stirring a desire stronger than he’s ever known. She breaks eye contact and grabs the jacket from his hand. Her fingers brush his. A tingling jolt, like an icy-hot bullet, shoots up his arm and needles travel up his spine. If it were just she and Evan, she would be in his arms right now, crushed against his chest. He’d hold her so tight she couldn’t move. He’d keep her safe. This, he desperately wants, more than anything. To keep her close, sheltered from the cruel world.

  They step into the night air and walk without words to the car.

  Evan opens the car door for her. She looks up at him. “Thank you.” The grateful expression on her face, the silky sound of her voice, only pushes him closer to the edge. Alice no longer stands in the doorway of the Share Home. This is his chance to hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay. He turns to her, with the words ready to burst from his lips.

  But, she’s already in the car. He wasn’t fast enough.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I totally thought he’d kiss me. But he didn’t. His eyes told me that he wanted to, unless I misread him. I’ve been known to do that before. Usually I’m in-tune with others’ feelings, but on a rare occasion I’m wrong. Maybe this is one of those times. It surely would be embarrassing if he doesn’t want to and I go for it. Rejection, right now, would be too much. Jacinda gave me enough stress already tonight. Another blow could be devastating.

  “You ready?” Evan clears the frog from his voice. “Are you ready to go?”

  I nod. But, I don’t want to go home. The thought of going home right now makes me cringe. Tonight’s going to be my little secret. There’s no reason why Grams needs to know about Ja
cinda. It’s just another ordeal for her to worry and she doesn’t need anything else to worry about—that’s for sure. I’ll think of a way to find out more about the pastor Jacinda mentioned, my secret father that has been kept from me my entire life. Now I know a tiny bit of that secret, a pastor, a servant of the church, my father. None of these words belong together in the same sentence. Perhaps I misunderstood what Jacinda said.

  Evan starts up the engine. “Need to let the engine warm up a bit.” He reaches over to turn the knob on the radio. Ugh. I hope it’s not the country station again.

  A melody resonates from the speakers. It’s not country. I’ve never heard this song before. It almost sounds like folk music, I think, but modern.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “Do you like it?” His face lights up again. This boy is very easy to please.

  I shrug. “Sure.”

  He turns it up. “Listen to the words. It’s a great song.”

  Ah, yeah. I should have known. A Jesus-loves-me song. “Is this a CD or a radio station?”

  “It’s the Christian radio station. Do you ever listen to it?”

  “Uh…” I half-smile. “I might have.” Like, never.

  “We sang this song in church yesterday. We have an entire band that plays great music like this every Sunday.”

  “You sing?” Is there anything he doesn’t do?

  “Yeah. Don’t you?”

  “Um… Yeah, of course. Singing’s cool.”

  “You, uh, want to go sometime?”

  “Maybe. Someday.” I totally can’t believe I just said that. I haven’t been to church since I was a kid. Grams stopped forcing me years ago when tantrums became a prerequisite for my attendance.

  “Really? I think you’d enjoy it if you did. Next week we’re going to have a guest speaker. Do you want to go then?”

  “Sure. Why not.” I shrug. “It could be fun if you’re there. Will I have to meet your parents and stuff?”

  “Unfortunately.” He laughs, then bites his lip, hard. “They’re real nice though.” He flicks the key ring hanging from the ignition. And then, as if reassuring him rather than me, he says, “You don’t need to worry.”

  “I’m sure they are. I mean, since they raised you, I’m sure they’re nice people.” This could be a good thing. Just being around Evan helps the bad disappear. Jacinda’s little episode ten minutes ago in the Share Home is almost an ancient memory. I’m not sure exactly how that could be, but I’m not going to question a good thing. Who needs drugs and alcohol when they can just have Evan? Ha. I crack myself up. Especially since I just agreed to go to church and meet his parents all in a matter of minutes. Ugh. God help me!

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Her sorrowful energy disappears. Replaced by a different kind of energy, one that reminds him of a sunny spring day with cherry blossoms blowing in the wind. This new energy is even more tantalizing than all the others Evan felt her give off. The layers of Autumn seem to be never ending. Everything about her fascinates him.

  This girl is so mysterious. Questions about her mother sit at the edge of his tongue, but that would make her sad again. The questions can wait.

  “I think the engine is warmed up enough. Do you want some heat?” he asks.

  “Yes please.” She rubs her hands together.

  He flips on the heater and then puts the gear shift into first.

  “Hey, do you mind if we not go home right away? Grams probably isn’t expecting me for another couple hours so we can go do something else if you want.”

  “Really? Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”

  “Psssh. Totally.” She rolls her eyes. “I know! We can go to the park!”

  “Which one?”

  “The one over by Washington High. Do you know where it is?”

  “Yep. Sure do.” Evan takes off down the road, anticipating an evening of child’s play on swings and maybe even a trip down the slide.

  ***

  “Hurry Evan. Hurry up!” Autumn runs toward the swings. He struggles to get out of the car fast enough, tripping through the seat belt.

  “Wait up,” Evan calls after her, but she’s already diving into a swing face first.

  “Woo hoo!” She cries and flies like Superman on the swing. “Come on Evan. Come push me.”

  He jogs over to the swings. She sits on her bottom, gripping the chains, and up she goes. He pushes her higher and higher and higher.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  This is what carefree must feel like, soaring through the air, up and up. “Higher, Evan, push me higher.” His touch is gentle, but strong on my back.

  He laughs. “If you go any higher you’ll hit an airplane.”

  Yes. Push me higher, as high as it will go. Don’t stop. I don’t need a fancy, old car. I don’t even need a list of rules. What I have right now is all I need to be carefree.

  The cold air whips through my hair, the moisture from the fog clings to my clothes, but I don’t care. “I love this. You should totally try it.” I drag my feet in the bark to slow down. “Here, you try it.”

  “How about we swing together?” He sits on the swing next to me and pumps his legs. “I bet I can get higher.”

  “That’s a bet you’ll lose.” I pump my legs as hard as I can, but he’s ahead of me. He goes forward as I go back—back and forth and back and forth.

  “Are you having fun yet?” I ask.

  He watches me as I pass him. “This was a great idea. I haven’t been on swings in a long time.”

  “Me either. Why do you think that is? It’s crazy that we ever stopped swinging. Everyone should have a swing set in their yard. It should be mandatory that everyone swings once a day.”

  Evan says, “Do you know first aid?”

  “Um, no. Why?”

  “Oh well.” He gets as high as he can go and for a split second the swing stalls. He jumps, flaying his hands above his head. I watch, mouth agape, stopped heart, as he falls to the ground in slow motion. He lands, not on his feet, but laughing and rolling around in the bark chips.

  “Are you okay?” I giggle.

  Springing from the ground, he shouts, “Yes!” and takes a bow.

  “I wanna try!” I’m scared, but I’m not. I pump my legs hard again. Up and up and up I go. Please don’t let me fall on my face. Just as I peak at the highest point, I let go and leap. The world doesn’t slow down like it did when Evan did it. It speeds up and before I know it, I’m on the ground and somehow in his arms.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  She’s light as air. Evan will never let her fall. Holding her, he swings her about. Round and round they go. She laughs. He laughs.

  “This is crazy. I’m totally dizzy,” she cries.

  They stop.

  “I can’t believe you caught me. I was totally ready to hit the ground face first.”

  “If I didn’t get in your way, I’m sure you would have.” Evan sets her down.

  She dashes for the merry-go-round. “Come on. Since you’re so keen on spinning, I’ll take you for one now.”

  “I thought you were dizzy.” He shouts and runs full speed to catch up with her.

  “I am. But you’re not. Wow, you’re uber fast. Weren’t you just way back there by the swings?”

  “Yep. Sure was.”

  “Ah, that’s right, you run. Well, I’m impressed Mr. Speed Angel.” She grabs the cold bar and spins the merry-go-round, then hops on and lies supine on the cold metal base. Evan pushes it gently and steps on, sitting next to her.

  “Look.” She points up to the sky. “The clouds are breaking up and you can totally see the stars.”

  He sprawls out from under the handle bars, feeling the ice-metal through his jacket. Thousands of stars twinkle through the torn clouds. “When we were younger, my parents sent us to church camp every summer. We sometimes dragged our sleeping bags out of the cabins to sleep under the stars. I’d never seen so many in my life. It was like—like we were discovering something new tha
t no one in the world had ever seen.” He turns to his side to look at her. “Have you ever been camping out in the woods?”

  “Not real camping, but me and Rainy used to sleep in the backyard with our sleeping bags in the summer when we were younger.” She laughs under her breath. “Gramps would build us a campfire and we’d roast marshmallows. It was fun, but probably not as fun as out in the woods.”

  “I think you’d love real camping.” Maybe he’ll take her sometime. He didn’t dare be so bold yet to say something like that though.

  The light from the street lamp oozes into the park, allowing some visibility, but not much. Autumn gazes straight up into the sky as fog rolls over them. She doesn’t move.

  “Isn’t fog funny?” she asks.

  “How do you mean?”

  “It’s just strange. One minute it’s over there and the next it’s totally on top of you. You know? And it’s water in the air, and it’s blinding. Real water is clear, but fog is—well, foggy.”

  He doesn’t want to burst her bubble by explaining the science behind fog, so he won’t. It does seem mystical when you don’t know the reasons for it. Instead, he jumps off the whirling piece of steel and gives it another push before hopping back on.

  The faint sound of metal brushing against metal makes for a backdrop against the silence.

  He watches her watching the sky. Every few seconds the fog opens up for a moment and he sees her more clearly. Mostly, she’s a shadow penetrating the air.