Dream Smashers

by Angela Carlie

Suddenly, I have an instant change of heart, or a burst of adrenaline, or a brain-fart, whatever you want to call it. “So, you’re clean?” As if I care.

  “Yep. Since October 13th—thirty-three days. And I ain’t goin back either.” She leans in to take a chomp out of her burger, exposing her rotting teeth, an ever reminder of a lifetime lived only thirty-three days ago.

  “How do you know?”

  She chews with caution. “Because I say so, that’s how.”

  I pick at the wedges of crispy flavor. They don’t seem so flavorful at the moment. “But, you’ve tried to be clean before. Right?”

  Her head snaps, a little too jerky, a bit closer to her right shoulder. “Yeah. So?”

  So. Serious. She’s never ever been clean in her whole life. That’s what’s so. I’m not brilliant or anything, but like Rainy said, “Once a tweaker always a tweaker.” The adrenaline must have drained from my veins, because I don’t have the will to tell her. She is, after all, being nice to me for no particular reason for the first time in my entire life.

  “Nothing,” I say instead.

  “I ain’t never been clean since I was a teenager—your age.” She gestures at me and takes another bite of burger. “I need to move far away from this place. It’s got too many memories and it’s too hard to stay clean here.”

  “You’re moving?” I’m interested, but only because a spark of hope ignites my heart that I’ll never have to see her. “Where are you going?”

  I turn my gaze toward the truckers at the bar to not have to witness the disgusting display of food in her mouth as she speaks. Not that mashed-up cheeseburger is bad, but the combination of black teeth with bright red gums surrounded by the mashed-up cheeseburger tends to push me over the top of the gag hill. I’d rather watch truckers and hairy dudes pick their butt cracks than watch her talk with her mouth full.

  “Montana.”

  Sweet! I force the near-giddy-laugh away. “Oh. That’s kinda far. I’m sure you won’t see any of your old drug buddies there.”

  “That’s the plan.” She looks directly at me. “You’ll come. Won’t you?”

  I steal a double-take. “What?”

  “To Montana. I hear it’s great there. Just as pretty and all as here, with mountains and trees. Less rain though. You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

  This time, my thoughts zip out of my mouth before hitting my brain. “How do you know what I’ll love? You don’t know anything! I’m not going to Montana. What makes you think I would?”

  She puts her half-eaten burger onto the plate. “I wasn’t sure, but thought I would ask.” A familiar edge cuts through her voice.

  “What about Grams?” I ask. “Does she want to pack everything up and move?”

  “I’m not inviting her.”

  I need space and push my chair back away from the table. “Let me get this straight. You’re moving to Montana to get away from drugs and you want me to go with you but you don’t want Grams to go?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why don’t you want Grams to go? Who do you expect to take care of her?”

  “She’s a big girl and can take care of herself. I don’t need her meddling in my new life.”

  “You…you…” Every muscle in my body tenses. “You are so—”

  “So, I take it you ain’t coming?”

  “Yeah. You can take it that way.” I stand. Muscles constrict my throat, almost choking me. “Why are you only nice when you want something? Why all of a sudden do you want me around?”

  Jacinda shifts in her chair and grabs the napkin—scattering the silverware—to wipe her fake drama tears that emerge with no notice. “I told you why.” She practically bawls. Crazy witch. “You are my daughter…my child! You don’t really have a choice.”

  “No, I’m NOT your daughter. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever known! I hate you!” The anger flows and I can’t stop it if I want to. I could just kick her head in.

  Her tears dry up as fast as they arrived and her eyes direct narrow evil beams into mine. “You will come whether you like it or not.”

  Bitch. I turn and run from her as fast as I can, out of the café without stopping. The wet air hits me. I run down the sidewalk despite the rain pounding me every which way imaginable. I need to get as far away from her as possible.

  My lungs burn.

  How dare her!

  I scream.

  She can’t just show up after being an evil-meth-monster all my life and decide she wants to be a mom. It’s not right. Grams won’t let her take me. She’ll see.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Jacinda steps out of the Share Home into fresh air. Finally. And walks with her head down and hood up to keep the rain out of her eyes. Every time her step hits the outside world, the very second fresh air touches her face, the clouds release their liquid pain on her head—never giving her a fucking break. Doesn’t she deserve sunny days and a life of her own? It’s like she has a Charlie Brown cloud constantly following her around.

  What’s the point of having a covered designated smoking area if it’s across the fucking parking lot? Smokers have to get soaked before reaching the cover. Stupid.

  She reaches the butt-littered shelter with a vandalized bench, digs in the dark void of her bag and pulls out a pack of smokes. Sitting down on the bench, she lights a cigarette with a pink lighter, the very same lighter that she snagged from Darla, who ain’t called her once since the hospital. Some friend.

  The rain slows. Jacinda’s pretty fucking sure it’ll start again as soon as she’s done smoking. Smoke fills her lungs, relaxing every muscle and filling her with a fierce satisfaction. She coughs. Oh well. She doesn’t need to breathe anyway.

  A familiar hacking echoes from behind her. Great. Ma’s coming to steal what little peace she has out here by herself. Ma’s already lit her cigarette and puffs away while inching toward Jacinda. With her body hunched over, her tiny feet scuttle across the wet pavement toward the shelter.

  “Move over.” Ma pushes Jacinda’s leg and squishes her skinny ass onto the bench. She coughs before taking another drag off her smoke and dropping it onto the ground to smash with her shoe. “What’s your plan?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Naggy and nosey as usual.

  “Well.” Ma wraps a gray overcoat tighter around her absent waist. “There’s a rumor that you’re moving to Montana. Were you planning on telling me?”

  “Not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business, but yeah. I’m moving and I’m going to take my daughter with me.” Ma thinks she can control Jacinda’s every move, but not this time. Jacinda’s calling the shots now, like any adult should. This is her fucking life.

  Ma’s brittle hands twitter. Her gaze stays straight in front of her, unable to look at Jacinda because they’re squished on this stupid bench. “I’m very proud that you’ve been able to clean yourself up. It’s been something that I’ve prayed for since you started using drugs. You can’t even imagine how happy that makes me.”

  Silence.

  Ma doesn’t mean her stupid words. If she means them, she wouldn’t have kicked Jacinda out of the house. She wouldn’t have taken Jacinda’s daughter. She would have loved Jacinda and helped her.

  Ma’s phlegm-voice continues. “Do you plan on working?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying to get a job.”

  “I hear they’re hiring at Matt’s Café. They’d probably hire you on.”

  “That’s nice and all, but I ain’t working at no café washing dishes.” That kind of job is for kids. Jacinda’s thirty-three-years-old. They ain’t gonna want no old lady washing their dishes.

  Ma’s bottom lip sticks out. “I see. What kind of job are you expecting to get?”

  The condescending tone in her voice flickers with Jacinda’s heart. Hers goes flat when she says, “I think I could do office work.”

  “Have you taken any classes?”

  “No! What the fuck do I need classes for? Math was an easy class in high
school. There ain’t no reason why I can’t get a bookkeeping job. I’m just as good as anybody else.”

  “But you didn’t graduate high school, dear.”

  Jacinda blasts off the bench and whips around to face Ma. “You don’t think I can do it? It fuckin’ figures! You ain’t never believed I could do anything. All you care about is your precious Autumn. Autumn this, or Autumn that. Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m taken her far away from you and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.”

  The rain shatters on the roof of the shelter, muffling the frustration that would have screamed out of the confined space if allowed to.

  Ma lights another smoke.

  Jacinda waits.

  “I never said that you couldn’t do it,” Ma says. “You need some education first. And you know that I love you and will support you.”

  Stupid words. That’s all they are—words that don’t mean a fucking thing. She don’t love her.

  “But I’m afraid you aren’t ready to take Autumn yet.” Ma stares past Jacinda, out into the rain, the parking lot. “You are welcome to visit her anytime she wishes to see you, but she’s not going anywhere with you as far as I’m concerned. And, if you do decide to kidnap her, that’s exactly what it will be considered as—kidnapping. The police’ll be called. You’ll be arrested. I’m sorry.”

  Acid boils into Jacinda’s chest and throat. “She’s my daughter. I won’t be arrested.”

  “Yes, you will. According to the court order, I’m her guardian, not you.”

  “Then I’ll change it! You can’t have her no more, you stupid selfish hag. I hate you!”

  A half-smile glimmers on Ma’s wrinkle-puckered lips for a second and then she looks straight at Jacinda. The gray-ridden fog in front of her corneas clear—exposing an eye full of pupil. “I don’t know why you have it in your cockamamie head that no one loves you or why you feel so sorry for yourself or how you turned into this…” She grasps for a word. “…person. But if you want to move, then fine. You can go as far away as you’d like. By yourself. And you can pout and feel sorry for poor little Jacinda. By yourself. Go!” She leans over, closer to Jacinda. “But know this. Autumn is not a little girl anymore and she won’t be going with you. That, my pretty daughter, you can bet your life on. You had your chance.”

  Jacinda’s turn, except she doesn’t have anything potent to say. So, she says, “We’ll just see about that, you fucking old bitch. Fuck you!” And stomps off into the shower of fire. It’s only rain, but it may as well be fire. Stab her, burn her, skin her—it wouldn’t matter. It’s not fair. All she wants is her own life. A life away from Ma’s control. A chance to raise her daughter and make choices for her. She has as much right as the next person.

  The urges, the yearning, the need all run Jacinda over. She needs something to put it out, to douse it, anything. Fuck! Just one hit would stroke the spot—just one. That’s all she needs. One time won’t hurt anything. And that’s it. Then she’ll be done for good. It’ll be enough to get her through this rough time, enough to quiet the beast.

  Aimless. Wander. Fog. Soaked through cold.

  Once may not be enough. She may need more and if that happens, she won’t take any after the second. But, she’s worked so hard. Once. Just one more time and then she’s done.

  She stops.

  Darla’s house sits right there. All she needs to do is ask. In fact, she probably won’t even have to do that. Just walk up to the door and knock. They’ll let her in, always have, always welcoming. Her chosen family.

  One step closer.

  She stops.

  Thirty-three days will go down the drain. Remember the pain, the longing, the sickness, the hunger, the cold, the fucking loneliness. She made a promise. But it ain’t no promise if it can’t be kept. Ma will never let her keep it. It’s Ma’s fault. She’s the reason for this. If Jacinda takes a step, it’s not because she wants to. It’s because Ma forced her to it. It’s not Jacinda’s fault.

  Not. My. Fault.

  The front door cracks open, the screen creaks; a blond mop pokes from behind. “JC?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Tuesday, November 17th

  I didn’t want to wake up this morning. Sleep felt too good. Better than drugs, not that I’d know, but I bet it was. Forgetting yesterday, the deep darkness that still looms in my heart, felt easier to do while asleep.

  Nightmares don’t stay with me like they do some people. They slip away when the sun rises. When I wake, only the residual feelings remain. By the time I stand, they are usually completely gone.

  But not today. Today my nightmare stays with me, most likely because I was awake when it happened. Awake when Jacinda decided to come back into my life and demand that I live with her. I’d always hoped she would come clean, that she’d want me and live with me, but I never dreamt she would drop a bomb like the one she did yesterday. She can’t do that. I won’t let her.

  I stopped by Rainy’s house on the way to school today because she hasn’t returned any of my texts or calls. She wasn’t home. No one was. Instead of waltzing into class late, I’ve opted to wait for the first half of the day to end by taking refuge in the cloak of the forest. I’ll get to class on time after lunch.

  Rainy discovered this place last year—behind the trees, with a clear view of the front of the school, yet hidden deep enough to not be seen. It stays dry from the rain, which dumps from the sky now. We carved out areas in the forest floor to plant our butts, filling it in with dried moss and grass for cushion—a perfect hide-out to cut a class or two. Not as perfect as the pit, but that is off limits now.

  A twig snaps behind me.

  “Hey biotch.” Rainy walks from deep in the forest toward me, soaked and wearing a thin hoody with the hood over her head and black skinny jeans. Wisps of blond hair stick to the sides of her face from the rain. “I thought I might find you here.”

  “Oh my God!” I jump up and run toward her, giving her a big bear hug. The best thing I’ve seen since the invention of the internet—better than fried chicken and chocolate combined. She showed up to save me from my own despair. My counselor, my guide, Rainy always knows the exact thing to say to pull me from the dark and back into the light—to the other side of the rainbow.

  She returns the hug harder and longer than I expect.

  “Where have you been?” I ask. “So much has happened this weekend and I need to tell you all of it.”

  The ground must be fascinating because her eyes don’t leave it. “Yeah. Tell me about it.” Her voice isn’t hers; it’s a tired person’s voice. She must have just got back from her grandmother’s or something. Maybe her parents made them spend the whole weekend there. Of course she came to see me first. I’m sure that once I tell her about Jacinda, she will snap out of it and be her spiteful self again.

  “Okay. So where do I start?” I sit back down in my rabbit hole. “Well, first, I’ll start with church. Angel totally started crying and she told me that she doesn’t do drugs.” I pause, waiting for her reaction, for the Rainy I know to bust out laughing or swearing or telling me how retarded I am for believing her enemy, Angel.

  She stands silent, shuffles her feet, and then sighs.

  “Okay, well, anyway. My mom showed up after church and asked me to lunch.”

  Still, nothing. Not a single peep. She doesn’t even look at me. Just stands there like, well, like a big dork-head that totally isn’t listening to me.

  Maybe she’s mad at me for hanging out with Angel or something. Rainy has never been mad at me enough to stop talking to me. She must just be tired.

  “Um, okay. So, my mom took me to lunch yesterday and she told me that I have to move to Montana with her. Can you believe it? Like, she thinks she can boss me around now and shit. Who the fuck does she think she is?”

  Nothing.

  Her total disregard gets under my skin. “I know, right? Yeah, I totally agree—I knew you would understand.”

  Silence.

 
“What the fuck Rainy? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

  She looks up from the ground, and down at me. Something fiercely sad lives behind those eyes, the eyes that once were my best friend’s. Once, they were filled with humor, ‘tude and strength. Now they are filled with dark secrets and sadness—hopelessness.

  Her jaw clenches, her fingers spasm like cat claws. “You know what?”

  I don’t answer.

  “This is going to be a big shock to you so I’m glad you’re sitting. I am so sick of listening to you. That’s all I ever do is listen to you whine and complain about how crappy things are for you!”

  “What?” I whisper. I’m not sure where that came from. From outer space, that’s where. From Mars or Venus or Pluto or whatever strange worlds that mean nothing to my existence. From out of nowhere.

  “You’ve got it so good, Autumn. So what if your mom’s a damn junkie? Get over it and move on.” She doesn’t yell. There is no malice to her words. They are just words with no meaning—emotionless. “Sure, your grandpa died. They do that, you know? Old people die but you still have your grandma. And guess what else? She loves you. And that’s more than I ever had.” She says these words out of cruelty. She can’t actually mean them.

  I stand and brush the dead leaves and dry moss from my jeans. “You’re just mad that I have a new friend. Boo hoo. What the hell did you expect? Did you think I was going to have only one friend for the rest of my life? I’m sorry that it was Angel who was there for me that weekend you got shipped away for fooling around with Ace and smoking pot. Actually, no, I’m not sorry. Angel’s turned out to be a totally cool friend. It’s too bad you can’t be nice to her. So don’t get pissy with me.”

  She sighs. “You haven’t even asked me how I am. It’s always about you, isn’t it?”

  Silence.

  “Aren’t you curious as to why I wasn’t at school yesterday? I mean, come on, have I missed a day of school since I got back?” Her voice shakes, the first sign of emotion since she got here.