by E. J. McCay
Misty pops out of the chair and flashes him a nasty look. “You mark my word, Uriah Pendleton, Lilly is nothing but trouble and trash.” She flings her purse over her shoulder and prances out like she’s too good to have ever been in there in the first place.
“You all right?” he asks as he sits back down.
I shrug and wipe my eyes. “She’s right. I am trash.”
“No, not to me.”
“I wish you’d leave me alone.”
“You missed me when I did.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. I did miss him. I missed his smile and his sweetness and his everything. Uriah’s hair has even grown out enough it’s curling over his ears and it’s floppy on his forehead. Just like in school. Just like I like.
“I don’t want to. I don’t want to miss you. I don’t want to even like you as a friend. I’m not good enough for you.” I swipe a tear that escapes my eye. It’s my turn to run out of the Kettlefish. “Don’t follow me. I need to think,” I say and run out of the bar. Uriah says something, but I’m already gone.
Out of the bar, I take off for the cabin. I run and I run and I run. I find the road leading to the tree and take it just in case Uriah has decided to follow me. I need away from him and this town and all this thinking. I feel like I’m a piece of paper being crumpled in someone’s hand.
By the time I run all the way to the tree, my lungs are burning and I can’t catch my breath. I put my hand on the rough bark of the tree and bend over, breathing hard. My hair is sticking to my head because of the sweat, and my clothes feel gross. I look at the stream. The water looks cool and I just run and jump. Just a split second decision and the water is covering my head and rolling around me. The current is faster than I’d anticipated too.
I push with all my might and when my face breaks the surface I take a deep breath. The water is carrying me downstream and I paddle fast to make it to shore. I pull myself up and drop on the ground. I’m exhausted. I’ve run I don’t know how many miles and then taken a dip. My own mini ironman. I laugh as I lie there.
The sun beats down on me and it feels so good to just lie on the ground. I’m alone for all of two seconds.
Papa.
“What do you want?”
A soft breeze tickles my skin. The water has chilled me and I shiver a little.
“I don’t want to talk right now.”
Papa says, “We need to talk.”
“You talk and I’ll listen. How’s that for a change?”
I flop onto my back and look at the sky. White puffy clouds are sailing by in the shapes of all sorts of things. I concentrate on one that looks like a poodle.
Papa speaks softly. “Oh, my Lilly of the Valley. My sweet, sweet girl. Do you really think you’re trash?”
I stay quiet.
“You are so beyond loved. I love you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. I love when you aren’t lovable or even likable. I love you so far and so deep and so wide you cannot fathom the depth of my love for you.”
“Then why let all these bad things happen to me?” I curl into a ball and the tears pour. It’s an ugly cry and I’m glad I’m alone.
I feel Him wrap His arms around me. I don’t want His comfort or at least I don’t think I want it. I want to hurt like the trash I am. I want to be ugly and disgusting and broken and angry and bitter. I want to be trash because it’s easier to believe I’m trash than it is to believe I’m loved.
“Why haven’t we ever talked like this before? Why now?”
“You never stopped running long enough to have a talk.”
“But we’ve talked before.”
“Superficially. The way you would with an acquaintance. I want to be more than just a passing friend. I want to be your Savior. The lover of your heart. I want you to know me so well you see yourself the way I see you. I want you to know me so well that when you look in the mirror you see what I see. A creation so wonderfully made and so wonderfully loved all your cracks fade and all you see is me in you.”
“I don’t know if I can, Papa, I don’t know if I can. How do you fix someone that doesn’t know how to let anyone fix them?”
“Don’t worry about the being fixed.”
“How? How can I not worry? Don’t you expect me to be better soon?”
“Things that change quickly never stay changed. All I need is a willingness to change. A heart and ears willing to hear.”
“I won’t always, you know. I’m stubborn and mean…”
“Stop. Stop telling me what you think you are and listen to what I know you are. You belong to me. You are mine. Give me you, and let me do the fixing.”
“Okay, Papa, I will try. That’s all I’ve got, is try.”
“We’ll start with try.”
I feel Papa smile in my heart. I feel His arms around me. I feel a comfort I haven’t felt in years. I know I’m still broken. I know my pieces are still jagged. I know I’ll still hurt before He’s finished, but I know He loves me. I’ll just have to remember that in the future which may not be as easy as it is right now.
“You’ll have to remind me,” I say and yawn.
“I’ll remind you, sweet Lilly. Don’t think I won’t.”
I can’t keep my eyes open. The day has taken all my energy and I just can’t move.
Chapter Twenty One
It’s dark when I wake up. I sit up and look around. The moon is covered by the billowy clouds I’d seen earlier. I don’t know what time it is, where I am, or how to get home. Momentarily, I’m panicked. I haven’t been in these woods since I was little.
I try to remember what things looked like when I pulled myself up on the shore. Was the tree over there? I think really hard. No, it wasn’t. I’d floated downstream. I don’t even know how far either.
I stand and try to get my bearings. I’m as lost as Superman in a warehouse full of telephone booths. What do I do now?
Walk. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to walk away from the stream and keep it to my back. I’m going to walk in a straight line and I’ll get to the edge of the road and I’ll be fine.
My plan starts to fall apart after a while. It makes me wish I’d been using my cell phone. I hadn’t used it since I got to town. No point, really. The only people with the number were in Austin and they knew I needed time. What’s the point of a cellphone if no one is calling you? Only, the point is crystal clear now that I’m lost in the woods without one.
I stop walking after my feet are burning. My endurance level is pretty high so I know I’ve been walking for a while when I find a tree and sit with my back against it. The thought hits me that I’m in the woods and there are all kinds of creepy crawlies living here.
There’s nothing I can do about my current situation so I lean my head back against the tree and watch the sky. The clouds are broken so the moon shines through here and there. The wind picks up and I can taste the dirt in my mouth. The ground is still moist from all the rain we’ve been getting.
I wish I’d brought a jacket, but it was too hot when I left the house this morning. The wind picks up again and the trees shimmy. It’s cold. You’d think by the end of May it’d be livable at night, but, again, it’s Texas. Nothing about the weather in Texas makes any sense to me.
The next time the wind blows, I take a deep breath. The air is chilly, but it feels so good in my lungs. I love when the air has a sharpness to it. I don’t necessarily want to stay in it, but I do love it.
The woods are singing, and I relax enough I drift off to sleep again.
My morning is tinged grey when I wake up, on my side, mouth in the dirt. I spit and sputter as I push off the ground. Stretching, I take in my surroundings and I’m still lost. I can hear the stream, but I can’t tell which direction the noise is coming from.
I’m hungry too. I didn’t eat anything the day before, and that soda is long gone. My mouth is dry and I smack it trying to get the juices flowing. There’s no point in sitting here all day so I pu
sh off and start walking again.
I walk and I walk and I walk. When I sit the next time, the sun is high in the sky and I can feel the burn in my cheeks. The exertion is getting to me. I’ve had no food or water for a good twenty-four hours. I can’t hear the stream either. Maybe I should have turned around, but by the time I realized that it was too late and I didn’t know where to turn.
My butt starts hurting so I figure it’s time to start walking again. This time I’m less motivated to get anywhere.
Of course, that’s when Uriah Pendleton comes to mind. I’ve known him since I can remember. The first time I saw him, I was in first grade. He was playing with Bo, Misty, and Jenny. I didn’t fit in much. My parents being older I was used to being around older people.
I can speak granny, but I can’t speak the language of people my age. I was always the outsider. I know Uriah thinks I wasn’t, but he doesn’t remember it right. The fringe is where I lived. Just on the outside of everything great.
How Bo and I became best friends, I don’t know. One day we just became friends. I went over to his house and he had matchbox cars and fire trucks and that was it. He had fun toys and he was now my friend. We’d played Batman and Robin, built indoor forts, and watched reruns of Mork and Mindy.
Oh how I loved days he came over to play. Then I realize, he never came to my house to play. Never. Not once. I would play at his house and we would have fun, but when I’d ask if he could come over his momma would say no.
That thought brings me to a dead stop.
His momma and daddy think I’m trash, too. Is a preacher supposed to think someone is trash? I shrug. Why not? They’re people too. They can have likes, dislikes, and opinions just like the rest of us. I’m not mad at the realization. I’m not even hurt. Why, if Bo had been my baby I may not have let him play with me either.
I remember one time, at Bo’s house, his momma caught him wrestling with me. We were maybe thirteen or fourteen. She snatched him up by the ear and pulled him out of the room. I couldn’t hear what was being said through the door, but I could certainly hear the anger in his momma’s voice. After that, our time was spent at school, youth group or with a crowd. I was never allowed back at his house again.
That Texas sun is draining me dry so I start walking again. The lack of food and water take their toll on me and the further I walk the more tired I get. I smell rain as the wind picks up, and it has teeth this time.
When the sun starts disappearing, I look up to find dark clouds have yet again rolled into town. The rain starts quick. One minute it’s dry and the next I can barely see in front of me. There’s no shelter to be seen so I just keep walking the best I can.
Stupid me. That’s right, I’m stupid. I should have sat my butt down the moment the rain started because I don’t go six steps and I trip over something and hear a pop. When I try to stand my ankle gives out and it’s throbbing.
Now, I’m lost, wet, cold, and hurt. It’s also dark, and I’m tired. I lie on the wet ground getting beat by hard rain, and I wonder if anyone misses me.
I hope Uriah or Bo does. I hope they miss me enough to look for me. Then my doubts and fears start plaguing my mind. I told Uriah to leave me alone. I told Bo he deserved better too. They both deserve better than me. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be wanted anyway. It just means I’m aware that I am no good. Not to them. Not to anyone. I’m not gonna cry this time. There’s no point. If I die in the woods, Uriah and Bo both can move on and find someone worthy of their affection.
Papa, if I’m supposed to die out here, please let them know I cared. I truly cared. I know I was sassy and I had a mouth, but I did care. It’s why I said they deserve better. It’s why I keep pushing them away. I’m okay with dying, Papa. I’m not mad at anyone either.
I talk to Papa until I simply can’t keep my eyes open anymore.
Chapter Twenty Two
I know when I wake up, I’m not out in the woods or in my cabin because whatever I’m lying on is soft, clean and smells like lilacs. I’m warm too which is why I know I’m most definitely not in the woods. I see Uriah’s face and I realize I’m at his house.
Then I gather my wits and things seem a little clearer. My throat hurts, and when I breathe it feels like fire racing down into my lungs. I move and it gets Uriah’s attention. He’s gathering me in his arms, holding me so tight I wonder if he’s trying to suffocate me.
I pat him on the back, and say, “It’s okay. I’m okay.” It comes out like a hoarse frog croak.
“Oh, my Lilly,” he says, “you have any idea how worried I was?” It comes out as broken sobs as his lips move against my ear.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not because I want to, but because it’s the best I can do.
He keeps me in his bear hug. Almost like he’s afraid if he lets go I’ll disappear. “You were gone two days. It took me and Bo and several others in the town to find you. Bo’s already talked to Judge Kringle.”
“How much trouble am I in?”
“You’re not. Chrissy stood up for you. That was before we realized you were lost. Once we figured it out, Judge Kringle was a real softy.”
“How did you know I was lost?”
“I had a feeling. I just knew you wouldn’t run like that. I knew you were troubled that day when you left Kettlefish. I came by the cabin later that day, and you were nowhere to be found.”
“But how did you know where to look?”
He lets me go, resting me back on the bed, and palms the side of my face. The way he’s looking at me, all worried and sweetness, almost like he can’t believe I’m there, makes me feel gooey. “I came back to the cabin the next day and you were still gone, and as I was driving back to town I saw the little road off to the side. I got out and followed it. I walked until I got to the stream. I just knew you’d jumped in the stream. I went back to town, got Bo, told Fancy and people came out to help. Fancy’s the one who found you.”
“What day is it and where am I?”
“It’s Saturday and you are at my house. Even as tore up as you were, you were fighting when they started talking about taking you to the hospital. So, I offered to let you stay here. Doc Stevens came here. He said your ankle is going to be okay. It was pretty swollen when we found you. You were ice cold too.”
For a moment, I stiffen. I’m in Mrs. Pendleton’s house. If she thinks I’m trash too, then I don’t want to be in her house. It doesn’t make me mad to think that way, just makes me want to not disrespect her and keep my landfill out of her house.
“Lilly, my momma likes you. Always has. You are welcome here, now and anytime.”
I didn’t have to say anything for Uriah to know exactly where my mind was going and what I needed to hear from him. I think to myself, what if he knew all my wickedness? How much better would his comfort be?
Then I think of Papa. That’s how He knows to comfort me. He already knows all my blackness. The darkness that bleeds out the edges with hands that seem to latch onto the people around me. He still loves me. Still wants me.
“You sure?” I ask.
“I’m sure,” Mrs. Pendleton is leaning against the door frame. She’s got one hand on her hip and a hand to her throat, playing with the pendant on the necklace that’s around her neck. “I’ll let you know if something’s bothering me, sugar.”
I look at her. She’s a tall, thin woman. Her face has wrinkles in all the right places and tell a story of a happy woman. She smiles and I know I’ve read it right. The brightness I see in Uriah, I see in her. She loves the way he loves. That’s where he got it from.
“I don’t have any better words than thank you.”
“I don’t need any better words than thank you. You hungry?”
My tummy does the salsa, a few backflips and then growls like a rabid dog.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says smiling, pushes off the door and walks away.
Uriah continues to sit on the bed next to me. “She’s going to make biscuits and gravy.”
>
“Mmmmmm…” But, honestly, left over toe jam would taste good about right now, I think to myself.
“You know how to cook biscuits and gravy?”
“I think I’m the only woman in the world that’s managed to burn water.”
He chuckles. “That is not music to a man’s ear.”
“Then perhaps that man would be better off skipping to the next song.”
“Perhaps that man should be happy with the song he’s got because he’s listening to a song he loves.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You talk like this to girls when we were in school?”
“I had eyes for one girl, but she was always occupied with someone else.”
“Your eyes must not have been real focused. You sure you don’t need glasses?”
“I can see just fine.”
I’m too tired for all this dancing and crap. The sigh that escapes my lips describes my level of tired without me even speaking.
“I need to let you rest,” he says and moves like he’s going to stand.
I put my hand on his arm. “Uriah, please don’t go.”
He stops in his tracks. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”
The way he looks at me makes me wish with all that’s in me I wasn’t so broken. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel good enough for him and I don’t know if I can love him the way he should be loved. I don’t ever remember experiencing anything like this because there’s nothing in this world I’ve wanted more in my life than Uriah Pendleton. It makes me hurt so deep and so pure I can’t keep myself from crying.
Uriah thinks I’m crying because I was lost in the woods. His face gets this serene look on it, and he picks up my hand. “It’s okay, Lills. You’ve been through a lot.” He wipes my tears, leans down, and kisses my forehead. I know Uriah enough to know it’s nothing but kindness. “You got nothing to worry about here. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up when momma is done with dinner.”
Between my heart, Uriah, and the exhaustion I’m fighting I can’t seem to find peace. The last time me and Papa talked, I felt pretty good. I thought for sure it would stick, but I’m feeling like wax paper and all His talking just sliding off into the waste bin. I close my eyes and start counting, hoping it will put me to sleep. Things get really fuzzy when I hit about forty-two.