Riley lay on her side, semi-fetal, still wearing the same sweatshirt, pajama pants, and sneakers she had on when her mother died. She didn’t remember sleep. At some point, staring at patches of moonlight had become staring at patches of sunlight. Aside from a supervised visit back home to collect a few belongings hours ago, she hadn’t moved from that spot. None of this felt real, this shelter, this place that wasn’t home. Again and again, she went over the layout of the house, walking through it in her mind.
Every piece of furniture called back memories, as did all the little figurines and random crap her mother had decorated the place with. Mina didn’t let her take anything like her Xbox or TV, just some clothes and toiletries. She glared at the shifting patches of sunlight; that was still her house. Being ‘escorted’ through it as if she no longer belonged there made her angry. She wanted her mother to show up and tell her it was all a bad dream. Even if Riley accepted she was gone, why couldn’t they let her sleep in her own room, in a house that still smelled like Mom?
How can I steal my own stuff?
Frantic, high-pitched shrieks broke through distant murmuring in the outside hallway.
“He’s gonna find me. He’s gonna kick in the door, and find me, and he’s gonna kill me. He’s gonna kill me, and you, and Sadie, and everyone.”
A child’s wailing followed.
Riley shivered. This isn’t happening. I’m not in this crazy place. Mom… please get me out of here. Please don’t let them keep me here.
“Calm down, ma’am,” said a husky voice, also female. “He ain’t going to find you.”
“You don’t know Boyd. You don’t know what he’s capable of. You fu―”
“Ma’am. Please calm down. You’re not being detained. You’re free to leave at any time, but you’re as safe as you can get here. He can’t get to you if you stay with us.”
Figures moved by the door: a big woman, a skinny woman, and a sniveling three-year-old girl. The door to the next room opened and closed, muted voices murmured through the cinderblocks behind her. Riley debated the odds of a psycho ex rampaging through the shelter and picking her room by accident. The place went from feeling like a prison to feeling like a death trap. Am I ever gonna see my home again? They can’t just take all Mom’s things away, can they?
The conversation next door stopped. A few seconds later, a soft triple-knock invaded her cocoon of spaced-out silence.
“Hey there,” said the deeper feminine voice. “You’re new here, aren’t ya? Name’s LaToya. You let me know if you need anything, ‘kay? You hungry?”
“No,” muttered Riley.
“Did you sleep?”
“No.”
“Would you like to get cleaned up? Have a shower or something?”
“No.”
The door creaked. Riley shifted enough to look at a more-than-six-foot tall woman in medical scrubs. The pants were teal, but an explosion of color spread over the smock with little regard for the lines of a scene of palm trees and tall birds. Short dreads sprouted from a fist-sized polished wooden ring at the back of her head, making it resemble a humanized pineapple sitting atop massive shoulders. Riley stifled a gulp, a measure less afraid of any and all enraged exes.
She’d kill him.
“What’s wrong, dear? Can I get you anything?”
Riley slid back on the bed. “I wanna go home.”
“Child, you know we can’t leave you alone in a house all by yourself.”
As opposed to being alone with someone else? Riley made a face. “I’m fourteen. I can handle it. Mom trusted me alone. I’ve been home alone after school since, like, forever.”
A loud metal crash outside preceded the sound of a different screaming child, and several sets of running footsteps.
“You ain’t ready to handle a job yet. Rent payments, taxes, driving…”
Her mother’s voice floated through her memory. Next summer she’d have to get a job. She flung herself over and stuffed her face in the pillow to hide tears.
After a few sniffles, she yelled, “I hate it here.”
“You’re one of the lucky ones, child.”
Riley pushed herself over on her side and glared. “How the hell am I lucky?”
LaToya’s placid smile showed no dents from the angry scowl directed her way. “It’s horrible what happened to your momma, but you stills got a dad to take care of you. Most of the little ones who come through here ain’t got even that.”
“My dad?” She sat up. “He doesn’t want me. He left us. I wanna go home.”
“You want things to be like they were before. Going back to that house might let you think everything’s the same, but it won’t be.”
Riley wiped her face.
“You need to eat and get cleaned up. Imma give you a pass on lunch, but if I hear you skipped dinner, I’m gonna drag you to the cafeteria and feed you like a baby.”
The threat would’ve been terrifying if not for the huge grin on the woman’s face.
“‘Kay.”
“You need anything, you find me and ask, okay?”
Riley nodded.
LaToya walked to the door. “Remember… you eatin’ dinner later.”
“‘Kay.”
She collapsed onto the mattress on her side, daydreaming about her mother’s last meal. How long before I forget what her voice sounded like? For at least an hour, she lay there drifting in and out of periods of crying and staring off into space. An attack of sniffles stopped at a chirp from the bag on the floor. A little rummaging unearthed her iPhone, showing a series of texts from Amber:
BRB = few mins.
Rile? Wtf. Where are you?
Guess you got reamed for being up too late. Txt me.
Rile? Hello? Text me, k?
Going offline, on plane.
Back. WTF x 3.
Riley McCullough… Mexico calling Riley.
She stared through her reflection at the blue bubbles of text. Her best (only) friend was probably sitting on a beach in Puerto Vallarta, possibly enjoying her ‘graduation present.’ She teased at the keypad with a thumb, battling between her need to let everything out and not wanting to ruin Amber’s trip. Better to drop a bomb like that in person.
She typed: I’m okay. Mom went to hospital. Sry for leavin you hang. Talk when u back.
No sooner had she put the phone on the little nightstand than a reply came in.
Hospital wtfomg. Ur mom ok?
Teardrops splattered on the screen, magnifying the text into red, blue, and green spots. Her hands shook as she forced herself to reply.
Will talk when ur back in Jerz. Have fun in Mex.
The phone beeped a few seconds later. BS. U like don’t go to Mex now u say have fun.
Don’t waste ur trip worrying 4 me. I’ll explain all when you come back. How is the food?
Riley couldn’t stop crying as the texts bounced back and forth for at least twenty minutes, as though nothing at all had happened.
G2G, dad raging @ me for texting since I do it @ home. Txt if u wana talk.
“Later,” Riley spoke and typed at the same time.
She curled up around the phone for a while, watching the waving shadows of trees fade with the onset of evening. A touch past 5:30 p.m., Mina poked her head in.
“Oh, Riley…” She walked in, clucking her tongue. “You’re still in the same clothes.”
“Oh, hey, your eyes work.”
“Come on, get up. You’re taking a shower and going straight to the café. Toya told me you skipped lunch.”
“You’re not my mother.”
Mina folded her arms. “You’re right, young lady, I’m not. You’re skin and bones. Would your mother want you starving yourself?”
Riley cringed. “How long do I have to stay here? Can I shower at home?”
“Maybe when your Dad gets here… I assume he’ll want to take you there instead of a hotel.”
No way! She shot upright. “You found him? W-what did he say? Wait, ‘gets h
ere?’ He’s coming?”
“It will take him a while because he’s driving.” Mina sat on the end of the bed. “He’s worried about you. I… told him you weren’t coping too well.”
“How am I supposed to ‘cope’ with my mother dropping dead in front of me?” Riley felt her face scrunching in preparation for another bout of sobbing, and tried to resist it.
Mina threw an arm around her. “I’d be worried if a kid your age coped ‘well’ with news like that. Anyone, really. Your reactions are perfectly natural given the situation. Don’t bottle things up.”
This woman is obsessed with rubbing my back. She frowned at the white iPhone 4 on the nightstand. “I wanted to tell Amber, but I didn’t.”
“Who’s that?”
“Friend.”
“I see. Why didn’t you tell her?”
Riley shrugged. “She’s in Mexico. Parents took her on vacation for graduation. I didn’t wanna ruin it. Besides, it didn’t feel right to text that my mother―” She swallowed the word ‘died,’ unable to spit it out without bursting into tears.
Mina patted her on the back again. “That was very mature of you to think of her like that.”
“I don’t have a lot of friends… at least not ones I’ve met for real.”
“Sometimes I worry about our society. Everyone’s online all the time these days. No human contact. What about at school?”
“Everyone there thinks I’m anorexic or bulimic ‘cause I’m so thin.” Riley fidgeted. “I’m not. I got tired of being picked on, so I ignore everyone. Not my fault.”
Mina failed to conceal a pained expression. “I got teased in school too.”
Not gonna say it. “Sorry.”
“I’d always been a little heavy.” Her knuckles whitened around her knees. “Diets never worked, exercise never helped. This is just who I am. It took me a very long time to come to terms with that.” Mina bit her lip. “My own father used to call me Miss Piggy.”
Riley gasped.
“Oh”―Mina waved dismissively―“he wasn’t trying to be mean about it… he thought I looked like the puppet. He didn’t know how it felt, and I never told him.”
“I’m sorry. People at school call me Anna.”
Mina looked puzzled.
“Rexia. Anna Rexia.” Riley scowled at the floor. “I’m not. Really. I swear.”
“I believe you.” Mina patted her back again. “I stopped giving them power over me. Took me too long to convince myself that the only opinion that mattered was mine.”
“Yeah… screw what they think.”
“You’ll be okay, kid… I got a feeling you’re tough inside.”
Riley looked up. “So… You really found my dad? He wants me?”
“Yep.” Mina grinned. “I got in touch with your mother’s attorney, he had the contact information.”
“What?” Riley blinked. “Mom knew where he was this whole time? She said she had no idea.”
“Well, that could be true. His ‘contact information’ was an email address… that doesn’t mean she knew where he was.”
“Why did he leave?” Riley bit her lip.
Mina’s eyes widened and rolled as she pursed her lips. “That’s something for you to ask him. I honestly don’t know. However, I do know that he is very keen on having you back. He asked me to make sure you understood he never stopped loving you. The man got himself so worked up to get out here, he hung up on me before I could ask him if he wanted to talk to you. You know, I think the man ran right out his door.”
“I was eight. He didn’t come home from work one day. Mom was all normal and stuff until I asked why Dad wasn’t home yet, and then she cried. She said was I was too little to understand. The best answer I ever got was they decided it was in everyone’s best interest to separate.”
“Not every marriage works out. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him about that. It’s really not my place to speculate what happened.”
He wants me? She bit her knuckle and sniffled.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t know… I thought he hated us.”
“Okay, enough negativity.” Mina tucked a finger under Riley’s chin and lifted her gaze off the floor. “Grab clean clothes and I’ll show you where you can take a shower. After that, you are eating dinner. Toya isn’t kidding. She will strap you to a chair and spoon-feed you if she has to.”
Riley slid to the edge of the bed, kicked off her sneakers, peeled off her socks, and stood. Dad’s coming for me. Dark orange light shimmered through the tiny, prison-like window. I’m getting out of here. She shrugged off the sweatshirt and threw it in a ball to the ground next to the bag. After pulling a clean set of clothes out of the small suitcase she’d brought from home, she managed an almost-smile at Mina.
“Thanks for finding him.”
“You’re welcome.” Mina draped a metal bead chain over Riley’s head like a necklace, with a key on it. “This is for your room. Lock your door on the way out.”
She crept out after Mina. The smell of turkey and mashed potatoes flooded the corridor. The dormitory area seemed quiet at this hour, most likely because everyone was already eating. After stooping to lock the door without taking the key off, she followed Mina to the bathroom at the end of the row. She’d been terrified the showers were public, but breathed a sigh of relief at finding private rooms.
“Need anything?”
“Uhm, towels?”
“Inside on the shelf.” Mina gestured at the door. “Put them in the bin in the corner when you’re done.”
Riley slipped inside and locked the door. The plain bathroom area looked like something you’d find in a hotel, complete with a stack of tiny one-use soap bars and shampoo bottles. She felt vulnerable enough being in a strange environment without her mother; the idea of taking a shower here felt wrong… as if to do so would accept that the house she grew up in was no longer her home.
After a few minutes of staring at her toes, she pushed her pajama pants off. The soft, red fabric gathered atop her feet. She scowled at the grinning bears, and kicked them across the room. Her PJ pants hit the wall and snagged on a hook. The sight of them dangling and the thought of how angry she must look brought an unexpected chuckle, though her mirth was short-lived. With a sigh, she shed the rest of her clothes and stepped into the tub, trying not to pay attention to the sobbing woman on the other side of the wall.
One thought kept her going.
I’m not an orphan.
resses had never been high on Riley’s list. It’s not that she disliked them; in the summer, she was more of a shorts and flip-flops girl. Special occasions, and Mom, had sometimes demanded them. Since this unwelcome special occasion was all about Mom, she decided to wear one without protest because it’s what her mother would have asked her to do. Another trip to the house, again ‘under guard,’ led to the realization she had no dresses suitable for a funeral. The blue one she’d worn for graduation was too cheerful, and it made her think of her mother’s smile too much.
In Mom’s closet, she had found a plain black dress that fit, albeit the way a sleeping bag fits a broom. Mom probably wore it to some boring office party at the bank the last time it saw the light of day. Mina helped with a couple of safety pins in spots she couldn’t reach and got the dress to a point where it looked reasonable.
Riley occupied the center of the front row of folding chairs in a dim, burgundy room at Samuels Funeral Home, the only person present aside from Mina. Two floral arrangements flanked a white casket. One bore a card signed by the people who worked at the bank branch Mom managed. The other one was from Mina, who lurked by the door out of respect for the family.
What family? Riley frowned at her kitten heels. It’s just me and Mom. Aunt Bea won’t show up. Guess I know what the B stands for. Mother’s old joke sent a lone tear sliding down her cheek.
For over an hour and a half, she sat alone, clutching a tiny purse in her lap and staring at her mother’s body. The mortician had
brought the color of life to her face, but Mom looked as though she were made of wax. She seemed more alive at the hospital. The wig wasn’t too awful, though the body lying in the casket didn’t look like Mom anymore. Long, straight sand-brown hair gave her the appearance of a forty-year-old, taller, thicker version of Riley. A dark-brown pixie cut had been the norm for at least four years, but she couldn’t find a decent photo to give them.
When she was in sixth grade, one of the tellers had passed away and Mom brought her along to the wake. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. Now, she didn’t want to leave this room.
Bustle by the door preceded an older couple walking over to the casket. They paid their respects and paused by her chair on their way past.
“We’re so sorry about your Mother, dear,” said the woman. “We worked together for ten years. So tragic.”
“So young.” Her apparent husband bobbed his head, looking much like she must’ve looked at the teller’s wake… eager to skip out as fast as possible.
“Thank you,” said Riley.
A few minutes later, a disheveled man about twenty stumbled over to the casket in a t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, and a jacket that belonged to a dress suit. He blinked at the body and wiped his face with one hand, sniffling.
“Whoa… Damn, missus M. That sucks.” He fumbled around as if not sure what to do, knelt on the padded bench and bumbled his way through a few minutes of prayer. He made eye contact with Riley as he stood to leave. “Oh, hi. I’m Scott.” He sniffled again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I work at the bank. You’re the kid, right? She’s got your pic on her desk.” He fidgeted and hurried away, as if expecting her dead mother to lunge up and grab him. “Uh, sorry.”
She watched him walk to the front door, hesitate, and circle back to a seat in the last row.
Another old man stopped by, wan and rickety. He flashed a dour, disapproving expression at Riley before aiming it at Mom. He grumbled as he ambled over to the casket and took a knee, making the sign of the cross as he continued to mumble too low to hear. The longer he muttered, the less Riley cared for him. By the time he’d finished whatever he’d wanted to say and braced a shaking arm on the coffin to stand, her glance had become a glare. He whirled about and toddled right up to her. It appeared to take great effort on his part to present a neutral mood.
The Summer the World Ended Page 3