“What happened?”
“I told you I fell.”
“Bull.”
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well I do. It looks like you’ve been fighting. Did you get into a fight at school yesterday?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s bull too.”
“How do you know? You weren’t there.”
“Because you are a terrible liar Jake Nichols. And I know you. You hate fighting. And you never look me in the eyes when you lie.”
He looked up then, finding my eyes. “I guess I can’t lie to you.” He shrugged.
“Then tell me what happened.”
“When I got home yesterday, my dad was drunk. A real bender this time. He had all the pictures of mom out and was rambling on about Christmas. Then he decided that he was going to make it the best Christmas ever to make up for my mom taking off. So he stumbles off to the bedroom and I figure he would just pass out and sleep it off. So I came here to work my dinner shift. When I got home, he was still drunk, possibly even more so and was in a rage that I had hidden the keys from him.”
My heart sunk and my stomach turned.
“Anyway, he went off that I had hidden the keys and demanded to know where they were. The next thing I know, he’s in a flashback and coming after me. I managed to fend off most of it because he was so drunk, but he managed to get a few in,” he said, touching his eyebrow. “It looks worse than it is, trust me.”
“Oh, Jake. I’m so sorry—”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, but it is. See, I hid the keys. Your father went out earlier in the day and I could tell he had been drinking. He left the keys in the ignition and I was worried he’d drive drunk again. So I tossed them under the seat. I’m sure they’re still there. I’m so sorry, Jake.”
I reached across the table and took his hand. He tensed, began to pull away and then relaxed.
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, it is. I should have been there when you got home and told you where I put them. I completely forgot.”
There was a long, tense, and for the first time, uncomfortable silence.
“I just never wanted you to know,” he said finally, with a sigh. He still looked ashamed, looking everywhere but at me.
“I’ve always known, Jake.” It’s true. I knew about this and every other time. And it broke my heart.
His jaw was set, he gave a tight nod and he looked like he wanted to get up and run away. I didn’t want to keep talking about it and risk him doing just that.
“So how was your first day?” he asked.
“It was alright. A little overwhelming. I’ll get used to it.”
“How did your mom react when you told her you had a job?” He looked up then with a small, sarcastic smile.
“Well, she started her wish list with a new TV.” I sighed.
“Why doesn’t she get a job?”
I gave a short, hard laugh. “Right. Why work for what you can get for free.” I pulled my knee up to my chest and slipped my shoe off. “This job isn’t easy on the feet.”
“You need to get some good shoes. Like the nurses shoes. That’ll help.” He began to gather up his things. “C’mon. We better get home.”
“Are you okay to go home?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s in apology mode now. He feels terrible, he really does. Blames the war. Blames the booze, blames himself because this is why mom took off. Swears it’ll never happen again. This is where he goes into deep reflective mode, starts up at the V.A. with counseling again…it’ll be okay for a while now.” He slipped his coat on and held his hand out for me. I still sat in the booth, sensing and hating the distance between us, now that he knew I knew his secret.
He smirked. “Are you okay to go home? You know she’s going to be all over your for your tip money.”
I laughed. “I already thought of that.” I stood, took out my tips and put half in my back pocket. “I’ll only show her this.”
We left the diner with a shout to Hank and walked home with the small diffidence of knowing wedged between us.
Chapter 5
A couple of weeks passed and I became more proficient at work. My mother became a little easier to live with since I gave her half of the tips I didn’t hide when I got home from work. She always smiled, thanked me and called me Meggy a few times, saying she was saving it up, but every night she made some excuse why she had to spend it and needed more. I didn’t care about that so much as I cared about what was going on with Jake.
His bruises had faded but something distant remained. I decided that tonight after school, I would get it out of him and get it behind us. I made small talk at the bus stop and noticed the new kid that snubbed us was inching ever closer to us each morning.
“Think he’s figured it out yet?”
“Yeah. I heard some guys giving him a hard time at school last week. He just has to decide if he wants to go this alone, or make friends with us. Because once he does, there is no going back. He’s one of us forever.” He looked over at Sam, nodded and whispered to me, “He’ll figure it out.”
That day at lunch he apparently did figure it out. He tentatively approached our table. The only seat open was next to me since Suzie Q had become a permanent fixture at Jake’s side. Her crush was obvious and embarrassing.
“Have a seat,” Jake said before Sam could ask to be included. He slid into the seat next to me.
“Thanks,” he said. He bent his head to eat.
“So, where have you been?” I asked. “We see you at the bus stop but haven’t seen you at lunch.”
“I’ve been in the library mainly.”
“Didn’t fit in there either?” Jake asked. He didn’t say it to be mean. Just acknowledging the facts.
“Don’t fit in anywhere, apparently,” Sam said, staring at his food.
“Well, welcome to the club. So, what’s your story?”
“Story?” Sam looked confused.
“We all have a story. Those guys down there—” He pointed to two guys and one girl at the end of the long table that never talked to us. “They sit here so they don’t have to sit alone. They don’t talk much. Suzie here isn’t rich, but isn’t poor either. She doesn’t really fit in anywhere either, but she’s good company.” Suzie beamed at his mentioning her name. “Me and Meg have done the whole high school hell thing together and live close in the trailer park.”
I waited for him to go on that we were inseparable best friends, but he left it there.
Sam looked uncomfortable. “Well, we moved in after my dad lost his job. We hung on for a while until the unemployment ran out. My mom’s been trying to find a job too, but she hasn’t worked in years. We ran out of savings and ended up, well, across the tracks.”
This guy’s pain was visible and I wondered if it wasn’t the first time he had admitted all of that out loud.
“We moved here six years ago,” Jake offered. “My dad was in the Gulf War and got his left knee injured. He was able to stay in and finish his four years but when he got out it was hard to find a job and he got depressed. We went from army housing to an apartment. He started having a hard time dealing with stuff. All the typical war vet stuff, you know, nightmares, drinking and flashbacks. My mom couldn’t take it after a while and took off. After that, we moved to the trailer park because that’s the only rent his disability check would cover.”
The whole table was silent at how easily he shared. He wasn’t embarrassed, it was just his life.
“Oh, Jake!” Suzie Q leaned over and put her small hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry! I never knew your father was a veteran. And your mother! How could she just leave you like that?” She stared at him with adoring pity that made me hiss.
Sam looked at me, as if it were my turn.
“My mom’s disabled. She has this debilitating allergy to work. We moved in after her last divorce.”
That’s it. I wasn’t sharing more with this jerk who
snubbed me a few weeks ago while Suzie Q nudged ever closer to Jake, oozing sympathy.
I stared at her. Your turn pop tart.
She looked around nervously for a moment. “We live in an apartment close to the tracks. Been there for as long as I can remember. My mom works as a nurse aide and my dad works at the car wash. They keep the bills paid but since they never got to college, we can’t seem to get ahead. They save a little money and the car breaks down. Or someone gets sick. I think they have given up. They are just going to go through the motions every day until they can’t anymore. My dad said it’s just too hard to keep fighting. Poverty has a stranglehold on us and won’t let go.” She shrugged, continuing on with her sweet, high pitched little girl voice. “My mom does her best to keep his spirits up. They are very much in love still, despite all the hard times they’ve been through.” With that, she turned and bat her eyes at Jake.
Oh, vomit. Suddenly I hated the little group our table had become and desperately wished it could go back to just Jake and I.
“I’m done,” I said and stood with my tray, expecting Jake to follow suit. We always walked around and talked after lunch if there was time. Feeling my eyes on him, Jake nodded at me.
“I’ll catch up.”
♥
He sat next to me on bus that afternoon and nudged my leg. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” I said, still staring out the window. “How was the rest of lunch?”
I tried to control the venom in my voice.
“Fine. Sam’s an okay guy. Just finding his bearings, I think. Suzie was asking if we wanted to do something this weekend.”
“Since when do we do stuff on the weekend?”
“Well, we don’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t.”
“I think I work.”
“You don’t. Not on Saturday night. I checked.”
He checked. I breathed a small sigh of relief. He wants to include me. I began to get irritated at my own stupid insecurities. He was still my best friend. He wasn’t going to dump me for some new kid and some blonde misfit.
“We’ll have to see what she wants to do first.” Since it was Thursday, that gave me two day to figure a way out of it. “She’s so annoying.”
“Why? I think she’s nice.”
I turned away again, insecurity swallowing me whole. “Looks like she thinks you’re nice, too.”
“What’s going on with you?”
I ignored him.
“Meg. C’mon. Talk to me.”
“Later. Here’s our stop.” I pushed past him and others to get off the bus.
I walked quickly and he caught up. “Meg, you’re doing the angry walk.”
“Am I? I’m just cold. I want to get home.”
“Since when have you been in a hurry to get home?”
Since I’m worried my best friend is going to abandon me.
He took my arm and slowed me down. “Meg. Please talk to me.”
“Why don’t you talk to me? What’s been going on with you lately anyway?” I demanded.
“With me? I’ve been fine.” He shrugged.
“No, ever since you…your dad…since I found out what you didn’t think I already knew, you’ve been different. Distant.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, it was embarrassing. But I’m over it.”
“No, you’re not. And why are you embarrassed? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Listen, can we talk about this later?”
I huffed my breath. “No. I want to get this straightened out now. I’m tired of feeling like I did something wrong by knowing your dad gets drunk and violent sometimes.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to push you away. I don’t really know how to explain it. I guess I just don’t want to seem weak to you. That’s all.”
“Why on earth would I think you were weak?”
“Well, when a guy gets his ass beat it makes him look weak. I should have been able to fend him off.”
“Jake, don’t you think I know you aren’t going to go off on your own father? I know you defended yourself but you would never hurt him. It’s your holding back that let him get those punches in.”
He started walking again, slowly. “I didn’t like the fact that you’d always known and didn’t tell me either.”
“Well, how the heck should I have brought that up? Oh, geez, Jake, nice weather were having, by the way, I heard your father yelling and breaking stuff the other night, but nice cover up with the whole, I had a nightmare and fell out of bed story to account for the sore ribs.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him to turn around. He looked at me reluctantly. “Jake. I know you better than anyone else on this earth. How could I not know, or care. It doesn’t make you any less of a man in my eyes. I promise.”
He knew sincerity when he saw it, and heard it.
“You know sometimes it seems like our whole lives are on display for all the world to see. And judge. This is just one thing that I wanted to keep private. I didn’t want to think less of me if you knew.”
“Believe me, I understand completely.”
“How can you? I know everything about you.” He nudged my arm, winked and we started walking.
“Not everything.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. But never mind. Now that I’ve said it, I don’t know if I can go through with telling you.” I felt a dark panic well up and put my hand over my stomach to keep it from turning.
“Now I’m curious.” He smiled. “What could it possibly be, I wonder?”
“Look, I’ll come over later if I think I can tell you and still live.”
“Is it something you’ve wanted to tell me for a while?” His voice was unnaturally even.
My heart did a heavy thud. “Yes. But please understand if I can’t. I’ve never told anyone—”
“Well, it would even the score. Maybe I’d feel better about you knowing my secret if I knew yours.”
“I’ll try,” I said and turned, standing on tippy toes to give him a big hug.
“Well, come over later regardless. I wanted to talk to you about something but not here in the middle of the street. And I want to hear your secret first.” His eyes danced with excitement.
♥
Later I sat on my bed with my drawings in front of me. I wanted to spread them out and admire them but it was too great a risk. If someone were to burst in my room, I wouldn’t have time to gather them up out of view. I worried that if someone knew, even if Jake knew, that I wouldn’t love them anymore. That I wouldn’t be able to draw at all after that. It was the only thing in the world I cared about, besides Jake. It was a hell of a risk to take and I changed my mind a dozen times in the span of a few minutes.
I put them away, safe from any decision and went out to make dinner. But half way thorough cooking, I had a surge of energy. An unexplained excitement and I was almost eager to show Jake and share with him my most closely guarded secret.
I walked away from the stove and told my mother where I was with the boxed skillet dinner and that she would have to take over. She grumbled and swore as she pried herself off the couch and I ignored her insults at my laziness as I gathered up my drawings and ran out the door.
Stopping in the street with my sketch pad clutched to my chest like a spoiled child and her candy, I had a second thought. What if he thinks I’m weird, drawing these beautiful naked people? I forced one leg in front of the other, keeping in mind what he said. It would even the secret score. It would help him.
I knocked on the door and held the old wood railing to keep myself from running. He opened it and smiled.
“I’m glad you came. Wanna come in?”
I looked nervously over his shoulder. “It’s fine,” he assured. “Dad made nachos. Want some?”
I shook my head. “Can we talk outside?” It was cold, but I needed to be in an open place, where I could at least entertain the thought of running away.
“Sure. Let me grab my coat.” He turned inside and I
went to the old deck that was built toward the back. It was small, with just enough room for a grill, table and two chairs. The umbrella was up and I bent down to plug in the string of white lights Jake had attached to the underside. It gave a soft glow and I relaxed a little.
I saw Jake emerge out of the darkness with a smile and two cups of coffee.
“Pumpkin spice creamer. Since we’re coming up on Halloween and all. I hope you like it.”
I took a sip. “It’s good. Thanks.”
“I’m glad I didn’t take this old thing down.” He looked up at the lighted underside of the umbrella. “I’ll take it down before we get snow.”
“Might not be that long,” I said, watching my breath make large white furls in front of me.
“Weatherman said not before Halloween.”
“I don’t like it when it snows.”
“Why? Snow is beautiful.”
“Seems like everything goes into slow motion and I feel trapped.”
“Did you come over to talk about the weather? Or to tell me something that would even the secret score.”
I stared at him for a moment. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Well, I’m dying to know what it is.”
“Why don’t you go first? Give me a few more minutes to mentally prepare.”
“Oh, no. Not a chance.” He grinned. “Ladies first and I insist. Besides, what I have to tell you sort of depends on what you have to tell me.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Just go ahead.” He leaned his elbows on the table and stared at me. His eyes were shining with anticipation and the soft light highlighted features, making them darker; he looked much more like a man than the boy I had known for so long.
“I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never shared this with anyone.”
“You said that already. Just spit it out, Meg.” He reached out and took my hand. “I’m open to anything you might have to tell me. Anything.”
“I really wish you’d go first.” My eyes pleaded.
He crossed his arms and relaxed his wide shoulders against the chair with a wry smile. I pulled my hand away.
Poor White Trash Page 5