Break Away: A Midwest Small Town Romance

by Vanessa Sheets

  “What happened to her?” He looks at me with a blank look on his face and I wipe at my eyes.

  “First of all, I want to tell you that what happened to her was not your fault. She was sick, baby. She did something that is called drugs. Do you know what drugs are?”

  “Yes, we learned in school about them. To not take them.”

  “Good. Well, sometimes people need to take them. To help them get better or to help them feel better after they are hurt. But some people’s brains, like mommy's, start to want the drugs all the time. And if you keep taking them, they can hurt you.” I pause because I can tell that his mind is deep in thought.

  “Like how I used to sneak in and take your candy you would hide in your drawer?” I chuckle at his innocence and give him a squeeze.

  “Um, kind of. But candy doesn’t make you die. Although it can give you a cavity and you know what happens if you get a cavity—”

  “They drill your tooth!” I can’t help but giggle at his animated face.

  “Yes, they do.” We sit for a moment in silence. He is still in my arms and I wish that I could dip inside his little head and see what is going on in there.

  “Sissy?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “She isn’t coming back, is she?”

  “No. She’s not.”

  “Am I going to stay here with you now?”

  “Yes, this is your room, and this is our house.”

  “And you're not going to go away again?”

  “Not a chance. If you'll have me, I'm yours until the stars burn out in the sky.” He nuzzles his head into my chest, and I feel his tiny body start to shake with grief. I cradle him in my arms as I did the night my mother brought him home from the hospital and we cry until each of our tears become one.

  THE LAST WEEK HAS been but a blur. A mixture of laughter and tears. Ups and downs. Joy and anger. My emotions are all over the place and I just want to get back to some sort of normalcy. If that is even possible?

  I took the week off from work and pulled Lorenzo out of school so that we could work through this together. The loss of our mother and a new home is a lot for a six-year-old to comprehend. I am struggling with it, so I don’t know how he is doing as well as he is. They say kids are resilient, but I had never imagined how true that was until now. I don’t push him in any direction, I am just here for him if he wants to talk about it.

  We have had movie marathons snuggling on the couch, eating popcorn, and way more candy than I would have ever allowed before. Mornings with plates full of Mickey Mouse pancakes and dance-a-thons to “It's Raining Tacos”. Now, I am walking around with it in my head and wondering how anyone can get rich off such a ridiculous song?

  I had sent a picture of Enzo and me to Noah the first night my mother died. We were in my bed, because Lorenzo didn’t want to sleep in his. He hasn’t slept in it this whole week. He fell asleep on me and I carefully snapped it, making sure not to wake him. Noah replied as soon as I hit send and we texted until three in the morning. We have FaceTimed a few times since that night. He helps me feel lighter when the feelings get too heavy for me to process.

  Corbin and Becca have been my rock throughout all of this. Corbin isn’t really happy that I outed him to Becca about his love for the Vampire Diaries but after a few shots of Fireball, he forgave me. They showed up a few nights with pizza and we binged two more seasons together.

  Ezra wanted to come home and be with me, but I told her I was absolutely not all right with that. We weren’t having a funeral, considering my mother had no funeral plans set up. I had to set up a payment plan for the five thousand dollars that it cost to cremate her and would be taking her ashes with me to set on my dresser.

  Corbin and Becca watched Lorenzo when I went to pick them up. Mrs. Carlson insisted that she go with me. After arguing with her that I would be fine, I finally gave in. I am grateful that she went with me. I wasn’t all right. I was a mess. I snuck her ashes into the house and slid them to the back of my closet. I haven’t looked at them since.

  Here I am, standing in the trailer that I grew up in. Cardboard boxes are stacked around me. Some full, some empty. Decades of secondhand smoke linger on everything as I toss most of what I pick up into the boxes marked Salvation Army. I keep very little. I came here knowing that the only thing I wanted was one of my Nonna's Precious Moments figurines. The one with the little boy and girl, both holding onto a baby’s hands. It says, Family Is A Blessing That Lasts Forever

  Kind of ironic.

  I wrap some newspaper around it carefully and place it in the one box that I am taking home with me.

  Ting

  I grab my phone off the counter.

  How’s it going?

  I can’t stop the smile that breaks through my sadness when I see that it’s Noah.

  Good. Going through my mom’s trailer.

  Ting

  Sorry. That’s hard.

  Yeah. Just want to get it done.

  Ting.

  Just don’t forget to breathe through it all.

  My eyes drag up slowly from my phone and I look around. My mother’s room that I have already decided I am not going through, is down the hall. I remember when Lorenzo’s room was my Nonna’s and his crib had a home in the corner of my room. He would wake me up every day with coos and baby jibber through his crib rails. I laugh out loud, thinking back to when he was finally big enough to stand in his crib and he would throw his bottle onto my bed. It didn’t take him long before he was climbing out and in bed with me. He would poke at my face until I gave in and woke up. I would carry him on my hip down the hall to the kitchen, where Nonna was making us breakfast.

  Horrible memories live within the cracks and stains on these walls, but so do the moments that remind me of my Nonna. It was a different world when her laughter filled our home. I close up the box that I am taking with me, and lift it off the kitchen table into my arms. As I stand at the front door, I allow the memories to fill me up and cut me in the most tender parts of my soul. For nineteen years, I wanted nothing more than to walk out of this trailer and never look back. Today I finally get to do that, and the emotions are overwhelming.

  I can’t help but think that I am leaving a piece of myself behind as I feel each porch step disappear under my feet. I drop the box onto the back seat of my Jeep and get in. I can’t seem to take my eyes off the rusted blue and white trailer as I pull out of the driveway. I give it one last fleeting glance and drive off.

  I turn right onto Center Road, knowing that some good old back road driving is exactly what I need right now. To clear my mind and put as much distance between myself and the painful childhood that I lived through.

  I survived. Surviving is complicated, though. The very definition is continuing to exist. And I don’t want to just exist. I want to live.

  My back pressed against the headboard, I hit send on my cell and can’t help but smile at Sofia and Enzo’s face that now lights up my home screen. The overwhelming joy that I felt the night that she sent it to me quickly was replaced with anger when I found out that her mother overdosed. I hated that this tragedy was thrown at her, like so many other things in her life. More than anything, I wanted to be there for her, to hold her and reassure her that everything was going to be okay. Fucked up part is that I could do just that. Two weeks ago, a storm brought us back to Rockford and here I sit, in a hotel just thirty-five minutes away from her.

  When I told Crew where we were headed, he set out to see her the minute we checked into the hotel. I shut that shit down with lots of overtime and added responsibilities.

  As soon as I found out she was dead, I knew there was no way in hell that I was telling him. Whatever fucked up bullshit he had with that whore meant something to him and I didn’t want to set him off by telling her that she was dead.

  Sofia told me the news over a week ago and I am doing everything in my power to stop myself from jumping in my truck and heading out to Durand. I have talked to her a lot over the p
ast week, not giving a damn that it is ripping my insides apart. She needs me and I am going to be there for her, however that may be.

  Today, she is sorting through her mother’s things. It makes me think back to the day that I found myself going through Cami’s room. I was looking for some sort of closure or answers to the questions that wrecked my mind. I never would have dreamt that what I was going to find would change my life forever. I see Bud lying on the ground... lifeless. I hear the door slam and Crew standing there staring at me in shock. The sound of the match that I struck echoes in my ears and the warmth from the fire that followed the path of gasoline around his body makes my breathing heavy.

  Picking up my phone, I text her back.

  Just don’t forget to breathe through it all.

  Setting my phone on my nightstand, I go to the kitchen to grab something to eat. As I walk out of my room, Crew walks through the door, letting it slam behind him. I can tell by the way he slings his tool belt on the table, he isn’t in a good mood.

  “What the fuck’s your deal?” I gather up the things I need to slap a sandwich together and lay it out on the counter.

  “I've been trying to get a hold of Mona for three days now. Yeah, I know you said not to, but I really don’t give a rat’s ass what you say. I mean, I'm the one holding your balls and all. Anyways, nothing back from her. Texts haven't even been read. Leaving me unseen or something. Just thought I could get with her, you know, and get some shit going while we're in town.” With my back to him, I busy myself with cutting my sandwich in half.

  “Huh, that’s strange. You'd think she’d jump at the thought of reliving your romantic rendezvous?” I chuckle at my sarcasm as I slide his toolbelt over so I can sit down at the table and eat.

  “Kind of strange how you aren’t yelling at me for trying to hook up with her. What’s up with that?” I take a bite and do my best to ignore his question. He pulls a chair out and spins it around, throwing his leg over it and sits down. “Ehh, whatever. Like you ever controlled what I do. So, I’m heading out there right now. Thought you would want to come with and dip into that pretty little thing you were fuckin’.”

  I about choke as a piece of bread gets lodged in my throat. I snatch up my water bottle and take a long drink as I dart my eyes at him, shaking my head.

  “Nooo, you don’t want to do that. She apparently doesn’t want you around or she wouldn’t be blowing you off.” He grabs the other half off my plate and shoves half of it in his mouth.

  “Nope. She ain’t like that. We hook up on FaceTime more than most married couples do in real life.” His smile is creeping me out, and I do my best to shake that vision out of my head.

  “Listen. You can’t go out and see her.”

  Fuck. I have no choice but to tell him now.

  “And you’re gonna stop me?” He laughs and goes to grab a beer out of the fridge.

  I set my plate in the sink and lean back on the counter as I worry my neck and try to find the words that aren’t going to set him into a fit of rage.

  Shit. Just rip the fucking band-aid off.

  “She’s dead.” He slowly pulls the beer bottle from his lips and furrows his eyes at me.

  “What the hell did you just say?” I throw my arms up at him.

  “Fuckin’ dead. Drug overdose.” He walks over, grips the counter with his hand and squints his eyes at me.

  “Dead? And when the fuck were you planning on telling me this information.” I glare back at him, not backing down from the very little proximity between us.

  “Never, actually.” His hand is now squeezing my face and I slap it away, making him stumble.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Crew. Go find some bitch to fuck at the bar.” I go back to my room and slam the door, envisioning his head in it.

  I don’t know how much more I can take. The first time I killed someone, it was out of anger and rage. Not planned at all. But here I am laying in my bed, thinking of ways to do him in. Each way more painful than the last.

  Mrs. Carlson ended up taking Lorenzo home with her to spend the night. I think she knew that I needed to regroup after going through the trailer today. Corbin had asked if I wanted to go bowling with him and Becca, but I told him I wasn’t feeling up to it. I wanted to be alone and binge watch Netflix. I texted back and forth with Noah while I laid on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and eating Ben and Jerry’s out of the container.

  I would be lying if I said that Noah wasn’t tugging at my heartstrings. Now that I had temporary custody of Lorenzo, Noah’s past wasn’t really an obstacle to get in the way. But the logical side of my brain kept reminding me that it was just that. Temporary custody. I was not going to involve anything that could hurt my chances of permanently getting my brother.

  I ended up going to bed around midnight. I was thankful that it didn’t take long for sleep to mute the flashbacks from the past week that would not stop playing in my head. I welcomed sleep more now than ever before. It was my safe place from reality. As long as reality didn’t make its way into my dreams, I was winning. Unfortunately, tonight would not be one of those nights.

  “Enzo?” I squint at the clock on my nightstand. It takes a few blinks to make the fuzzy light clear enough to see that it is three-thirty in the morning. I rub at my eyes and sit up, struggling to pull myself out of sleep.

  Thud Thud

  It takes me a second for it to register that Lorenzo isn’t home, but as soon as I do shoot up.

  What the fuck was that?

  I hear more noises coming from the other side of my bedroom door and slide out of bed. My breathing becomes heavy.

  Did I lock the front door? I know I locked it.

  I tell myself that I am hearing things and slowly crack it open. The moonlight shining through the living room windows is the only light that fills the room. I slip out and go straight to the front door, finding that I did lock it. Calmness washes over me and I decide to go grab something to drink before I head back to bed.

  When I flip the kitchen light on a blood curdling scream that rattles my very insides, escapes me. I watch as the shadow of a man standing in the middle of my kitchen is brought to life.

  Crew? What the—

  I turn around to run and before I can make it out, he grabs me by my hair. I feel my scalp tug at my skull and fall back against his chest. He wraps an arm around my waist, pressing me to him and spreads his hand across my mouth. The smell of stale cigarettes fills my nose and I try to bite down on his pinky, but he quickly pulls it away. Spinning me around to face him, he slams me up against the door frame.

  I scream out in pain, but he covers my mouth again to muffle my cries. His eyes are bulging out of his head and glossed over. I can tell that he is on something and the severity of the situation makes me fight even harder under his hold.

  “Ahh, yes. The feisty little whore that you are. Oh, how I missed you.” He presses his body against me to hold me in place and begins petting my hair. “You. You are the reason that I had to leave your mama.” My eyes, the only thing that I can move right now, begin to dart back and forth madly. I try to break free of his hold again, but it is no use. He is so much stronger than me.

  “I loved her. Loved her spirit... her desire. Was going to spend the rest of my life with her. But that didn’t happen, did it?” When I don’t answer him, he knees me in the crotch. I don’t know how he expects me to answer with his fingernails digging into my cheek. “DID IT?” He slams his fist into my stomach and the pain that shoots through me has me falling to the ground and doubling over at his feet.

  He is going to kill me.

  I cringe as he bends down and puts his lips to my ear, “And now she’s dead. And it’s all... your... fault.” I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that I can hear buzzing in my head.

  I am going to die.

  I try to push off the ground and he kicks me so hard that I fly back and land in my dining room.

  “Stop. PLEASE! Crew!” He steps towards me and grabs a handful of
my hair, forcing me to stand. I reach above my head and grab at his wrists, trying to loosen his grip, but it is no use.

  “I am going to have fun with you, Sofia. Show you what a real man is capable of.”

  The moonlight pours into my dining room, illuminating the twisted smile on his face. I do everything I can to pull away from him but the throbbing pain that envelopes my skull makes me a mere puppet in his hands.

  I feel my airwave being cut off as his hand wraps around my neck. I instinctively start clawing at his arms and can feel his skin collecting under my nails. With pleading eyes, I stare back at this monster that looks like something out of a horror movie.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

  He slams me to the ground, the back of my head meeting the hardwood floor. Shocking pain fills my head and makes its way down my spine. He lets go of my throat and I gasp for the breaths of air that seconds ago were stolen from me.

  Is he laughing?

  His sadistic laughter fills my house and I try to slide myself away by pushing my bare heels against the floor.

  I cry out when I feel his body slam down onto my hips, locking me down to the floor.

  “You broke him. Do you know that?” I turn my head away because I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear that is pooling in my eyes. My response vibrates off the wood floor that is cool on my cheek.

  “Fuck yo—” He grabs my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. He’s squeezing so hard that I can taste blood filling the inside of my mouth. He lets go and slams his fist into the side of my face. A resonating pain shoots through my eye and I start to panic as soon as I register what the wet, warm fluid is that is making its way through my fingers.