Read Christy: A Journey Tale Online

Authors: Michael Thomas Cunningham

Tags: #love, #loss, #friendship, #life, #death, #journey, #redemption, #meaning, #purpose, #waffle house

Christy: A Journey Tale (6 page)

BOOK: Christy: A Journey Tale
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“No, it would never work, and there is
nothing I can do to change that,” she thought as she now realized
to say anything else would just be wishful thinking. Her mom had
been right about a few things, but not about everything. You can’t
help how another person feels, and to hold to something that
doesn’t want to hold on to you is pointless. “It’s never going to
work,” she repeated to herself. She knew that their relationship
had always been one-sided. The thought made her pause. “He always
has a plan and I wonder what his plan is for this. I’m sure he’s
considered the possibility, so if I’m going to win this thing, I
have to be smart about it. I have to beat him to the punch and
that’s not going to be easy,” Jennifer thought as she came back to
reality. She reached over and turned off the blower on the heater.
She decided then that she had wasted enough time. She pulled out of
the parking spot and headed slowly out of the cemetery.

As she left she watched the scenery pass by:
the grave, the rise beyond, and then the other markers and head
stones that spread out before her. She had always tried to avoid
cemeteries so she had never really noticed all the different
variations in markers and headstones. There were so many of them.
Some had names; some didn’t, but they were all testaments left by
the living. Her mind drifted as she imagined the accomplishments of
those that were clearly wealthy and those that were clearly not.
She was thinking about one family; there were five of them, with a
six-inch marble slab over their graves when suddenly she caught a
glimpse of someone out the corner of her eye. Jennifer jerked her
head around in surprise. A faint cloud of smoke and a lone female
form was leaning casually against a tree. “Is that her?” Jennifer
thought as she resisted the temptation to hit the brakes. She kept
the car rolling as she looked back at her in the rearview mirror.
She was just standing there like she was waiting for something but
wasn’t sure exactly what that something was. “What is she doing?”
Jennifer’s imagination jumped from one absurd conclusion to
another. When she lost sight of her completely she made a quick
U-turn in the middle of the drive.

Once she had turned the car around she drove
until she thought she could see her and then slowed down to a
crawl. She could feel the adrenaline surging through her body as
she gripped the steering wheel. “Was she just waiting for me to
leave?” The thought made Jennifer more angry than intrigued. Then
almost when Jennifer began to doubt that the woman was still there
she saw her and came to a complete stop. Jennifer waited. She
waited, watching her every move. Jennifer gripped the steering
wheel even harder as the woman turned around and stared directly at
her. Her body language changed instantly. They both seemed to
recognize that they both had been caught. The woman extinguished
her cigarette against the tree and then began to walk toward
Jennifer’s car.

 

Chapter 9

 

Christy watched the black ash tumble to the
ground as she pushed her cig into the tree. She dropped the butt
into a pile at her feet that had formed since she had been standing
there. She had been watching them put Jack in the ground and was
waiting for them to finish. “They’re good guys,” she thought. They
worked hard and steady even though they must’ve been bored to tears
doing the same job they had probably done a thousand times before,
maybe even more. Burying people had to be one of the most
depressing jobs she could imagine, but a job is a job and right now
she would take any job she could get. It might be boring, but then
again there has to be something comforting about doing the same
thing over and over again. To always know what needs to be done and
how to do it had to make life a whole lot easier.

After the boys had finished cleaning up, she
was about to make her way down to the grave when the sound of a car
stopped her. The two ladies where back so she made herself scarce
until they got through doing whatever it was they were gonna do.
She figured the older lady had to be Jack’s wife. He had told her
so much about her, Christy felt like they could’ve been old
friends. She looked nice and Christy wished her well. She had lost
people too and knew what it felt like to be alone. Then there was
the other lady. Yes: Miss Fancy Pants. By the way she held onto the
older lady’s arm and the way she acted at the grave, she had to be
Jack’s daughter, what’s her name, Christy couldn’t remember. The
age was about right though, and she certainly looked good. It was
clear she had done much better for herself then he could ever have
given her.

Christy cursed herself for not clearing out a
little quicker when that car rolled by. Fancy Pants had pulled a
quick U’ey and parked no more than 50 feet away. She was just
sitting there watching her. It was insane. “Why is she just sittin’
there?” Christy thought as she took a deep breath and evaluated her
options; none of them seemed good. She decided on the spot the best
thing would be to go over there and talk to her. At the very least
it might keep her from doing something really stupid like calling
the Po Po. Christy put her hands in her pockets and made her way
slowly down the embankment toward her car where she was parked.
Christy tried to look as casual and as non-threatening as possible.
When she got closer she could hear the dull thump of the door locks
engaging. She grinned to herself realizing this was not going to be
easy, but she still hoped that her and Fancy Pants could reach an
understanding. The black paint job on her Mercedes shined like a
new penny as Christy speculated what kind of sweet life this lady
must have.

“I bet she even has a bottle of wine with
dinner every night,” she thought. Her stomach knotted as she was
almost to the passenger door. Christy had enough experience with
people to know she had to play it cool. On the other hand things
weren’t exactly as bad as they could be. At least the two of them
had one thing in common and that was Jack.

After the older lady had left Christy had not
been content just to stand there and wait. She had made her way
back over there just to take a peek, and it proved to be a little
more dramatic than she had anticipated. It was fairly obvious from
the show this lady put on they must have been real close. Then
again, Christy figured there had to be more to it than that. She
definitely had to have a few skeletons in the closet.

“You don’t break down like that unless times
were that good or they were that bad.” Christy would put her money
on bad and let it ride.

Christy got close enough to the car to see
the woman’s eyes and the shock as she kept coming closer. What
Christy didn’t see was a cell phone in her ear and that gave her
some relief. The woman was nervous, of course, but not terrified
enough to do anything about it. This was good news and meant that
as long as Christy kept it civil everything would be ok.

Christy smiled as wide and as friendly as she
knew how. She waved hello and motioned for her to roll down the
window a little so they could talk. The woman fumbled with the
controls a bit as her anxiety level went up more than Christy would
have preferred. The passenger door window did eventually go down,
but only about two inches. That was not as much as Christy was
hoping for, but she reacted as if it was exactly what she had been
expecting.

“Hey, how ya, doin.” Christy said with a warm
smile.

“Fine…” Jennifer said weakly as it took her a
moment to respond.

“So, I guess your wonderin’ what I’m doin’
here?” Christy let the question disarm her, but continued before
she could respond. “I want you to know I ain’t crazy and I sure as
heck ain’t stalkin’ you or nothin’ like that.” Christy hesitated a
moment and then decided to chance it. “I’m just here to pay my
respects to your daddy.” Christy saw the surprise in her eyes and
waited.

“What…” Jennifer said completely baffled.

“Your daddy, Jack Randall,” Christy let the
words soak in. “I’m here for his funeral and that’s all. Like I
said before, I ain’t a freak or nothin’, but I knew him and we had
some history together. I’m just here to make my peace without
botherin’ anybody or getting’ in the way.” This whole encounter was
becoming just a little too surreal for Jennifer. For her own sanity
she had to bring the conversation back to some semblance of
normalcy.

“How did you know he was my father?” Jennifer
asked suspiciously.

“That was a guess, but it was pretty clear I
reckon. I kind of recognized your momma from what Jack told me
about her and I saw you two leave together and I just put two and
two together. That’s all.” Christy could have told her more but
figured it would be better to keep to the basics at this point.

“So you were watching us.” Jennifer said
pointedly as her nerves began to dissolve into anger.

“Hey, hold on a minute! It ain’t like that.”
Christy had let this go long enough and if she didn’t want to do
any fast-talking with the police she better start talking now. “I
know it all may seem a little strange, me talking to you like this.
I mean look at me.” She said as she took a step back so Jennifer
could see her as she was. “I know I don’t look like much and maybe
people like me don’t mean much to you, but people like me meant a
whole lot to your daddy. I spent a lot of time with him and maybe I
could tell you some things about him you never knew. Jack had a
whole other life out there on the road. Maybe you know that; maybe
you don’t.” Christy let the words hang in the air and judged her
body language. “I guess right now I’m bettin’ you don’t. I can see
in your eyes, you got what they call issues. Just maybe I can help
you out with that. So…as I see it, you got a choice. Are you going
to drive out of here leaving things as they are, or are you going
to at least hear me out?”

Jennifer could smell the must of the
cigarette smoke though the window. Her eyes glanced over the
woman’s secondhand clothes, sizing her up. Jennifer knew this had
to be a con. Then again if it was a con, it was a very good one.
She had not offered this woman any information and what she was
coming back with was fairly detailed. “How did she know all that?”
Jennifer wondered as the yarn she was beginning to weave was not
completely out of the realm of possibility. The woman seemed odd
and trashy, but she at least had done nothing to threaten her.

“If you knew my father so well why didn’t you
join us for his burial?”

“Yeah, I know. I guess I thought it would be
best if I kept to myself; less questions that way. Besides, you
don’t know me and I didn’t think it was right for me just to show
up like I was one of the family. Well, that is of course until you
spotted me, but that wasn’t exactly what I had planned.” Christy
said with a grin.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re still
here?”

“You’re right; it don’t.” Christy said as her
tone turned serious. “And I’m sorry for that,” Christy said a
little embarrassed. “I guess…well I guess I’m having a little
trouble letting go. I reckon I got issues too.” She said after a
long pause. She had been searching deep within herself not just for
an answer, but for the truth. “I mean, he was there for me when I
needed someone, but then I can’t help but feel that I let him down
somehow. You see, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, but
that was my fault.” Christy paused again trying to be as honest
with herself as she could. This was not an easy task considering
that she had told herself so many lies the truth was more of a hazy
fog than an absolute. “Well, maybe that ain’t quite right. The
truth might be closer to the fact that I got mad, I got so mad in
fact that I ain’t talked to him for near on a decade.” Christy said
with her shoulders slumped and defeated. Jennifer’s expression and
body language had softened to the woman’s explanation. In that
moment she understood her and just maybe she felt that they might
have more in common than she first thought.

“I guess that sounds a little silly, don’t
it?” Christy said as she thought about it. Actually, hearing the
words and hearing herself try to explain it just made her sound
like a freak. Maybe I am a freak. She was ashamed of herself and
realized for the first time how awkward this must be. “I’m…sorry,
I’m sorry I bothered you. I…I need to get going.” She said as she
turned to quickly walk away.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Jennifer yelled
fumbling with her seat belt and trying to get out of the car all at
the same time. She stood just outside the driver’s side door and
yelled again stopping Christy in her tracks. “Is that all true? I
mean…everything that you said about you and my dad. Was that all
true?”

“I’m afraid so,” Christy said as she lowered
her head.

“How long did you know my father?”

“5 years,” she said without even batting an
eye. Jennifer considered it for a moment and then played it out in
her mind. There were risks, but then again there are always risks
in life and today seemed like a good day to chance it. This woman
was down and out, but she obviously had a story and now Jennifer
desperately wanted to hear it.

“It’s still pretty cold. Why don’t you warm
up in the car?” Christy gave a slight grin and began to walk
back.

“Thank you,” she said as Jennifer unlocked
the door to let her in.

 

Chapter 10

 

When Christy got in the car, it was her hands
that first grabbed Jennifer’s attention. She couldn’t help herself
from looking. Christy’s nails were bitten short and dirty with a
sheen of yellow tar. Her fingers were long and lean with knobby
knuckles and no rings. Her veins bulged from beneath weathered
wrinkles and the rest of her hands were worn and rough. They seemed
to tell a story about her life, but up to this point it didn’t
appear to be happy tale. They were a microcosm of her life; abused,
worried, and older far beyond their years. Jennifer caught a glance
at her own hands for comparison. Manicured nails and smooth
moisturized skin told a very different story. What does this say
about me? Nothing, she mused. Most would probably say she has a
good life, and might even go as far as to say that it was easy, but
those people only look at the surface. Her marriage, friends, and
yes, even money were problems that affected her just as deeply as
anyone else. In fact, it was probably worse in her case because she
had so much more to lose. The thought stopped her cold as she
listened to herself. She could feel the hypocrisy. Maybe those
hands were just her reaction to a desperate, mad world. It doesn’t
mean anything. What makes a person the way they are…choices,
nature/nurture, or something else? It has to be more than that.
There are too many intangibles for it to be wrapped up so neat and
tidy. If their situations or their circumstances were reversed,
would she fair much better? Maybe in the grand scheme of things,
this woman could have been something amazing. The terror of their
initial encounter and the emotional drain had taken its toll on
Jennifer. Now that her adrenaline was beginning to wane she began
to feel herself shrink into a deep sadness. She focused unblinking
at her own hands on the steering wheel. They were a lie, and she
looked at them as if they were not her own. They certainly got the
best. She pampered them with professionals, indulged them in
pharmacology, and dressed them for show, but that’s all they were;
for show just like the rest of her. Her whole life was a show, and
the shallowness of it made her sick. She looked at the woman beside
her, and what she saw was someone who looked exactly the way she
felt.

BOOK: Christy: A Journey Tale
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Downshadow by Bie, Erik Scott de
Belgarath the Sorcerer by David Eddings
The Summer Day is Done by Mary Jane Staples
Hearse and Buggy by Laura Bradford
Brutal Discoveries by Kasey Millstead
Her Alien Abductor (Aegarian Saga) by O'Hurley, Alexandra
The Nuclear Catastrophe (a fiction novel of survival) by Billig, Barbara C. Griffin, Pohnka, Bett
My Swordhand Is Singing by Marcus Sedgwick