Dream Smashers (18 page)

Her head snaps, a little too jerky, a bit
closer to her right shoulder. “Yeah. So?”

So. Serious. She’s never ever been clean in
her whole life. That’s what’s so. I’m not brilliant or anything,
but like Rainy said, “Once a tweaker always a tweaker.” The
adrenaline must have drained from my veins, because I don’t have
the will to tell her. She is, after all, being nice to me for no
particular reason for the first time in my entire life.

“Nothing,” I say instead.

“I ain’t never been clean since I was a
teenager—your age.” She gestures at me and takes another bite of
burger. “I need to move far away from this place. It’s got too many
memories and it’s too hard to stay clean here.”

“You’re moving?” I’m interested, but only
because a spark of hope ignites my heart that I’ll never have to
see her. “Where are you going?”

I turn my gaze toward the truckers at the bar
to not have to witness the disgusting display of food in her mouth
as she speaks. Not that mashed-up cheeseburger is bad, but the
combination of black teeth with bright red gums surrounded by the
mashed-up cheeseburger tends to push me over the top of the gag
hill. I’d rather watch truckers and hairy dudes pick their butt
cracks than watch her talk with her mouth full.

“Montana.”

Sweet! I force the near-giddy-laugh away.
“Oh. That’s kinda far. I’m sure you won’t see any of your old drug
buddies there.”

“That’s the plan.” She looks directly at me.
“You’ll come. Won’t you?”

I steal a double-take. “What?”

“To Montana. I hear it’s great there. Just as
pretty and all as here, with mountains and trees. Less rain though.
You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

This time, my thoughts zip out of my mouth
before hitting my brain. “How do you know what I’ll love? You don’t
know anything! I’m not going to Montana. What makes you think I
would?”

She puts her half-eaten burger onto the
plate. “I wasn’t sure, but thought I would ask.” A familiar edge
cuts through her voice.

“What about Grams?” I ask. “Does she want to
pack everything up and move?”

“I’m not inviting her.”

I need space and push my chair back away from
the table. “Let me get this straight. You’re moving to Montana to
get away from drugs and you want me to go with you but you don’t
want Grams to go?”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t you want Grams to go? Who do you
expect to take care of her?”

“She’s a big girl and can take care of
herself. I don’t need her meddling in my new life.”

“You…you…” Every muscle in my body tenses.
“You are so—”

“So, I take it you ain’t coming?”

“Yeah. You can take it that way.” I stand.
Muscles constrict my throat, almost choking me. “Why are you only
nice when you want something? Why all of a sudden do you want me
around?”

Jacinda shifts in her chair and grabs the
napkin—scattering the silverware—to wipe her fake drama tears that
emerge with no notice. “I told you why.” She practically bawls.
Crazy witch. “You are my daughter…
my
child! You don’t really
have a choice.”

“No, I’m NOT your daughter. You are the most
selfish person I’ve ever known! I hate you!” The anger flows and I
can’t stop it if I want to. I could just kick her head in.

Her tears dry up as fast as they arrived and
her eyes direct narrow evil beams into mine. “You will come whether
you like it or not.”

Bitch. I turn and run from her as fast as I
can, out of the café without stopping. The wet air hits me. I run
down the sidewalk despite the rain pounding me every which way
imaginable. I need to get as far away from her as possible.

My lungs burn.

How dare her!

I scream.

She can’t just show up after being an
evil-meth-monster all my life and decide she wants to be a mom.
It’s not right. Grams won’t let her take me. She’ll see.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Jacinda steps out of the Share Home into
fresh air. Finally. And walks with her head down and hood up to
keep the rain out of her eyes. Every time her step hits the outside
world, the very second fresh air touches her face, the clouds
release their liquid pain on her head—never giving her a fucking
break. Doesn’t she deserve sunny days and a life of her own? It’s
like she has a Charlie Brown cloud constantly following her
around.

What’s the point of having a covered
designated smoking area if it’s across the fucking parking lot?
Smokers have to get soaked before reaching the cover. Stupid.

She reaches the butt-littered shelter with a
vandalized bench, digs in the dark void of her bag and pulls out a
pack of smokes. Sitting down on the bench, she lights a cigarette
with a pink lighter, the very same lighter that she snagged from
Darla, who ain’t called her once since the hospital. Some
friend.

The rain slows. Jacinda’s pretty fucking sure
it’ll start again as soon as she’s done smoking. Smoke fills her
lungs, relaxing every muscle and filling her with a fierce
satisfaction. She coughs. Oh well. She doesn’t need to breathe
anyway.

A familiar hacking echoes from behind her.
Great. Ma’s coming to steal what little peace she has out here by
herself. Ma’s already lit her cigarette and puffs away while
inching toward Jacinda. With her body hunched over, her tiny feet
scuttle across the wet pavement toward the shelter.

“Move over.” Ma pushes Jacinda’s leg and
squishes her skinny ass onto the bench. She coughs before taking
another drag off her smoke and dropping it onto the ground to smash
with her shoe. “What’s your plan?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Naggy
and nosey as usual.

“Well.” Ma wraps a gray overcoat tighter
around her absent waist. “There’s a rumor that you’re moving to
Montana. Were you planning on telling me?”

“Not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business,
but yeah. I’m moving and I’m going to take
my
daughter with
me.” Ma thinks she can control Jacinda’s every move, but not this
time. Jacinda’s calling the shots now, like any adult should. This
is her fucking life.

Ma’s brittle hands twitter. Her gaze stays
straight in front of her, unable to look at Jacinda because they’re
squished on this stupid bench. “I’m very proud that you’ve been
able to clean yourself up. It’s been something that I’ve prayed for
since you started using drugs. You can’t even imagine how happy
that makes me.”

Silence.

Ma doesn’t mean her stupid words. If she
means them, she wouldn’t have kicked Jacinda out of the house. She
wouldn’t have taken Jacinda’s daughter. She would have loved
Jacinda and helped her.

Ma’s phlegm-voice continues. “Do you plan on
working?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to get a job.”

“I hear they’re hiring at Matt’s Café. They’d
probably hire you on.”

“That’s nice and all, but I ain’t working at
no café washing dishes.” That kind of job is for kids. Jacinda’s
thirty-three-years-old. They ain’t gonna want no old lady washing
their dishes.

Ma’s bottom lip sticks out. “I see. What kind
of job are you expecting to get?”

The condescending tone in her voice flickers
with Jacinda’s heart. Hers goes flat when she says, “I think I
could do office work.”

“Have you taken any classes?”

“No! What the fuck do I need classes for?
Math was an easy class in high school. There ain’t no reason why I
can’t get a bookkeeping job. I’m just as good as anybody else.”

“But you didn’t graduate high school,
dear.”

Jacinda blasts off the bench and whips around
to face Ma. “You don’t think I can do it? It fuckin’ figures! You
ain’t never believed I could do anything. All you care about is
your precious Autumn. Autumn this, or Autumn that. Well, I’ve got
news for you. I’m taken her far away from you and there ain’t
nothing you can do about it.”

The rain shatters on the roof of the shelter,
muffling the frustration that would have screamed out of the
confined space if allowed to.

Ma lights another smoke.

Jacinda waits.

“I never said that you couldn’t do it,” Ma
says. “You need some education first. And you know that I love you
and will support you.”

Stupid words. That’s all they are—words that
don’t mean a fucking thing. She don’t love her.

“But I’m afraid you aren’t ready to take
Autumn yet.” Ma stares past Jacinda, out into the rain, the parking
lot. “You are welcome to visit her anytime she wishes to see you,
but she’s not going anywhere with you as far as I’m concerned. And,
if you do decide to kidnap her, that’s exactly what it will be
considered as—kidnapping. The police’ll be called. You’ll be
arrested. I’m sorry.”

Acid boils into Jacinda’s chest and throat.
“She’s
my
daughter. I won’t be arrested.”

“Yes, you will. According to the court order,
I’m her guardian, not you.”

“Then I’ll change it! You can’t have her no
more, you stupid selfish hag. I hate you!”

A half-smile glimmers on Ma’s
wrinkle-puckered lips for a second and then she looks straight at
Jacinda. The gray-ridden fog in front of her corneas clear—exposing
an eye full of pupil. “I don’t know why you have it in your
cockamamie head that no one loves you or why you feel so sorry for
yourself or how you turned into this…” She grasps for a word.
“…person. But if you want to move, then fine. You can go as far
away as you’d like. By yourself. And you can pout and feel sorry
for poor little Jacinda. By yourself. Go!” She leans over, closer
to Jacinda. “But know this. Autumn is not a little girl anymore and
she won’t be going with you. That, my pretty daughter, you can bet
your life on. You had your chance.”

Jacinda’s turn, except she doesn’t have
anything potent to say. So, she says, “We’ll just see about that,
you fucking old bitch. Fuck you!” And stomps off into the shower of
fire. It’s only rain, but it may as well be fire. Stab her, burn
her, skin her—it wouldn’t matter. It’s not fair. All she wants is
her own life. A life away from Ma’s control. A chance to raise her
daughter and make choices for her. She has as much right as the
next person.

The urges, the yearning, the need all run
Jacinda over. She needs something to put it out, to douse it,
anything. Fuck! Just one hit would stroke the spot—just one. That’s
all she needs. One time won’t hurt anything. And that’s it. Then
she’ll be done for good. It’ll be enough to get her through this
rough time, enough to quiet the beast.

Aimless. Wander. Fog. Soaked through
cold.

Once may not be enough. She may need more and
if that happens, she won’t take any after the second. But, she’s
worked so hard. Once. Just one more time and then she’s done.

She stops.

Darla’s house sits right there. All she needs
to do is ask. In fact, she probably won’t even have to do that.
Just walk up to the door and knock. They’ll let her in, always
have, always welcoming. Her chosen family.

One step closer.

She stops.

Thirty-three days will go down the drain.
Remember the pain, the longing, the sickness, the hunger, the cold,
the fucking loneliness. She made a promise. But it ain’t no promise
if it can’t be kept. Ma will never let her keep it. It’s Ma’s
fault. She’s the reason for this. If Jacinda takes a step, it’s not
because she wants to. It’s because Ma forced her to it. It’s not
Jacinda’s fault.

Not. My. Fault.

The front door cracks open, the screen
creaks; a blond mop pokes from behind. “JC?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Tuesday, November 17th

I didn’t want to wake up this morning. Sleep
felt too good. Better than drugs, not that I’d know, but I bet it
was. Forgetting yesterday, the deep darkness that still looms in my
heart, felt easier to do while asleep.

Nightmares don’t stay with me like they do
some people. They slip away when the sun rises. When I wake, only
the residual feelings remain. By the time I stand, they are usually
completely gone.

But not today. Today my nightmare stays with
me, most likely because I was awake when it happened. Awake when
Jacinda decided to come back into my life and demand that I live
with her. I’d always hoped she would come clean, that she’d want me
and live with me, but I never dreamt she would drop a bomb like the
one she did yesterday. She can’t do that. I won’t let her.

I stopped by Rainy’s house on the way to
school today because she hasn’t returned any of my texts or calls.
She wasn’t home. No one was. Instead of waltzing into class late,
I’ve opted to wait for the first half of the day to end by taking
refuge in the cloak of the forest. I’ll get to class on time after
lunch.

Rainy discovered this place last year—behind
the trees, with a clear view of the front of the school, yet hidden
deep enough to not be seen. It stays dry from the rain, which dumps
from the sky now. We carved out areas in the forest floor to plant
our butts, filling it in with dried moss and grass for cushion—a
perfect hide-out to cut a class or two. Not as perfect as the pit,
but that is off limits now.

A twig snaps behind me.

“Hey biotch.” Rainy walks from deep in the
forest toward me, soaked and wearing a thin hoody with the hood
over her head and black skinny jeans. Wisps of blond hair stick to
the sides of her face from the rain. “I thought I might find you
here.”

“Oh my God!” I jump up and run toward her,
giving her a big bear hug. The best thing I’ve seen since the
invention of the internet—better than fried chicken and chocolate
combined. She showed up to save me from my own despair. My
counselor, my guide, Rainy always knows the exact thing to say to
pull me from the dark and back into the light—to the other side of
the rainbow.

She returns the hug harder and longer than I
expect.

“Where have you been?” I ask. “So much has
happened this weekend and I need to tell you all of it.”