Shattered (3 page)

The other side of the street held a couple of freestanding buildings.  On the end, closest to the two-lane highway, was a gas station.  It sat next to Jim Reynolds’ Garage and Evans’ Bouquet, a flower shop that January’s mom owned and operated.  I used my work release to help her out each afternoon when I left school.

I pulled my car into my usual parking place and made my way up to the garage entrance.  Each day, before I went into work, I stopped to check in on Mr. Reynolds. I walked through the open overhead door and saw him bent over under the hood of a station wagon.  The car looked to be more suited for the junk yard, but Mr. Reynolds was never one to turn away business.  He was very good at this job and I had no doubt that it would be purring like a kitten by the time he finished.  He was so focused on his work that he didn’t even hear me walk in.  I tapped him on the shoulder, careful not to scare him.  I’d learned that you can’t just yell out at a man who is working under the hood of car.  The first and only time, I’d done it, Mr. Reynolds had raised up so quickly he cracked his head open on the sheet of metal hovering above him.  I’d felt awful for startling him, but he assured me that it was just part of the job.

He must have known it was me, because he said “Hey, kid,” before he even laid eyes on me. When he did turn, his gray eyes met mine. I took in a deep breath and smiled. It was like staring into the future of what Garrett would have looked like.  They had the same build, face structure and buzz cut blond hair.

“Hi,” I leaned against the car, “how are you?”

He gave me the same grin and nod that he did everyday. “I’m good. You?”  

We’d spend the next 10 minutes or so making small talk.  He’d ask me about school.  I ask him about work.  It was never anything more.  Neither of us ever brought up Garrett’s name, but we knew it was the only reason that we’d maintained in contact.  Garrett’s mom had passed away years ago after a short battle with cancer. I’d never even met her. Garrett had been all the Mr. Reynolds had left.  The garage had been closed for two weeks after he died. I can’t imagine the grief that he felt from losing his only son.  His son that for the past ten years was his whole world. Everyone that he’d loved in this town was gone. Somehow he managed to pull himself up and go back to work.  He spent the majority of his time here now.  He was probably trying to avoid the loneliness that waited for him at home.  I’d like to think that my visits helped ease the pain, but in reality, I was just being selfish.  I knew I was the reason that Garrett was gone and I kept going to see Mr. Reynolds, because seeing him helped me keep a piece of Garrett alive.  Plus, it was the least I could do to ease my guilty conscious.

We said our goodbyes and I headed over to the flower shop.  “Hey, Ms. Evans.” I said as I walked through the store and into the back room.  She was in the middle of creating a beautiful arrangement.  I could tell by the yellow and white selection of flowers that it was for our school graduation.

“Hey Lyss,” she mumbled while frantically searching the workbench in front of her, “have seen that two-inch black satin ribbon anywhere?”  The back room of the flower shop was a disaster.  Vases of flowers, in every color and species, sat on every flat surface of the place. Glitter and scraps of fabric scattered the floor.  She liked to refer to it as “organized chaos,” and pretend that everything had a purposeful place.  “I know I just saw it!”

I walked over to the box full of ribbon spools.  The same box that I’d told her time and time again was the ribbon box.  I’d even written it on the box with a broad-tipped sharpie.  “It’s right here.” I handed it to her.

“Thanks, honey!  Didn’t I tell you to call me Wendy?” She pulled a yard from the spool and wrapped it around the base of the vase, as she looked at me over the rims of her narrow framed hot pink reading glasses.  Her hands and scissors worked in unison to create a perfectly proportioned rosette bow.  She centered it and secured it with the two long pieces that she’d left hanging down.  The black ribbon completed the school colors of the arrangement.  She stepped back to admire her work.

She beamed. “Looks good.” Her creativity was endless.  The way she turned a cluster of flowers into a work of art never ceased to amaze me.  It didn’t stop there, the front of the shop was filled with not only her latest floral creations, but paintings, pottery and a plethora of other eye stimulating pieces.  As a self-proclaimed hippie, she drove her daughter nuts with her left-brain thinking.  It was a far cry from January’s analytical, right-brained mind.  The two of them in the same room was comical.  Their polar opposite personalities always seemed to start some sort of debate. Wendy would thank Mother Earth for the beautiful flowers that were delivered, while Jan thanked the scientifically engineered greenhouses and FedEx.

“This is going to look great in the gym tomorrow,” she added as she eyed it one last time with her hand on her chin, looking for any stray pieces of greenery.

“It will.” I smiled, not knowing if I’d be in attendance to see her work on display.

She pulled an ink pen from her tangled bun and began to write something on the order form from the school. “Did you see Jim today?”  She always asked me if I’d stopped by the garage.

“I did.”  I smiled at the curiosity she always seemed to have about Jim.  Wendy had been single for quite some time.  January’s dad had worked in the city and hated living in a small town.  He commuted every day, until he “just couldn’t do it anymore.”  They’d been divorced for over ten years now.  I felt bad for January that he was never really in her life.  For years, she spent every other weekend with him, but as she got older her visits became less and less frequent.  Jan was a small town girl and she never felt like she fit into her father’s world.  Besides, she always felt guilty leaving her mother alone. As much as they disagreed about the creation of flowers, they loved each other unconditionally.  I used to wish for the same kind of relationship with my mother, but that had gone out the window with the rest of the hopes and dreams I had for my life.  

“How is he today?” Her eyes lit up as she waited for my reply.

“He seemed good,” I hesitated, “I’m sure he’d be a lot better if you’d just ask him out to dinner.”

Her eyes widened at the thought, “I could never.”

“You totally could.“  I stopped her self-deprecating rant before she could start it. Watching the color of her cheeks turn a bright shade of red, I knew that she had a crush on Mr. Reynolds. “You’re both single.  He’s a nice guy, you’re a nice gal. Make it happen.”  I crossed my arms as I gave her my best pep talk. “Life’s too short.”

She smiled. “Maybe I will.”  She returned to her work.  I turned to walk back the front of the store and take my usual position behind the counter. “Alyssa,” I heard her say.

“Yeah?” I stopped before walking through the swinging door, turning to look at her.

“Life
is
too short.” she winked, “Take your own advice.”

I forced a sad smile as I exited.  Maybe I wasn’t as good at hiding the depressed state I was in as I thought I was.  As much as I wanted to get back to the living, I couldn’t escape the dead.

Jesse

When I got back into town, I wasn’t expecting to see her right away.  She was the reason I came back, but I thought I’d at least have a couple days to figure out what I was going to say or do.  The twenty hour drive back to Harrington had left me short on ideas. I watched as she got out of her car. Luckily, a delivery truck was parked in front the Evans’ Bouquet, hiding my bright red Jeep Wrangler from her view.  She turned to offer a polite wave to the driver as he was exiting the building.  She smiled, but I could see the sadness in her eyes.  She’d been crying.  Her dark brown eyes looked heavy and her shoulders were slouched as she shuffled her pink flip-flops across the street. It was almost too much for me to take.  I wanted to get out, wrap my arms around her and beg her to let me back into her life.  I wanted to take away all the pain that she was carrying around.  It was my fault she was broken.  The last time she looked like that, I fixed her.  Well… we fixed her.

“This year is going to be awesome.  We’re gonna rule this junior high school.”  Garrett slammed his locker shut and tossed his backpack up over his shoulder.  I was barely able to share his excitement.  I was too busy staring at the pretty little sad girl that was standing a few lockers down.  She was waiting on her blond friend to finish her drawn out goodbye to her new boyfriend.  I recognized the blonde January Evans.  Her mom owned a flower shop next to Garrett’s dad’s garage.  The boy that was taking all her attention was new. Hapley something.  She was paying no attention to her friend.

“She’s cute. You wanna talk to her?”  Garrett leaned in next to me, breaking my concentration.  “Or do you wanna take her picture?  It‘ll last longer.”

“I’m not… I was just…” I was flustered. I felt the warmth in my face and shook my head defensively.  He’d just called me out for staring at her.  “No.”

“Alyssa Boyd.”

I let my eyes wander back to her when he stopped to get a drink at the water fountain.  “Huh?” I mumbled, while I let myself get lost in her.

“That’s her name.  Alyssa Boyd.”

I remembered Alyssa Boyd.  She was the scrawny little sixth grader, all knees and elbows that took a dodgeball to the face last year.  This girl was not the same one.  I turned back to Garrett.  “She the one that Will Bramel nailed in dodge ball last year?”

“That’s her.”

“She looks different.”  It was crazy to think that over one summer a girl could change so much.  She’d gotten taller.  Her tan legs looked two miles long and she was staring to fill out in other noticeable places too.  She was definitely not scrawny anymore. She’d let the short, bobbed hairstyle from last year grow out.  Her cocoa colored hair now hung down past her shoulders in waves.  “Much different.”

We walked past her and I noticed the sad stare she was offering in January’s direction.  We’d been in school a little over a week and I couldn’t for the life of me remember seeing her until now.  How could I not notice such a beautiful face?  Her eyes were the deepest shade of brown I’d ever seen and were completely surrounded by thick, curly lashes.  She didn’t wear a bunch of make up like all the other girls in my class.  Those girls drove me crazy.  Always looking for attention, trying to get me to notice them.  Until I saw those brown eyes, I could have cared less about wanting a girl to notice me.  I was in 8
th
grade.  I just wanted to play basketball and ride four-wheelers with my friends.  Then I saw her and everything changed.

“You wanna talk to her or not?”  Garrett backed into the door leading out of the school. What would I say to her?  What if I embarrassed myself?  I couldn’t talk to her, but I couldn’t stop looking at her either.  She was too pretty to look that sad. “Ok, Romeo…” Garrett laughed as he pulled my arm, leading me out the door.  “Let’s go. We‘ll work on your pick up lines.”

That afternoon, Garrett and I walked out to his garage to get our four-wheelers.  I left mine at his house, since my house was in town and we always rode out in the country.  I hadn’t said much since we left school.  I couldn’t get the image of Alyssa out of my head.  I kept trying to figure out why she was so sad.

“Where you wanna go?”  Garrett asked as he sat down his four-wheeler.

“I don’t care.” I shrugged.

“Still thinking about that girl?”

“No.”

“Liar.” He smirked.  “You should have talked to her.”

“And said what?”

“I don’t know.”  He tossed his hands up. “Anything.  At least then you wouldn’t be moping around wishing you would have.”

“She just looked upset.”

“Probably because her BFF is blowing her off for her new boyfriend.”

“Hmm?”

“Her and January were like joined at the hip before Hap moved here.”

I knew what it felt like to get left behind.  My parents did it to me all the time. “I feel bad for her.  That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Garrett nodded.  His eyes widened with a smile, as if he’d just come up with the greatest idea in the world. He cranked his engine.  “Let’s go.”  He peeled out of the shed, leaving me no choice but to follow.  

I was a little surprised when he turned onto County 5.  We usually stuck to the back roads.  I pulled up next to him as we approached the driveway of a big white farmhouse.  It was two-stories and had a covered porch that stretched around the whole thing.  It sure beat the apartment above the bar where I lived. There were a couple of outside buildings, including a big red barn on the edge of the property.  I was pretty sure it was the kind of place people painted pictures of.  I’d probably been by a thousand times and never noticed its country charm.  Guess I never had a reason to.  This time I did.  I saw her pushed up on the tips of her toes with her arm reached in to the giant metal mail box that sat at the end of the drive.  It looked like it could eat her alive.  Garrett smiled as he pulled up and shut his engine off.  I followed his lead and turned mine off.  What was he doing?

“Hey!” he shouted out. Startled, she jumped back, dropping the handful of letters that she had worked so hard to retrieve.  She whipped her head around.  The soft curls of her hair followed.  Garrett leaned over, stretching his hand out to slap me in the ribs, “Now you can talk to her.”  The smug grin on his face was full of self-praise, like he had just done me a huge favor.  I had no idea what to do.  I felt my palms start to sweat as I watched her pick up the letters and walk over to us.  After Garrett asked her to go with us, I knew he was trying to get me to let her ride with me, but I couldn’t.  She made me nervous. I tried to play it cool and came off like a complete tool.  She went with us anyway.  Even though she rode with Garrett and I hardly spoke to her, I was just happy that she was with us.  And smiling.  I watched as her hair whipped around as she held on tight to the back rack of the four-wheeler.  When I heard her laugh, I knew I was in trouble.  It wasn’t forced or contrived; it was pure and full of life.

It took me a while to work up the courage to actually converse with her and by that time the three of us were such good friends, I never told her how pretty I thought she was.  I didn’t want to risk ruining anything.  I was just happy the sad look on her face was gone.