Dream Smashers (7 page)

After Jacinda got knocked-up, and the brat
popped out, Ma would stay awake for days, waiting for her daughter
to walk through the door to tell her she was fine. She’d let her
sleep it off in her old bed. But that’s about all she’d let Jacinda
do—sleep it off.

Now, the sweater is all patched up and
missing a top button and shit. The worry lines on her face are more
like canyons than lines. She coughs and takes a sip of whatever’s
in the Starbuck’s cup she’s holding. Probably coffee, black. Its
heat races into the air.

Jacinda wonders if the sweater still has the
same smell: Avon perfume, coffee and nicotine. “Where’s that beer?”
Jacinda steps from the house into the bright, cold air and sits in
the other chair next to the table. The sun nearly blinds her.

Ma pulls a paper bag squished around a forty
from her giant purse and sets it on the table. “I came
prepared.”

Ah, Ma. Always thinkin ahead. “Give me one of
those.” Jacinda reaches for Ma’s smokes.

“Here, I brought you your own.” Ma hands her
an entire carton.

“Cool.” It must be Christmas. Jacinda rips
the carton open. The packs fall onto the table and she opens one,
pulls out a single smoke and lights up with the Zippo.

Ma points to the lighter. “You be sure to
give that back to me before I leave. Don’t worry, I won’t be here
long.”

“Good ‘cause it’s as cold as fuck out here.”
Jacinda wraps the blanket she stole from the room around her
shoulders. It stinks like dead flesh.

Ma turns toward Jacinda. When did her eyes go
gray? Her dark brown eyes have a film or some shit over them. The
lids have no elastic, just flaps of leather that someone super
glued around her eyes. “I had a dream last night,” Ma says.

Oh great. Now Ma’s gonna say Jacinda’s gonna
die. Well, woopty-fuckin’-do. Jacinda don’t give a flying fuck if
she’s gonna die. It’s not like she can stop it or nothin’. People
die every stupid day. It’s about time her turn came along.

Ma crushes her cigarette out in the
over-filled ashtray on the table and lights another. “Aren’t you
going to ask me what it was about?”

Ma has dreams. And when she does, everyone
stops their lives to listen ‘cause she dreams about people’s deaths
and shit. She dreamt that her sister would die in the snow, and
then her sister died in a freak snow storm the next month. Once,
she dreamt that her fuckin’ brother would die in a plane crash, and
then he died in a plane crash. The kicker about that is after
hearing about her dream he wouldn’t even fly. The plane crashed
into his car. Trippy shit. She also dreamt that Pops would die in
the hospital at Christmas time, and then, he died of lung cancer in
the hospital the very next Christmas.

“I know what the stupid dream’s about. Well,
I hope I do die. So there. How do you like that?”

Ma’s wrinkles scrunch up around her eyes, the
anger spills from the gray veil covering them. “It’s too bad you
don’t appreciate how good you’ve had it. You think the world needs
to cater to you. But, you know what? I’m done doing that. I love
you so much.” Ma’s voice croaks. She coughs and clears it, sitting
up straight. In a quieter voice, she says, “I love you. I’m sorry
you can’t appreciate that. But, this is not about you this time, my
dear. This is about your daughter. I had a dream about Autumn.”

“So, she gets to die then? Figures.” Jacinda
grabs the beer out of the paper bag and twists the cap off. It’s
nice and cold on her parched throat. So cold that she feels it slip
all the way down her throat and into her stomach.

“So, how does she go? Does she get some fatal
disease? Or maybe she jumps off a bridge and ends it herself?”
Jacinda laughs at the shocked expression on Ma’s face. Priceless.
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this shit. You took her away
from me. Why should I care?”

Ma’s entire body shakes. Old age must do that
to everyone. Or maybe she’s just angry. Ha! Ma, angry? That’s a
riot. “Now, you listen to me.” She pounds her purple fist on the
table. Oh, yeah. This ought to be good.

“Your daughter,
my
granddaughter,
didn’t ask for a bad mom. She didn’t ask to be born to someone who
doesn’t care for her.” Ma’s bluish finger points at the beginning
of each sentence. “Autumn is a good person, whether you want to
admit it or not. Just because you went and got knocked up by that
man, does not mean that she is horrible. God gave you a gift damn
it! Because you haven’t cared for her, now she’s being taken
away.”

Jacinda chokes down another sip of beer and
tries her best to hold in the stupid tears burning her eyes. “God
did not give me a gift! I didn’t ask for her. It wasn’t my fault.
Why does everyone always blame me?”

Ma coughs violently and spits onto the
ground. “Well, I just thought you should know.” She looks defeated
and tired. Ha. Jacinda won.

Ma says, “If you care to clean up your act,
I’ll be happy to take you to rehab. Maybe you can get to know
Autumn a little bit before she goes to be with God.” She stands,
walks with her back hunched over to the gate, and then turns, as if
she wants to say something but doesn’t. She leaves.

The pain wrenches through Jacinda’s entire
body. Stupid life. Stupid Pastor Bob. Fuckin’ fucker. Stupid,
stupid, stupid. Tears sizzle down her face and her stomach seizes
again. Hot beer pours out of her mouth.

CHAPTER NINE

“Well?” Caleb bends to stretch his
hamstrings.

“What?” Evan asks. The sun has decided to
shine this morning so they’re taking advantage of the dry air by
adding another jog for the week.

“How did it go after you dropped me off last
night?”

“Oh.” A tingle tickles in Evan’s chest.
“She’s great. We went for ice cream.” They trot down the trail to
warm up. The sun may be out, but frost stings the air. Trees shed
their vibrant leaves, making for a slick surface over the mud.

“You like her, don’t you?” Caleb punches
Evan’s arm.

“That sounds more like a statement than a
question.” The truth is Evan can’t get her out of his head. Her
sweet and unsure disposition, her caring dark eyes and silky long
brown hair, not to mention her long legs. He shrugs. “Yeah. She’s
cool.”

“What church does she go to?”

“Does it matter?” It always comes down to
that with Evan’s family. Every single time.

“Well, uh…” Caleb rubs his nose. “Normally, I
would say yes, but I don’t think she goes to church. Both her and
Rainy looked at us like we were freaks or something.”

“Yeah, but I don’t care about that right
now,” Evan says.

“You don’t?”

“No. I don’t.”

Caleb lifts half his face in a grimace.

Evan says, “They were both pretty nice. What
did you think of Rainy? Do you like her?”

Caleb picks up the pace. “I don’t know. It
was kind of awkward.” Caleb has zero luck with girls. His last date
never returned his calls.

“Autumn said she would volunteer at the Share
Home on Monday,” Evan says.

“She did? That’s weird.”

“Why?”

Caleb shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m sure she’s a
nice girl.”

“You bet she’s a nice girl. How far we
running today? You want to go ten miles round-trip?”

Caleb sucks in a gallon of air and then lets
it leak out of his mouth in a controlled hiss. “Yeah. I was
thinking maybe only three miles. I’m pretty beat this morning.”

“Sure.” It’s probably best since Caleb will
bring up the whole church thing again.

“Are you going to introduce her to your mom?”
Caleb smirks. “If you do, you should probably warn Autumn about
her.” He laughs. “Remember your last girlfriend? Your mom had her
near tears.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Hey, that’s what cousins are for.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll warn her.” Evan
won’t let his mother near Autumn before he explains how picky and
sometimes rude his mother can be. He doesn’t want to scare her off.
Not this one.

A thin layer of sweat beads on Evan’s
forehead and nips his skin against the air. Two hawks soar in the
sky, circling ahead of them, above the open field. They run in
silence.

CHAPTER TEN

Sunday, October 4
^th

I’m primed and ready to spend my entire
Sunday planning at the kitchen table, designing my new life. Rainy
texted me that she’s being shipped to rehab, which totally sucks,
and Grams left for church already, so I have the house to myself to
make my fresh start.

Pen in hand, paper on table, I write:

NEW LIFE RULES TO LIVE BY TO BECOMING
CAREFREE AND SUCCESSFUL

1. Wear a smile every day.

No. That’s lame. I don’t want to smile every
single day.

1. Wear a smile every
day
.

When I first saw Ms. Lightheart, I don’t
think she was smiling. Of course she was all by herself. She seemed
like the type of person who would smile whenever people were around
though. So, maybe smiling every day is a good rule.

1. Smile and be pleasant. This will create a
feeling of well being. People like others who are pleasant. (I
think)

Carefree people most likely work hard at it.
Ms. Lightheart must have worked hard because she has a nice car, a
symbol of her hard work.

2. Work hard in school and in everything I
do.
This will give me a sense of accomplishment.

3. Help others in need.
See number
two.

4. Eat well balanced meals.
This will
keep me healthy and my complexion will glow.

5. Exercise regularly.
See number
four.

6. Make new friends.
Popular ones. Or
just better ones that don’t drink, do drugs or whine and complain.
People who do well in school and also want to improve their lives.
Or friends that are already carefree and successful.

7. Read these rules daily. Practice these
rules hourly.

Now, if only I can stick with these
rules…

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Monday, October 5th

I’m a free spirit without a worry in the
horizon. A road, smooth as glass, lies before me for miles and
miles.

“Good morning Grams,” I announce in the
kitchen. Rule Number One: check.

Grams sits at the table with her scissors and
newspaper sprawled out in front of her. “Clipping coupons this
morning?”

“I didn’t get to them yesterday.” She looks
up from her clippings. “Well, well, well. Don’t you look nice.” The
expression on her face warrants an explanation, but she asks before
I can say anything. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I’m trying something new.” I
shrug, a little embarrassed. “Aren’t you going to Matt’s this
morning?”

“I’m waiting for you.”

“Oh, I’m not going. I thought I would have
some fruit and oatmeal before going to school early this morning.”
Rule Number Four.

“Come here.” Grams points to the side of her
newspaper.

I step forward. “What?”

She presses her hand against my forehead.
“Nope. You don’t feel warm. Were you smoking that wacky weed with
Rainy the other night?”

“Ha! Very funny.” I walk to the cupboard and
pull out the necessities to make oatmeal. “No. I just don’t want to
end up like her, or like Mom. I’m being proactive and
carefree.”

“Carefree? Huh. I’d say you’re anything but.”
She folds up the newspaper.

“Well, in order to be carefree, I have to get
organized first. Like, a structured plan and stuff.” I place a bowl
of oatmeal mixed with water into the microwave. “I’m not sure
exactly how to get there, but I dunno, with a few guidelines to
live by, I’ll figure it out.”

“So tell me again why you can’t go to the
diner for breakfast. I think I missed that point.”

“Matt’s doesn’t have healthy food. There’s
only, like, fried food and stuff. Besides, the entire place is
filled with smoke. You don’t want me to get lung cancer do you? How
can I be carefree when I’m worried about getting lung cancer and
eating unhealthy food?”

“Well.” She pauses, in thought. “Okay then.”
She collects the coupons scattered on the table and puts them into
one pile. “Fine. I’ll just tell the ladies you aren’t feeling well
today. But if you get lonely eating all by yourself, you can come
on down to Matt’s.”

“Thanks, but you can tell them that I need to
get to school early, because that’s the truth.” Rule number two.
“It’s not like I’m avoiding you and your friends or anything. I
just want to try this for awhile.”

Grams stands, walks over to me, and kisses
the back of my head. “You silly girl, don’t you worry about hurting
their feelings. You go on and have a carefree day.” She looks at me
longer than usual as if she wants to say something important, but
doesn’t, then turns to walk out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you after
school then.”

“Okay.” I brush the weirdness off and pick a
perfect banana from the bunch in the fruit bowl. “Oh, I forgot to
tell you that I’ll be helping Evan out with some stuff after school
today.”

Grams steps back into the kitchen. “Is Evan
the date from Friday? The one you didn’t want to go on with
Rainy?”

“Yeah. He’s nice.” I peel the banana. “You
can meet him if you want.”

“I’ll be here when you get home. Have a good
day, dear.”

“’Kay. You too.”

I sit at the table and eat my breakfast.
Today’s going to be a strange day. No Rainy. Her parents shipped
her to rehab for a few weeks. She’ll get counseling and stuff so
that she will be more responsible. Whatever. That’s what they said
when they shipped James off to rehab. Except he truly needed it.
Rainy doesn’t take any hardcore drugs. It’s not like she’s an
addict or anything.

On the positive side, at least this gives me
a fresh start. Without Rainy around maybe I’ll have the courage to
meet new people. In order to be carefree, I should have more
friends. Today is day one of my new life, a life full of carefree
bliss.