Jayne Doe (9 page)

Jillian is my niece.

I’m her aunt and she doesn’t have a clue.

“My daddy did a bad thing.”
Her face is scrunched up, but her eyes are wide. Like she’s telling me this because she wants answers. Answers that I’m never going to give her.
“He’s not going to heaven.”

“You don’t know that,”
I say, trying to figure out a way to get out of this conversation.

“Yes, I do.”

“How?”
I question to avoid giving information.
“How can you know that?”

“Because the angels told me.”

“Angels?”

“Yes, the angels. With Stephen.”

“Where is Stephen?”
I move closer to her, staring into her eyes.
“Jillian, I need you to help me find him.”

“I don’t know.”
She starts to cry.

I reach for her, pulling her into my lap so that I can hug her, but she begins to disappear.
“Jillian, Don’t leave me.”

In seconds she’s gone and the only sound I hear is Jayne’s heart pounding in the front seat. Johnny is on the front porch with his arms crossed.

“Jayne,” Casey says. “What happened to your lip?” He squeezes the steering wheel.

“I-I fell.”

“Are you sure?” He’s absolutely clear on who’s going to get hurt now. “I want you to stay in the car.”

“No,” she says, and grabs the door handle. “It’s best if you just go home.”

“I’m not letting you out of this car.”

“Casey, go home.” Jayne’s voice is mean. She wants to sound mean. It’s the only way for him to be safe. She doesn’t want him getting hurt. “I need to be with my boyfriend. This was a mistake.”

He’s crushed, but at the same time, calculated. He knows he has to play his cards right to help her out of this abusive situation. He knows how badly things can go.

A knot forms in my stomach, working its way up and lodging itself in my throat. Jayne swallows hard as Johnny saunters out from the carport and leans against a his dad’s truck.

“What’s up?” He fakes a smile.

Casey opens his door and props it with his lower leg.

“I had to finish signing the last of the funeral papers,” Jayne says, clambering out of Casey's car. Her breath hangs in the air as she lets out all her pent up fear. “I hope that’s everything you need?” She looks at Casey, eyes wide, hoping that he'll play along.

He’s smarter than that. He’s going to make sure she’s protected. “Actually, I’ll be over later to have you and your mom sign a few more things.” He stares at Johnny long after his words are out. “You’ll be around tonight, I trust.”

“Johnny, did you know Casey is a mortician?” She smiles a fake, sugary smile at Johnny. “Creepy isn’t it.”

Johnny grunts at her and glares at Casey. He doesn’t give a damn what Casey does for a living. He grabs Jayne by the wrist and drags her in the house. Casey stands there, staring into the living room window. I glance at his face, full of concern, and rush inside.

I can’t leave Jayne.

Johnny drags her into the bedroom and slams the door, blocking it from the inside. I’m afraid if I push through I’ll get sucked into his black hole again. I stand there, listening to her muffled screams.

He’s beating her.

I run to Martha’s room. She’s asleep. Billy has his ear-buds in and is blaring music so loud he’ll never hear what’s going on. I press on his bladder. He looks up. I press harder. He rips out the buds and rushes to the bathroom.

A broken scream stops him in the hallway. Billy leans against Jayne's door. He can hear everything. To my horror, he smirks and turns away.

Dumb bitch.
Probably deserves it.

“Are you kidding me? She's our sister.” I feel like slapping his face.

He wanders back to his room and turns the music back up.

I scream at the top of my lungs and run back to Jayne’s door.

Johnny opens it slowly, checking the hallway to see if anyone's around, before pulling it open wide and strolling down the hall to Billy's room. He taps on the door. Billy opens it a crack and peeks out.

“What’s up, bro?” He opens his door, pulls out an ear-bud, and holds it in his hand.

Johnny holds up his fist and they tap knuckles.

You can both rot in hell.

“Hey, man, we still on for tonight?” Johnny asks. “I’ll give you the cash when she puts out.” Johnny nods his head.

“Oh, she’s game.” Billy follows suit with the head bopping. He’s dying to be as cool as he thinks Johnny is. “Trust me, it’s all she’s talked about all week.”

I grab the sides of my head willing them to shut up. Jayne needs me. I rush back to her room.

She’s curled into a ball in fetal position on the floor in the middle of her bedroom, her body so still I'm afraid to touch her. White-hot rage boils under my skin. I'll kill him for this. I swear on everything I have. I’ll kill him for this.

Eleven

Jayne's eyes are swollen as she stands in the bathroom, staring glass-eyed into the mirror. By tomorrow, they'll be bruised and speckled with blood vessels. Her face is blotchy but I can't tell if it's from Johnny or from her tears. She carefully takes out a washcloth and wets it in cold water before pressing it gently against her forehead, tentatively blotting it against her eyes and wincing.

Johnny stomps down the hall and out the kitchen door. His old man's truck roars to life and he peels out of our driveway. Though I'm tempted to follow him and make him drive off the road, I need to be with Jayne.

With the washcloth still pressed to her face, Jayne creeps out of the bathroom and darts into her bedroom, closing the door tightly behind. Her lip quivers and she sinks to the floor. I'm not sure what to do to help her. Mom never had a guy hit her like this.

Why are you putting up with his crap?
I ask her silently, willing her to hear me. She tucks her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them until she's as small as she can be. I kneel beside her.

She's trembling, her body racked with silent sobs. I reach out and touch the side of her face. The part not covered by her hands.

It's okay, Jayne. I'm here.

Her heart thrashes against her chest in an agonizing cadence. But it's more than just the physical pain. She loves the baby inside of her already and a part of her confuses it with Johnny. She resents him, but she's afraid of losing him, of being another pregnant teenager in a trailer park, of having a baby without the daddy. She never wanted this.

The back of her head thumps against the wall behind her and she looks up at the ceiling and sighs, nervously running her fingers through her blond hair. “What have I done?” The question hangs in the air unanswered. She's being irrational. She just wants everything to go away.

No.

If my heart could still beat, it would shatter into a thousand jagged pieces.

Don't think like that.

She stands up, muddled resolution plastered across her face, and heads for mom's booze cabinet and the leftover painkillers from Martha's wisdom teeth.

I grab her shoulders. “Don't you care about Jillian? She's just a little girl and this isn't her fault.” I shout at her, hoping she'll hear me.

She won't listen. Her mind is a tornado and it's spinning out of control.

She misses me.

She can make the pain stop.

“Mom can't handle losing another child. It will kill her. Martha and Billy will be alone. They're not ready to grow up,” I scream again.

They need you, Jayne. Everything will work itself out in the end.

She won’t listen.

I have to get help.

Casey.

I have to find Casey.

He'll come for Jayne. He'll make everything better.

I focus on him, on dark eyes like endless pools and a love for Jayne so intense it nearly bursts from his skin.

Then I’m outside. It's dark and laughter permeates the night air. I’m in the woods, close to the barrel Johnny used to destroy the pieces of my life. Out of habit, I stick out my hands to warm them over the fire. There are a dozen or so lawn chairs and shadowed faces glowing with perspiration.

Martha?

She's sitting on some guy's lap, running her fingers through his hair and giggling. They're drunk. Electric crackle of hormones and heat, alcohol and sex, deceit and mistakes surrounds the area. They don't care about privacy. The drugs and booze destroy any decency they might have had.

I search for Casey, but he isn’t here.

The roar of an engine disrupts my disappointment.

Johnny.

The wad of gum in his mouth is revolting. He thinks it covers the stench of whiskey. He's an idiot. I move into the backseat of his father’s extended cab. He's waiting for Billy and I have to concentrate to keep out his vulgar thoughts. He wants sex. But not as much as he wants to hurt someone.

Billy pulls up next to us in mom’s rusted out Grand Prix. Johnny rolls down the window and peers down as he speaks, his breath fogging in the night air. “What up?”

“You got the candy?” Billy puffs on a cigarette.

Johnny pulls out a bag of weed, the same kind Billy stashes around his bedroom. “I got it.” He holds up the bag and shakes it back and forth. “You got
my
candy?”

A girl slithers out of the back seat of Billy's car. She's skin and bones and missing several teeth. Her eyes are sunken and a mop of brown hair hangs limply around her face. Mom says girls like that are meth heads, whatever that means. Her emotions are out of control and I fight to block out distorted images and broken words.

Johnny looks pissed. “What the f–”

“Dude, trust me,” Billy interrupts, blowing a cloud of smoke into Johnny's truck. “She's a downtown Judy Brown.”

My mind is hazy and I don't know what they're talking about. All sound shuts off. I can't even hear Johnny and his emotions are so high he might as well be screaming. The girl slides into the truck next to Johnny and her face immediately drops into his lap.

I close my eyes. I can't hear anything. I can't see anything. I can't feel. The silence is comfortable and I fade into easy contentment until the sound of traffic whizzing by forces me to open my eyes and break my comfortable reverie.

Sinclair?

Movement in the window catches my eye. Jayne's inside and she's following Beth into the office.

I step inside, moving through aisles of chips and freezers of beverages into the small office. Jayne's wearing sunglasses and Beth is visibly nervous, though she's trying to remain calm. She wants to help Jayne. She knows what she's going through. And she knows what's under those glasses.

“When's your next test?” Beth asks about school to divert tension. “Don't you have that awful math class this semester?”

Jayne nods. “It's not that bad. I like math.”

“Girl, I'm just glad someone invented calculators.” She's being serious. “I can't pass the GED to save my life, but someone told me you can use calculators now.”

“I could tutor you.” Jayne's mood lifts at the prospect of getting out of the house for something other than work. She's no longer hung up on pills and booze. That ship has sailed.

The drive-thru bell dings and Beth stands to open the office door. “Just a minute,” she calls as she squeezes her hips through a space between the counter and the wall.

Beth's voice is funny, like something startles her. “What can I get you?” She peeks over at Jayne before turning back to the window. “Two Red Bulls and a lighter, is that all?” I creep toward Beth and look out the window at her customer.

Johnny is parked in the drive-thru with Ms. Skin and Bones and she's all over him. I glance back at Jayne and cringe. This is how she's going to figure it out.

Johnny's in a hurry – he's afraid someone will catch him with the strung-out brunette in his truck, drunk and stoned. He hands Beth a ten-dollar bill. “Shut up and put your head down,” he snaps at the girl through gritted teeth before pulling away.

“Don't forget your change, scumbag.” Beth leans out the window and yells loud enough for Jayne to hear. They're the only two in the store.

“When did you get rid of that asshole?” Beth squeezes out from behind the counter and walks back to Jayne. She doesn't know that Jayne has no idea about Johnny.

No, Beth. Stop.

“What?” Confusion etches across Jayne's face as she looks up at Beth.

“Looks like he got what he deserves; she's a ho-bag.” Beth looks out the front window and watches Johnny's brake lights disappear. “Man, he's a loser. What did you ever see in him?”

“Who?”

“Johnny.”

“What?” Jayne jumps to her feet and bolts toward the window.

“Oh, honey. Please tell me you two broke up.”

“I'm pregnant.” Jayne sinks back into her chair and sighs, a flood of tears dripping down her cheeks.

Beth runs to her and wraps her arms around Jayne's shoulders. “Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it wasn't him.”

“I saw his truck.” Jayne lifts her face, her eyes widening as she looks at Beth. “What did she look like. Am I prettier than her?”

What's wrong with you, Jayne? Of course you're prettier than her.

“Heavens, yes,” Beth chuckles. “Like a million times.”

“Maybe it was his dad.” Jayne's lying to herself and she knows it, but avoiding the truth seems easier than facing it. “Are you sure it was him?” Desperation creeps into her voice; she's waiting for an answer she won't get.

“Even if it was, you're still prettier.” Beth sighs and blows her bangs away from her face. “And you're having his baby. He won't want anything to do with that slut.”

What are you doing, Beth? Don't console her. Tell her to dump him.

Jayne isn't satisfied with the answer, but she feels slightly better knowing that Johnny traded down. I wish I could grab her and shake her until she understands how much better than him she really is.

“Was he your first?”

Jayne nods “I love him.” She doesn’t mean it because an image of Casey flashes through her mind. She's confused. She has to be. The risk with Johnny is turning her into a coward. I curl my fingers into my hair and scream. She doesn't hear me.