The Read And Weep Bundle: Anonymous, Perfectly Hopeless, Run (52 page)

Asher and Leon came up eyeing my dilemma. Leon grabbed Mason easily, a cigarette hung loosely from the side of his mouth. Asher helped him taking the other side.

They yelled at everyone clearing
an easy path, something I would have never been able to do on my own.

“Don’t I know you?” Leon asked Mason, he lifted his head looking at him more closely.

Mason swayed and fell into the side of the bar. I sighed, pissed that yet again I was face to face with my father.

“I don’t think so,” Mason told him sliding down the wall. “I’m Mason Vaughn, son of Payton; you probably slept with her somewhere along the line. Who knows? She slept with everything back then.”

Leon didn’t argue. And I was quite confident it was possible Mason mother and my father might have. “Where you guys headed?” he asked us, puffing on his cigarette.

I shot him a glance turning away quickly as he unzipped his pants and took a leak right on the side of the bar. I turned away disgusted. What kind of dad pulled out his junk in front of his own kid?

“Get up, Mason,” I demanded. Asher helped me lift him slinging one of Mason’s arms over his shoulder.

“You two staying at Motel Seven?” he asked as Leon worked his zipper up and followed behind us as we walked.

“Yeah something like that,” I said with a sigh. After tonight we would be without a place to stay all because of Mason’s drunken binge.

“It was nice meeting you. I’ve heard about you, but never knew what you looked like. You have his eyes. There’s no denying you’re his,” he said laughing nervously. It was as awkward for him as it was for me.

“If only it was that easy,” I said, if only I looked nothing like the man.

“He only drinks on Thursdays. He works so much he really never has a moments rest. And then there’s the little one’s on the weekends. That takes a toll on him too.”

“Little ones?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer. “And how old are you?”

“Pops has five kids, well, including you that makes six. I’m nineteen. The only thing I ever knew about you was we were born six months apart,” he explained. He tugged Mason straighter as we continued down the sidewalk to the motel. Mason was in and out of consciousness.

“I never knew that,” I admitted.

“There’s me, Conner, Seth, Abby Gale and Quincy. Twelve year old twins, seven year old girl and a five year old boy. And he means well, I know it wasn’t that way with you, but he means well,” Asher insisted.

We stopped in front of Motel 7; Leon stepped on my heels unaware we were there. Asher opened the door. I wished it would just end already. It was too much meeting your father after your whole life had sped by like a train wreck.

I handed over the key to Asher. My father leaned against the motel. “Can we talk?”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” I asked, stepping back.

He straightened up, trying to shake himself sober or something. He pulled out another cigarette and offered me one. I shook my head, glaring at him.

“I’m your old man, I have plenty to say to you,” he lit up, cupping his hands around the cigarette. Smoke finally escaped and he looked at me satisfied.

“Probably nothing I want to hear,’ I said.

“How have you been? What’s your life like?”

I held back the tears. I never expected a question to hurt so much, but this was like a knife to my heart.

“Really?” I balled my fist. “That’s what I get after nearly twenty years?”

“I was a dumb kid messed up on drugs. I barely knew your momma. She was always coming down to my house to eat supper. I thought she was pretty. I was a boy with a hard on, what can I say?”

There was so much to be said, like why?

“Nothing.” I turned to leave.

“You have family here, you are part of something. And I’m sorry for whatever it was you went through. But I wouldn’t have made it better back then,” he said. He fell silent.

I turned back around looking at him. “Do you know she always said I had the eyes of a demon, just like my father?” I waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t say anything.

“Do you know that I barely knew her
? I knew nothing about either of my parents. Because my fucked up Aunt Wanda was the one raising me pretty much my whole life, if you even want to call it that.”

Leon shook his head in disbelief like I had shined light on something.

I stepped forward. “So I’ll answer your question on whether or not you could have been better than the life I had. After everything I went through, but I doubt you want to hear the answer, because you’re caring and kind now. Your son defends you. Who defended me?”

He nodded his head. “No, I want to hear it. I want to hear anything you have to say.”

I sucked in a breath. “Anything would have been better then Wanda.” I shoved him with everything I had in me, he hit the brick and almost fell.

He collected himself. “My Gran once told me you
can’t make up for what’s lost. You can only make up for what’s right in front of you. I’m not the best guy in the world, but I am your dad and I could try now that you’re in front of me,” he said.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief. “I don’t want anything from you.” I opened my eyes, tears falling. “I look in the mirror
every day and see you staring back at me. That’s enough for me.”

I headed inside our room leaving him alone on the sidewalk, just like he had left me.

Another day was coming to an end. We had survived a few days in Gusby. We stayed far away from our small town resorting to hiding out in an old barn at the end of town. It was a bit pitiful, but it was the only choice we had with no money.

Mason tended to his hangover in the only way he knew how—by drinking more. We couldn’t afford a room, but we had enough for some cheap booze. And I sat in the corner of the barn on a bale of hay I couldn’t stop myself from glaring at him.

“What?” he asked, sipping the last of his booze. He was more alert then the night before, the night when I ran into my father.

“So this is it?” I asked. I was tired and starting to feel like I was coming down with something.

“Is what it, Kendall?” he asked me with that annoyed tone to his voice that becoming a regular occurrence these days. He sat down settling into the ground, his hands behind his head for support.

“We’re just going to sit here and wait for the other shoe to drop?” I asked. Everything felt done. I didn’t know which way was up. I felt like our lives had been put
on pause and we were just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

I had nobody else but Mason, and he didn’t care anymore. At least that was the way it felt.

“I’m thinking. I’ve been thinking for days. I don’t know what to do. I’m not going to lie and say that I do when I don’t,” he said, his expression was blank, vacant.

If Mason was giving up there really was no hope. I couldn’t understand where the smug guy back in Virginia went. The one that refused to go down without a fight, it seemed he left. This change meant we were doomed.

I started chewing on my nails. “Why do you think nobody here knows about us?” I hadn’t seen a single thing. No newspaper articles, no reports on the news—nothing.

“Gusby barely has cell phones or the internet. This shithole is so behind they probably have no idea who the president is even,” he said. He turned his head and spit. The sound hit my ears bringing me to my feet and back to reality all at once.

I walked out of the barn. Mason yelled at me, he didn’t know where I was going. So it didn’t take long to have him on my heels trying to figure out what I was doing.

I was going to regret a lot of things in my life. But there was something that I had to do, even if I hated every minute of it.

I was going to end all the confusion once and for all and go see my mother.

“Are you kidding me?” Mason asked, trying to stop me from heading down the street I grew up on. Everything was pretty much the same as I remembered. Give or take a few houses that looked to be in better shape. A lot of the houses seemed that way as I looked closer.

Jasper Way, my old stomping grounds some would say. Everything that I could remember never painted a very lovely image. Every memory always started with drunken fights or squealing tires. Not to mention the parade of men that seemed to go in and out of my house like a revolving door.

I didn’t remember a single happy moment. No matter how hard I tried, nothing ever came to me that was remotely good. It was all sad. Very sad, it had always been a big haze, and the only time home was mentioned was when Aunt Wanda got drunk and brought up how horrible my mother was. She was always horrible in Wanda’s eyes.

“What do I have to lose?” I said, every step I took got me closer to my old house. As it came into view it too showed improvement. The white paint was no longer peeling. All the windows were intact and even the address was hanging in its place, not crooked or anything. Even the steps were new. It was a whole new place.

I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my t-shirt as I studied the house. I felt slightly sick as I came to a stand in front of the gate. I looked down at the ground, where nothing but dirt and rocks always laid scattered, but in its place was green grass.

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Was I really standing outside the gate of my childhood home?

Was I insane to think that I could really come back?

“Kendall, what’s there to figure out? Your mom might be standing in there right now on the other side of that door,” Mason warned me. He knew at one time it would have been enough to send me running for the hills. She wasn’t something I wanted to talk about let alone see in person.

Mason’s face was pale. He looked close to picking me up and running for it.

“Who are you?” A tiny voice called out. Mason and I looked at each other confused. There wasn’t anyone anywhere that either of us could see. But it was clear it was a child. Finally a small brown haired girl slid out from underneath the porch of my childhood home.

Her long braids danced side to side as she made it to her feet. She stared up at us with big blue eyes and round cheeks. She was cute.

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and pulled eyeglasses from her shirt pocket. She shoved them on and used her pointer finger to slide them up her face.

“I said who are you,” she demanded.

Mason kneeled down getting on her level. “How old are you?” He asked avoiding her question and plying her with one of his own.

“Can’t you see I’m five?” She was not amused by him or the smell of cheap booze on his breath. She waved her hand dramatically in front of her face, scrunching her nose in disgust.

“You’re awful small for five. When I was your age I was two heads taller,” he said to her, he gave her a dirty look.

“If I had a giant fro like yours I probably would be taller too,’ she said letting out an accomplished giggle. She clutched her belly and fell at his feet in a fit of laughter.

I couldn’t help but laugh either. Mason looked appalled that such a tiny kid was being so rude to him.

I wondered if my mother was inside. And if she was what she was doing, or thinking at that moment.

“So who are you?” she asked again jumping back up. She tipped her head back getting a really good look at Mason and me.

“I’m Mason. I used to live around here long before you even existed.  Way before you was annoying the shit out of your mother,” he said looking up at the house.

I slapped him in the arm. “That was rude.”

The little girl removed her glasses and shoved them back in her pocket. She looked at Mason again sizing him up. And then she spit right on his leg. She took off in a flash, slipping right back under the porch.

Mason cursed and grumbled in irritation, wiping at his leg. “It’s not even funny, Kendall. What kind of kid does that? That’s no kid, that’s the spawn of Satan.”

This only made me laugh even harder. Mason glared at me, I covered my mouth trying to stifle the laughter.

A familiar screech filled the air. Mason and I immediately looked at the front door. We both knew that sound all too well. The door still screamed in pain just like when we were kids.

I looked away, fear took over. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. Little by little I forced myself to take her in. First the black strappy sandals, with perfectly polished red toenails, I inched up her legs to a pair of black dress pants, and then a red blouse that clung to a tiny waist.

I bit my lip my eyes settling on her face. It was my mother. I was overcome with emotion. She hadn’t changed, she was the same way I remembered her. Only difference now was she took better care of herself.

“Hi there,” she said, her voice sounded exactly how I remembered it. Even after all these years all it took was laying my eyes on her to jolt my memories. “Have either of you seen a little bitty girl with pig tails?”

She started down the steps.

“She’s under the porch,” Mason spoke up; he too was stunned to be looking at my mother after all these years.

“Dixie jean!” she yelled, getting down on all fours. “What did I tell you about crawling under there?”

The little girl came out quickly at the sound of her voice. She latched on to my mother, holding tight to her as she stood back up.

“Thank you,” she said smiling at the two of us.

“No problem,” Mason said.

I felt like the life was being sucked out of me. I tried to form words, but I was drawing a blank.

“Momma, if I promise to never go down there again can I have some cookies?” Little Dixie asked, playing with her hair.

This was my sister. My mother had another kid.

“Of course, now off into the house. I’m sure there’s a reason these two are standing out here. Shoo,” she put Dixie on the ground.

Dixie stopped on the stairs looking back at us. She nodded her head a big smile on her face.

“He said his name is Mason. He said he used to live around here. And I spit on him because he said I was annoying,” Dixie said, she let out a giggle and ran inside.

I looked at my mother. Her expression shifted from pleasant to total confusion. She studied Mason closely. Her eyes widened. She brought her hands to her mouth in shock. More spread over her as she instantly looked at me next.

Mason grabbed me by the arm sensing I as close to losing it. My legs felt like rubber.

She stepped closer to me. “Kendall?” All the color drained from her face, leaving her as white as cotton. I jumped at the sound of her scream. She dropped at my feet, covering her face with her trembling hands.

Mason squeezed my arm, neither one of us knew what to do. I was in a daze. The neighbors came to their doors.

Little Dixie ran down the stairs to our mother, she pulled on her arm trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

She looked back up at me, tears streaming down her face along with mascara. There were
no words to describe her reaction. It wasn’t what I expected. I felt like I had taken a wrecking ball to her life in only seconds. She was hysterically sobbing at my feet.

“Say something,” Mason whispered, jabbing me in the side.

I couldn’t speak. I was dumbfounded.

“Joy Ann?” Mason started with.

She nodded getting back on her feet. Dixie climbed the stairs and took a seat. She too was crying. I could tell this all was too confusing for her. I watched her wipe at her tears, the look on her face brought me back to life, back to when I was a little girl on the same steps.

I came over to Dixie by some miracle my legs worked. I took her hand and sat down beside her.

“Don’t be scared. I’m sorry for upsetting your Momma. I promise everything is okay. Alright?” I reassured her, looking into her big blue eyes.

“I don’t like when she cries,” Dixie told me huffing in misery as the tears flowed. Her tiny body shook as she tried to get words out.

“That’s very sweet. You sound like a very caring daughter. And I love your name,” I fixed her glasses for her.

“I am all the time,” she agreed.

“Momma’s okay, Dixie,” my mother said standing in front of us now. She wiped at her eyes cleaning herself up for Dixie. She kissed the top of Dixie’s head, her hair brushed against my shoulder as she did so.

“Everything alright?” A man asked in the doorway. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap.

“Everything is fine. Take Dixie inside and give her some cookies please,” she told him. He was in his forties, well groomed and didn’t look drunk or high. He looked like a perfectly normal man.

“I can’t believe I am looking at you,” she told me taking a seat next to me on the steps.

“She’s grown huh?” Mason said with a smile. “In my opinion she’s beautiful. More so then when we were just two scrappy kids.”

Momma laughed through her tears, n
odding her head in agreement. She touched my hair, turning me to look at her.

“You really are beautiful,’ she said with a sigh. “Where is Wanda?”

I wasn’t shocked she would ask that. Wanda had run off with her kid. Anybody no matter who they were would ask that.

I just wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Wanda’s far away from here that’s for sure,” Mason said.

Momma looked off. It was easy to see something was bothering her.

“She would be so lucky to be so far away,” she said.