Double Fated (Book One)

by C.K. Mullinax

  Chapter Nine

  My new look garnered many surprised, and mainly appreciative, glances. My drama director, Marcus followed me around like a shadow. I would have been more concerned about his sudden interest, but he promised to help me catch up with the rest of the cast members. So, I ignored his stare-fest.

  By the time I rushed into the gym for practice, I was barefooted. I had taken my heels off right after lunch and carried them in my backpack. I didn’t even have time to change before Piper came running in and announced Jordan was just involved in a car accident.

  Operating on panicked auto-pilot, I ran into the parking lot to check on him. Although his car appeared to be totaled, he claimed he was uninjured. I still forced him to go get checked out and told him he couldn’t cheer without written permission from the doctor.

  My heart was still pounding from the scare, so I cancelled practice. The squad was torn between being concerned for their teammate and being ecstatic by this rare, practice skip, so close to competition time.

  Jarron would stay with me while I waited for Audrey. He strongly hinted that he was ready to start being my bodyguard.

  “Have no fear…I will be using you, by this weekend. I’m sure you’ll regret accepting before this is all over. You’re gonna get sick of seeing my face. My gypsy family is very traditional and heaven forbid, I be seen in public without male company stuck to me,” I stated.

  “You make it sound like they wanna drag you into a cave and hide you from the population,” he responded, humorously.

  “I’m sure my brothers have considered something that drastic. They’re all older and beyond overly, protective…”

  “Well, I’ve got two sisters. So, lemme know if they find a cave that’s big enough and discover a successful way to permanently wrangle, you inside…”

  He and I were still conversing when Audrey walked in and appeared confused. I told her about the accident.

  Stunned by my new ride, Audrey didn’t ask me anything about it. She listened to me talk about my new clothes while silently admiring Willow’s Mustang. I suppose Audrey doesn’t feel comfortable asking if I had impulsively purchased a sports car during my lunch break to match my wardrobe.

  Our casual conversation suddenly, took a turn into “strange” territory. She unbuckled and leaped into the back floorboard without warning. I hit the brakes, reflexively.

  “No! No! Keep going!” she demanded.

  “Don’t jump! Change…we can…stupid topic!” I shouted nonsense.

  My mind temporarily exited. Two scares, in one day are two, too many.

  “Lester’s waiting! That’s his truck. Alan’s there, in his own car. That means they brought back-up!”

  “Okay, we’ll just go grab some dinner. If they’re still waiting when we get back, I’ll call campus security and the police. You’re all clear. You can rejoin me. We’re back out on the road,” I told her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…” Audrey stated.

  “It’s fine. I thought that might be your way of hinting that I needed to change the subject before all your brain cells fry to a crisp, like mine have,” I offered, using levity to try and steady my shaking voice.

  As much as I wanted to avoid making Audrey uncomfortable or prying into her private life, I can’t continue dodging this subject. Lester, Alan and their back-up might be dangerous. If they are, I need to do something to protect all of us.

  We sat in a back corner and I wasted no time. I questioned Audrey about her cousin, Lester and his “criminal” gang, directly.

  “I should’ve just told you from the beginning. Lester and the guys aren’t dangerous to anyone besides me. They wouldn’t have involved you at all, but you sorta ran into the middle.

  “Alan and Horse were convicted of burglary a few years back. They were just kids when it happened. They stole a blender and a couple of copper-looking pots. Who does that, anyway?

  “Lester’s been hunting me down for my Pop. I spent over a year warning my dad that I was going off to college. He didn’t believe me – because to him, I’m a waste of space, good-for-nothing whore. He has faith in those words, too. He announces them drunk and sober.

  “My Pop has always had control of me, Lester and every other person that’s not stronger than him and within arm’s reach. I turned into the maid, the cook and the scapegoat when mom bugged out on us…” she stated, hesitating to take a sip of her drink.

  “How old were you when the transformation happened?” I inquired, cautiously because I could sense her discomfort.

  “Around five or six – it’s difficult to tell. We didn’t really celebrate birthdays or holidays. It’s hard for a little kid to keep track of time like that. I started school late. At least, that’s what I overheard the truancy officer tell my dad when he told him he had to send me or face charges. He wasn’t certified to home-school me.

  “When my mom left us, she was working as an exotic dancer. I don’t remember much about her, except she had tattoos, was a drinker and got into fist-fights. My Pop said she went from “dancing the hoo-chee to selling the hoo-chee”. Lester’s mom, Estelle was my dad’s sister. She was an exotic dancer with a sideline business of selling her body. It’s sorta ironic…Estelle’s obituary listed her as a sales’ girl and her employer as the “Boos Thatch”. I think both words were a misprint.

  “At any rate, Estelle wasn’t interested in raising a kid, and my dad needed help with the farm. I’m not exactly sure, but I think Estelle had Lester so she could sell him to her brother. That all happened before my time, though.

  “According to my dad, Aunt Estelle is the “whore who got my mom hooked on the hoo-chee”. And, I was the whore who forced her to leave us. I don’t know if there’s any truth to either comment, or if he blames us so he doesn’t have to look at the guilty party in the mirror.

  “My mom’s best friend growing up was like a sister to her. I call her my Aunt Angie. Aunt Angie says my mom took off because she couldn’t take my Pop’s abuse, anymore. She swears my mom loved me. But, not even Angie has heard from her in the last several years and when she did hear from her, she didn’t ask about my welfare.

  “I kinda think Angie tries to convince herself that my mom loved me to make herself feel alright about things. See, my mom took my brother and sister with her and left me with my psycho Pop to fend for myself. Maggie is about one year older than me and Roger was the baby. He could walk and talk, but I don’t know how much younger he was than me.

  “It’s odd, but no one considered that it was mom’s alcoholism that made her abandon me. Well, no one blamed her horrible actions on her drinking, other than me…”

  She stopped talking to take another sip, but this time I didn’t say anything. She was delving into some private, hurtful territory. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to continue. But, evidently she needed to talk about it and the story spilled out like water from a broken dam.

  “My Aunt Angie still lives in Mississippi. She tried to be like a mother to me, when she could that is. But, my Pop hates her because what happened with me, occurred at her house. It wasn’t Angie’s fault. Ironically enough, it wasn’t my Pop’s fault either. At least, not in this case…not really.

  “Angie’s live-in boyfriend wasn’t around too often. So, she usually had to hire a handyman when she needed something repaired. She lives in an old house. Her handyman’s name was Tito and he was Italian. He seemed so romantic and sophisticated. Unfortunately, he was neither of those things, but he did talk a good game. He preyed on my weakness and helped my Pop prove that I really was a cheap whore. I was easy pickings for a smooth operator like Tito.

  “Tito knew I was just a kid, but that knowledge made me more appealing to him. I started skipping school and riding my bike to see him. I was only thirteen when I got pregnant. I was so naïve. I really thought he was gonna whisk me away, save me from my horrible life and we’d be thi
s happy family. Such a stupid kid…

  “Well, I’m sure you can guess how fast Tito, no last name or forwarding address, disappeared from the state. But, he didn’t vanish until he had me fully convinced that he was coming over to pick me up. All I needed to do was go get my things.

  “I rushed home, made my big announcement and my Pop pounded on me to “knock some sense into my dumb, thick, whoring skull”. He beat me senseless. I’m shocked I survived that attack, much less the baby. I didn’t leave the house for a week because my Pop didn’t want his nosy neighbors talking.

  “He confronted Aunt Angie and told her she’d have to fix this mess because she’s the one that did it. It’s not like she introduced me to Tito. In fact, I don’t even think she realized I even knew her hired handyman until she found out about my pregnancy.

  “Long story short, my Pop ordered me to stay hidden at her house. He told the truancy officer and the social workers I took off to be a cheap whore like my no-account mom.

  “I gave birth to my son, two months early and three counties over. Tucker was just seven months when he arrived. He was small and sickly.

  “My Pop was there when I had him. I knew my baby wouldn’t survive under his roof. He took one look at my son, laughed and called him a scrawny weakling. He announced we were moving because I couldn’t come back home with or without that bastard. The neighbors were already gossiping. So, he packed us up and we were leaving when I checked out of the hospital.

  “He also informed me I would have to earn triple my keep when we got where we were going because I had a whore and a weakling to feed, on top of paying him for rent to put up with the both of us. I didn’t know how I could earn my way, but I knew my Pop meant what he said. I was only fourteen, but his days of support were officially over.

  “I begged my Aunt Angie to keep Tucker with her in Mississippi. She didn’t have much money, but agreed to raise him as her son. Fortunately, I had registered under her name at the hospital. So, she’s listed as his mom on the birth certificate. Her live-in bailed on her when she brought home a sickly preemie that wasn’t even his baby.

  “That was seven years ago…

  “I try to send her money, anytime I have extra. She doesn’t have a phone, but she writes to me from time-to-time at my P.O. Box. She says Tucker is doing great, handsome and smart as a whip. She wants me to make something of myself. I promised her I wouldn’t go near alcohol or drugs or places that sell them. With two parents lounging around at the bottom of a liquor bottle, I have a huge chance of repeating their mistakes.

  “Dante knows about Tucker and the promise I made to my Aunt Angie. But, he says I’m not required to drink just because I’m sitting in a nightclub. I could have water, stay completely sober and support him. He said I’d do it if I really loved him and he’s right. The men in my life typically do turn out to be right about me…a no-good, useless, cheap whore…a worthless, unsupportive, selfish girlfriend.

  “Listen, Lester had it rough when I had to move in with Aunt Angie. My Pop turned his focus on his worthless nephew. He was supposed to be the man in charge when my Pop was out. So, in his twisted way of thinking, my pregnancy was partially Lester’s fault, too.

  “My cousin got regular beatings, but I guess they got worse when I wasn’t there. He and my Pop really do believe I’m going to college to thumb my nose at them. The only thing my cousin has to do is deliver me home. My Pop will beat me back into my place or beat the breath out of me.

  “Lester wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack to begin with. Then, he started drinking to numb the pain and things went downhill from there. He needs financial support and my Pop is a functioning alcoholic. He farmed and worked a job in Mississippi. Here, he holds two jobs even though he drinks, every day. People who know him will call you a liar if you say one bad thing against him. He’s good at hiding his drinking and the fact that he’s violent.

  “Everybody loves good old Oscar…stuck with a moron, charity case nephew and that worthless, cheap whore for a daughter…

  She took another quick sip and then, she changed the subject.

  “My friend, Jules, at the diner reminds me of my Aunt Angie. I think that’s why I hang out here so often. Sometimes, when she’s telling me a story it’s all I can do to keep from bawling. It makes me miss my Aunt Angie and Tucker…” Audrey said and finally, fell silent.

  She was red-faced from humiliation and quietly crying. I needed to do or say something to make her feel better. So, it would be my turn to reveal some of my own, personal history.

  “My birth parents were both coke-heads, when they couldn’t find any heroin. They were living in a group home together before they ran away. At some point, in-between main-lining and ingesting cocaine, my birth mom got pregnant.

  “My chemically addicted, teenaged parents were living on the streets in Atlantic City. My g-mom loves to gamble. She lost her husband, four months before taking a trip to New Jersey. She hadn’t left her house since the day of his funeral. Some friends of hers were headed to Atlantic City for a long weekend and invited her to tag along. They expected her to decline. But, she said she just couldn’t resist going.

  “On her way into the casino she was staying in, she happened to notice this homeless boy scrounging through their dumpster. He was looking for stuff to eat or sell. My g-mom bought the guy some take-out. She didn’t speak to him when she delivered it because she didn’t want to spook him. She just left the food beside the dumpster, smiled and walked away.

  “The next day, my g-mom delivered the guy breakfast, lunch and dinner. My birth mom showed up with him on day three. Her pregnancy was showing. So, g-mom brought them out enough food for three people. It continued just like that for nearly a week.

  “My g-mom checked into a suite for an undetermined amount of time. She couldn’t bring herself to leave this young, pregnant couple to starve. But, she couldn’t call Social Services to help them either. My g-mom was also raised in the foster care system. She had been abandoned at a church as a newborn. She had a couple of decent foster homes, but most weren’t so decent.

  “Her idea was to somehow, convince this young couple to go into drug treatment. Then, she would help them get their lives back on track. I have no doubt she could’ve done it, too if they were at all interested in what she had to offer. They weren’t…

  “My g-mom gained their trust through warm smiles, silence and food. She eventually managed to convince them to accompany her inside the casino to take a shower. G-mom has a close friend in Atlantic City that’s a physician. Doc agreed to make a house call and be non-threatening and discrete. It took some serious convincing, but eventually my birth parents agreed to the physical. They refused to disclose their real identities. They asked to be called Harry and Sally after two characters in an old movie. Amazingly, my birth mom was drug/alcohol free at the time of that check-up.

  “Neither one of my bio-parents mentioned what they wanted to do with their unborn baby. They asked Doc for a narcotic’s and/or Methadone script. Methadone is a synthetic form of heroin. The physician couldn’t just hand them a prescription without being able to follow up. So, Doc and g-mom offered to get Harry and Sally an apartment in a luxury treatment facility that caters to drug dependent, pregnant couples. But, like I said, they weren’t interested in getting off drugs, just getting high.

  “The physician handed them his business card and told them to call him anytime, if they change their minds. They tossed the card in the trashcan while he was still in the room.

  “Hard core drug addicts will bolt at the first sign of trouble. So, Harry and Sally were headed toward the door. My g-mom did everything in her power to get them to stay. She even offered to get them Methadone, if they would agree to live in her suite until I arrived. Not even the promise of a warm bed, food and free drugs alleviated their paranoia. They still took off and g-mom lost them at the bus terminal.

  “
Next, she called the best private investigator in the country. He agreed to fly to New Jersey, immediately. G-mom was actually headed to the airport to pick him up, when my birth dad reappeared in the alley. He had me wrapped in newspaper, naked. He told g-mom ‘his woman’ was back to using, again and he needed to take her to the hospital. Harry asked g-mom if she would take care of me for the afternoon and she readily agreed. She wrapped me in her jacket, so no one would get suspicious.

  “Her friend, Doc would give me a complete physical while g-mom went shopping. She brought me essential stuff, diapers, formula and clothes. When she returned, Doc announced I was a full-term, 6 pound, healthy infant with no drugs or alcohol in my system.

  “I’m sure you won’t be shocked to hear my bio-parents didn’t return for me. My g-mom had already paid that P.I. to track them down when she had him flown in. So, he did what he was paid to do. It took several days because no one knew my birth parent’s real names. The other street kids called them Dirty Harry and Crazy Sally. The investigator’s notes said they gave them those nicknames after they saw some old movie and all my birth parents could talk about was going on a major crime spree.

  “The P.I. found Harry, high and incoherent. Once he sobered up, the investigator asked him some questions. He secretly recorded their interview for my g-mom. I listened to that recording, once when I turned twelve.

  “Harry told the investigator that Sally had O.D.’d right after she had ‘it’ – ‘it’, meaning me. He rambled for a little while about how ‘it’ was like a black plague and a curse from hell because no matter what they did, they couldn’t get it to go away. He explained that Sally had gone to one of those free women’s clinics when she found out she was pregnant to get rid of the problem.

  “According to Harry, Sally walked out and told him, ‘…the abortion failed and there’s nothing we can do but have it and dump it, maybe in the river cuz it’s not too far away’. The investigator noted ‘probable – Sally couldn’t go through with the abortion’ because that’s the most logical assumption.

  “Anyhow, Sally gave birth in a public restroom inside a train station. It was the one closest to a legit heroin dealer, according to Harry. He said suits – meaning business people – are suckers for pregnant girls. So, he had Sally hitting up commuters for spare change with a sob story, when her water broke. He took the wad of cash from her before they ran into the restroom. He promised to find Sally a fix as soon as she got her own body back without the invasion. It didn’t take too long before the alien landed.

  “Sally didn’t look at it. She just told Harry to take it to the river and then, hurry and get her drugs. But, he saw dollar signs somewhere along the way and decided to sell it. He just couldn’t seem to figure out how to advertise a baby or what price to charge. All he knew is “suits don’t want no strings attached”. So, Harry couldn’t take me back to where Sally was because he was sure he’d get no takers.

  “The longer he tried to figure it out, the shakier he was getting. He also needed to get back to Sally. She was still bleeding in the bathroom and waiting for him to toss one problem and bring her that fix to, well, fix her other problem.

  “Harry said his mind got scrambled and his shakes were getting real bad. So, the only thing he could think of was to give me to the Alley Lunch Lady…their nickname for my g-mom, until he could locate a buyer. He hid me under his jacket on the bus ride and I didn’t make a peep. He fished the newspaper out of the Casino dumpster because he wasn’t about to give up his last, good shirt for anything.

  “Sally was in a bad way by the time Harry made it back to her. She was so weak he had to push the plunger. He said Sally didn’t use smack while she was carrying that “black demon curse”. He should’ve thought of that, but he didn’t. The stuff he brought her was too pure. She started foaming at the mouth, but he couldn’t call for help until he came down a little. He didn’t want to get arrested or mess up his buzz. Harry told Sally not to die on him, but she did it anyway. So, he carried her to some abandoned building, covered her with cardboard and drew a cross on it with crayon. Then, he used the rest of her cash to party. He claimed that’s the way she’d want it goin’ down because that’s what he’d want her to do.

  “Harry told the investigator he believed if he’d just dumped me fast, like Sally wanted, she’d still be alive. So, that’s all the proof he needed that I was nothing but a curse.

  “The investigator called my g-mom and told her about the recorded interview. Harry was yelling in the background that he was “done talking without some cash incentives”. G-mom offered to pay Harry to come back to Atlantic City long enough to sign some papers. He would only agree to come back, if she gave him a down payment and he didn’t have to see me. She instructed the P.I. to give Harry two hundred dollars and escort him back.

  “Harry had a change of heart before he got on the airplane. I figure that two hundred dollars was burning a hole in his pocket. He managed to give the P.I. the slip in the crowd. The investigator my g-mom hired is still the best P.I. in the United States. He couldn’t find Harry, again although he spent ten long years obsessively looking in between his other assignments.

  “We assume Sally is dead, just like Harry told us. There’s no record of her or trace that she even existed, anywhere. None of the Jane Does’ found ever matched her description. I guess it’s possible that Harry threw her body in the river.

  “My g-mom decided not to worry with the legalities. She simply tucked me into her life and raised her daughter. She got me a birth certificate, a passport, registered me for school, etcetera. There’s not much of anything that will stop my g-mom from getting what she wants. I’m her little girl, her daughter and I always will be. She’s my mom – period – end story.

  “So bio-mom, Sally didn’t want me, well besides wanting me out of her body. I was supposed to be aborted. Bio-dad Harry believed I was a plague, a demon curse, an alien invasion and/or a sellable item. That’s all we know about my beginnings. And, it’s not very heartwarming,” I told Audrey.

  “Do you hate your birth parents?” she asked, quietly.

  “Of course not! Harry and Sally contributed their biological resources. I’m grateful that they gave me life. I could never hate my biological donors…”

  “Did you accidentally stumble across Harry’s tape?”

  “No, g-mom has always been honest with me about where I came from. And, she agreed to let me listen to the recording when I turned twelve, if I wanted to. I didn’t cry or get upset when I heard his tale. In fact, all I felt was grateful that Harry made that bus trip and gave me to my mom,” I revealed.

  “It’s funny…I thought g-mom was your grandmother…”

  “The ‘g’ in g-mom stands for great, not grandmother, like everyone naturally assumes. I’ve called her g-mom from the moment I first learned to speak. She’s my great-mom. But, you’ll hear me refer to her as my grandmother in mixed company. It’s less confusing and easier to let people be guided by their assumptions. In reality, g-mom, Grandma Edie, Momma-C and Momma-G are my four moms. All are of the adopted variety, not the blood-relational kind.

  “Audrey, I meant it when I complimented you on your chosen family at the diner. Grandma Edie is famous for saying birth doesn’t make anyone a parent. Biology doesn’t mean that much…not to gypsies and not when it comes to the love of a real family,” I stated.

  She reached across the table and hugged me. Then, she excused herself to go wash her face. No one besides my immediate family knew about my beginnings…until now.

  I smiled to myself as I remembered the exact conversation me and g-mom had, right after I finished listening to Harry’s tape.

  “Thanks for loving me…” I had told her when I pressed stop on the recorder.

  “You don’t have to ever thank me for loving you. You’re my daughter, so nature, naturally took care of that for you. My love is just a constant, unchangeable given
…”

  “Well, okie-dokey…then, I’ll thank you for saving me that day…”

  “I can’t take much credit for that one, Bunny Baby. You were sent special delivery post-dated, through your g-daddy, Pritchard. He wasn’t here to give you to me in the flesh, so he did it through your birth parents’, Harry and Sally. But, you should never doubt, you were always our baby girl. I learned to never question Pritch about how he does things. He was my heaven-sent miracle worker and death didn’t change anything more than his location.

  “Our Bunny Baby Krista…his gift from up above…you are the biggest blessing in my life. I’ll never have another mega-sized blessing delivered to me and I’ll never want to either. That’s what makes you my specially-special one and only little Bunny Baby.

  “The four months I spent between holding Pritch in my arms and holding you were the loneliest minutes in my life. Turns out, I wasn’t only sad because I missed him, oh so much. I was also sad because my soul was still searching for you, my daughter-in-waiting. I just didn’t know that I was supposed to be looking for my little girl, until I found you.

  “I wasted four months of precious living, being sad and lonely. But, that time-sucking waste could’ve been avoided. I didn’t just stumble across Harry that day…nothing happens by chance. Pritch and the angels shoved him into my path, so I could find Sally. She was temporarily holding my baby for safe-keeping.

  “This lesson is something a beautiful newborn taught me about twelve years ago and it’s one I share, quite often. Don’t be surprised, when you discover your loved ones hidden among strangers. And don’t be surprised either, when you find what you were looking for and you didn’t know you were even searching. The Maker likes to keep us kiddos in suspense from chapter-to-chapter. It’s what keeps life interesting and keeps us moving forward. Sometimes chapters turn fast and sometimes, it might feel like the pages in our life-books are frozen solid. But, never doubt, the next page will eventually unfold and then, there’s no telling what blessings might be waiting…

  “So, beautiful baby girl of mine, which one of us should be thanking the other? After all, you saved me the same day I saved you…”