by Holt, Leah
“Jayden—” her voice had a motherly ring to it as she tilted her head and glared at me.
“Alright, I'm sorry.” Glancing at the window that looked straight into Mrs. Vicki's store, I could see her speaking with a customer and showing them the fresh donuts she had made that morning. “You know what, ask her about the apple donuts she made instead, she could talk for hours about those donuts.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Don't worry about what I'm going to do, the less you know, the better. I just need you to focus on keeping her busy.”
Blue veered her stare, tipping her head to look up at me. “You're really planning on doing this, aren't you? You're just going to go in there and steal it?”
“What? No, I explained this all ready.”
“You know you're better than this, Jayden Henry, and you know it's wrong. I don't want any part of this, not if you're just snatching it.”
“What?” Flicking my eyes around hers briefly, I looked back at the buildings, trying to keep an eye on the strip of stores. “I'm not stealing it, we're going to replace it, remember?”
“Jay, I don't—”
“I promise you, it'll be fine, she won't even notice.”
“If we get in trouble—”
Holding up my hand, I cut her off. “If we get in trouble, I'll take the fall for all of it, alright?”
Blue nodded, standing up straight and adjusting her dress. “You bet your ass.”
“Did you just. . .”
“Swear?” she asked, cocking her head over her shoulder. “Yeah, you heard me right, I might have a pastor for a father, but I know a thing or two about cuss words.” Lifting her chin higher, she ran her hands over her head, flattening her hair. “Now don't make me regret this.”
Blue looked both ways, checking for cars, then darted across the road like a very proper young lady. She held her dress down with both hands so it didn't blow up, her feet skimming across the asphalt as if she was floating.
Giving me one last look over her shoulder, I heard the bell jingle as she pulled the door open and went inside. Mrs. Vicki was behind the counter, filling the glass display with fresh desserts and pastries.
Watching from my hiding spot, I could see Blue talking and Mrs. Vicki giving her a giant smile.
We're in.
Casually, I crossed the street with my hands in my pockets, watching to see who else was around.
Bill Travers was sweeping the spiderwebs out of the corners of the sign to his hardware store. Bill was a younger guy, he moved there from Michigan and used his trust fund money to open his store. At least, that's what my father had said on one of his jealous, drunken rants.
Whether or not it was true, well I suppose only those close to him would really know. Forcing a smile, I waited for him to look at me as I approached, but he didn't even glance in my direction as I passed.
Mr and Mrs. Jones were walking up the sidewalk, heading for Katelyn's Cafe, holding hands like they were newly engaged. They were probably close to seventy, married for longer than my father was alive, and still smiling.
Mrs. Jones squeezed her husband's hand tighter as they watched their feet, strolling right by me as if I wasn't even there. Grimacing to myself, I partially stuck out my tongue in disgust at their PDA.
It was gross. Not only was it gross because girls were raunchy, smelled funny, and never made sense, but it was simply vomit worthy that they touched each other like that. I was never getting married, never having a girlfriend, never, no way in hell.
Leaning against the big glass display window, I picked up my foot and rested it against the building. Taking one last scan, it seemed like everyone was so preoccupied with themselves that I became a fly on the wall. No one noticed me, not one person. That had to be the first time in history that no one glanced at me, warily observant of what I was doing.
This is perfect. It's like I'm invisible.
Pushing open the door, the bell jingled softly and Mrs. Vicki took a moment to look beyond Blue. “Good morning, Mr. Henry.” Giving me a smile, she pursed her lips as she spoke. “Let's not go making a mess of things like we did last week, alright?”
“Good morning, and don't worry, I won't. I'm just looking for something for my sister.”
Her smile thinned as her eyes went back to my accomplice. Blue didn't even flinch, no stumble, no waiver, nothing. She looked at me just like anyone would if their conversation was interrupted by a stranger.
Roaming through the isles, I picked up random items, pretending to read the back as if I was interested. Watching the front counter, I moved deeper into the bakery, trying not to draw attention to myself.
Mrs. Vicki knew me fairly well, but I wasn't sure if she ever really knew I was the one with sticky fingers. Every so often she'd let me sweep for some extra money, or I'd wash the windows and dust. I think she was one of the few who felt bad for me, so I took advantage of her weakness. I let her pity me, I accepted her offerings, and I used her when I wanted to.
Does that make me a bad person?
Does it really matter?
Ignoring the brief battle of good verses evil, I shook my head and focused on how I was going to hide the small pie under my shirt.
Blue was pointing at something on the bottom of the glass display, which forced Mrs. Vicki to bend down, placing me out of her line of sight. Taking one last, quick look, I snatched an apple pie and started for the front of the store.
“Thanks, but you don't have what she wants,” I barked as I made a beeline for the door and threw it open with one arm.
I had no clue if Mrs. Vicki said anything back to me or not, all I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins, causing my muscles to shake and my stomach to clench.
Running straight across the street, I didn't even bother looking. A loud horn blared in my right ear, causing me to trip over my feet and almost fall. Catching my balance I waved in apology at the driver and kept moving.
He didn't care that I was a kid, he gave me the middle finger and grumbled a few choice words out his window.
Reaching the small alleyway, I caught my breath and peeked out from around the corner to see if anyone was pointing in my direction or waving Mrs. Vicki down.
Nothing. . . This really is a good day.
Watching Blue, she gave Mrs. Vicki a smile, handing her a few dollars. Cocking a brow, I was trying to figure out what was happening. Mrs. Vicki passed Blue a brown paper bag, returning an even larger smile as Blue turned and walked out the door.
Stopping at the edge of the street, she waited for the cars to go by then jogged across the road. Her lips were turned up into this huge grin as she swung the bag back and forth at her side.
“What is that?” I asked as she rounded the corner.
“What?” lifting the bag, she asked, “This?”
“Yes that. You actually bought something?”
“Of course I bought something. Why wouldn't I?”
“Because that wasn't in the plan.” Holding out the small apple pie in my hand, I snapped. “This is what we were there for.”
Blue glared at me, dropping her chin into her chest. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a handful of individual bubblegum pieces. “I bought fifty cents worth of Bazooka Joe, I was planning on sharing it with you. but, if you're going to be a jerk, I'll just save them for myself.”
“You ruined it, you ruined everything.” Frowning, I gripped the box tight in my hand.
“Oh yeah. . .” she said, throwing her hand to her hip. “How did I ruin everything? You got what you went in for.”
“So what? You didn't follow the plan”
“Fine, give me my half of the pie then, and I'll go.”
“Your half? Why would you even think I'd share this with you?”
“Because I earned it.” Lunging forward, Blue snagged the other side of the box. Giving it a hard tug, her brows dropped angrily. “I did what you asked, now share.”
<
br /> Jerking the box back in my direction, I growled. “No way! You wanted to spend money, you should have bought one then.”
“I offered to,” she said through gritted teeth, yanking on the pie. “You said no.”
“We had a plan, and it didn't involve your charity.”
“Give it!” she yelled, yanking it back into her chest.
Back and forth, back and forth, we both tore at the pie. Our eyes were fixed on each other, our lips snarling like wild animals. Blue was only angry because I was angry, and I honestly wasn't even sure why I was so angry.
But that was all I felt in that moment. I felt angry that she had money to buy gum, I was pissed that she had taken my plan and added to it without telling me first. Looking back on it now, it was silly and ridiculous, but as kids you only know and feel what was happening in the moment.
And right then I was ticked with her.
Children don't think with wide eyes, they think with tunnel vision, they get fixated on themselves and only themselves. And then they explode, they throw a hissy-fit and take everything personal.
I felt betrayed, as if she had plotted out that small detail without me just to make me upset.
“Fine, take it,” I barked, releasing the pie from my hands.
The box top split open, causing the pie to fly out from its cradle and smash into her dress. Blue stood with her arms out, staring down at the mess of sliced apples and crust mush.
Cocking her mouth to the side, she dragged her finger through the pie guts and stuck it in her mouth, licking it clean. “That is delicious.” Arching a single brow, she used her fingers to scoop up another chunk and eat it. “You were right, this is amazing.”
Chuckling lightly, I watched a smile spread on her face as she began to laugh too. Using two fingers, she scooped up another chunk and grabbed my hand, slapping it inside. “Here, I don't want to eat what's left all by myself.” Her eyes went to the ground, looking down at the rest of the fallen dessert. “Unless you want to eat that?”
Sucking my fingers clean, I was still laughing. “It's good, but not that good.”
And just like that, our fight was over, our friendship bubble had been restored and we were able to crack jokes about our smashed pie the rest of the afternoon.
Standing at the edge of her field, Blue did her best to wipe as much of the crusty stain off her dress as she could.
“You're not going to get in trouble for getting dirty, are you?” I asked, running my hand through my hair and feeling pretty bad about messing up her clothes.
“Nah, it's fine. I have plenty of other dresses.”
Twisting my toe into the dirt, I nodded. “That's good. I'll see ya tomorrow then?”
“Of course!” she yipped excitedly, throwing out a hand and smacking my shoulder. “I know what we're going to do too. Can you come here around ten?”
“Yeah, why? What do you want to do?”
“You'll see.” Blue gave me smile, turning and skipping off through the tall grass. Reaching her front porch, she waved.
Waving back, I watched her as she disappeared inside. My eyes moved over the windows, catching her father as he glared down at me from the big picture window. There was a look in his eyes, one that I wouldn't expect from a man of the lord, but was perfectly acceptable of a father looking out for his daughter.
Our eyes connected, and it was easy to see that he wasn't happy his little girl was hanging out with the town bad boy. Dropping my eyes to the ground, I stuffed my hands into my pockets, and kicked the dirt as I followed the edge of her property, dipping into the tree line once I was out of view of her house.
Through the thick forest, I climbed over and through bushes, some with long sharp thorns and others that just tickled the skin of my shins. I could see the lights of my house, so I stopped and listened.
Everything sounded quiet, the silence so thick I could feel it climb down my neck and back. Silence might be a good thing to some, it might even mean that all was well behind those walls. I wasn't so at ease with it.
Silence could mean a lot of things at my house. None of which were ever good.
Walking into the backyard, I peeked in the window by the side door, but I couldn't see anything. Listening cautiously, all I could hear were crickets. Crickets by the door, crickets under the house, crickets chirping all around me.
Slowly, I pulled the storm door open, sticking my head in and looking around. There was a half eaten loaf of Italian bread on the stove, and empty beer bottles scattered over the counter. Some were tipped over, spilling out the backwash and remnants onto the linoleum floor.
I could smell them from where I stood. The grainy scent of yeast turned my stomach. Swallowing the vomit that crept up the back of my throat, I took a step into the house.
Making sure I set my foot down on one of the wood planks that didn't creak, I held the door as it shut so it didn't slam. Stepping on the tips of my toes, I carefully walked through the kitchen and started for the stairs.
Almost there, almost there, a few more steps—
I didn't make it. . .
In one quick swoop, my father grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me backwards. “Where ya been, boy?” I smelled his breath first, the hot stench of stale beer and cigarettes. “You been out with that little rich girl again?”
“Why?” I asked, tensing up my muscles as I felt his nails scrape the back of my neck. “What do you care?”
“What do I care? You were suppose to do your chores.” His lips grazed the curve of my ear as he swayed in his drunken-stooper.
“I did them this morning.”
Jerking me back, he clutched my shirt harder, pulling me in closer. “You ain't getting smart with me, are ya, boy?”
“No.” Breathing in slowly through my nose, I caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of my eyes.
Shit, Bethany.
My little sister was sitting at the top of the stairs, positioned behind the sharp edge of the wall. I could only see one of her eyes and a little bit of her hair as she leaned over.
Letting out a deep breath, my father pressed his cheek to mine. “Sounds like you're getting smart with me. Sounds like you think you're in charge.”
“Bethany's up, Dad.”
“I don't give a shit. This isn't about her, it's about you. I'm in charge here—me, and only me. Not you. If I say you didn't finish your fucking chores, then you didn't finish them.” Curling his fingers around my neck, he squeezed firmly. “You hear me? You understand what I'm telling you?”
“Go to your room, Beth.” I tried to speak calmly, making sure my voice didn't shake or grow too cold. “Go on, it's alright.”
My eyes connected with hers, her big brown eyes blinked once as she ducked back, barely visible in her hiding spot. She didn't look like she was about to cry, she looked like she was frozen with fear.
“Dad—”
SMACK
His hand whipped across the back of my head as he threw me forward. Stumbling, I gripped my skull as I turned to face him. I didn't say another word, because at that point it didn't matter, he wasn't going to hear me.
Stalking forward, my father threw slaps and punches, his large, abrasive hands flying through the air and landing in any place he could strike. He wasn't exactly steady on his feet, his steps were wobbly and uneven, his body rocking as he tried to keep his balance. But his fists worked fine, his muscles still strong and rigid.
I didn't fight him back, there was no point. I was too small to do anything, and if I tried, it would only make him more ticked off, causing him to strike harder and with more precision.
So, I did the only thing I could, I dropped to the ground and curled into a ball to protect myself from the bear. Except, I couldn't take my eyes off my little sister. I wanted her to see I was alright, that I would be fine, that no amount of pain would destroy her big brother.
Bethany would jolt with every hit, her gasps light as her eyes grew wider. She had seen my father hit me b
efore, but this wasn't a normal beating.
This was the alcohol, this was his rage, this was his jealousy and ego that was fueling his fists. This was a culmination of me slowly becoming a man, someone who might challenge him, someone who could try and knock him off his rock.
He hated me, he hated the farm, he hated his life, and there was nothing I could do to help make it better except be his punching bag.
With my eyes on my sister, I felt my father's knuckles as they connected with the side of my head, forcing it deep into the floor. And then there was nothing.
I saw an empty black hole. I heard crying. I smelled hate.
And as I sat stagnant in this weird dimension of awareness and dreaming, I knew I wasn't going to stay, not forever. He could only have me for so long, long enough for me to make sure my sister was alright.
Then I'd be gone.
Chapter Four
Jayden
Knock Knock Knock
The door at the back of the house shook as someone hit it loudly. Lifting my head off the couch, it felt like a train had run over my skull. My brain felt like it was literally pulsing beneath the bone, and my eyes were swollen so badly I couldn't open them all the way without a struggle.
Have you ever had pink eye? Pink eye that was so bad when you opened your eyes there was a crusty film you had chip away at to even crack the lids a hair?
That was my eyes, and all I wanted to do was keep them shut because it took less effort than holding them open.
Knock Knock Knock
Listening for movement, I expected to hear my father's heavy work boots as he came pissed off down the stairs to answer the door.
Nothing.
Silence, pure silence.
There was no thumping of feet, or the patter of my little sister as she ran from room to room. I didn't hear any muffled voices or my father as he yelled down for me to get up off my ass and open the door. Just silence.
Looking at the clock, it was already eleven in the morning. He's gone, I thought to myself as I pushed up onto my elbows and pressed my feet into the floor. My father had already left, probably headed into town after dropping my sister off with the neighbor, and outside the bar waiting for it to open.
