Wishing for Someday Soon final copy 3

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Wishing for Someday Soon final copy 3 Page 13

by Tiffany King


  As December approached, Kevin became ecstatic when Jim and Lucinda began to get into the holidays like never before. We even arrived home from school one mid-December day to see our very first Christmas tree standing in the corner of the trailer, surrounded by presents.

  “What’s this?” I asked, completely floored.

  “Jim’s been getting a lot of extra bonuses at work, so we figured we’d have fun this year. Why, do you have a problem with that?” she asked, sounding annoyed.

  “No, it’s just we never have before,” I said, not bothering to point out all the Christmases and birthdays we had gone without.

  “Well, obviously if I could have, I would have,” Lucinda said, clearly aggravated with me.

  “I know, Mom, I think it’s great,” I replied, trying to appease her.

  “I just don’t know about you sometimes, Katelyn. You can be such a bitch.”

  “I know, Mom, I’m sorry,” I said truthfully. I knew Lucinda hated to have her faults pointed out to her.

  I headed to my room before the issue escalated, kicking myself the entire time for saying anything in the first place. I could still hear her grumbling about my selfishness as I closed my bedroom door.

  The next day we arrived home to see that the presents had multiplied from the day before. Of course, most of them were for Lucinda, but I was pleased to see that Kevin had his fair share too. My pile was the smallest, but that was to be expected since I had picked a fight the day before. Kevin was over the moon when he saw his gifts and would spend hours each afternoon just staring at the pile.

  The pile of Christmas presents continued to grow with each passing day as if Lucinda was trying to prove something. As excited as I was at the thought of having our first ever normal Christmas, I began to worry about where all the extra money was coming from. Lucinda didn’t work, and I knew that Jim wasn’t making very much money as a day laborer. Of course, questioning Lucinda would mean opening up a can of worms I just didn’t want to deal with.

  The week before Christmas break was supposed to start, Kevin and I came home to a distraught Lucinda.

  “What happened?” I asked, closing the door behind us as Lucinda sobbed on the couch.

  “Jim-m-m is in-n-n jai-l-l,” she said in between her hiccupping sobs.

  “Kevin, go to your room,” I said.

  “Why?” I asked Lucinda once I heard Kevin’s door close.

  “Because-e-e he-e-e was stealing-g-g copper wiring from his job.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked incredulously.

  “Don’t you judge him,” Lucinda said as her sobs cutoff abruptly.

  “Don’t judge him?” I asked, feeling the anger rise inside me. “What was he thinking? How are we going to pay the bills if he’s in jail?” I added, pointing out the obvious.

  “He wanted to give your selfish ass a nice Christmas,” she said, rising to her feet.

  “Bullshit, he was just being greedy!” I said, completely disgusted at the situation.

  “What did you say, you little shit?” Lucinda snarled, enraged with all grief gone from her face. She struck me in the chest before I could defend myself. I dropped to my knees with the wind knocked out of me. Her next blow was with the coffee cup that had been sitting empty on the table. She swung back and hit me across the side of my head, making the room spin out of control as blinding pain gripped my skull. I curled up in a ball, trying to protect myself from her rage that burned out of control, showering me with one blow after another. When her hands began to fall feebly, she resorted to kicking me as her anger reached a climax. Time lost all meaning as I let my mind float away, becoming numb to the beating I was taking. I willed myself to find my happy place, which had changed over the years to suit my age. For a long time it centered on Kevin and me being free from this madness, but recently it had changed to include Max. His image was never hard for me to remember and I allowed myself to sink into his arms as the trailer and Lucinda faded away.

  I woke sometime later, unaware of how much time had passed. A deathly pale Kevin was holding my hand, crying silently when I finally opened my eyes.

  “Where’s Lucinda?” I asked groggily.

  “She left a while ago. I was so scared, I couldn’t wake you up,” he said.

  “You couldn’t?” I asked, sitting up. My stomach dropped at my movements. I lurched to my feet and rushed to the bathroom as my stomach released its contents. I rested my head weakly against the side of the sink. I groaned as a sharp stabbing pain shot through from the top of my head and traveled down my body. I reached up to touch the sensitive spot with my fingertips and was dismayed when they came back sticky with blood.

  “Kevin, can you hand me a wet rag?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even so I wouldn’t alarm him.

  He nodded his head and grabbed the washcloth from the shower. He kept his eyes firmly on me as he anxiously wet the rag.

  He handed it to me still dripping wet, but I didn’t complain.

  “Kevin, I think I have a concussion,” I said after I washed the blood away as much as I could.

  “What does that mean?” he asked frightened.

  “It means my head is sick.”

  “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  “I don’t think so, but I have a very important job for you.”

  “What is it?” He asked, standing up taller.

  “I need you to make sure I don’t fall asleep again. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure exactly, but I know from watching TV shows they always talk about how you shouldn’t fall asleep.”

  “Is it bad that you already fell asleep?” Kevin asked worriedly.

  “I don’t think so, bud. Why don’t we go to my room and we can read some more of ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.’”

  “Does your head hurt too much to read?”

  “I was going to let you read to me. You’re reading skills put mine to shame anyway,” I added, making him flush at my praise.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious. If I was half the reader you are when I was nine, I’d be a genius.”

  “You think so?” He asked as we settled in on my bed.

  “Of course I do, champ, you’re one smart guy.”

  “I don’t feel all that smart sometimes in class.”

  “That’s not your fault, bud. It’s because we’ve moved so much and missed so much school. If we never moved you’d be running circles around the other kids with your grades.”

  “Katelyn, I wish it was someday soon now.”

  “Me too,” I said, saddened at how defeated he sounded.

  “Someday soon, it will be just us,” he said, opening up his book where we had previously left off. “Well, Max too, if you want,” he added, mentioning Max for the first time in weeks.

  I could tell by the look he shot me he had been giving this a great deal of thought. I was amazed that even at nine he had a firm grasp of what was going on.

  “I think that ship has sailed,” I said, trying to make a joke of it.

  “Nah, I saw the way he looked at you. He loves you.”

  “Very funny, we hardly knew each other. How would you know about that anyway?”

  “Did you love him?”

  I debated avoiding his question before I finally answered it honestly. “I think it was too early for love, but I liked him more than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

  “Even me?” Kevin asked seriously.

  “No, bud, I could never like anyone more than you,” I answered, reassuring him.

  “More than Mom?” he persisted.

  “Yeah, more than Mom. Come on, stop stalling and read,” I said before the conversation went any deeper. It was one thing for me to feel nothing for Lucinda, but I didn’t want to influence Kevin in that way. It was up to him how he wanted to feel.

  Taking my hint, Kevin began to read. I was amazed at how much his fluency had increased since our move here and only
had to help him occasionally with the harder words.

  “Mom’s like Harry’s aunt and uncle,” Kevin said as we took a break to munch on some sandwiches he had made for our dinner.

  “Nah, at least she doesn’t make us sleep in a broom closet.”

  “Yeah, but she does treat us badly,” he said after swallowing a bite of his sandwich.

  “That’s true. Hmm, maybe our letters to Hogwarts will arrive any day now,” I teased.

  “That would rock,” Kevin said before going into a whole tirade about how cool it would be to live in the castle and be able to eat good food all the time.

  We read through the night and Kevin was my hero as he made sure to shake me awake each time my eyes drifted closed. Lucinda strolled in sometime after midnight, but neither Kevin nor I made a move to leave my room. By six a.m. I finally felt it was safe for me to fall asleep, so Kevin and I fell into an exhausted slumber and slept through the entire day. We both woke at dinnertime, and I made us both something easy since my head was still pounding like a drum. Once our bellies were full, we both headed back to bed and slept through the rest of the night.

  Sunday morning Lucinda was awake when I stumbled out to the living room to get myself something to drink. I saw her take in my appearance, pausing at my head which had dried blood caked throughout the strands of hair where the wound had bled while I slept. She didn’t acknowledge me other than her stare, and I followed suit. I was used to the silent treatment. If Lucinda lashed out at me because she was mad at someone else, she was usually remorseful the next day. If she lashed out at me because I had defied her, she would spend several days afterwards giving me the silent treatment until I apologized.

  I headed to the bathroom to clean up with my drink in hand. My reflection in the mirror told the whole story. With dried blood throughout my hair and down my neck, I looked like I had stepped out of some horror movie. Reaching in to start the shower, I gasped when I saw rust colored water inside the tub.

  “MOM!” I yelled, forgetting she was giving me the silent treatment. “MOM!”

  “What?” she said, obviously aggravated I had interrupted her vow of silence.

  “There’s something wrong with the shower,” I said, pointing at the inch high smelly water that sat in the tub.

  Without saying anything, she twisted the knob at the sink, but nothing came out.

  “Did we not pay the water bill?” I asked confused.

  “No, the pipes are frozen.”

  “Get out, seriously?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it happened when we lived in Colorado when you were a baby.”

  “What do we do? Do you need to call the landlord?”

  “Um, no,” she said, heading out of the bathroom.

  “Why not?” I asked, sensing she was hiding something from me. “I’m sure he’d send someone out to fix it,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Because, Miss Know-It-All, we still owe this month’s rent,” she said, stomping down the hall.

  “Are we going to pay it?” I asked, thinking I was playing with fire again.

  “Not unless you have some hidden stash of money I don’t know about,” she said in a snarky voice as she sat on the couch and lit up another cigarette.

  “I thought we didn’t have to pay rent here for a while?” I asked, grasping at straws.

  “It was for two months,” she said, taking a long draw on her cigarette. “God, Katelyn, stop being a worrywart, we’ve been in worse situations than this. They’ll release Jim on Monday, and he’ll find another job.”

  I sat down heavily on the coffee table, trying to digest her words. “What do we do about the pipes?” I finally asked as she stubbed out her cigarette.

  “Nothing we can do. You need to run over and get a plunger from the grocery store, so we can take care of the mess in the tub. I’d stop at the gas station first to clean up if I were you,” she said, not taking responsibility for the blood that caked my hair.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled, standing up.

  I woke Kevin once I returned to my room so he could go with me to the gas station to use the bathroom.

  “Why do we have to pee there?” Kevin asked as we pulled our heavy coats on.

  “Because the pipes are frozen here,” I said. “Frozen pipes mean no water, which means no water to flush a toilet,” I added, pulling his hat down over his ears.

  “Can’t I just pee outside?” he asked logically.

  “You could, but I figured we might as well brush our teeth and wash up so we both don’t have to do it later,” I said, holding up the bag of toiletries I had packed.

  “Grrr, I thought we wouldn’t have to use gas station bathrooms as long as we lived here,” he grumbled, pulling on his gloves.

  “I know pal, me too. Such is our life, though.”

  Kevin trailed behind me, still grumpy about leaving the somewhat warmth of the trailer. I opened the door and gasped as a frigid breeze blew through the door.

  “Holy crapinoli, it’s cold out here,” Kevin grumbled as we walked against the breeze.

  “Let’s hurry,” I said, agreeing with him. I grasped his hand, dragging him along as we fought the wind that seemed hell-bent on pushing us back.

  “Katelyn, it’s too cold,” Kevin complained through chattering teeth as we approached the small intersection.

  “We’re almost there,” I said loudly over the howling wind and swirling snow that was being blown recklessly around our faces.

  Kevin slipped right after we stepped into the road. The momentum of his fall dragged me down and made me land smartly on my backside.

  I struggled to catch my breath as Kevin started to giggle beside me.

  “Not funny, punk,” I said, trying to rise without slipping again. “We’re in the middle of the road,” I scolded him, trying to be the mature one.

  “Hehehe, not like it matters,”” he said, still laughing. “We’re the only stupid ones out here,” he said, indicating the deserted roads.

  He had a point. The wind had blown the snow into huge drifts in some areas while other areas were left completely barren and not a single soul was around. If not for the light shining behind the ice-covered window of the gas station with Old Man Wither behind the counter, I would have believed we were the only people left on Earth.

  “Well, it doesn’t mean we should hang out in the middle of the road like buffoons,” I said, dragging him the rest of the way across the street.

  Old Man Wither, as everyone liked to call him, greeted us with astonishment as we burst through the door, anxious to escape the treacherous conditions outside. “What in the blazes are you youngsters doing out there?” he asked, coming around the counter to see us.

  “Our pipes froze,” Kevin said, scurrying off to use the bathroom.

  “Frozen pipes? That’s a tough one. Did you folks forget to leave a tap running?” he asked, pouring a tall cup of hot chocolate and handing it to me.

  “Oh no, I can’t,” I said, trying to decline the beverage.

  “It’s on the house, young lady. You young’uns shouldn’t be out in this weather. I told Meryl not to even come in today.”

  “So, if you run water your pipes won’t freeze?” I asked, returning to his earlier question.

  “Most times it works,” he said, leaning back against a waist-high soda cooler that sat in the middle of the floor. “Hey, that’s a pretty nasty cut you have on your head there,” he added, studying me intently.

  “Um, yeah, I tripped and hit it on the coffee table,” I lied, mentally kicking myself for neglecting to pull my hood up over my head.

  “I’m sure. I had plenty of those injuries myself when I was growing up,” he said, looking at me knowingly.

  “She thinks she had a concassion,” Kevin said, closing the bathroom door behind him.

  “Concussion,” I corrected him, wishing he’d kept that information to himself.

  “Did you blackout?” Old Man Wither asked.

  I nodded my head. “For a few
minutes.”

  “Sick to your stomach?” He asked, stepping closer to inspect my wound.

  I nodded my head again.

  “Yep, sounds like you gave yourself a fine one,” he said, gently probing at my head. “Young man,” he said, looking at Kevin. “I keep a first aid kit behind the counter. Can you grab it for me?”

  “Sure,” Kevin asked, delighted to help out.

  “Really, I’m fine,” I started to protest.

  “I’m sure you are, missy, but an injury like this needs to be taken care of, unless you rather I run you up to the hospital,” he said, making his point clear.

  “No, that’s okay,” I replied, stepping closer so he could see my injury better.

  “Kevin, grab me a bottle of water too from that stack over there,” he said, pointing to a display of water sitting off to the side of the counter.

  I watched as he opened the first aid kit and removed a large gauze pad. Using his teeth, he tore the corner off the package and extracted the sterile pad. He used the water to douse the pad before gently applying it to my head.

  My eyes watered as the pad touched the injury.

  “I know it stings, but we need to see what we’re dealing with,” he said, cleaning the area as gently as possible. “Looks like you could use some stitches,” he said, studying my head critically. “You sure you don’t want me to run you up to the county hospital?”

  “I’m sure,” I said earnestly, looking at Kevin possessively.

 

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