Spilled Milk: Based on a true story

by Randis, K. L

  “All right.” He grabbed my hand and pushed me through the crowd. We didn’t stop until we got to his truck and he let me inside and locked the doors.

  My heart was thrashing against my chest. “I’m sorry Judd. I’m sorry.” I put my hand up to my mouth and tears formed around my eyes. It seemed like I was always on the verge of a breakdown.

  “Hey no, no, it’s okay. We can go to my house.” He grabbed the back of my jeans by the belt and pulled me over to him. I put my head on his shoulder and let the motion of his truck rock me to sleep as we drove into the countryside.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The nightmares started almost immediately after Earl was gone. Several of them would wake me from my sleep screaming, and with others I would wake up sobbing uncontrollably. Sometimes I could remember them, other times I pushed them from my mind and took a steaming shower at three in the morning to relax. The body twitches were the worst. My arms and legs would fight to keep me awake to avoid the nightmares. My limbs would spastically jolt before I would become so exhausted sleep would find me.

  Midge told me she was sorry my Mom couldn’t understand the trauma I was revisiting every time I stepped into the house. “She changed those sheets… and expect you to sleep soundly like nothing happened?”

  The chair I chose most often was seated right next to Midge now, and I shook my head confirming her statement.

  “I’m sorry child. You found something that triggers you, and unfortunately you can’t help with other people do. No ma’m. The only thing you can change is yo’self.”

  “The only way I’d feel safe is if I wasn’t there. But I’m only sixteen. I mean I work, but I don’t know what I would do, where I would go.”

  “Do you have a friend you can stay with? Family maybe?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t know anyone’s parents that would let me stay long term like that. Gina would, but Paul and I weren’t even on speaking terms, never mind attempting to become roommates.

  Midge got up from her leather chair and headed to a small bookcase adjacent to her desk. “I want to give you some information. I know you like readin’ so you go ahead and read it.” She placed a white packet in my hand. “It’s about emancipation. You know what that is?”

  Midge has taught me so many things about myself and other people over the past year. I didn’t know how I could ever repay her. She told me the day I walked into her office and told her I had finally told a family member about the abuse was payment enough. “I thought you was going to take that one to the grave, I did.”

  “Emancipation of a minor is when you become your own parent. Your mom won’t be responsible for you no more, but you would need to prove you can support yourself, have a place to stay and take care of things like your school.”

  “All right, so why don’t I just do that?”

  “It’s a long process sometimes. You have to file a petition with the family court, and your mom might try’n fight it. The judge does whatever’s in the best interest of the child. It’s not easy to get, sometimes when a child’s been abused it makes it easier, but not always. Depends on your judge an’ what they think.”

  “I can’t stay there anymore, Midge. You know I walked into the bathroom the other day and saw the toothpaste sitting on the counter…” My gaze trailed off somewhere behind Midge as I remembered the panic attack that ensued. “I thought I was going to die. My heart nearly came through my chest. Just from looking at a bottle of toothpaste. Why?”

  “Child, listen to me.” Midge clasped her hands over mine. “This is a long road you’re headed down. You did a mighty brave thing for you and your siblings. Mighty brave. But now you need to focus on you. You gonna find out what triggers you, what upsets you, and it’s gonna bring back memories. Sometimes good, but mostly bad. Ain’t nothing you can do about that. What you can do, is figure out why it’s happenin’ and make sure you have those coping skills to beat it. You hear me? Now, don’t focus on the fact the toothpaste made you have the anxiety, think deeper.” She pointed to my heart. “Why you think that made you upset as it did?”

  The toothpaste was always in the bathroom. It’s never changed. It was an upright white canister that dispensed two different kinds of toothpaste. It never changed.

  “It never changed.” I looked up at Midge, smiling. “The toothpaste never changed. Earl always bought the same kind. When I saw it, it made me think of him.”

  Midge nodded and winked at me. “There ya go, you found your trigger. Now you jus’ gotta work on coping with it.”

  I read over the packet several times in the next few days. Ethan lay on my bed pulling at my hair with a toy brush as I highlighted some important parts. He was two already. The thought of leaving him was my biggest hurdle but Midge was right. I had to start focusing on myself and my healing if I was ever going to be any kind of functional adult.

  The suitcase I dragged from the basement smelled musty. Mom followed me up the stairs half panicking and half in tears. “Brooke you can’t just leave. We changed that whole room around for you, your Aunt spent a lot of money. What would she think?”

  “I’m sorry Mom, it’s not enough.” If I was going to leave, I would have to do it fast and with minimal talking to avoid conflict.

  “You’re only sixteen! Where are you going to live, huh?” She watched me put a pair of jeans into the suitcase. “I’ll just call the police. I’ll tell them you ran away and they’ll bring you back to me.”

  The packet Midge gave me was in Mom’s hands. I had anticipated a remark like that from her so I regurgitated what I practiced in my head. “You can’t, Mom. I’m emancipated. Since I was abused the court considers me emancipated, which means I am my own dependant now. I have a job, and a car, and a place to go. I don’t need your permission. Call Heather if you want, she’ll tell you.”

  It was a risky lie. The packet showed that emancipation procedures could take months or years to decide upon. I didn’t have that kind of time.

  The nightmares were increasingly vivid and the tension between Mom and I walked a fine line between uncomfortable and hostile. She felt I owed her something for taking the bread winner out of the house, and I felt she had no right to blame me for the financial mess she found herself in since I told. She could no longer afford the house with her social security disability checks and she refused to downgrade in a house.

  She stared at the white packet in her hands and shook it at me. “How could you do this to me? You’re just going to leave, run away from your problems? How will that solve anything? What about us?”

  My mom and siblings refused to go to the Women in Crisis center I told them about. Mom was shocked to find I had been going there for over a year. I never told her Gina brought me. The services were free, and the healing couldn’t just be on my end. Everyone was going to be dealing with a lot of anguish. It was unfair for Mom to ask me to support her and my siblings when I needed time to heal myself.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” I reached over and kissed her cheek. “I need to do this for me.”

  After long weeks of sleepless nights, I decided that sleeping in my car would be more favorable than having to live in a house I could only see myself being tortured in.

  A local gym hired me to work a few hours a week which gave me a place to spend time and shower when I needed to. I had plenty of friends I could bounce around between when the temperatures would dip too low for me to sleep in my car and since I got free breakfast and lunch through school I only had to worry about dinner. Most of the time I was working at the telemarketing job anyway and would get a hoagie or stromboli from the pizza shop next door. I felt guilty and gave Mom almost all of my paycheck each week, but I needed to save for my own place too.

  My cavalier coasted down the driveway and I pulled a pair of sunglasses on as I headed towards Cristin’s house. She was thrilled I was going to sleep at her house for a few school nights and assumed my new carefree schedule was Mom’s attempt to win me over.

  “My dad
did that when my parents divorced. I could ask him for anything and he felt so guilty about not living at home I would always get what I wanted,” Cristin said.

  “Do you want second’s dear?” My plate was smothered in chicken, penne pasta and spinach. I nodded with a mouth full of food. “No thank you Mrs. Vanderport.”

  “Miss Vanderport. Miss, Miss. Not a Mrs. anymore.” She twirled through the kitchen in an ocean blue mini dress and popped out her hip. “What do you think girls, think I could meet Mr. Right in this?”

  “Ugh, Mom. Go away.” Cristin waved her hand at her mom. “Where are you guys going anyway?”

  “Not sure.” She mumbled through the bobby pins sticking out of her mouth. “I’ll be home late though, don’t wait up. Bed early, you girls have school tomorrow.”

  Cristin’s phone rang within minutes of her mom leaving. “Talk to me.” She cradled the phone against her shoulder. “Mmm yep. Dustin’s picking us up, so we’ll be there around ten. All right? Yep. Bye.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Party tonight. You know the guy I’ve been seeing, pizza parlor guy?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, can’t keep up.”

  “Anyway, he’s having some people over in the backroom of the pizza place after they close. The managers gave him a key.”

  “That a good idea?”

  “Oh yea, do it all the time.” Cristin shoved a piece of biscuit into her mouth. “Let’s get ready. Dustin will be here in an hour to get us.”

  I only recognized two people when we walked into the backroom of the pizza parlor. About twenty or so faces turned in our direction when we pushed through the double kitchen doors. Cristin threw her arms around a girl I didn’t know and they disappeared into another back room. I made my way around the kitchen making small talk with one person who looked vaguely familiar from my home economics class.

  Cristin disappeared and reappeared all night, and I started to worry about where she went sometime after one in the morning. Making my way towards the back door I was engulfed in a plume of smoke.

  The kitchen was on fire and Cristin was nowhere in sight. A sea of people blocked my way and I pushed through them, following the smoke. There was a bright Exit sign above a back door and I flung it open to catch Cristin laughing away surrounded by a group of people.

  Embarrassed that I had mistaken it for a fire, I inhaled and watched the joint get passed around. When it got to Cristin she couldn’t even stand up enough to keep it in-between her lips. She squealed when we saw me and pushed a much older guy aside to give me a hug. Her breath reeked like alcohol.

  “Cristin, you’re drinking and lighting up?”

  “Yaaaa man come on, I’ll get you some.”

  I held a hand up as the joint was passed to me. “That’s okay. We need to get home.”

  A dark haired guy who was standing near Cristin earlier protested. “Ah come on, we just got here. Need to chill a little, ya know?”

  I ignored him and led Cristin by the hand to find our ride home. Dustin was standing at one of the kitchen counters with two other guys in track jackets. He downed a shot of Jack Daniels as I tugged on his sleeve.

  “Dustin, come on we gotta go. Her mom’ll be home soon.”

  Eyes half closed he pointed at Cristin. “Heyyy you sloppy mess. You need’a go home?” He wiped a dribble of Jack that missed his mouth. “Mmk. Lesss go.”

  I squeezed Cristin’s hand when we got outside and Dustin reached into his pocket for his keys. “We can’t get in the car with him. He’s wasted, look at him.”

  Cristin strained her eyes. “Ohh nah, he’s okay. He does this allllll the time.” She waved her hand above her head in the shape of a rainbow. “No problem.”

  “I’m not getting in the car with him.” I stopped in front of her and crossed my arms. Was she serious about letting this guy drive us home?

  “Ah, come on Brooke. He’s good. Look. He’s good.”

  Dustin dropped his keys on the pavement in front of him and cursed.

  Cristin stared. “All right, maybe ask him if you can drive.”

  “Me drive? I don’t even know this guy.” Dustin reached into his pockets to try to find the keys that were already in his hands. I shook my head. “Hey, Dustin. Let me drive okay?”

  He squinted at me and brushed the blond hair from his face. “Ah no, it’s cool. I got it.”

  Talking to either of them was getting me nowhere. I wasn’t about to play mind games for the next two hours.

  “Give me the keys.” I held out my hand. “You’re not fine, you’re not driving. I haven’t had anything to drink.” Cristin giggled beside me. “Or smoke. Don’t be stupid.”

  Dustin smirked when I called him stupid and ruffled my hair. “All right little warrior, go for it. Don’t wreck my car man, I love this car.”

  Within two miles Dustin was passed out cold in the backseat. “See Cristin?” I peered through the mirror. “He’s out cold. What would have happened if he was driving?”

  Cristin huffed as she turned around. “Oh wowww. He never does that, I swear it. He’s like the best drunk driver I know.”

  “You’ve done this before?” My voice rose.

  “See Brooke that’s why you’re better than me. That’s why you’re gonna have a great life and be so successful.” She completely ignored what I had just said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You always think.” She tapped a finger against her temple. “You know what to do all the time. You’re like, the bestest friend ever.” She looked out the window. “Oh hey look that tree looks like a cow.”

  “You’re drunk. And you’re smart too Cristin, you just make…” I fought for the right words, “Bad choices sometimes,” I said, pulling into the driveway. Her mom’s car wasn’t there yet so I still had time to get everyone inside.

  “No, not like you. I don’t even really know what happened with your dad. I saw something in the paper, but, I’m not sure. I mean, you must be really brave to stand up to your dad. I couldn’t do that. I had an abortion last year, did you know? No one really knows. My mom would of killed me.”

  My eyes widened. “Cristin I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no it’s okay. You’re so brave. You don’t follow the crowd, like some people.” She pointed to Dustin snoring in the back and giggled. “Plus it makes you totally hot, guys love that you have a mind of your own. Jason wouldn’t stop staring at you all night.”

  “Jason?”

  “Yeaaa. The guy with the dark hair. Tan skin. He’s yummy. He stared at you all night. Stared. I saw him. How did you not notice? I ate a pickle before. Oh, Brooke?”

  “Yea?”

  “Imma throw up now.”

  My door flew open and I raced around the front of the car.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jason and I had been dating for five months, and we had Cristin to thank for introducing us. Kind of. She was tired of me moping around over Paul and thought meeting someone new would be a good idea.

  “Jason’s a total sweetheart. He used to smoke weed, but not anymore, I know you don’t like that. I told him to meet you at your locker after gym so you guys can meet.”

  I moaned. “You didn’t.” Cristin would finagle a blind date in high school somehow.

  “What’s the big deal? You met him already.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “Yea, you did. He was tan boy staring at you all night at the party Dustin took us to. Remember?”

  “Vaguely.” I shut my locker.

  “He drives a really old pickup truck. I’ll show you later after school, in the parking lot. He’s a real country boy. Just wait. He’ll be here.”

  Jason never showed up. He didn’t show up anytime that week either. It turns out he wasn’t too interested in the random meet and greet our high school hallways had to offer either. I was on my way home from work when I noticed his 78’ Ford truck taking up two spaces at the Shop’N’Stop gas station. He waved slightly when he saw my
cavalier at the stop light. Too embarrassed to just drive away after I had been spotted, I cruised into a parking spot beside him

  “What’s this thing get, 10 miles to the gallon?” I said.

  “Eight, actually.” He jumped down from the raised truck and brushed his hands on his Carhart’s. He leaned against a rusted fender and cocked his head to the side. The smell of oil blasted my nostrils when he moved closer and I cringed at the rips and holes in his clothes. When he smiled though, I saw right past those things.

  “You’re Brooke, right? I’m heading to a buddy’s house. Wanna go?”

  The rest, Cristin says, is history. The truth is we didn’t speak to each other for weeks after hanging out that night. I was with Sophia at the local auto shop getting new windshield wipers when she spotted Jason working behind the counter. “Hey, isn’t that the guy Cristin tried to hook you up with?”

  I craned my neck. “Yea.”

  He was in his work uniform, helping a guy with tired hands pull a part out of a box. He seemed enthusiastic about the conversation and flashed a handsome smile every time the guy said something.

  “You like him.” Sophia pointed at me.

  “I do not. I don’t even know him.”

  “You should have seen your goofy face two seconds ago. You think he’s totally hot. Let’s go tell him.”

  I grabbed her wrist. “No, don’t. Come on, let’s go.”

  “You’re seventeen and have had one boyfriend. One. Prom is at the end of this year, you know, senior prom? So either you go tell him he’s hot or I’ll do it for you.”

  I compromised. “I’ll leave my number on his truck. He’s busy. I don’t want to interrupt him at work.” He thanked the guy and made a goofy face at one of the guys he worked with. A face he would use over the next several months to get me to laugh until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Fine.” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Chicken. I’m gonna watch you write the note.”

  Jason texted me sometime after eleven that night. I felt like a creeper explaining to him who I was and why I left my number on his truck. He didn’t seem to mind, and we thought it would be a good idea to hang out again. He kissed me when he left after our date; he ran his hand over my cheek and through my hair as he pulled me closer. We were inseparable after that.