Sliding On The Edge

by C. Lee McKenzie

  “Nothing’s wrong with being interested,” Marta says.

  “Butt out of my life and take your charmin’ duo with you.” I heft my bag under my arm and start toward town again.

  “Where are you going, Shawna? You can’t walk back to your grandmother’s now!” Marta catches up with me and grabs my arm. “Wait! I called Casey. He’s on his way to get you.”

  I want to hit her. Why does she muck around in my life? But it’s already too late; Casey’s truck is rolling to a stop at the curb

  Chapter 40

  Shawna

  Casey walks up to us, takes my sleeping bag without saying a thing, then drops it in the back of his truck. He opens the passenger door and waits like a patient sheepherder, for the last of his flock to straggle in.

  He drops Marta at her house. And while she’s standing out front, waving at us, the door opens and a twin’s head pops out. Now I’m the one who’s smiling—the biggest and widest I can manage—and I’m waving back like I’m off to Paris. Ah, life can be good.

  “I’ll hear about this later tonight,” Casey says, as he pulls away.

  “I didn’t ask for the ride.”

  “No, but I’ll wager you tricked Marta into asking.”

  “You have an ego the size of a planet, do you know that? I don’t want anything from you, except to leave me alone.” I scoot as far against my door as I can, and scrunch down into the seat. I can barely see over the dash.

  It’s a fast trip down the highway, a skidding turn onto Kay’s road, and a grinding stop a few feet from the red house. But before I can escape, Casey’s across the seat, pinning me against the door. I’m not breathing and my hands would be shaking if they had the room, but he’s pressed against me so hard, there’s no space between us for the shakes.

  “I don’t like people touching me!” I shout.

  “Is that ’cause you’re not human?” His face is inches from mine.

  “Guys make me sick.”

  “Guys? Or is it just me?”

  “Both.”

  His lips touch mine. I clench my teeth and try to pull back, but there’s no room for escape. He mashes his mouth against mine, forcing my head into the metal corner of the truck.

  He eases back, still pinning me against the door. “Kiss me, Shawna.”

  “Go kiss your girlfriend. Leave me alone.”

  “I’ve tried leaving you alone. But for some reason I can’t.” He smiles.

  It’s a long, slow smile that has the pull of a strong undertow. I’m losing my footing, and if I’m not careful I’ll disappear under its force.

  “I’ve got you tucked under my heart.”

  Then he kisses me. Casey’s lips are warm and firm against mine. I hear the rush of cool, dark water and I’m drifting, daydreaming. My arms cling to Magic’s strong neck, and Casey is riding alongside. His smile reassures me that I’m going in the right direction.

  Up? Down? Forward? Backward? I don’t know. Magic is saying, This is the way, Shawna. Casey’s smile says, Listen to him.

  Then Casey isn’t pressing against me anymore. Magic disappears and the water drains away, leaving me like something washed up at low tide, my back heavy against the door. I keep my eyes clenched shut and listen as Casey climbs out the driver’s side and drags my sleeping bag from the back. I hear the soft thud of it landing on the porch, then the crunch of gravel under his boots, and the scrape of my door opening.

  He touches my arm and I want to let him, but I still can’t do that. No touching is a rule—my rule. I jerk away and climb out. Without looking back at him, I run into the house, letting the door slam behind me. Outside, Casey spins his truck around and drives away really fast.

  The shakes have got me now. I’m holding on the best I can, but I’ve got to call Mom right away. I’ve got to get out of here now.

  Before I can make it to the phone, Kay calls from the kitchen. “Shawna?” She pokes her head into the living room. “What’s wrong?”

  Leave me alone I want to scream, but for some reason I can’t. I wrap my arms around myself and pin my hands under my armpits. This way she can’t see me shake.

  “How did you get home?”

  Kenny comes up behind her, and I try staring him down. I try making him go away, but he’s Kay’s backup and he’s not going anywhere, not even if I was a pit bull with rabies.

  “Casey.” It’s not a whisper, but it’s not full volume either.

  Kay steps toward me. I move back.

  “I want to call my mom.”

  “Shawna . . .” Kay reaches out her hand, and then lets it fall to her side. “Use my office phone.”

  The office with its walls of books feels safe when I close the door and lean against it. There’s too much in my head, too much swirling inside me for me to pick up the phone at first. I stand propped against the solid wood and listen to my breathing, feel the air go in and out of my body.

  What if I had to think about breathing the same way I do to write essays or curry horses? I couldn’t manage to think about inhaling and exhaling all day and all night and still do anything else. And right now, I’m having trouble turning that job back to autopilot. I have to tell myself to breathe in, breathe out.

  What was Casey trying to prove? Breathe in. Why did I let him come so close to me? Breathe out. He kissed me. Breathe in. I kissed him back. Breathe out. Breathe in.

  I’ve seen enough of what kissing is all about. I’ve seen the sweethearts come and go. I’ve locked them out of the only room with a door and a lock—and sat on the linoleum or in the bathtub or in the shower with towels wrapped around me, waiting. Breathing in. Breathing out.

  I kissed Casey back.

  Sweet River soft.

  I can deal with the phone now, and I’d better get on it. The clock says it’s after nine and Mom’s out and about by ten. I take the paper with her number out of my pocket and smooth it on Kay’s desk. I punch in the numbers and wait. One ring. Two.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  It’s one beat too long before she answers. Someone is there with her.

  “Oh, yes. How are you?”

  How am I? The question hammers the inside of my skull.

  “Hold on.”

  I hear some shuffling and footsteps. A door closes and her voice comes back on the line. “I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight, Sweetie. What’s up?”

  I had the words ready to say before I heard her voice, before she answered the phone as Jackie instead of Mom. But now, my brain is mute. It’s not talking to me, and I’m not talking to her.

  It’s the same as the night Dylan came on to me. When I unlocked the bathroom door and she hit me and called me a slut. It was my fault. All mine.

  “Shawna? Why are you calling? Just to breathe in my ear?”

  “I’m... not sure I’m coming back to Las Vegas.”

  “You little... ! You’re calling me at a time like... Never mind. What changed your mind? Kay?”

  “She—”

  “Why don’t you have her tell you how much she wanted you in the beginning? How she pushed for me to have an abortion? Now that you’re all grown up, she’s changed her tune, right? Well, screw her, and screw you!”

  And with a click, Mom’s gone. Jackie’s in a room someplace with someone, and I’m in a canyon of books.

  Breathing in. Breathing out.

  Chapter 41

  Kay

  Kay drove back to the ranch from the hospital and went straight to Kenny’s trailer. She rapped at his door and it opened before she’d stepped back. “You expecting a visitor? Or do you stand by that door all night?”

  Kenny tucked in his shirt. “A little of both. How’s Floyd?”

  She didn’t need to answer. Her face gave her away. “Can you come to the house for a cup of coffee? Floyd sold his ranch without telling us. I wanted to run some ideas by you, about talking to the new owners. I’m thinking about maybe making them an offer.”

  They walked to the house
and Kay plugged in the coffeemaker. “I saw Victor at the hospital tonight.” She pulled cookies out of the jar and spread them on a plate.

  “How’s the boy holding up?”

  “He’s no boy anymore. Same age as Nicholas would be. Thirty-five! Can you believe that? He’s coming over tomorrow to pack whatever he wants from the house. I thought I’d ask him about the new people. Get a feel for how to approach them. Or even if there’s a chance they’ll want to sell. I didn’t want to talk business. I mean, his father... it must have been hard for Victor, even after all these years of Floyd’s drinking. He doesn’t have any other relatives.”

  “He havin’ a service?”

  “No. I’ll go to the cemetery next week and put in some flowers. Floyd will be buried next to Nell and the kids.” Kay listened to the coffee percolate and smelled the fresh richness that slowly filled the room. “Nell and the kids,” she whispered to herself.

  Even while Floyd was building the new house around her, Nell would make fresh coffee every morning about ten, then she’d lean over the fence and yell, “Kay Stone! It’s coffee!” And Kay would put down the saddle or hang up the bridle she’d been polishing, and climb over the fence. Nell started the tradition of their daily twenty-minutes at her table, exchanging stories about Nic and Vic, their terrible ten-year-olds who were always up to some kind of mischief.

  How did a person get mud stains out of white socks after they’d been stashed under a bed for a month? And did Kay know about the firecrackers? Floyd confiscated a whole shoe box full.

  Floyd and Nell’s Ben, only three, scooted across the floor after his favorite wind-up toy, while Darcy, the girl with more curls than a poodle, darted in and out. Floyd always passed through at least once to get a cup of coffee before he went back to work on the house.

  That last time Kay and Nell sat together, Floyd was on a ladder, putting the final coat of white paint on the siding. The next time Kay saw him, his life and his newly painted house was ashes.

  The light on the coffee pot flashed red. Done.

  “How about the horses? They part of the deal Floyd made?” Kenny bit into a cookie.

  “Yes. I’ll ask about including them in my offer.” Kay filled two coffee mugs and sat across from Kenny. “Shawna’s got one of them looking healthy, and it might be good for her to have the responsibility of a horse of her own. What do you think?”

  “Casey tells me she’s over there with that black one every Sunday. Says she talks to him. Did you know that?”

  Kay laughed. “No. But my apple supply dwindles more every week. If she’s feeding and talking to a horse, that’s two things she does that don’t worry me. Everything else has me walking a narrow ledge.” She warmed her hands against the coffee mug and stared into the dark brew.

  “Shawna’s at her sleepover, so keep your fingers crossed. I’m praying this little socializing will put a chink in that armor of hers. Maybe she’ll start talking to people and not just that horse.”

  “You going back to see the doc next week?”

  “We made an appointment, but I’m not sure Shawna’s going to cooperate. I’m hoping she’ll go willingly... I don’t feel right about forcing her. She’s got to want to do this.” Her elbows on the table, Kay let her head rest in both hands. “Still, I’m the adult, and I should decide what’s right for her.” She looked up. “What should I do?”

  “Take her to the doctor. She needs more than a sleepover to kick loose from whatever’s wrapped around her innards.”

  “Maybe I need more help, too.” She stood and paced between the table and the sink. “I’m in way over my head.”

  “It seems that way. But you been there before. Do what you gotta do, and you’ll rise up to the surface.” He smiled his brown, snaggletooth smile at her. “I’ll give you a boost if I see you runnin’ out of air.”

  Kay gripped his shoulder and he laid his hand over hers. “What would I do without you, old man?”

  The front door slammed and tires spun in the dirt. Kay heard a motor revving, and then roaring off down the road. “Shawna?” She hurried into the living room where her granddaughter stood, hands shaking, eyes wild. “What’s wrong?”

  Shawna shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, tucking her hands under her armpits.

  “How did you get home?” Kay had a lot more questions to ask. What happened at the sleepover? What’s wrong with you? Are you sick? Hurt? But fear had the words trapped below her throat.

  “Casey.” It was a whimper. The sound of a terrified pup.

  Kay wanted more than anything to hold Shawna close to her, gather her into her arms, and let her know that she was safe. Kay stepped forward and Shawna retreated, keeping the same distance between them.

  “I want to call my mom.”

  “Shawna—” Kay reached out her hand, then let it fall to her side. Don’t push her. She may need her mother, no matter what kind of mother Jackie is. She may need to go home.

  Home. That’s what she told Dr. Lubell. I want to go home. So she did mean Las Vegas, as opposed to here? She’s asking to call her mother, so maybe I was right about Vegas, but I’d hoped... . “Use my office phone.”

  Kay waited until Shawna walked into the office and closed the door, then she turned to face Kenny, who stood close at her back. “I feel like I can hardly breathe. Like I’m running out of air.” She fell against his chest and let him hold her.

  Chapter 42

  Shawna

  After that wonderful conversation with Jackie, I stretch out on my bed. I’ll stare at the ceiling and wait for the night to slip away. I’ll take a trip in my mind to clean out my head, dump Jackie someplace along a roadside, and drive away without looking back. She’ll disappear—a woman, a figure, a speck, nothing.

  Monster doesn’t take much time coming. He slides up on the foot of my bed and squats. His greedy eyes take up most of his face, and he gives me his best pointy-toothed smile.

  “Get outta here,” I say, but there’s no power in my voice.

  He scoots forward.

  “I told you. Leave me alone.” I’m not letting him boss me around. He’s a toad, even worse than that. I look him in the eye. “You’re not even real, you creep.” But it’s like I don’t have enough energy to make him hear me. I can hardly hear myself.

  “Now. Now, Shawna,” his voice wheedles. “What is real?”

  “Me! I’m real.”

  “A real what? Girl? Granddaughter? Say, how about a real daughter with a real mother and father?”

  I want to kill him. Grab him by his fat throat, and squeeze until his toad eyes pop out onto the floor and roll around like marbles.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Sweetie.”

  “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I clap my hands over my ears, but Sweetie, Sweetie rings in my head. Mom’s voice. Jackie’s voice. The small click and the emptiness of the line strung for miles between Vegas and Sweet River.

  I wish I could be five again. I wish she would prop me up on pillows, like she did then, and feed me ice cream again. I would lick the spoon clean and she’d laugh, I’d laugh. And nobody would come to take her out and leave me all alone.

  “I’m here, Shawna,” Monster coos. “You saw what happened when you were nice and cozy with those girls tonight. And what about that Sunday Boy, Casey? Can’t let them in, Shawna. You can’t trust anybody but me.”

  Don’t get the shakes. Don’t get the shakes.

  “I don’t want you!” I scream, but the words dribble down my chin and soak into the sheets.

  “You don’t want anyone, Sweetie. And nobody wants you either.”

  “No!” I sit up and slide my hands under my butt. Get it together.

  “Where’s Daddy? He split the minute you were born. Mommy? She’s a busy one. Lots of people more important than you to spend her time with. And how about old Granny? Now you know even she didn’t want you before you were born. Do you think she wants you now?”

  He waits, a smug look drawing his f
ace up tight. “I don’t think so, he sing-songs as he scoots even closer. “Oh, and how about that Sunday Boy? You think he’ll be around again soon? Not!”

  I can feel his breath on my face. The loamy smell that used to be Marta’s gags me. Maybe it never belonged to her. Maybe it was Monster in my face all that time. He’s not a toad at all. He’s The Troll, smothering me with his stench.

  I pull out the nightstand drawer and reach for the tissue-wrapped blade. But even as my fingers touch the sharp edge, I know its power is ended. Monster knows it too. He’s heard it in my voice. He’s seen it in my face. The bottle of small white pills hides at the back of the drawer. I dump them onto my palm and lie down. I’m cold. I pull up the sheet and the blanket to my chin, but I’m okay now. I feel better and stronger. I’m quiet inside and I’m not in the least shaky. Now I have a plan.

  One pill. Two. Three.

  They’re hard to swallow without water, but I’m shaking too much to get up and find my way into the kitchen. I fill my mouth with saliva.

  Four. Five. Six.

  He’s patting me on the head, smoothing my hair away from my forehead. “Nice Monster. Good Monster,” he’s crooning.

  Who’s he calling Monster? Me? I’m the Monster? I’m the one who’s kept myself safe and can’t any longer? Won’t any longer?

  Seven. I can’t count anymore.

  So who am I putting to sleep? Him? Me? Both? I’ll take him down right now and get it over with.

  I lunge.

  Chapter 43

  Kay

  Kay stayed in the kitchen after Kenny left. She sat at the table and picked at the cookie crumbs on the plate, just stirring them into patterns. Shawna hadn’t come back to tell her about the phone call to Jackie, but Kay had heard her go to her room.

  Now what, she wondered. I can go in and talk to her. I can ask when she’d like to leave. Maybe I should wait until morning. Let her sleep. This has been a terrible night for her. Ha! Make that for all of us. Even poor Kenny looked exhausted when he walked out the door.

  She’d had terrible nights before. Lonely nights, sitting here at this table. And it looked like there were more to come. Once Shawna left, her life would go back to what it used to be. And what kind of life was that?

  It had only been two months since the girl came, and Kay couldn’t imagine how she’d manage without her. Her Bad Ass Attitude T-shirt had gone from offensive, to not as bad as others she’d seen in the halls of Sweet River High, to a part of the white load in the weekly laundry. What would she and Buster do every afternoon, without the run to the school to pick Shawna up? And what about going shopping? Or watching her with the horses in the barn?