Searching for Glory

by Hunter J. Keane

  There was an awkward silence as we stood there, mutely appraising one another. It was true that sometimes more can be said in silence than in words.

  “You fix tractors now?” I said when the silence became unbearable.

  “Among other things.” He took a long drink of water and sat the empty glass on the fence post. He was closer to me now and I could smell the oil and sweat on him. “I help Jake with the farm on the weekends. With the trouble they’ve been having this year, they can’t exactly afford to hire someone and I don’t mind helping out an old friend.”

  I instantly felt terrible for not knowing that the farm was in financial trouble. It was just one item on a long list of items for me to feel guilty about.

  “Johnny-” I didn’t get a chance to continue because Jake walked out of the barn just then.

  “Well if it isn’t my favorite sister-in-law,” he said as he scooped me up in a crushing hug that lifted my feet off the ground. “Vic didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  He set me back down and I gave him a playful punch on the arm. “That’s probably because I didn’t tell her. This is kind of a surprise.”

  I looked at Johnny for a split second but he had turned back to the tractor.

  “Well it’s a darn good surprise. What’s it been, ten years? Just wait’ll everyone in town hears the Delroys have the sexiest woman alive staying with them.” Jake’s grin was big enough to show off both rows of teeth. He was one of the few people who maintained his boyish charm as he aged and his smiles were contagious.

  “You had to bring that up?” I groaned painfully and handed him the other water. He took a big drink and then dumped the rest of it on the back of his neck.

  “You comin’ to the block party with us tonight?”

  “Oh, wow. That’s tonight?” For as long as the town had existed it had held a citywide block party every summer. City officials closed down the streets around the town square and everyone stopped by for some food, drink and neighborly bonding. In a small town like Princeton, it was a pretty big deal.

  “It sure is. And I’m manning the beer tent so there might be a free drink in it for you.”

  “Well how can I say no to that?” I turned to Johnny who I could feel watching me. “You’ll be there?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, leaning comfortably against the tractor with his arms folded over his chest. His eyes were glued to my face and I could feel myself begin to blush.

  “Well, we can catch up later then,” I said, backing away. “I’ll let you boys get back to work. Good seeing you, Johnny.”

  “Indeed,” he said as I turned swiftly. I willed myself not to turn around as I walked away. My legs were shaking and my breath was rapid and unsteady. I could still feel his eyes on me and I couldn’t believe that after all these years he still had the power to make me feel this way.

  Princeton, Missouri: 1992

  Do you remember the night before my father died? It’s one of the only things I can remember about him. That, and how scared I was of him. He had been drinking at a bar that night with some friends and he had come home in a particularly rotten mood, cursing everyone and everything. Douglas Stark was an evil son of a bitch, and not just because he had named his daughters Glory and Victory; I knew to stay out of his way when he was drunk. That night, I tried hiding out in my room, but he yelled my name unrelentingly until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  Vic tried to stop me, but it was no use. I knew that if we didn’t come out he would just come find us. I thought maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if I let him get it over with. I also hoped he would take his anger out on me and leave Vic alone. So I told her to stay in the closet and not come out no matter what.

  It was the worst beating I ever received. His belt left bleeding lash marks on my butt, lower back and thighs. I muffled my screams as much as possible with a pillow, hoping Vic wouldn’t try to come to my rescue. Sometime during the beating, Douglas started to sober up. He took a break to get a beer from the kitchen. I knew that was my only chance to get away so I ran, though it was more like a hobble at that point. I just hoped he would be too worn out to go after Vic. Because I was in too much pain to run very far, I headed for our tree house. I bit down hard on my lip and climbed up very slowly.

  After I made it inside, I picked up a walkie talkie. Remember how we kept one in the tree house and you kept the other one in your bedroom? They didn’t work well enough to have a conversation but we used them to page one another. I pushed the button that would send you a burst of static and you responded quickly. I waited in the dark, tears streaming down my face as I shifted uncomfortably. I piled up some old blankets and used them to cushion my injuries from the hard wooden floor.

  You climbed into the tree house and looked at me with solemn eyes. You never asked me what was wrong; one look at the pain in my eyes told you everything. You sat next to me, not talking at all and I felt better just having you there. About an hour later, Douglas came looking for me; he stumbled around the backyard yelling my name over and over. He got dangerously close to the tree house and I started to have trouble breathing.

  My chest seized up and I gasped for air. It was my first experience with a panic attack and at the time I thought I was dying. You had me put my head between my knees and you whispered for me to take deep, slow breaths. Just keep breathing, you said. Douglas went back inside and I was able to catch my breath again. You and I sat there all night, holding on to one another.

  Around 4:00 in the morning, Douglas left the house and got in his truck, headed to work. An hour later, my mother returned from her overnight shift at the diner and only then did I dare return home. I found Vic still hiding in the closet in our bedroom and managed to coax her out. She helped me clean and bandage my wounds, crying softly as she did it. I knew she felt guilty for letting her little sister take the beating. We were lying together in her bed trying to catch up on some sleep when the phone rang. Douglas had driven his semi-truck off the road, across a ditch and into a tree. He was dead.

  I stood dutifully by my mother’s side during the funeral. I accepted the hugs and condolences from family and friends, wincing through the sympathetic pats on the back that landed on my injuries; a painful reminder of my father from beyond the grave. The tears of pain were the only tears I cried.

  Over the next few weeks, well-wishers would lament that they hoped his death had been swift and that he hadn’t felt anything. I would nod silently, but inside I hoped that he had felt every rib break, felt the blood rush into his lungs, and felt his head smash against the windshield. It was my first time experiencing hatred and vengeance but it wouldn’t be my last. But that time with you in the tree house was also the first time I ever experienced unconditional love, and I’ll never forget that.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Every so often, I had this reoccurring dream where I found out my entire career had never happened. In my dream, I still lived in Princeton and I was married with a half dozen kids running around my feet. Inevitably, I woke up from the dream breathing hard and covered in sweat. I wondered what Vic would think about me if she knew that her life was my worst nightmare.

  After just three hours with J.J. and Marta, I was reminded of that dream. I normally saw the kids once a year, for three or four days around Christmas. I paid for all of them to leave Princeton, our destination changing each year. One year it was New York City, another year it was Disneyworld. I had never spent any time with them in their own home until now.

  It was a disaster from the beginning. J.J. had discovered that his favorite game was to climb on the back of the couch and then jump on me. Marta, meanwhile, had painted my toenails bright orange except her aim was terrible and I ended up with orange paint up to my knees. By the time Vic yelled for them to clean up, I was thoroughly exhausted.

  “I set you up in Julia’s room,” Vic said from somewhere over my head. I was lying on the floor in the living room, rendered immobile. I opened one eye, then the other, and watched as Vic t
urned off the television. The silence was so sudden it was like I had gone deaf.

  “Don’t go to any trouble, Vic. I’m good right here.” I rolled onto my side and stretched out my sore muscles.

  “Don’t be silly. Julia has an extra bed in her room that you might as well use.” Vic began to pick up the piles of toys that were littering the floor. I knew that I should help her but I couldn’t seem to make my body move.

  “When will Julia and Christopher be home?”

  “Julia should be home, oh fifteen minutes ago,” Vic said, glancing at the clock. “Christopher is going to the block party with his friends so we’ll find him there.”

  I finally made myself get off the floor and settled onto the couch instead. I really needed to shower, but that seemed like an impossible task at the moment. The front door screeched open and brought with it a burst of warm air.

  “Whose car?” Julia asked in a bored voice. Julia used to worship the ground I walked on. When I took care of her when she was a baby, she used to cry if I left the room. Growing up, she used to plan for our holiday visits for months in advance. She even took to following me around nonstop during our time together.

  But something had changed in the past year. She no longer called me just to tell me about the cute guy in her math class. She stopped asking me for autographed photos to give to her friends. And this past Christmas, she had barely looked up from her phone long enough to thank me for her presents. Vic assured me that it was just typical teenager stuff but it was unsettling to me nonetheless.

  “Hey, Jules,” I called out tentatively.

  “Aunt Gloria.” Julia entered the room and I tried to hide my surprise. Her formerly long blond hair was gone; in its place was a short style that fell just below her chin and she had dyed it the color of charcoal. She wore heavy makeup, her eyes lined with dark ink that gave her the look of a jaded teenager. I barely recognized my niece, or the look of disgust in her eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked through tight lips. “It’s not Christmas.”

  “Julia, watch it,” Vic warned her in a parental tone of voice.

  “What? We never see her unless it’s Christmas.” Julia was obviously looking to pick a fight with her mother.

  “So, Jules. Are you excited about the big block party tonight?” I asked in a pitiful attempt to change the subject.

  “No.” Julia looked at her mother with contempt. “Mom’s making me go.”

  “You’re grounded, Julia. I don’t want to hear any more lip from you.”

  “If I’m grounded, then I should have to stay home tonight.”

  “If we leave you here alone it won’t be much of a punishment, will it?” Vic sighed and I knew this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “You’re going with the family. End of story.”

  “Fine. Whatever. This is such bullshit.” I flinched openly as Julia stomped away. It was the first time I’d ever heard her curse. Vic just threw up her arms.

  “Why is she grounded?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know the answer. I didn’t like this new side of my formerly sweet niece.

  “She was caught in her bedroom last week with a boy. In a compromising position.” Vic got this look in her eyes that I had never seen before.

  “Compromising position?” I practically choked over the words. “She wasn’t… I mean, they weren’t… were they?”

  “Not quite. But it was only a matter of time.”

  I watched as Vic sat next to me and put her head in her hands. She was normally so strong and in control but right now she looked lost. I tried to think of something encouraging to say but that wasn’t exactly my strong suit.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately,” Vic confessed. “She’s fourteen, going on thirty. I can see her headed for trouble, about to make the same mistakes I did but I can’t get her to listen to me. Most of the time she hates me, and even when she doesn’t, she still doesn’t like me very much.”

  “I could try talking to her. If you want. I don’t think she’ll listen, but maybe.” I regretted the offer as soon as I made it. I was the last person in the world that should be offering a teenager advice on how to live her life.

  “I suppose it’s worth a shot. I don’t think it could make things any worse.”

  An hour later I was showered and presentable. My hair had been de-frizzed and I had changed into a modest white sundress. Julia sat next to me in my car, fidgeting with the radio.

  “Your mom told me why you are grounded.”

  “Figures.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  I decided a different approach was needed. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk. You can just listen. I don’t like what I heard, Jules. You are only fourteen years old.”

  “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. You weren’t there. Mom just freaks out about everything lately.”

  “Okay, why don’t you explain it to me then? I’d like to hear your side.”

  “We weren’t even doing anything.” Julia caught my questioning look and clarified. “Okay, yeah we were in my room. And we were kissing, but that’s it. Nobody was naked or anything.”

  “Well… that’s good. I guess. Why did your mom think it was something more?”

  “Because she’s a total psycho. I mean just because she got knocked up at sixteen doesn’t mean I’m going to be that stupid.”

  “Well, first off, I don’t think your mom’s a psycho. She’s a mom, and moms are supposed to worry. And second, your mom made a mistake but that doesn’t make her stupid. Having you was the best thing that ever happened to her, so how could that be stupid?” I looked at Julia out of the corner of my eye and saw that she has stopped fidgeting and appeared to be listening to me. “But I do agree that it’s probably best that you not follow in her footsteps. Or mine for that matter. You’re a smart girl and the world has so many amazing things in store for you.”

  “Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m grounded. This totally sucks.”

  “So you have to spend some time with your family. Is that really the worst thing in the world?”

  Julia looked at me like I had just told her unicorns were real. “You wouldn’t understand. You never even had a real family when you were my age. And then you moved far away from the only family you had left.”

  Point. Set. Match.

  * * *

  Last year I was nominated for an Academy Award for my role as a reformed prostitute in a little movie called, Undone. I didn’t win, but it was an honor just to be nominated. At least that’s what I had been expected to say when I lost. All pleasantries aside, I should’ve won; I acted my ass off in that movie.

  Now here I stood with an irate teenager at my side, watching Marta and J.J. ride around in circles on a miniature train. I smiled and waved each time they passed in front of me, the model of an aunt that was excited to spend time with her nieces and nephew. On the inside, I was dying for a stiff drink. So those amazing acting skills were coming in handy.

  “Ugh. I’m so bored.” Julia rolled her pretty little eyes again, the hostility oozing from her perfect teenage pores.

  “Suck it up, chica. The world doesn’t revolve around you all the time.”

  I had offered to take the kids off Vic’s hands, hoping Julia’s attitude would improve without her mother around. My plan was an epic failure so far. She had been complaining for an hour straight with no sign of letting up.

  “My friends are right over there. Can’t I just go hang out with them for a little while? Pleaaase.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, Jules. I’m sure your mom would just love that.” I couldn’t believe I was responding to her whining with childish sarcasm, but this was what my life had become.

  “I see your brother over there. I’m going to go say hi. Stay right here and wait for Marta and J.J. I’ll be back in two minutes.” I fixed Julia with my most parental stare. “I mean
it, Julia. Don’t go wandering off.”

  “Jeez, fine. Whatever.”

  I left Julia to stew in her overflowing pot of teenage angst and headed off to surprise Christopher. He was standing a few yards away with a group of friends, all of them in varying stages of the awkward pre-pubescence.

  “Hey, Chris,” I said, expecting at least a smile. Instead, he stared at me with wide eyes and backed away a few steps. Without even trying, I had managed to embarrass him. I had so many talents I was only beginning to realize.

  “Aunt Gloria.” He said the words with no emotion, a statement and not a greeting.

  “Surprise.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you, silly. You and the rest of the fam.”

  I became aware that Christopher’s friends had fallen silent, and possibly rendered immobile. None of them were moving apart from the occasional opening and closing of their mouths.

  “Did you want to introduce me to your friends?” I asked.

  “No.” Christopher immediately looked ashamed. “I mean, sure. Guys, this is my aunt.”

  I smiled at them but before any words could be exchanged Christopher grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

  “I gotta go guys. See ya.”

  I allowed him to drag me away until we were out of earshot. Then I stopped and forced him to look at me.

  “What’s going on, Chris?”

  His face was bright red and he couldn’t seem to look me in the eye. “Nothing.”

  “Stop mumbling, and talk to me. We aren’t going anywhere until you explain yourself.” I was getting really sick of being treated like a contagious disease by my family.

  “I just don’t want you hanging around my friends.” He was still mumbling and shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

  “Why? Did I embarrass you?”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  “How did I embarrass you? I said, like, two words.”

  Christopher let out a deep breath and spoke so quickly I could barely understand him. “My friends think you’re hot, okay? They have pictures of you in their lockers and they say gross stuff about you. It’s weird.”