Leavin’ It All Behind
By Ginna Wilkerson
Published by JMS Books LLC
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Copyright 2018 Ginna Wilkerson
ISBN 9781634867276
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
For Julia.
* * * *
Leavin’ It All Behind
By Ginna Wilkerson
Chapter 1: Serena’s Fate
Chapter 2: Farewell to Mama
Chapter 3: Bad Vibes
Chapter 4: Trapped
Chapter 5: Last Straw
Chapter 6: Big Dust-Up
Chapter 7: Minor Accident
Chapter 8: Hittin’ the Road
Chapter 9: Late Night Surprise
Chapter 10: What Happens Next
Chapter 11: How it All Shakes Down
Chapter 1: Serena’s Fate
Serena Bainbridge stands on the steps of her older sister’s studio apartment, trying to breathe. Earlier that day, she had taken a home pregnancy test, her hand shaking as she held the test stick. As soon as she saw the result, she knew she had to talk to Savannah.
Waiting for the door to open, Serena can feel her thoughts whirling like a tornado on the Texas prairie. I can’t be pregnant. Tears sting her eyes, but she blinks them back, trying to be mature.
Savannah’s face appears in the doorway.
“Sissy! Come on in.”
Serena smiles at the pet name only her big sister still uses. She steps inside the tiny apartment, looking around for her brother-in-law’s presence. Savannah notices her hesitation.
“He’s at work, Sissy. Just me here. What’s up?
Serena stands in the center of the front room, shifting from one foot to the other. She has both hands in her jeans pockets. Savannah notices that one hand seems to be gripping something inside the pocket.
“Come on, sit down, Serena. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
Serena sits. Once her sister is on the couch next to her, she produces the object from her pocket and holds it out to Savannah. Running through Serena’s brain is the picture of herself in the school bathroom, staring at the offending blue spot on the stick.
Savannah looks, then closes her eyes. When she opens them, Serena has her head down, crying quietly.
“What am I gonna do, Van? My life is over.” More tears. Savannah puts one strong arm around her sister’s slim shoulders. She prepares to comfort her Sissy, but one part of her mind says that Serena has a point. Life as a whiz kid high school student is probably over.
“Well, let’s see what first. You want a Coke or somethin’?”
Serena nods wordlessly, and Savannah goes into the tiny alcove that serves as a kitchen, returning with two cans of coke. Serena takes a long swig and then again asks, “What am I gonna do?”
Savannah tries to take charge as calmly as possible. In order to sort her thoughts, she stands up and paces back and forth. Suddenly, she stops and looks at her little sister.
“Whose is it? I know you know. You’re not one to sleep around, and I know I’m right about that. Come on, tell.”
Serena looks up at her sister through a slow-flowing veil of tears. “Cody. It’s Cody’s. I’m sorry, Van. I know the whole family hates him…”
“That’s not the point, Sissy. I don’t care what Ma thinks, or anybody else. I just want you to be okay. And I can’t see any future for you with Cody Simpkins.”
Serena moves toward one end of the couch. Savannah sits back down and waits.
“I…think I might…marry him. Cody. At least the baby will have a family.”
Savannah takes her time in answering this statement.
“Serena. You don’t have to do this. You have choices.”
Serena stares at her sister in shock. “You mean, an abortion? Kill my baby?”
“Oh, Sissy. Don’t think of it like that. It’s not even a baby now. Just…a problem.”
Serena folds herself into a ball at the end of the couch, still crying. Savannah waits.
Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock on the door. Savannah gets up and looks through the peep hole, while Serena ignores the sound altogether.
The arrogant face of Cody Simpkins appears in the tiny window. Savannah sighs and prepares for the worst. Then she opens the door.
The short, muscular young man stalks into the living room as if he owns the place. This immediately sets Savannah in defense mode.
Cody spots his girlfriend and promptly plants his sturdy body right in front of her. Serena flinches as if she’s been hit. Savannah takes some deep breaths, trying to control her disgust and anger.
“Serena, baby, you’ve gotta talk to me. What’s goin’ on here? Why didn’t you call me back?”
Serena looks up and stares at her boyfriend and the father of her unborn child. “Cody. Oh, Cody…” is all she can manage.
The young man turns to Savannah with a question in his eyes. Having just a moment of pity for his distress, Savannah motions him to join her in the kitchen.
At the small round table, Cody sits uncomfortably. Savannah plunges in, “Look, man. I don’t really like you, and you know that.”
Cody opens his mouth to speak, but Savannah waves a silencing hand.
“Just listen, okay? It’s not my place to spill the beans for my sister, but I can tell you she needs you right now—needs you to try and be a grown-up. Think you can do that?”
Cody shifts uneasily in the narrow chair. “Yeah—I mean—I do love her. I just wanna know why she’s upset.”
“Okay, then. I’ll clear outta here for an hour or so, and you two can talk without any outside pressure. Just…think before you speak…okay?”
Cody says nothing, but looks like he’s trying to get himself together. Savannah goes into the front room and hugs her little sister without a word. Then she goes out, closing the door of the apartment behind her.
Chapter 2: Farewell to Mama
The front room of the funeral home is stuffy, although the whirr of the air conditioner carries on mightily, rising above the quiet conversation of the mourners. Savannah sticks close to her little sister, whose pregnant belly stretches the fabric of the one dark dress she owns. Savannah’s husband Bruce is there, stiff looking in his old grey suit and a tie Savannah remembers from when they were dating—what seems like a hundred years ago.
Family friend and neighbor Frank McElhenny sidles up to the sisters, offering a hand to Savannah and patting Serena awkwardly on the shoulder. His gray eyes offer understanding and connection. For the girls, the understanding is especially apprecia
ted.
“Have you seen Molly lately?” Savannah asks.
Frank looks even more like a sad puppy dog. “Nah. She won’t talk to me no more. The drugs, they got her.”
Both girls nod in sympathy. Molly McElhenny had been a classmate of Serena’s.
Not everyone present, especially the church folks, knows the real story about Sheila Bainbridge’s death.
“Hey, Mr. McElhenny,” says Serena. “Thanks for bein’ here.” Before she can say more, Serena’s tears catch up with her again. Impulsively, Frank puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her outside to the front stoop. Savannah then turns to find Bruce.
“Sweetie, can you go see what’s keepin’ the preacher? I don’t think I can take much more of this shit.”
“Sure, babe.” As always, Bruce doesn’t understand his wife’s feelings, but is willing to please her if possible. By the time he finds the preacher, folks are settling into the wooden pews of the Baptist chapel. Savannah looks around for Serena and they sit on either side of Bruce in the front row. Frank sits in the next row, occasionally giving Serena’s Lycra-covered shoulder a little pat.
Both girls are uncomfortably aware that the box in front of them holds the body of Sheila Bainbridge, drug tracks and ravaged face discreetly kept under cover.
The preacher obviously did not know Sheila well.
“Brothers and Sisters in the Lord. We are gathered here to praise Jesus for the life of (he looks down at his notes) Sheila Logan Bainbridge. She was a devoted mother to two daughters, Savannah Bainbridge Jolley and Serena Bainbridge (another look at the notes) Simpkins.”
Most of the congregation looks over at the two women, with an odd mixture of disdain and sympathy.
Serena has a brief moment of being hyper-conscious of her huge belly. Her next thought is of her tiny son Pony, at home with his daddy. Or, at least, that’s what Cody promised. There’s a distinct possibility that one-year-old Pony is experiencing his first band rehearsal at that very moment.
Savannah purposely tunes out the rest of the bogus sermon. She and Serena are the only ones left alive who really know what Sheila Bainbridge was like in life. And it isn’t a happy memory. More like a decades-long train wreck that finally derailed for good.
* * * *
As soon as the service is over, both Savannah and Serena breathe a collective sigh of relief. They look at each other with reluctant tears in their eyes. Sheila wasn’t much of a mother, but she was all they’d ever known. And now she’s gone.
Bruce claims his wife and leads her to the waiting limo provided by the funeral home. As an afterthought, he realizes that Serena should go with them, and that she has no husband on hand. The three of them climb into the back of the limo, leaving Frank McElhenny standing in the driveway, following Serena with his sad gray eyes.
Chapter 3: Bad Vibes
Cody’s truck rattles up the gravel road, raising a cloud of red dust. Holding Panda, who is hiccupping like crazy, Serena Bainbridge Simpkins turns to make sure her twenty-month old, Pony, is safely in his playpen and no toys are scattered on the linoleum floor. Cody hates it when the kids get under foot.
In the kitchen, she makes some random noise that she hopes sounds like dinner preparation. In reality, the meal is already sitting on the scarred and chipped counter ready for the microwave. The screen door bangs behind Cody. Panda’s hiccups instantly stop. Serena smooths her hair, listening to Cody in the front room.
“Hey, Little Dude,” Cody says to Pony. “How’s my Pony-Boy?” And then, “Where’s your lazy Mama?”
A thought pops into her head, “Why does he always have to insult me, even when I’m not in the room?”
Pony makes some jabbering baby noise as if he’s answering his daddy, then Cody appears in the doorway. He’s a rather short young man of twenty-two, three years older than his young wife. As usual, he drapes one arm over his head and holds onto the doorjamb. Somehow, this pose always makes his tall wife feel small and weak.
She offers a kiss, and he accepts the lips on his with no expression. Serena is exhausted from her day, and tries to pass two-month-old Panda over to him; he takes her as if he’s never seen her before. Their young family happened so fast, neither of them seem altogether to believe it.
But Serena does love her babies, and makes an effort to be cheerful. She offers, “Hey, babe. Why don’t you get a beer and go sit on the porch with Panda. Dinner in about twenty, okay?”
Cody looks at her in weariness and disgust. He plops Panda down in the second-hand baby seat reclining on the Formica table. She immediately starts hiccupping again.
Cody looks at the baby and then at Serena. “What’s wrong with this kid?”
“Nothing. She’s just a baby.” She’s said this about a million times in the last two months.
Another withering look. Then, “Get me that beer, hey?” And he stalks out on the porch.
Serena thinks about her present situation, realizing that the work and the tension are beginning to bury her alive. Cody was charming and romantic when they first got together, but once Pony came along…and then the second baby so fast. It was too much for either of them.
* * * *
It’s sometime in the night, and the Texas sky is full of stars. Serena sleeps lightly, knowing that one or the other of her children may need her. Cody never goes when they cry. Serena often hears him snoring beside her, lost in his own dreams—probably of being a rock star surrounded by groupies. Now down the dim hallway, Pony cries out like he does almost every night. The doctor said it’s “night terrors” and he’ll grow out of it.
Creeping down the hallway, she prays that the child’s cries won’t wake Cody. In the tiny room where Pony and Panda sleep, the boy is standing in his crib with his eyes shut tight, screaming loudly. His mother knows from experience not to wake him. Doc Sanchez at the Health Department Clinic told her to pick him up and hold him tight, then carry him outside in the night air. This is what she does now. Thankfully, Panda sleeps on peacefully in her own crib.
While the mother and little boy are walking softly out under the starry night sky, Cody comes out, banging the door behind him. The noise makes Pony stir in Serena’s arms and cry fitfully. She turns to stare at Cody, trying to make him keep his crazy mouth shut.
But he blurts, “What the hell? Why are you out in the yard in the middle of the night? What’s the matter with my boy?”
“I’ve told you over and over. He has night terrors. He gets scared, that’s all—in his sleep. If you ever came to the clinic with us, you’d know. He’s okay. I got him.” And she turns to walk in the other direction, jiggling Pony up and down gently in her arms.
Cody follows, raising his voice louder. “Serena! Can’t you do something to help him? I need to get some sleep.”
The young woman stares at this man who is her husband, but seems to be living some other version of her life. “You need sleep? What about me? I’m like the walkin’ dead here. You can go right back inside and sleep—go on. Someone has to keep Pony safe. And Panda, too.” Another conversation they’ve had a million times.
At that, Cody stalks back inside. Serena tries to keep her focus on Pony, who is getting much calmer now. In the space of about ten minutes, she hears the door slam again. Cody, dressed in his mechanic’s jumper for work, stomps out to his truck and gets in. As he pulls away, he shouts into the night air, “Serena, you loser. I’m outta here! And don’t be lookin’ for me home tomorrow, ya hear?”
Pony wakes up at the noise, and starts crying softly. From inside the house, she hears Panda whining—hungry, no doubt. And guess who’ll be the one to feed her. And get Pony back to bed. And take care of herself, whatever that might mean.
Chapter 4: Trapped
It’s four in the afternoon, and Savannah Bainbridge Jolley is watching her favorite soap opera in the cramped front room of a single wide trailer. Her mama used to call soap operas her “stories.” Savannah, tall and slim like all her family, likes this particular s
tory because she has an obsession with the wife of the rich villain. As she often does, she allows her hand to creep down and pleasure herself there on the ratty old couch, even though her husband Bruce is just a thin wall away. For these few moments, Savannah can feel like life opens up, and happiness might still be in reach.
Then the show is over, and she’s back in the Piney Woods trailer park in Abilene, Texas, chained to this man she once thought she loved. She straightens up her clothes and listens for the sound of Bruce stirring in the front bedroom. He sleeps most of the day and then works a late shift as a security guard at Walmart. She can hear him dressing for work and coughing as he always does. Bruce appears in the doorway, a large man with just the beginning of a bald spot.
“Hey, Sugar. What’s for dinner? I need to be outta here in about thirty minutes.”
“No problem,” Savannah answers, taking in his chunky body, belly hanging over the beltline of his security guard uniform.
She gets a container of leftover spaghetti and meatballs out of the fridge to heat up. She knows her husband always likes spaghetti, and this meal should send him off in a good mood. A couple of pieces of garlic bread will seal the deal nicely. Best for him to start his shift in a good mood, in case he calls later and his wife is out with her girlfriend again. Savannah’s “friendship” with Duckie is starting to piss him off but good.
* * * *
After Bruce leaves, Savannah folds her long legs under her on one end of the couch and calls Duckie on the phone, convincing her that a night at home is in order. For a while now, Savannah has been contemplating the serious error of marrying Bruce when she knew all along she preferred women. Not only that, but, besides Duckie and the soap operas, it has been pestering her mind that she basically has no life.
Years ago, at seventeen or eighteen, she used to at least have plans. When she was young and hopeful, she told everyone she would go to community college and be a beautician. Then she thought she might go to California and be an actress. By the time she met Bruce, she was just about ready to run away to a whole other country, like Australia, and just become someone else. But none of it happened. She married the first guy who said he loved her. The fact that he was eight years older and had a glass eye was nothing then, when she was twenty-one. And he pretended to ignore the lesbian thing, so she decided she could, too. Now, coming up on her thirty-third birthday, the crazy eye still doesn’t matter. But lots of other stuff does.
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