No Use For A Name

by Penelope Wright

  My mother stood up to look at me over the top of the half wall. "Don't go blaming your sister for this, cause I don't want to hear it. You've complained about those clothes for years. Do you think I'm stupid?" She slammed her hands against the top of the wall and glared at me. "You took the first chance you had to get rid of them, and I won't stand for it, do you hear me?"

  I stumbled out of the kitchen, clutching my backpack like a shield, barely seeing the hall in front of me.

  "I could have sold those jeans on eBay!" My mother hollered after me. "You owe me twenty bucks!"

  Monica laughed and threw a handful of cheese crackers at me as I passed her in the living room. I brushed them off my skirt and, by habit, stopped at the door to my old room. I remembered that I'd changed rooms just as my hand touched the doorknob, and I remembered something else. Phoebe had a phone in her room. I'd call Kaia. She'd come and get me.

  But when I dialed her number, it rang five times and went to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. My vision was blurry with tears, and I almost didn't notice when the little card of paper fell out of the front pocket of my backpack. But I did see it, and I picked it up. I took a deep, shuddering breath and dialed the number on the card. He picked up before the second ring.

  "Grady? It's…Mary." I struggled to get the hitch out of my voice, but I couldn't help it. "Can…can you pick me up?"

  I spent the next ten minutes listening intently for the sound of tires in the driveway, and as soon as I heard them, I sprinted for the door, my backpack slung over my shoulder.

  This time Monica threw a fast food jumbo cup of soda at me, but she missed, and it hit the television.

  "Don't you dare blame me for that," I screamed in the direction of the kitchen as I yanked open the door and ran down the steps. I flung open the door to Grady's Lexus and practically dove in, but not before I heard my mother start to shriek at Monica.

  Grady looked at me with huge eyes. My mother's high-pitched screams seemed to freeze him in place.

  "Please go, please get me out of here," I said, not bothering to hide the desperation in my voice.

  A calm, controlled expression took over Grady's face and in one smooth movement he threw the car in reverse, wheeled around, and drove away. I looked back over my shoulder, as though I expected to see the house bursting into flames or something, but it was just the same old shitty trailer it had always been.

  We'd gone about a mile before Grady said anything to me. When he did, it was simple. "What happened?"

  "Oh Grady." I hiccupped and sniffed, trying to stop the tears that were still trailing down my face. "I don't even know where to start."

  He pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park, but kept it running. The warm air from the heater felt nice on my bare legs, and I put my hands between my knees and squeezed, whether to get them warm or stop them from shaking, I wasn't sure. Either way, it helped me to calm down and get centered. "Actually, I do know where to start," I said haltingly. "And that's with my name. It's not Mary."

  I turned in my seat to face Grady. If he was shocked, he hid it well. "Okay," he said. "So what is it?"

  "I don't have one," I said, so quietly I was surprised that he actually heard me.

  "You don't have one?" he repeated slowly.

  I nodded. "My legal name is Baby Girl Anderson. I only found out the day before I met you, and I guess Kaia thought it would be funny to say my name was Mary, when we found out how religious you were. She wasn't trying to be a jerk, it just sort of happened."

  "I'd kind of started to figure out that you weren't as into to God as I thought," he said, smiling slightly.

  "Really? How come?"

  "Well…it started with the squeamish look you got whenever you looked at the statue of Christ on the cross at youth group. Plus you tend to take the Lord's name in vain. A lot." Grady shrugged, but he was still smiling. "It pretty much blew your cover."

  "Grady, I'm so sorry. I know you were looking for a nice Christian girl to hang out with, but I'm not it. But I really like you, and the more I got to know you the more I wanted to stay friends."

  "Just friends?" Grady reached across and took my hand, turning it so that he could trace the lines in my palm.

  Wow. That was unexpected. "Well. I guess. Um. I don't know." I stared at his finger as it followed the patterns on my skin.

  Grady stopped his tracing and squeezed my hand. "I know that Christians aren't perfect. But as long as you're trying to live a good life, that's what matters."

  I clutched Grady's hand. "But Grady, you have to understand—and this is very important—I'm not trying to be a good Christian. I don't even believe in God."

  I finally got the shocked look I'd been expecting from Grady all along, and he let go of my hand. "You don't believe in God?" he said.

  "No."

  "So you're an atheist?"

  I shrugged. "I guess."

  "But…but…" Grady was nearly speechless, and he stuttered a little as he tried to continue talking to me. "But you're so nice!"

  I laughed a little, but not because anything was particularly funny. "I try." My mother and sister's faces flashed before my eyes, and I felt my mood darken. "Sometimes it's harder than others."

  "I don't think I've ever met an atheist," Grady said quietly. "At least not anyone who admitted it. How do you do it?"

  I raised my eyebrows. "Do what?"

  "Act happy. Be productive. Any of it? Without God, how can you get up every day?"

  He sounded truly mystified. "I just do," I said. The heater continued to pump warm air on my legs, and I realized that the car had gone from cozy to stuffy. I cracked my window. "I don't really overthink it. I try my best to be nice to people and hope I'll get the same in return. I try to do the right thing. It doesn't always work out."

  Grady shook his head. "If you took God away, it would be like I had a huge, empty hole in my heart."

  I crossed my legs at the ankles and laced my fingers together. "I'm so sorry Grady. I'm so sorry I lied to you and pretended to be somebody I'm not. You should probably take me home."

  Grady put the car back in gear and began driving slowly down the road. "Do you really want to go back there?"

  I shook my head. "Not particularly. But what else am I going to do?"

  "I could take you to Kaia's."

  "No, that won't work. Our families don't get along. Like, at all. The one time Kaia brought me into her house last summer, her mom looked like she was going to throw up when she saw me. She made Kaia come into her room on some bullshit excuse and I could hear her yelling at her all the way from the other end of the house."

  Grady winced a little at the 'bullshit' but he didn't say anything about it. "Do you have any other friends?" he asked.

  "Not really."

  "No one? Seriously?"

  "Thanks, you're making me feel like a total loser." I rested my elbow on the window frame and leaned my chin against my palm. "No. For a variety of reasons, Kaia's my only real friend."

  "No she's not." Grady stopped at a red light, and he reached across the seat and put his hand on my wrist. "I'm your friend."

  The light turned green and he removed his hand from my arm to put it back on the steering wheel. "I think that God has put you in my path for a reason," he said, staring ahead at the road. "I'm going to have to pray on this. I know Jesus would want me to help you. I think he'd want me to keep seeing you."

  Wow. That was, like, the least romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. But Grady's great. Any girl would jump at the chance to be with him.

  I don't know how Grady interpreted my silence, but he picked up the conversation in a different spot, which I was grateful for. "What we need to figure out now is what to do with you." He drummed on the steering wheel with his hands. "You can't go to Kaia's. I can't take you to my house. Maybe if I was able to give my dad more notice, but I just can't spring something like this on him."

  I smoothed my cheer skirt down over the tops of
my thighs. "Really, I'll be fine at home. I just had to get out of there for a little while. My mom probably won't even notice when I come back in, and Monica will be in bed. She sleeps, like, fourteen hours a day. They're who I was really having the problem with."

  Grady sighed and pulled into a convenience store parking lot, made a three point turn, and got back out onto the road, driving in the direction of my neighborhood. He was clearly unhappy about it. "Is there anyone else in your family you can turn to? What about your dad? Maybe you could go live with him?"

  "My parents are still married, actually."

  "Oh. I'm sorry," Grady said. "I just assumed. You never mention him."

  "He's an okay guy when he's around, but he's hardly ever home. He works a lot."

  "What does he do?"

  "I don't know. Something at the casino. He's a security guard, or a cashier or something. He's there all the time. My guess is he hangs out after his shift and gambles. Not that I'd blame him."

  "Grandparents?"

  "Dead."

  "Older brothers or sisters?"

  "Deadbeats."

  "Lack-of-faith based charities?"

  I stuck my tongue out at him and slunk down in my seat, crossing my arms and closing my eyes, but a tiny smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth.

  "Jesus must want you pretty badly in Heaven if the devil is working so hard to keep you for himself. Mary-" He trailed off. "Huh. If your name's not really Mary, what should I call you?"

  I opened my eyes and sat up straight again. "Call me whatever you want, I guess. For some god awful reason—sorry," I said. If I was going to spend any time at all with him, I was going to have to work on the whole taking the Lord's name in vain thing. And the cussing. And probably a lot of stuff. "For some reason a bunch of people got the idea that my name is Barbie, so I'm going with it for now. You can call me that if you want."

  "I guess." He turned the final corner that put him onto my street, and he gave me a quick appraising look. "It doesn't really suit you, you know."

  "How do you figure?"

  "You're not a bitch."

  "Grady Carrico! Hanging out with atheists and swearing like a sailor. You'd better get me out of your car before you start mainlining heroin."

  Grady shook his head. If he knew I'd been trying to make him laugh he didn't act like it. "Think about a new name for yourself, Barbie," he said seriously. "One that you can be proud of."

  Grady pulled up in front of my house and I reached for the door handle. "Do you want me to pick you up for school tomorrow?" he asked.

  "No, Kaia comes in the morning. You don't have to worry about me. Thanks though. And thank you so much for saving me earlier." I pulled the handle and popped open the door.

  "Wait," Grady said. "Let me come around and help you out."

  I shrugged, and he pulled the emergency brake, hopped out of the driver's seat, and hurried around to my side. He opened my door the rest of the way and took my hand to help me rise out of my seat. Even though I was standing, he didn't let go of my hand.

  "I'll meet you after sixth period, then," he said. He leaned his head down and touched his lips to mine. His mouth was soft and smelled like bubble gum. His eyelashes were surprisingly blonde. This was nothing like one of Derek's kisses. Suddenly terrified that Grady would open his eyes and catch me staring at him, I slammed my eyes shut. The pressure from Grady's lips receded, and I slowly opened my eyes.

  "Goodnight," he said.

  I knew he was watching me as I made my way across the lawn and up my front porch steps, but I didn't look back. I used the trick Joe had taught me to open the door silently. I stepped in and closed it behind myself, but before I could turn around, my mother spoke up from the living room.

  "Baby, where on earth have you been?" She sounded…strange. Was this what it would sound like if she was concerned?

  She was sitting on one end of the couch. Phoebe was curled up on the other side, and in between them sat Derek, a Coke in his hand and a half-smile on his face.

  TEN

  "Baby, where have you been?" My mom repeated. "Derek's been waiting for you for over an hour."

  I looked back and forth between my mom and Derek, unable to wrap my brain around what was happening in my living room. "Um…I went out with a friend," I finally stammered.

  "That was pretty rude of you. I doubt Derek will ever want to come over again," she said, wagging her finger at me.

  "Oh, no Mrs. Anderson. I didn't mind waiting at all." What in the hell was going on with Derek? He sounded like he was talking to the president or something.

  A smile curled across my mother's face, and she raised her eyebrows at me. "Well, get in here, Baby. You've kept Derek waiting long enough." She snapped her fingers at my sister. "Phoebe. Get off the couch."

  Phoebe shot a shocked, resentful look at my mother, but instead Derek jumped up. "No, really. It's okay. We have to chart the position of Orion every hour. If we hurry we might have enough time to catch it before ten." He turned to me. "Are you ready to go?"

  "Uh, sure?"

  Derek reached out to shake my mother's hand. "Thanks so much for the Coke. It was really great to meet you."

  She rose to her feet. "You too. Baby's lucky to have you for a lab partner." She shrugged her right shoulder. "She's never been any good at science."

  Phoebe stood up too and batted her eyelashes. "Come back anytime."

  Derek smiled and nodded. He let go of my mom's hand and crossed to the door, giving me a wide berth. "Come on then. Let's get this assignment over with."

  He opened the door. It squealed loudly and he beckoned me through it, a look of impatience flashing across his face.

  Irritation, confusion, and curiosity warred for dominance within me, but curiosity won. I still pinged him with a dirty look before I brushed past. I almost thought I heard him whisper "nice touch" as I skirted by.

  I quick-stepped down the stairs and strode across the lawn, but Derek caught up to me and grabbed my elbow gently. "Not that way," he said in a soft voice. "We should go through the back."

  I shook my head and pulled against him. "My mom has dogs. They'll bark. My neighbor hates it."

  "No, you have to see something." Derek's hand slid down my arm to clasp my hand and he tugged me gently toward the back of the mobile home.

  We walked around the side of the trailer, and as I'd predicted, the dogs started yapping like crazy as soon as they heard our footsteps, but the voice that answered them totally surprised me. "Oh shut up you filthy fucking mutts." Illuminated by the bright, full moon, I saw Monica walk around the clapboard side of the dog pen. She had an armful of sloppy fabric, the remnants of what used to be my clothes. She threw them down in a larger pile and grimaced at it, her lips peeled back from her tiny teeth. She rubbed her arm vigorously across her nose before turning and trudging back around the corner.

  "I didn't want you to miss that," Derek whispered. He laced his fingers through mine and led me around the dogs' large pen and into the woods behind my house.

  "Did you…" my voice trailed off. "What's going on around here?"

  He led me deeper into the woods. "Give me just a few more minutes, then we'll be there and we'll talk," Derek said.

  I'd been in these woods before, but I couldn't imagine where 'there' might be. When we got to a small creek, Derek stepped into the middle of the stream, turned, and then lifted me by the waist like a doll and placed me on the other side of the water. "You don't need to get those shoes dirty," Derek said, stepping up onto the shallow bank and taking my hand again. He tugged and I continued to follow.

  We went another fifty yards or so, ducking under branches and weaving around tree trunks, until we came to a huge deciduous tree with branches that hung all the way to the ground like the hoop skirt on a Civil War debutante's dress. Derek headed straight for it. He held back one of the drooping branches and beckoned me under. "Come on in," he said.

  I ducked inside, then straightened and looked around in awe.
The branches really were like a hoop skirt. They belled out and away from the tree's trunk, hiding a clearing covered in soft leaves. It was like a fort for fairies. I looked up and saw that the leaves were sparse at the top of the tree where the branches began their curve, which allowed the moonlight to dapple us with leafy shadows.

  Derek sat down with his back to the tree trunk and patted the ground beside him. I sat on my knees, my feet tucked under me. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, resting his head against the bark. "I found this place when I was ten," he said. "I used to live on the other side of these woods." He opened his eyes. "If we'd kept walking for another ten minutes, we would have come out into my old neighborhood."

  "I haven't walked in the woods in a long time," I said. "Even when I did, I hardly ever crossed the creek."

  "Too bad. I bet it would've been nice to know you back then."

  Derek fell silent for a couple seconds, then his words poured out in a rush. "I'm sorry I said your house was a dump."

  I looked at the soft leaves beneath me and twisted my fingers in my lap. "It is a dump."

  "Yeah, but I'm still sorry." He pushed his fingers absently into the leafy carpet covering the ground. "You don't have to worry about Ashley saying anything about where you live, or that your mother's a prostitute or anything. She'll keep her mouth shut."

  I shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly and kept my eyes on his fingers kneading the leaves. "Not likely. By tomorrow everyone's going to know that the whore of Spokane Street is my mom. It won't be too long before people start to ask me if it's hereditary."

  I flicked my eyes up in time to see Derek shake his head. "She won't say anything. All I had to do was remind her that Kaia's not the only cheerleader that ever gave Chase a blowjob. She's just the only one who got caught."

  "No!" I gasped, my lips stretching into a grin. "Your mouth is full of lies!"

  His shoulders loosened and he leaned back on his palms. "It's the truth. Some wingman I am."

  "Thank you Derek," I said, shifting to sit cross-legged. I put my hand on top of his, and he removed his weight from his hands and leaned forward, taking my hand in both of his and crossing his legs so that his knees touched mine.