Coming Soon

by Christy Gissendaner

  The next morning, I found the puppy in the middle of the road. Her lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, probably with the same expression she’d had when she’d been driven over by an unknown motorist.

  I felt like that puppy. Flattened by fate. Abandoned by those who’d promised to care for me. I wasn’t nine anymore, but the loneliness and guilt was hard to shake even half a lifetime later.

  Huddled outside The Awfully Good Cafe, I tucked my hands in the pockets of the lime green apron and wished my boss would hurry and unlock the doors. I’d arrived early for my seven o’clock shift, but I hadn’t wanted to spend a minute more in my uncle’s house, pretending to ignore the leers he gave me over his cup of instant coffee.

  Juanita, one of the cooks, stood beside me. She took a final drag on her menthol light and dropped it on the sidewalk, stubbing it out with the toe of her sneaker. “Goddamn Pete. I think he gets off on making us wait out here.”

  I silently agreed, not wanting to risk my boss overhearing me complain. Pete had been a friend of my father’s, and he’d given me the job out of kindness. He didn’t like to hire high school students, but he’d make an exception for me the past summer. I didn’t want to give him any reason to fire me. I needed the money.

  I’d saved my wages for the past eight weeks, amassing a measly six hundred dollars, but the thought of the money tucked away in my savings account made me believe I had plans after graduation. College was out of the picture. I couldn’t afford it, even if I received scholarships.

  Once, I’d imagined I would go to the state university, follow in my mother’s footsteps and get a degree in the medical field. Those plans fell by the wayside. It was more imperative I leave Tom’s house.

  Juanita pulled her disorderly black curls into a high ponytail and tucked a pin in her bangs to hold them away from her face. “You got a boyfriend yet?”

  Juanita’s direct way of speaking took time to get used to, but the question was one she often asked me. “Not yet. I don’t have time for boys.”

  Juanita hummed and tucked another pin in her hair. “There’s always time for boys at your age. What are you now? Seventeen?”

  “Eighteen,” I answered and bent down to retie my shoelace. “My birthday was last week.”

  “Happy late birthday.” Juanita glanced at the door and cursed. “Fucking Pete. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

  I cast a look at her thick, flannel jacket. At least she had it. The knit sweater I wore over my waitress uniform provided little warmth. Contrary to what I’d told Jase the day before, Santa hadn’t seen fit to bring me a coat.

  A late model sedan turned into the parking lot. Juanita and I both turned to watch Pete heave himself out of the creaky door and plod toward us.

  Pete had once been an attractive guy, a star quarterback and renowned ladies’ man according to my dad, but the years hadn’t been kind to him. He moved like someone much older than forty, courtesy of the bad knees he’d developed from so many years playing contact sports.

  “Morning, ladies.” Pete pulled out a large key ring and unlocked the door.

  Juanita breezed past him with a casual greeting. I waited for Pete to enter first, but he ushered me inside the warmth of the cafe ahead of him. “Ladies first.”

  Pete was a good guy. Despite bickering with Juanita, which I suspected was due to a failed romance, he was a kind boss, one who worked around my schedule. He said little to me, but had to know I needed the money. Or maybe he felt sorry for me. Either way, I was grateful to him. I made up for the shame of being a charity case by becoming the best employee possible.

  The morning passed quickly. The regulars trickled in and ordered coffee to combat their hangovers. I hefted platters of omelets and French toast most of the shift, tucking the tips away in my apron.

  A girlish voice drew my attention to a crowd of young people who’d entered the cafe. Jackie Whitmore, my ex-best friend and Jase’s sister.

  I swiped my towel over the extra-large booth’s table and motioned them over. Jackie brushed past me. She was soft and warm, rose-scented when I smelled like overcooked bacon. “Hey, Jackie.”

  Jackie’s friends, three blonde girls, slid into the booth with not even a glance in my direction. Since my parents’ deaths, I’d become even more of an outcast to them. It saved me the trouble of having to talk back. I took their drink orders, noting the mint hot chocolates on the tiny notepad in my hands.

  “Jase come see you yesterday?”

  I tucked the notepad into my pocket and nodded.

  Jackie straightened her red velvet headband and sighed. “My parents were furious when he dipped out during Christmas dinner.”

  I detected the hint of curiosity in her voice. She wanted to know where we’d gone, but our trips to the cemetery were private. Not something I’d share with anyone. I hadn’t known he’d blown off the Whitmore’s dinner though. Next time I saw him, I’d give him an earful. Family came first. Always.

  “Jase is sooo hot,” cooed one of the blonde lookalikes. She seemed familiar, but I didn’t remember her name.

  A second blonde shoved the girl who’d spoken. “You think everyone is hot.”

  “Shut up,” the girl replied with a shove of her own.

  I watched them, envy mixed with aversion. When was the last time I’d sat with friends, enjoying nothing but gossip and boys? Not since my parents’ deaths and probably way before then.

  “I should get back to work.” I spoke to no one in particular. Jackie didn’t stop me, and I plodded my way behind the counter to prepare the hot chocolates.

  “Friends of yours?” Juanita asked and flipped a stack of pancakes onto a plate with an expert flick of her wrist.

  I squirted mint flavoring into four ceramic mugs and added a dollop of whipped cream on top of each. “Not anymore.”

  “Good. I never trusted blondes.”

  I made a sound halfway between a snort and a chuckle. “I’m blonde.”

  “Not like them,” Juanita added with a dismissive look toward Jackie and her friends.

  I caught sight of my reflection in the chrome soda dispenser. Plain. Blonde. But Juanita was right. Not like them. Where the other girls had perfect, platinum styles, my hair was a dirty blonde that hung to my shoulders with a definite lack of bounce.

  I delivered their drinks and took their orders before turning my attention to the other customers. Most of them had been generous that morning, and the wads of bills in my pockets were larger than any I’d earned before. I didn’t realize my shift ended until Laura, one of the other waitresses, tapped me on the shoulder. I finished my tasks and went to clock out.

  Outside, the temperature had dropped. The sun remained behind clouds and the wind carried a brisk chill. I unlocked my bike from the rack and prepared to push it to the parking lot.

  “Cara.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. Jackie stood beside her sporty, red car. Alone. I pushed my bike over to her and dropped the kickstand. “Yeah?”

  “What’s with you and my brother?”

  Tact had never been one of Jackie’s strong points, but the question threw me for a loop. “What do you mean?”

  Jackie zipped her white, down jacket to her throat and adjusted the red scarf about her neck. “No guy Jase’s age hangs out with a high school girl unless there’s a reason.”

  A chill that had nothing to do with the weather trickled down my spine. “It’s not like that with us. You know that.”

  “Then what is it like?” Jackie’s chirpy voice grew hard. “Why is my brother abandoning his family on Christmas Day to rush to you?”

  Jackie couldn’t be jealous. Why would she? She and her brother had never been close. “What is this about, Jackie?”

  “I just think it’s weird. Jase has a girlfriend. We met her yesterday. He shouldn’t be hanging out with you so much.”

  Shock held me immobile for a second. He hadn’t told me about bringing a girl home to meet the family. And he’d left her to
go to the cemetery with me? “A girlfriend?”

  Jackie nodded. “He didn’t tell you about her? She’s very pretty.”

  Jase had always been popular with girls, but I’d never known him to keep a new relationship from me. “I need to get home.”

  Lie. Going home was the absolute last thing I wanted, but I couldn’t take Jackie any longer. I was too raw. Exposed.

  “He’ll never want you,” Jackie called to my retreating back. “He’s just sorry for you.”

  Sorry for you. The words replayed over and over again. Her cruel taunt reminded me where I stood. No one looked at me anymore. If they did, all they saw were the headlines and malicious gossip.

  For the first time in weeks, I felt the darkness overtake me. I stood in the small bathroom of my uncle’s house and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Down-turned lips. A permanent pout. Dark circles beneath my brown eyes.

  I grabbed a razor and peeled the plastic away from the blade. It was small, dull. But it would do.

  I shoved down the waist of my baggy jeans and propped my foot on the edge of the tub. The blade sank into my skin, forming a short scratch across my thigh. Blood welled, and I watched it trickle across my pale skin. Pain and loneliness welled with the blood. Cutting helped when nothing else did. My thighs contained several fading scratches. Seldom did I cut deep enough to leave a scar, always careful to hide the evidence of my secret shame.

  I tossed the razor in the trash and used a wad of toilet paper to wipe the blood from my leg. I straightened my clothing, left the bathroom, and bumped into my uncle.

  Tom grinned at me, holding me a second longer than he should have, especially with Aunt Betty right there in the living room. He licked his lips and gave me the once-over. “I can’t wait to touch you. I’ve got a present to give you.”

  My senses spiraled out of control, and I gasped for air. Never. He’d never approached me during the day time. The lust in his eyes and the press of his erection against me made my stomach roil with revulsion. He wouldn’t stop with just touching me. He’d rape me. There was no doubt in my mind.

  “Cara! Can you bring my book? The one with the millionaire who falls for the virgin?”

  Betty’s lazy request saved me. “I’ll be right there,” I hollered back, and ducked past Tom to fetch the paperback and hurry to my aunt.

  Safety. But I didn’t fool myself by thinking it was anything but temporary.

  That night, I packed my meager belongings. I waited until Tom and Betty went to bed before I tossed a bag out the window and scurried outside. I knew the routine. Tom would pretend to go to sleep with his wife before leaving his room and coming to mine. I planned to escape before he left their bedroom.

  After double-checking my wallet to make sure my debit card was inside, I grabbed my bag and the bike I’d parked out front. Instead of putting it in the garage, I’d left it in the yard earlier, not wanting to risk the squeak of the garage door.

  The seat was cold beneath my butt, but I set off down the darkened street, grateful for the small, intermittent circles of light which came from the streetlights. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away from Tom. The sooner, the better.

  Hours passed and the night grew colder than I thought possible. I’d worn two sweaters and a pair of tights beneath my jeans, but it didn’t combat the chill sinking deep in my bones.

  My phone rang about an hour later. I didn’t answer. It would be Tom, frantic to know why I’d disappeared in the middle of the night. Probably scared I’d gone to the police with my story. He’d made me swear not to tell anyone, that it was our secret, enough times for me to know he was terrified of being ousted as a sexual predator.

  I should’ve done it. Gone to the police and told them every disgusting, sordid detail, but I wouldn’t give people another reason to pity me. Gossip moved rampant in Vestavia Hills, and I’d had enough of it to last a lifetime.

  When Jackie had decided not to be my friend anymore in junior high, she’d turned into the quintessential mean girl, picking on me and starting rumors that even now made me shudder. I’d kept a few of my friends, but I’d pushed them away after my parents’ deaths.

  Why had I done it? Pushed everyone away until there was no one left but Jase?

  My phone rang over and over again until I finally shut it off. I pedaled my bike to the nearest ATM and withdrew as much money from my savings account as it would let me. I stuffed the twenties in my bra, where I’d hidden the day’s wages, and rested my aching legs. The brick wall I lounged upon was cold, but it steadied me, kept me on my feet when I wanted to collapse into a heap on the sidewalk.

  Where could I go? Jase was the obvious choice. The only choice if I was honest with myself, but I hesitated to call him.

  Jackie’s words from earlier taunted me. Even though I didn’t want Jase in that way, it hurt to know he’d found someone and hadn’t told me. Was there a reason he’d not introduced me to his girlfriend? Was he embarrassed about me too?

  My stomach growled, and I pressed a hand to it. Since I hadn’t eaten supper, hunger gnawed my insides. There was a twenty-four hour convenience store up the road. I’d head there and decide where to go next.

  I climbed on my bike and set off for the store. After I’d bought a soda and a bag of chips, I sat in the well-lit parking lot and scarfed my less-than-nutritious selection. It was after midnight, but the store experienced heavy customer traffic. I stayed near the door, hoping the cashier wouldn’t notice me loitering.

  A convertible pulled up and two women tumbled out of it, followed by a man so drop dead gorgeous a chip missed my mouth.

  The girls wore tight, short dresses with perfect make-up and hair. They were nothing like I’d seen before in Vestavia Hills.

  Although it was rude to stare, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. The trio didn’t seem to notice me. They laughed and talked, entering the store as if were a red carpet premiere instead of a twenty-four seven gas station.

  I finished my makeshift dinner and tossed the trash into a garbage can. I wiped my greasy hands on my thighs and took a moment to stretch my legs. My muscles ached, both from exposure to the cold and the long bike ride. I wasn’t used to physical exercise, at least not to such an extent. I borrowed the key to the restroom and returned it right as the three beautiful people came up to the counter.

  The man caught my gaze and gave me a lazy smile which made my heart race. He was so freaking cute, but much too old for me. At least mid-thirties.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” he said in a soft, cultured voice.

  I gave him a half-smile and left the store, embarrassed by the blush heating my face. I’d never been very good at talking to boys. And a grown man? I’d be better off remaining mute.

  I fetched my bike, prepared to leave, when the trio came outside. The man waved at me, but it was enough to draw the attention of one of the girls. She turned her beautiful face my way and motioned me forward. “Come here.”

  I don’t know why I did as she asked. Normally I wasn’t friendly with strangers, but something about the calm, assessing way she looked at me reassured me. I pushed my bike toward her, my hands clenched tightly around the handlebars.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  Odd question, but one I answered nonetheless. “Eighteen.”

  “Hmm.” She tossed a glance at her friends and looked back at me. “Have you ever done any acting?”

  “Me?” I’d never been comfortable in front of crowds. I’d left the school plays and musicals to Jackie, who always imagined herself the star of the show. “Not really.”

  “Posey, get serious,” the second girl said with a laugh. “She looks scared to death. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking,” the first girl said with a sharp glance, “she’d be perfect. Dagger said he wanted someone fresh.”

  “Fresh, but not completely green. She’d never do.”

  I had no clue what they were talking about, but suddenly I was very interes
ted. “I’m not green.”

  The second girl cut me a glance, but her lips remained curved in amusement. “Seriously, Mark. Talk her out of this.”

  Mark, obviously the handsome guy with them, studied me with a careful eye. His sky blue stare moved from the top of my head to the toes of my ragged sneakers. “She could be a diamond in the rough. Dagger does like blondes.”

  “Gah,” the girl I quickly came to detest threw her hands in the air and stalked to the car. “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

  Mark and Posey stayed where they were. Both of them stared at me until I was quite sure something was wrong with them. I didn’t need any more crazy in my life.

  “Well, good night.” I pushed my bike forward.

  Posey held out her hand and extended a bright pink flyer to me. “Take this. You should consider coming to auditions. I really think you’d be perfect.”

  I took the flyer out of politeness and tucked it into my back pocket. “Thank you.”

  Mark, in all-too-knowing a way, glanced at my bike. “It’s good money and easy work.”

  The flyer I’d ignored suddenly grew more interesting. I waited until they’d gone before I retrieved it, unfolding it and flattening out the wrinkles to read the bold, black print.

  Actresses Needed for a Dagger Production. Apply in person at 9 a.m. on December 28 at 2115 Piedmont Plaza, Birmingham, AL.

  That was it. No mention of what the production’s details. Simple. Sweet. To the point. Since I couldn’t return to my job at The Awfully Good Café and risk Tom finding me, it might be worth checking out. I’d need money to make it on my own. The few hundred dollars I had wouldn’t go far.

  I returned the flyer to my pocket and continued on my hunt for a place to spend the night.

  Chapter Three

  A small, two story building between a printing shop and a bakery housed Dagger Productions. The building the flyer directed me to was nondescript brick. If not for the tiny engraved plaque out front, I would’ve walked right by it.

  I wasn’t sure what acting skills were required, but I gathered the miniscule amount of courage I had and entered the foyer. A large sign containing what had to be the company motto scrolled Leave Your Inhibitions at the Door in neon green.