Broken Wings

by V. C. Andrews

  Taking care to make as little noise as possible, I made some coffee and had a small bowl of cereal. Afterward, I took a quick shower, dried myself and then went to change my tampon. I was so lost in thought about Keefer and his mother’s funeral, I didn’t at first realize the bathroom door had been opened. I looked up and saw Cory standing there, gaping at me, and I screamed, this time so shrilly and loud, he actually winced and jumped back, closing the door quickly.

  I dressed as fast as I could, the rage keeping me hot and frantic. Cory had retreated to his and Mother darling’s bedroom, but that didn’t matter to me now. As soon as I was dressed, I opened their door and shouted, “That was disgusting. You knew I was in there.”

  Mother darling was still in bed, her eyes closed. She turned and her eyelids fluttered open. Cory was standing at his closet. He was in his underwear and choosing a pair of jeans to wear.

  “Whaaa? What is it?” Mother darling asked.

  “He did it again. He just burst in on me and after he saw I was in there, he didn’t close the door. He just stood there gaping at me,” I accused.

  Cory smirked.

  “That’s a lot of crap. You didn’t give me a chance to close the door. You just went hysterical.”

  “Did you enjoy the view? Are you interested in women’s hygiene that much?”

  Cory looked at Mother darling.

  “Can you do something about her?”

  “Robin,” she began, sitting up and letting the blanket fall to her waist. Her nudity never shocked me, but her nudity with a man in the room did. I turned away. “I’m sure it was just an accident,” she began.

  “Right,” I said. “An accident. That’s exactly what he is, an accident. I bet his mother collected on collision insurance or something when he was born.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Robin.”

  “Forget it,” I said. “I’m going to work.”

  I slammed their door and rushed out of the apartment, my steps pounding the stairway and clicking over the walk. There wasn’t a bus for quite a while. I grew impatient and walked toward the next station. With the way my nerve endings were twanging and my stomach was churning, I couldn’t just sit and wait with the other people. It was a mistake because the bus arrived only five minutes later and passed me up on my way to the next stop. I ran, but I didn’t get there in time. Tired and disgusted, I flopped on the bench and waited again. This bus seemed to make more stops. By the time I arrived at the supermarket, I was just a minute or so late. Mr. Ritter jumped out at me the moment I entered.

  He didn’t speak. He pointed to his watch.

  “I missed the bus,” I began. “And the next one wasn’t as fast and…”

  “You have to anticipate such things, young lady. The trick is to start earlier, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “My policy is if you’re a minute late, you are still docked for an hour. My advice to you is be here early tomorrow to be sure you’re not late. If you were a minute or so more, I’d fire you, so count your blessings.”

  I mouthed a thank you and went in to get my apron. Everything made my cramps more intense this particular morning. People thought I was smiling, when I was really grimacing in agony. My bad luck continued. It turned out to be one of the busiest days of the week. I never stopped until my break for lunch.

  Instead of joining the other employees, I went outside and found a bench upon which to sit and eat one of the ready-made sandwiches the store sold. It was to be subtracted from my salary, of course. I ended up feeding most of it to the birds.

  When a lull came in the afternoon, Tammy Carol had me working at the frozen food freezer. She wanted everything taken out and rearranged neatly. It was hard because it was so cold my fingers became numb. If I paused too long, either she or Mr. Ritter was there to tell me I couldn’t leave the items out of the freezer too long. Get with it.

  My last shift as a packer was the hardest. I was so tired and cranky, I dropped a bottle of cranberry juice, which shattered at my feet.

  “That will come out of your salary,” Mr. Ritter told me instantly. “I want this cleaned up immediately. First, get our customer another bottle so she is not delayed another unnecessary second. Go!” he shouted.

  I hurried, clinging to this bottle for dear life, and returned. Then I started to clean up the mess. I cut my finger on a piece of glass, which enraged him even more.

  “Dropping blood everywhere now. Go in the back and use the first-aid kit. I should have my head examined. Cory owes me big time,” he eagerly announced.

  Finally, eight o’clock came and I punched out.

  “Remember,” Mr. Ritter said as I was leaving, “get here early tomorrow.”

  I nodded and left. I was in such a daze that for a moment, I had forgotten Keefer was going to be there. He actually had to sound his horn. I turned and saw him waving from the battered vehicle. Never so glad to see him, I ran to the car and he got out to embrace me.

  “Hey,” he said. “You look worse than me.”

  “I had a terrible day,” I said, and rattled every moment off in minutes. Then I remembered what his day had to be like and asked him how it went.

  “It was hard. My father was in a stupor, which was good. He actually looked like he didn’t know who I was. Charlie was great. I stayed after everyone left and had my last conversation with her,” he added, his eyes getting glassy. He took a deep breath.

  I kissed his cheek and squeezed his arm gently. He shook his head.

  “I can’t stay here,” he said. “I thought I could work it through, get another job for a while, but I just want to get away.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “I’m miserable back at that apartment, and they really don’t want me around.” I told him what a creep Cory Lewis was and how I was devastated by my mother always taking his side no matter what.

  “She’s dependent on him now.” He looked back at the supermarket. “You have an idea about how much money the cashier checks out when the shift is changed?”

  “I don’t know. I think about twenty-five hundred or so. Why?”

  “I’d like to borrow it,” he said.

  “What?”

  “It’s an easy robbery. I thought about it even before you began to work for a supermarket.”

  “Really?” My heart began to thump.

  He shrugged, and then he reached under the seat and brought out a pistol. I thought all the breath left my body. It was one thing to shoplift—some of my friends back in Ohio actually thought it was a game—but a gun!

  “Where did you get that?”

  “It’s Izzy’s, but he doesn’t even remember he has it half the time. Don’t worry. There are no bullets in it, but no one would know, of course. What I want to do is walk in just as the cashier finishes checking her receipts and do it and walk out. We’ll leave right from there.”

  “But I can make enough money in a month or so and—”

  “I don’t want to wait,” he said sharply.

  “But didn’t you say Izzy wasn’t selling for a month and—”

  “You don’t have to be part of it if you don’t want to, Robin. I’ll understand. Just pretend you don’t know who I am.”

  I stared at him for a moment, and then I looked at the gun and sat back. He waited as I thought.

  Could I do this? Should I? What would life be like here after Keefer left? How long could I stand it, anyway? What was I leaving? Mother darling had a new family: her band and all the people who would be involved in her career. I would always be on the outside or sitting in some dark corner waiting for her to remember me, and when she did, it wouldn’t be a memory of joy; it would be a memory of obligation. All I did was remind her of one of her big mistakes in life.

  I nodded slowly and then turned to him.

  “Okay, Keefer. Let’s do it. Let’s get as far away from here and everything that is here as we can.”

  He smiled.

  “Okay, here’s my plan. Don’t cause any undo
suspicion by packin‘ a bag or somethin’. Choose whatever is so important to you that you can’t leave it behind and let’s get it out tonight so you leave for work lookin‘ just like you did this mornin’. We’ll have enough money to buy you whatever you need along the way.”

  “There’s nothing I want,” I told him, “nothing to get tonight.”

  “Same here,” he said, nodding in understanding.

  Then he got excited again. “We’ve got this SUV that was in a multiple-car accident two days ago. The back end is smashed in so that the door can’t be opened, but the taillights still work and there’s nothin‘ wrong with the engine. It’s perfect. The owner left for a meeting and a few days’ vacation in Florida. We’ll use it and dump it somewhere. I know exactly how to do all this, so don’t worry,” he assured me.

  “But you’ve never robbed anyone, Keefer, have you? How do you know what to do?”

  “It’s not that hard, and it will only take a few minutes at the most. In and out, and then we’re gone,” he added, “gone for good. Believe me, it’s easy.”

  “I believe you, but I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight just thinking about it,” I said.

  “Yeah. I know what you mean. I wish we could be together, but that would set off all sorts of alarms and make tomorrow impossible. I won’t even take you all the way back now. I’ll let you out about a block or so from the complex. Do exactly what they want you to do so you don’t cause any suspicions or concern, okay?”

  I nodded.

  He kissed me and then we both looked at the supermarket a moment. Suddenly, the place I hated more than anywhere was the source of new hope.

  “I guess you’ll feel a little funny takin‘ their money, huh?” Keefer asked.

  I laughed.

  “Are you kidding? There’s no one I’d rather rob from than that manager. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

  Keefer smiled, started the engine, and drove off. We were both pensive until he reached the block where he thought I should get out and walk the rest of the way.

  “All we need is Kathy Ann to see us together and blab,” he said.

  “She’ll have plenty to blab about when it’s over.”

  We looked at each other silently.

  “If you change your mind for any reason…” he began.

  “I won’t. Don’t worry about it.” I leaned over to kiss him, and then I got out of the vehicle. He remained there looking after me as I walked away.

  My heart wasn’t pounding anymore, but it was acting strangely—ticking like a time bomb. My whole body felt strange, in fact. I thought I had lost all my weight and would soon start to rise off the sidewalk and float with the wind like some balloon that was released.

  Off I would go into the distance, growing smaller and smaller until I became a thin memory, easily forgotten.

  By now I was sure Grandpa had forgotten me. Good riddance to that child of sin, he probably thought, and went about his work with a sense of relief. He no longer had to worry about the devil moving in and out of his home, threatening his precious pure soul.

  And Mother darling… she would surely turn my running away into a song.

  Off she went into the night, thinking there was nowhere she belonged,

  My accidental daughter who came and went like a dream to be remembered only when dark clouds warned us of another storm.

  My accidental daughter.

  That’s not bad, I thought as I strolled slowly back to the apartment.

  Maybe I’ll just write it down and leave it for her so she would have something from me she could use.

  It was already something of far more value than anything I would take from her.

  12

  Strike Three

  As I had predicted, I couldn’t sleep. First, I tried tiring myself further by watching television until nearly one in the morning. My eyes did close and open, close and open. I thought I had dulled my teeming brain enough and finally rose, turned off the set, and went to bed. For a few minutes, I actually did sleep, but then I woke with a twitch that nearly sent me flying off the bed. My eyes snapped open, and all the thoughts, plans, and words Keefer and I had exchanged came flooding back. My heart started to pound.

  Hours later, I heard Mother darling and Cory return. They were both obviously drunk. They didn’t seem to care how loudly they talked. I heard their great excitement. Mother darling’s songs and the band had gone over exceedingly well, I gathered. I heard her keep saying, “Ten weeks! We have a guaranteed ten weeks there!”

  “Next stop, the Grand Ole Opry,” Cory cried, and they clinked bottles of beer. Then they broke out in one of Mother darling’s songs:

  “My heart is a prison and you ‘ve got the key,

  But darlin’ there’s no prisoner I’d rather be.”

  I couldn’t help lying there and envying Mother darling’s happiness. Everything I heard her say was about her and Cory and the band. There was no mention of me. It was truly as if I wasn’t there; I never existed. I buried my face in the pillow and tried to shut out their cries of joy. They were up celebrating for at least another hour or so before they finally collapsed in bed. Their laughter lingered in the silence. I fought harder to get some sleep, and some time just before the first glittering rays of morning, it came.

  I woke up and groaned and turned over and fell asleep again, this time not waking until nearly eleven. Panic nearly froze me in bed. I leaped out and dressed as quickly as I could. It had been my intention to review all my possessions, despite what I had told Keefer, so I could decide if there was anything dear to me. Now, all I could do was throw some cold water on my face, run a brush through my hair, and hurry out to make the bus. If I was late today, Mr. Ritter would surely do what he threatened and fire me on the spot. That would mess up Keefer’s whole plan.

  For a moment or two, I hesitated at Mother darling’s bedroom door. I was leaving without saying any sort of good-bye, any final words. We might not speak to each other for some time, I thought. How would she really react? Would she breathe a sigh of relief and go on happily with her developing music career? Would she spend a few hours worrying about me or regretting how I had been treated? I imagined Cory telling her not to waste any time thinking about me. I wasn’t worth it, not after all they had done for me. Like that was anything significant.

  Neither she nor I had called Grandma and Grandpa to tell them we were fine. I knew she believed they thought good riddance when they thought of us, but I couldn’t believe that completely. Grandma surely worried, and despite his harsh, cold ways, Grandpa had to give us some thought. People, family people, surely just don’t dispose of each other like empty milk cartons or something, do they?

  Maybe they do, I thought. I couldn’t be more confused when it came to all that. All that seemed concrete and sure to me at the moment was Keefer’s devotion, Keefer’s dreams and plans, because everything included me. I was made a big part of it. I was important to someone finally, someone who needed me about as much as I needed him. That’s a gift, I thought. That’s a stroke of luck that’s come my way, and I can’t just toss it aside. For what would I give it up, anyway? This?

  I looked around the disheveled apartment with their clothes strewn about, the empty beer bottles on the table and floor, Mother darling’s boots staring at me. That’s it, I realized. I’ll take those. At least, I’d have something of hers. I scooped them up and left the apartment, closing the door softly behind me.

  Stay asleep, Mother darling. You’re better off, I thought, and hurried down the stairs.

  I was lucky with the bus and made it to the supermarket ten minutes early. Now came the hard part— working until the first cashier shift ended. I had to keep up that plastic smile, look calm and innocent. Despite that, I couldn’t help but gaze out the window, anticipating Keefer’s arrival. When I finally did see him pull up to the curb outside, I think my heart stopped and started. The blood drained from my face, and I fumbled with the groceries.

  “You a
ll right?” the cashier, Betty Blue Nickols, asked. I had worked with her before and found her to be pleasant. She was an older woman, close to fifty, I thought. The regular customers knew her by name and obviously liked her. Many exchanged small talk with her as she worked, talking about their children or their other family members as if she really knew them. It brought a warmth to an otherwise very cold and impersonal world, I thought.

  “I’m fine,” I said quickly.

  My eyes went to the big clock on the left wall. In ten minutes, Betty Blue would be closing out her register. Keefer was sitting in the battered SUV, watching me through the window, waiting for my signal. Every minute that clicked off brought more blood to my face. My skin felt like it was on fire. Did I have a fever? The inside of my throat became dry as well. My hands trembled around the groceries I packed. At one point Mr. Ritter came around and looked hard at me, his eyebrows turning in like two annoyed caterpillars. I held my breath, and then he walked off to help a customer.

  Betty Blue closed her register and put up her sign to indicate her aisle was shutting down. Then she opened her register again to begin to count her cash. I turned slowly, and looked out at Keefer. This was the moment of decision. If there was a good angel on one of my shoulders, he or she was asleep. I nodded emphatically and he got out of the SUV and strutted toward the supermarket entrance.

  I was supposed to move over to the next cashier, but I hesitated long enough for Keefer to come in and approach Betty Blue, who looked up with surprise.