Page 9 of Broken Wings


  “I’m listening,” I said, a little too petulantly. I knew that the moment I uttered the words, and then I held my breath.

  She glared hard at me for a long moment before she turned to Mother darling.

  “You have a serious parental responsibility here, Mrs. Taylor. I hope you are impressed with this fact and you will devote more time and energy to your daughter’s upbringing and behavior.”

  Mother darling nodded. She looked like she was going to burst out in tears any moment. I wanted to poke her with my elbow and make sure she didn’t embarrass us both. She bit down on her lower lip and nodded again.

  “Very well. The matter is resolved for now,” Judge Babcock said.

  The public defender, who had done little more than instruct me to plead guilty and be polite to the judge, smiled at us and indicated we could leave.

  I heard another name called and saw a boy who didn’t look much older than ten being brought in with a man who had his hand firmly around the back of the boy’s neck. I thought, if that’s his father, he would be better off being sent to a juvenile detention center.

  “I hope you appreciate the break you just received, young lady,” the public defender said.

  “She doesn’t, but I’ll make sure she does,” Mother darling told him.

  “You don’t want to come back here,” he said. “That’s one hard judge.”

  Mother darling thanked him, and then she hurried us out of the courthouse.

  “I swear,” she muttered as we drove back to Cory’s apartment, “I don’t know where you get that belligerent streak that’s in you.”

  “Maybe from my mysterious father,” I suggested. “Hey,” I said, nearly bouncing on the seat, “that’s how you can tell who my father was. Which of the dozen or so men you slept with that night was most like me?”

  She looked at me as if she wasn’t sure whether I was being serious or not, and then she smirked and shook her head.

  “Keep it up, Robin. Keep punishing me for your own failin‘ and faults. See what it gets you in the end.”

  “You mean this isn’t the end already?” I retorted.

  She tightened her face and drove the rest of the way in silence. Inside, I felt like brittle china that had just been hit hard and was full of deep cracks. It would take only a small nudge to have it fall completely apart.

  Cory seemed only vaguely interested in what had happened to me in court. He said, “Kids her age get away with murder these days.” The judge’s decision only reinforced his views. Anyway, he didn’t want to spend any time talking about me. He had a big announcement to make to Mother darling.

  “Bill Renner, a scout for Reliable Records, was at our club last night. I just got a call. He liked your song, ‘Ridin’ on a Dream.‘ He wants us to go down to the studio to talk to him about cuttin’ a record. I already told Del and Ernie. You go in and put on your best outfit,” he continued. “Fix yourself up real good, Kay. I want him to see the possibilities for photos, covers, advertisements immediately.”

  Mother darling squealed with delight and then ran into his arms. He spun her around. They looked like two happy kids. I couldn’t prevent the soft smile that came to my lips, but then, thinking about where I had just been, I couldn’t help feeling even more like the lead weight around Mother darling’s ankles Cory accused me of being. This was their success, not mine, their dreams coming true. There was no room in that for me.

  How I envied them both for the looks of joy and elation on their faces. Mother darling’s eyes brightened like a little girl’s. Her face blossomed before me, and Cory looked really satisfied with himself.

  “Do I know what I’m talking about or don’t I?” he asked her.

  “You know, Cory, oh, boy, do you know.”

  She paused to look at me.

  “Oh, be happy for us all, Robin. This is a very big opportunity, and it’s one of my songs, my songs!”

  “I’m happy,” I said. “I’m so happy, I could turn into a bubble and burst.”

  Her smile froze. Cory curled his lip.

  “Good luck,” I said, and went to my bedroom.

  “Forget about her,” he said. “We’ve got to concentrate on this chance and put all our energy toward it.”

  I could hear their happy voices as they dressed and prepared themselves in the next room. I lay on the bed staring up at the pale white ceiling and tried to think of a dream for myself. Where would I go someday? What would ever make me that happy? Maybe people who are in limbo like me never have any dreams. We just float from one boring moment to another.

  I must have dozed off for a while because when I opened my eyes, it looked like twilight. My bedroom door was open, but I heard no one. I listened hard, then I looked at my watch and saw it was already after five. They had to have left. Mother darling probably had stopped by to show me what she looked like and she found me asleep. I was sure she had dressed in that frilly short skirt and sequin-covered blouse that had a matching hat and boots. It was her favorite outfit, and I had to admit she looked like a star in those clothes.

  There was a note on the refrigerator.

  I left you some money on the kitchen table. Get yourself a pizza or something. I’ll call later.

  Kay

  She couldn’t even sign it “Mother.” Was she really afraid someone would see this and know? I crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage. Then I scooped up the money and marched out of the apartment. When I walked out of the complex, I looked to the right and saw Kathy Ann peeking out between the curtains of her front window. Deliberately, I waved vigorously at her and the curtain closed instantly.

  Laughing, I hurried down the street and took the bus downtown. All I could think of was Keefer. For now he was my dream and I was happy only when I was with him. The lights in the body shop window were like the lights of a lighthouse beaming protectively into the darkness of my world. The only safe harbor I had was within his embrace.

  I entered the shop. Tools were out on the floor. The radio was blasting at its usual volume, but I didn’t see him.

  “Keefer?”

  I looked at the small office, but it was dark. I walked around the cars that were there for repair and then I started toward the door to his apartment. Where else would he be? I thought, and realized he might have stepped out to buy some beer or something.

  When I opened the door, I heard a groan. My first thought was that something terrible had happened to him. Either he had gotten hurt in the shop or his drunken father had come looking for him and beaten him up again.

  Then I heard her laugh and saw her rise up on the sofa. She was half-naked, her breasts gleaming in the light from the small lamp. She saw me and cried out. A second later, Keefer appeared and they both looked at me. My surprise and shock had nailed my feet to the floor, even though all I could think of doing was turning and running.

  “Why, look who’s here, Keefer. Robin. You come to have Keefer fix somethin‘ for you, honey?” Charlotte Lily teased as she reached for her blouse and slipped it over her head.

  Keefer pushed her off him, buckled his pants, and stood.

  “No, looks like you’re the one getting fixed tonight, Charlotte Lily,” I said, the tears burning under my eyelids because I refused to let them emerge.

  She laughed.

  “I thought he wasn’t worth the time of day,” I said, my anger now replacing my shock. “Slummin‘ tonight?”

  She laughed again, but with less confidence. Keefer glanced at her and then took a deep breath and started toward me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Keefer, unless she was a big disappointment. That’s probably most likely,” I added, threw her a cold smile, and then turned and left the apartment, closing the door hard behind me.

  I heard her laugh again and then Keefer tell her to shut up.

  When I was outside the shop and on the street, I permitted my tears to escape. I flicked them off my cheeks and walked quickly away.


  I kept walking, at first in no particular direction, and then in the direction of the apartment. It was a long walk. Cars rushed by me, sometimes the drivers sounding their horns because I was too far in the street. Every once in a while, I felt like throwing myself in front of one, but the prospect of all that pain without being killed right off frightened me.

  Somewhere in the city behind me, with all its lights blazing excitement, the music rolling out into the streets, people laughing and joking, enjoying their vacations or their evening with friends, somewhere out there, Mother darling was singing her heart out, reaching for her dream.

  I was as far from her thoughts as I could be, so far, in fact, it was as if I had never been born.

  Maybe I wasn’t, I thought. Maybe this is all just a bad dream, and I’m still sleeping in that never-never land where souls exist until they are chosen to be born. I was like an orphan passed over time and time again. Not this one, she’s not ready to be in the world, I heard the angels say.

  “Just keep dreaming, honey. Just keep dreaming. We’ll tell you when it’s time to wake up.”

  Even promises in heaven are broken, I thought.

  9

  Always Us Against Them

  After marching along the highway for nearly half an hour, I felt a pair of headlights remain on me.

  Here I go again, I thought. The police. Someone probably complained about a young girl walking on the highway. I heard the horn, and then I stepped aside and turned in anticipation.

  It was Keefer in Izzy’s truck.

  “Get in, Robin,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Just get in. I need to talk to you. You’ve got a ways to go, and you’re in the middle of all this traffic. Don’t be stupid.”

  “Why should I change now?” I replied. “Seems all I do is stupid things.”

  “Stop it. Get in. I need to talk to you.”

  A car came up behind him, and the driver leaned hard and long on his horn.

  I could see Keefer wasn’t going to move and that might soon create even more trouble, so I got into the truck and he drove on.

  “I’m sorry about what happened back there, but I never told you I was a saint, Robin. Did I?”

  “No.”

  “And I never thought you were one, either,” he said.

  That made me laugh.

  “There are a few people who would agree with that,” I said.

  “The truth is, I got drunk and she came in, teasing me like she always does. I feel bad about it because I know she did it because she was jealous and just wanted to hurt you, and I let her do it.”

  “You didn’t even call to see what happened to me today,” I fired back at him.

  “I know. I was thinking of it, but I got drunk.”

  “Why did you get so drunk during the day?” I asked. From what I could see, Keefer was usually very reliable when he was working. He was good at what he did and he took pride in the results.

  “Izzy gave me some bad news today. He’s selling the shop. The new owner is going to take over in about a month, and I’m out. He said his wife was tired of them livin‘ here, and he was going to work with his brother in Florida.”

  “So? You were planning on leaving someday anyway, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, but after I had some money saved. You don’t just pick up and go without enough money. I might not get a job that quick, and you need to put down money for rent or a hotel, and you got to have travel money.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “I can’t ask her for anything. She’s just getting by as it is. I can tell. Besides, I don’t want to live off someone else. I want to be on my own.”

  “I don’t have any money, or I’d give it to you,” I said, and I meant it.

  “Thanks. I believe that.”

  We were both quiet for a while, both staring ahead at the traffic.

  “I’m really sorry about Charlotte Lily. We went together once. I always knew she was toying around with me. She can’t be serious about anyone. Her family is well off and she lives in a nice house and all, but she’s always unhappy and always out to make someone who is happy unhappy.

  “Talk about being stupid, that’s me. I let her manipulate me. She’s like a devil or somethin‘, comin’ in just when I’m feelin‘ sorry for myself,” he said. “And then the luck of it all with you poppin’ over just at that time. Damn.”

  “I guess I have no right to think I own you or anything, Keefer. We made no promises, and as to finding you with her, well, I’m not one to think she can judge someone else. However,” I added after a short pause, “I will confess it hurt.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. Really,” he said. “I ain’t never gonna have anything to do with her again. She might have nice clothes and jewelry and all, but she’s a tramp compared to you.”

  “I won’t go that far,” I said, and then shook my head, “but I’ll let you.”

  He laughed.

  “So, tell me what happened today. You’re out on the street, so I guess they didn’t sentence you to prison.”

  “I’m on two years’ probation.”

  “Ah, that don’t mean nothin‘,” he said. “Half the city is on probation. You hungry?”

  “Starving,” I said.

  “Let me take you to a great place,” he said, and whipped the truck down a street on the right. A few minutes later, we bounced over a gravel driveway to park at a restaurant with a pig lit up in pink lights. The place was called Porky’s Hideaway. “Best ribs in town,” he said.

  The restaurant was one big room, with a band playing what I called hillbilly music, but which Keefer said was really more Cajun style. The food was out in a buffet, and for ten dollars you could eat all you wanted. Besides the ribs, there were Buffalo wings, chicken legs, fish sticks, potatoes, vegetables, all sorts of breads, and a variety of desserts. My stomach churned in anticipation.

  We piled our plates high and found a table. The restaurant was nearly full and the good food, music, and party atmosphere drove away my doldrums.

  “Before my mother got sick with depression, she used to tell me the only real cure to sadness is a good-tastin‘ dinner. That’s why people serve so much food after a funeral,” Keefer told me. The music was so loud we had to shout to hear each other even at the same table.

  There must be some truth to that, I thought, because I ate way more than I usually did. Afterward, I sat back and watched some of the people dancing.

  “Funny,” Keefer said, “Nashville is a place full of music and good times, but I don’t often see it. I guess you got to be happy with yourself first before you can go out and have a good time.”

  I felt sorry for him and wished there was something I could do. At least I had Mother darling. He had no one but himself, and that had to be pretty scary most of the time.

  After we left and we were in the truck heading to Cory’s apartment, Keefer asked me if I was really serious when I told him I wouldn’t mind running off with him.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “What about now? I mean, considerin‘ what you saw and all, are you still feelin’ the same way about it?”

  I thought a moment. I knew he was asking me to forgive him completely for being with Charlotte Lily. Neither of us is a saint, I concluded. If we can’t forgive each other, no one will forgive us for anything we do.

  “Yes,” I told him, and he smiled.

  “Great. I have a plan. My father threw me out of our house before I could get to all my things. He never knew it, but I saved all the money I received as birthday gifts from relatives and friends. I was a little miser, in fact. I stuffed it all in this piggy bank my mother gave me when I was about three, I think. It was a giveaway from some hog farm she had been at one time or another. Anyway, I think I’ve got over four hundred dollars in it, and I want it. It’s mine. Only, I don’t think I can just walk up to the door and ring the bell.”

  “Why not? Your mother isn’t mad at you, is she?”

&nb
sp; “She’s not going to go against him,” he said. “Never did. Never took my side, ever, or my sister’s.” He was quiet a moment. “My sister was… I guess they call it abused nowadays. Softens it, I suppose, but it ain’t softened for her. I know she told Mama, but Mama thought she made it up to get back at him. She just wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Maybe she did, and that was what made her like she is, Keefer.”

  “Maybe. It’s more reason for me to hate him. I just don’t want to see him.”

  He looked at his watch.

  “There’s a good chance he ain’t home. I know how to get into my house without going through the front door. I just want to get my piggy bank and get out. Want to help?”

  “What can I do?”

  “You just stay in the truck and be the lookout,” he said. “If a car drives into the driveway, you sound the horn. Do it at least five, six times, and I’ll know to get out of there fast. No tellin‘ what would happen otherwise. He’d kill me or I’d somehow kill him. Okay?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I said, but my heart was thumping like an old-fashioned steam-engine train pounding the tracks.

  “Good,” he said. “It won’t take long. Don’t worry.”

  He turned the truck around and headed back toward the downtown area, but before getting there, turned again and wove his way through residential streets until we came to a house that looked hidden from the road behind sprawling old oak trees and untrimmed bushes. With the moonlight peeking through clouds, I could see the lawn was spotted with dry and bare patches. The house was completely dark.

  “Usually there’s a light on somewhere,” he said after we pulled to the curb. He sat there, looking worried.

  “Can’t you tell any other way if there’s someone home or not?”

  “He’s not home. He doesn’t park his truck in the garage. It’s full of tools, his work bench, and a table saw. Okay,” he said. “The window in my room has a broken lock. I’m going in that way. Get behind the wheel here and hit the horn if a truck pulls in.”