there were big dead spots. The front porch on the
house leaned to one side like it had collapsed after an
earthquake or the beams holding it up had just rotted:
A front window had a crack in it and most of the
siding was peeled and faded badly. The truth is when I
first came upon it, I thought I might have the wrong
address. I didn't think anyone lived in this one either. "However, Steve must have been watching for
me because the moment I turned into his short,
chipped and broken cement sidewalk, he stepped out
the front door.
"'Welcome to my palace,' he said with a
crooked smile, holding his arms out wide.
"'How long have you lived here?' I asked trying
not to sound too critical.
"'Long as I can remember. It was my grandpa's
house, my father's daddy. When he died, it was practically all he had to leave to him, I guess. Once it was
nice. I know because I've seen some pictures. "'Well, come on inside. No sense in putting it
off,' he added.
"You could tell two men lived there by
themselves the moment you stepped through the door.
The living room furniture needed a good dusting, the
rugs were worn so thin in spots, you could see the
wood floor beneath them. There were glasses and
bottles on tables and the ashtrays were full of butts.
On closer look I could see places where Steve's father
had let a cigarette ash burn into the sofa or the easy
chair. I knew his father must have done it because
Steve didn't smoke and I also knew how careless
Momma used to be when she drank and smoked. "None of the windows had curtains, just shades,
and the house itself had a musty, damp smell. Jade grimaced as if she had stomach gas. "The kitchen looked somewhat better, probably because Steve had done some last minute cleaning in anticipation of my arrival. They had a round, badly chipped wooden table and chairs in it, a microwave as well as a stove and a refrigerator that looked like it was threatening to drop dead. The motor made a small clang. The walls throughout the house needed a good whitewash, and in the kitchen, the linoleum floor was buckling in the corners and badly stained in many
spots.
"There was little decoration on the walls, no
flowers, no pictures, no knickknacks, no feminine
touch anywhere. I had a glimpse of his father's room
when he showed me the rest of the small house. There
were clothes lying on the floor, over chairs and on the
unmade bed. Steve's room was neat, but the furniture
looked ready for the antique farm, if you know what I
mean, dull finish, chipped and scratched, just like
most of the pieces in the house. There was just an old,
faded oval gray area rug beside his bed.
"Steve could see my reaction to his home. It's
always hard for me to hide what I'm thinking I've got
a pair of eyes that might as well be magnifying
glasses over my thoughts."
"You can say that again," Jade muttered. I glared at her for a moment and then returned
to telling them about Steve.
"'When my mother was alive, this place looked
decent at least,' he told me.
"'I bet,' I said and he laughed at how I had said
it. 'I mean you and your father aren't much at
housekeeping.'
"'He ain't much at anything,' Steve muttered.
'Hungry?' he asked.
"'Sure,' I said and we went about preparing our
dinner. He was excited about the pie. I told him my
granny had made the crust. It was her specialty and no
matter how much I tried, I couldn't get it as good. He
liked hearing me talk about Granny, how she fidgeted
over her home cooking, her stories about her own
mother and father, and of course, her famous sayings. "When I asked him about his grandparents, he
could only remember his father's daddy. He had never
seen his mother's parents; they had both died before
he was five or six.
"I wondered why he didn't have any brothers or
sisters and he said, 'Just luck.'
"I was going to laugh when I saw how serious
he was about it.
"'Can you imagine if there was another kid in
this house, especially younger, like Rodney? You know what things have been like for him,' he said and we sat and talked a little more about life with an alcoholic for a parent. That's when I realized even more that we really were birds of a feather," I said and
paused.
"Why?" Jade asked. She didn't want to give me
a moment's rest, it seemed. Why was she so damn
anxious to hear all my story? I had come this morning
thinking they all wouldn't be interested in my poor
girl's life, and they seemed more interested in me than
in Misty and maybe themselves.
"Because of the feelings he had about it, the
kind of things he thought.
"'I used to feel like smashing things,' he told
me. 'My father was drunk so much, I was sure he
didn't care about me. Counselors and such always told
me I couldn't do anything about his problem. He was
sick. They wanted me to think of him as suffering
some diseases, you know.
"'I'm not religious,' he said, 'but I couldn't help
wondering why God let this happen to me and
especially to my momma. You ever think that?' "'Lots of times,' I told him. 'Granny used to tell
me it's all just a test and we should feel sorry for those
who are hurting us.'
"'You believe that?' he asked quickly. I didn't
want to say I did. I knew he didn't.
"'Sometimes,' I admitted, 'but not often.' "He laughed and talked about all the times he
thought about running away.
"'I almost did last year,' he said, 'but I talked to
this counselor at school, Mr. VanVleet, and he said,
"Just accept it, Steve. Accept it and move on with
your own life. When your father's ready to help
himself, he will, or if he won't, you can't make him." "'I thought that made sense so I tried doing
what he suggested and I ignored my father as much as
I could. If he wasn't home to eat, too bad. If he fell
over and slept on the floor most of the night, tough,
even if he threw up over himself. For a little while, it
was like a truce or something in here. We didn't talk
much and we didn't see each other much when he was
sober.'
"'Did it help any?' I asked.
"'Some, I think He drank less for a while and
started to act like he cared about me, you know. He'd
ask how's your schoolwork? What do you want to do
with yourself after you finish school? Questions I
guess other parents ask their kids all the time. "'And then . . .' He paused and looked like he
wasn't going to go on.
"'What?' I pushed.
"'He got mixed up with a woman who drinks
more than he does. I can't stand her. A lot of garbage
comes out of her mouth and when he turns his back or
leaves her alone with me, she . .
"'She what?' I asked
"'Never mind,' he said. 'Luckily, most of the
time he's at her place. That's probably where he's at
tonight,' he told me.
"He was so full of rage, he made my anger look
like a little drizzle. We were both quiet for a long
moment, both trying to keep our blood calm. "'What does your father do for work now?' I
asked him. He had told me his father once had a good
job with the water department but got fired because he
came in late too often and drunk once.
"'He works at a garage. I think it's a chop shop,
myself,' he added.
"I asked him what that was and he said a place
where they bring stolen cars to tear off parts and sell
them. Of course, that frightened me a little, but he
shrugged and said, 'Like the man told me, ignore him.' "In the fading, purplish light of the falling day,
his glimmering eyes met with mine and we stared at each other for a long moment. Though I knew his heart had been shredded even worse than mine, I could sense his longing to put it together and fill it with some sort of love and he knew what I was thinking, Like I said," I added with a small smile,
"two magnifying glasses on my thoughts.
"'You're a really nice girl,' he said.
"'Thank you,' I told him.
"'I don't mean just nice,' he continued. 'I mean
you're pretty in and out.'
"I smiled, not really knowing what he meant.
He looked frustrated with his attempt to express
himself.
"'Granny's always telling me I'm pretty,' I said. "'She's right of course, but I mean more. There
are lots of good-looking girls at our school, I guess,
but they're just beautiful on the outside. Your beauty
goes deep. Yours is where it really counts,' he said. "I thanked him again. He felt awkward so we
talked about dinner and set the table. Together with
the salad and some fresh bread he had bought, our pot
pies tasted pretty good. Afterward, we had the apple
pie and he had some ice cream to put on it. We both
had seconds.
"'I bet you think I'm a pig,' I said. 'I don't
usually eat like this.'
"'I think when you feel happy, you have a
bigger appetite,' he said. I agreed and I told him how I
thought sadness was like a sickness. I couldn't believe
how easy it was to talk with him now and how much I
wanted to tell him. The more we talked, the closer I
felt to him.
"'When we got up to put the dishes in the sink,
we stood really close to each other and we kissed. It
was just a short kiss. I call it a test kiss. You throw
your lips out there and see what happens."
"What happened?" Misty asked.
"We kissed again, longer, and then . . "You forgot about the dishes," Jade said with a
slow, know-it-all nod. Her eyes were bright and sharp
and full of her own experiences.
"Exactly," I said.
Misty's smile widened into a small laugh. Cat
looked like she was turning white from holding her
breath so long.
A wry smile twisted Jade's lips.
"Thought so," she said with great selfsatisfaction.
"Yeah, but what you think happened, didn't
happen."
"Ever?" she challenged.
"That night," I said and she sat back, still quite
pleased with herself.
After a beat of silence, Misty asked, "Why
didn't it?" "His daddy came home," I said, "and things
got very unpleasant very quickly."
Jade's eyebrows rose. Cathy bit down on her
lower lip. Doctor Marlowe sipped some water and
stared at me. I could almost hear her asking herself,
"Would I go on?"
"Steve and I cleaned up the kitchen, neither of
us saying very much. Every once in a while, we
would look into each other's eyes and pause. My heart
started a heavy, faster beat that grew louder and
harder every time he and I grazed each other. It was
like electricity was in the air.
"I know a lot. of people, especially other girls
my age, look at me and think I've been with a lot of
boys, but I'd never had anything like a boyfriend
before I met Steve. I had crushes on boys and some
had crushes on me, but nothing had ever come of it. "I read enough romance stories and stuff and
had been around Mamma enough to know about sex
and such, but when it's you, really you, it's different." "That's for sure," Misty said. Cat looked at her for a moment and then turned back quickly to me,
anticipating.
"We just held hands first. It was like both our
palms had magnets in them or something. My hand
practically floated into his and next thing I knew, we
were walking toward his room, neither of us saying a
word.
"When we got there, he let go and flopped on
his bed, on his back, looking up at the ceiling with his
hands behind his head.
"'I guess you know what it's like for me laying
around in my room and hearing my father bang into
things when he comes home from a night out there,'
he said. 'I hear him cursing and ranting. Sometimes, I
can hear him crying through the wall. That's how he
comes down from a drunk.'
"'He feels bad about what happened with your
mother,' I said.
"Steve opened his eyes wider and looked at me. "'Yeah, I suppose,' he said. 'Maybe that's why
he drinks more and more now, to forget. Only, I don't
think it helps you forget. I think it makes it come
back, only like some. . . some nightmare.'
"'I suppose you're right,' I said.
"I sat beside him and he brought his hands around and took my right hand into his and just held it, studying my fingers as if they was something special. Then he looked up at me again, his eyes practically speaking to me, drawing me toward him. I didn't even realize I had leaned so far over we were
close enough to kiss again until we did.
"Suddenly I was beside him on the bed and he
was hovering over me, his face so serious it made my
heart skip beats until he brought his lips to mine again
and then, when he touched me and unbuttoned my
blouse, my heart felt more like a wild, frantic animal
in my chest, thundering hard against my ribs. I was
scared but excited.
"It didn't take long to get half undressed. The
whole time I kept thinking Granny might be mad. I
told her I was a good girl and she shouldn't worry and
now look what I'm doing. But some other voice inside
me said I was still a good girl. This wasn't wrong. I
wanted to be loved. I needed to be loved.
"And so did Steve. We were giving something
precious to each other, something we had been denied
too long, and I don't just mean sex," I added quickly,
my eyes throwing warning darts at Jade, but she didn't
look like she was about to ridicule me anyway. She
looked sad and excited and full of sympathy, all at
once. "I loved his lips all over me. I would have given
myself to him right then and there. I know it was
foolish to be like that and not to think of protection. I
was aware of all that, but now I understood firsthand
why some girls forget or lose control. I remember I
was the impatient one, pushing myself at him, helping
him with my skirt zipper, struggling to get
comfortable.
"He pulled back the blanket and I got under as
he finished taking off his clothes. He was kissing me
and caressing me and I was thinking I'm a woman
now. I don't care what happens; I don't care.
"I felt him about to be in me when suddenly, we
heard the door open, loud laughter and a chair or
something get knocked over. Steve froze and then his
face filled with fear. He pulled back.
"'You better get dressed,' he said. 'That's him
for sure.'
"I hurriedly did so. We heard a female voice,
too. "'She's with him,' Steve said. 'It'll be worse,' he
predicted.
"Now my heart was really pounding, but in a
different way. It was more like a thump, a deep drum
vibrating my bones. I had a cold chill up and down my spine. I wasn't quite finished dressing when the door crashed open and Steve's father stood there,
wobbling and looking in at us.
"He was a big man, four or five inches taller
than Steve and probably forty pounds heavier, with
large facial features and a balding head His eyes were
a familiar bloodshot red and I thought to myself, all
drunks look alike. He had that same slobbering lip,
that same dazed, unsteady stance, that same stream of
madness running through his brain like a polluted
stream.
"'Well now, lookie here,' he declared. 'The boy
got himself some action.'
"'Shut up,' Steve told him
"His father laughed and then a small, buxom
woman came up beside him looking drunker than he
did, her hair down, her pearl white blouse open so that
her bosom was visible almost to the nipples. She had
dark freckles over her caramel cheeks. She was
attractive enough that I was surprised she was with
Steve's father. Steve had apparently gotten his good
looks mainly from his mother.
"His girlfriend laughed.
"'Well, let him be,' she said. 'He needs all the
experience he can get.'
"'That's for sure. It's about time he had a
girlfriend. I was beginning to think he wasn't all right,'
his father declared and swayed.
"'Shut your foul mouth!' Steve shouted at him "His father seemed to swell, his shoulders
rising and his neck thickening.
"'Who are you talking to, boy?'
" 'C'mon, let 'em be,' his girlfriend said and
tried to pull him away, but Steve's father hovered
there, so wide he almost filled the doorway. She
tugged to no avail and walked away.