Emerge (9 page)

             
B
efore
I could decide,
the handle jangled violently and then opened so fast I didn’t have time to think. 

             
“It’s about time you got home
.”
She
spit as
s
he said it and I winced at the sheer volume. 

             
I walked into the house and
s
he slammed the door behind me. 

             
“So…”
s
he said in a fake nice voice “What have you been up to while we were gone? 

             
I stood there dumbfounded for a second and then
s
he screamed
,

             
“Answer me you stupid little shit!”  The small dining room reverberated at the enraged decibels.  I stuttered…

             
“Nothing, I just went to school and did homework and went to work and…”

             
When she talke
d to me like this I immediately became a different person.
My entire demeanor changed
I became 11
years old and scared to the point where I could hardly move, much less answer her questions.
The phrase ‘scared stiff” was made just for me.

             
Sh
e crept closer to me and
my eyes bulged in sync with her
steps.
Sh
e started with a whiny voice, mocking my own…

             
“And….and…brought a boy over here!” 

             
“No, I didn’t
,
” I stammered. 

             
“O
h, so the neighbors lied to us
?
They just make up random lies to get you in
             
trouble for no reason right? 
Poor little Jenna.
Don’t forget little girl that I
             
know every trick you could pull on me because I’ve pulled it.
”
 

             
My name on her
lips was like
s
he was spitting up bile.

             
“No, I mean, someone dropped me off…but he didn’t come in.” 
Sh
e clasped her
chest and switched to her
“nice” voice. 

             
“Oh…and who is this person dropping you off and how are you paying him back? 
Hmmmmm
?”
 

             
Tears bobbled on the edges of my bottom eye lids and congregated in the corner of my eyes.

             
“No
,
” I said as loudly as my little voice could
.
“He was just being nice.  I think…
I think he likes me.
”

             
The tears broke the invisible dam and flowed in chaotic patterns down my face. 
I don’t know why I confessed that he likes me.  It was just asking for it.

             
Sh
e got right in my face and said “Bullshit!  Who would ever like you?  Huh?
I guess that’s
whose number is on the caller ID
,
too, huh?
”

             
Sh
e began pacing in the living room and I b
riefly looked to find my
May sitting silently on her
hands in the living room.
She looked like she was on the edge of crying as well. They were making her our audience.
And my step-Dad was looking on proudly as my mother berated me as his entertainment. 
He cleared his throat and began to speak very slowly like
he was speaking to a lower life form
. 

             
“So you ‘think’ this boy likes you
.  What are you gonna do?
Hmmm?
You think you can just do what you want to
now
that you’re 18?  You still live in this house under my roof that I paid for!”

             
It was then that
m
y mouth betrayed
me. 

             
“You can’t pay for anything if you don’t even work.” 

             
Before I could react the back
of her hand connected with my cheek bone and hit exactly the spot where it hurt the most.  She’d had lots of practice.  She was still screaming at me as she dra
gged me by the arm to my room
and locked it behind me. 
What she said I’ll never know.
After a minute or so the tears stopped and I got as comfortable as I could for the night.  I tried to lie on the opposite side of the stinging to make the blood rush away from the now bruising area.

             
The whole incident made me think of the time we lived in a complex of run down apartments and I had lost the key
to the front door by accident.
I had to go to the landlord’s apartment and ask her to open the door for me. What I didn’t know was that they charged $10 every time they did that for a tenant.
The landlord left a note on the door the next day billing us for letting me in. I didn’t have money, but that didn’t mean I didn’t pay for it.
I was 8 and it was the first time I can remember
being backhanded.  My Mom
had hit and pushed before but that was the day she first hit me in the face.  For some reason hitting people in the face is a lot more personal and heinous than hitting somewhere else or pushing.
I later found the key in the bottom of my purse but it was too little too late.

             
  I don’t know how much longer it was but soon I was awoken by the phone ringing.  Mom answered it and
I heard her say
,
“No, I’m sorry;
she
doesn’t want to talk to you anymore
.”
I could feel the cracking and piercing of shards in my chest as my heart broke.
And then she hung up. 
Her steps then neared the bedroom door
, it unlocked with a “click”.  The light made me blink furiously as I heard her say

             
“
Aww
…
too bad you can’t talk to him. Now get your ass to the shower and then to bed.  And you can’t go to school looking like that.
”
 

             
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

             
“Too bad…he had a nice voice.” She laughed.  When she laughed like that she sounded like
Cruella
DeVille
. 

             
I got up and went directly to the bathroom.  I looked at myself in the mirror and my eye was puffy underneath and my cheek was purple and grayish looking.  I turned on the cold water and took off my clothes and jumped in.  The icy water took my breath away but then it felt fantastic on my cheek.  I washed my hair and then washed my body with the sliver of soap left for me.  I got out and heard them talking in their room.  The house was so full of cigarette smoke that I was suddenly glad we didn’t own smoke alarms. 
Hell, we couldn’t even afford a whole bar of soap.
I groaned as I slipped into bed and it was then that everything hit me.  And this reality slap was way worse than her backhand could ever be. 
She told him that I don’t want to talk to him.  He must think I’m such a wench.  He’s never gonna speak to me again. 
As I fell asleep my last thought was:
I will still love him…even if I can’t have him.

             
The next day was spent in silence and necessary whispers.  I cleaned the house as thoroughly and silently as possible while they slept.  I made them a pot of coffee to avoid the wrath when they woke up.  I know the drill.  Keep quiet, keep busy and keep complacent.  It was how I had survived since my parents divorced and my Mom remarried this tyrant and reformed her discipline methods. 
Yes, I was somewhat of a coward.  But at least I got one good truth into their ears last night.  My thoughts drifted to Carlos minute by minute. 
He probably noticed that I wasn’t in school that day, right?  Would he try to call again?  How was I going to let him go?
  Silent tears snaked rivers down my cheeks as I diligently worked room by room. 

             
They finally got up about noon and announced that they were going
somewhere.  I took care of May most of the day and called into work feigning sickness.  I made May a supper of macaroni and cheese and a can of green beans.  They still hadn’t returned at 7:30, so I cleaned up the kitchen mess and put the leftovers away and went to bed to read.  I wasn’t readin
g more than 10 minutes when the
phone rang. 
I looked over at May quickly to make sure she was asleep.

             
I bolted out of my
bed and looked at the caller ID
.  It was him.  My heart protested against the prison of my sternum and wanted to jailbreak.  I picked up the receiver so quickly that I had to play a little game of “hot potato” with it to steady my hands. 

             
Finally I got it to my ear and said
,
“Hello?”

             
Carlos gasped on the other side
of the phone. “Jenna…Thank God…A
re you ok?” 

             
All my anxiety left my body at the sound of his voice. 
             

             
“Yeah, I’m
..uh…
ok… now.” 

             
“What the hell happened?”
he yelled.

             
I thought he was angry, so I went into a rambling of apologies.

             
“I’m so sorry.  My Mom found out that you brought me home and she accused me of
some weird
stuff and then she…um…I couldn’t talk on the phone. I know you’re angry.  I DID want to talk to you.” 

             
I wa
s still on my rant when he said
,
“Hey, hey, stop…I’m not mad.  Shit…I’ve been worried sick.  If you didn’t answer the phone I was 2 minutes from c
oming over there and knocking until someone answered. I figured something was wrong when your Mom told me that last night but then you didn’t come to school…
I mean I had a bad feeling about your parents…
”

             
He went silent like he was remembering the day. 

             
“I’m sorry.  I couldn’t come to school today.  You’ll probably see why
tomorrow.”
             

             
He didn’t say anything for a while and I said
,
“You there?” 

             
He let out a breath that he was apparently holding and said
,
“Yeah, I’m here. 
Just so we’re
clear…what am I gonna see tomorrow?” 

             
I stalled
,
“It’s not a big deal…I just couldn’t come today.” 

             
I could hear a tapping sound and imagined
the noise was his foot on the floor as his knee bobbed
up and down. 

             
“Jenna…you have no idea…thinking about why you wouldn’t talk to me yesterday and then you didn’t show up today…I mean you don’t worry about someone that much unless…” 

             
Every muscle in my body had tensed at hearing his words. 

             
“Unless what?”  I whispered.  Now he was whispering. 

             
“Unless it’s someone you love.”
 

             
My defenses suddenly went up like metal walls in an FBI building. 

             
“Don’
t joke about that.
” 

             
He was silent for a few seconds too long and then he said “Jenna…I’m not joking. I know
it’s
fast
,
but I think I’ve… well
since the moment I saw you thr
ough that gate.  It seems like I was just biding my time until you.
” 

             
Car l
ights came through the windows like warning signs reflected in the dirty glass. 

             
“Hey, I think they’re home. I
gotta
go. 
And
,
Carlos?”
  I said it really
,
really fast.