Authors: Cecilia La France
Tags: #drugs, #high school, #meth, #iowa, #meth addiction, #iowa small towns, #abuse first love, #abuse child teen and adult, #drugs recovery family, #abused teen, #dropout, #drugs abuse, #drugs and violence, #methampethamine, #methamphetamine addiction
The next stage began. “I try . . .” and
“only want . . .” and “expect from you . . .” and “Is that too much
to ask?” came out ladled with guilt. Katelyn knew to look up
a few times with humble expressions to make her mom know she was
listening.
And then, it was silent. Or, at least,
her mom had stopped. A cartoon blared from the TV.
Kayla must have turned it up to try cover up the yelling.
“What are you going to do about school?” Her
mom’s voice was still serious and heavy, but back to normal volume.
Katelyn shrugged. “I dunno.” She didn’t
know.
“Gorman called. You missed two days of
midterm exams. He says you won’t have enough credits to be a
junior.”
Katelyn shrugged, but her heart beat faster
inside.
“Unexcused means the teachers don’t have to
let you make them up.” Again, Katelyn stayed silent.
She saw her mom look at the clock. There was no way
Katelyn would make her last test today. “You better get your
ass in there on Monday and talk to them.”
“It’s spring break,” Katelyn muttered.
“There’s no school.”
“You still better get over there and clear it
with the office. You are grounded until you take those
tests.”
“Mom,” Katelyn lightly protested, “they’re
all gone. School’ll be closed.”
A strong knocking came at the door and
startled them both. Katelyn took the interruption as a chance
to get out of her mom’s lecture, at least momentarily. She
went out into the living room and pulled back the sheer curtain to
see a police cruiser in her driveway. She jumped back and
faced her mom who had followed her from the kitchen. “Cops,”
she said.
“Damn it.” Her mom said as she headed for the
side door. “I called them this morning when you didn’t show
up.” She threw Katelyn a loaded look of guilt and opened the
door.
Two officers stood outside the door, one
slightly back and on a lower step than the other. Both had
one hand free and close to their unsnapped weapon holsters.
Their black uniforms stood out sharply against the fresh
layer of snow melting behind them.
“I’m sorry. I forgot to call.”
Her mom began as she opened the screen door. “She’s
home.”
The first officer looked momentarily confused
but quickly recovered. “Mam, we have a warrant for the arrest
of Brian Wells and a warrant to search the premises.”
Her dad went with the police after a verbal
protest. They put handcuffs on him in the house and read him
his rights. “You are charged with the intent to distribute
methamphetamine.” When they asked him if he had any drugs on
his person, he acted offended and denied any drug use. They
searched him and found nothing. More cops came and searched
the house. They eventually found the fresh ounce of pure meth
her dad bought from an undercover narcotics officer that morning.
Within minutes, the street was filled with black and whites.
Neighbors stood in their driveways. Katelyn saw a few
take pictures with their cell phones as the cops led her dad to a
marked car and ducked him in the backseat handcuffed.
The next day at the arraignment, the judge
denied her dad bail. Her dad was a “high flight risk” based
on his history.
Jenny had appeared before they left for the
arraignment. She took Kayla and Jacob with her. Her
subsidized apartment came through and she needed the kids to
complete her role of single mother. Katelyn’s mom didn’t put
up an argument.
Katelyn missed her shift on Saturday in order
to go court with her mom. “Don’t bother coming back to work,”
the assistant manager snidely informed her before she hung up.
So, the house was quiet for what turned out
to be days. Her mom mostly sat at the table and smoked.
Katelyn avoided her by staying in her room. Sometimes
she could hear her mom mumbling into the phone, probably to her
grandma or her aunt in Minneapolis. There were going to be
some money issues to work out. It looked like her dad would
be locked up for a long time, and a lawyer was going to be
expensive.
Uncle Russ stopped over and there were hushed
words after Katelyn was asked to leave the room. When Katelyn
came back out, her mom and Russ were both silent, heads down in
thought at the table.
“Uncle Russ, would you look at my car?
I need to get it fixed.”
“Sure, kid.” He looked over at her mom
and they shared a look that said its own sad apology without a word
spoken. Russ wasn’t in any shape to help out her family.
The pale hurt of honesty was one Katelyn recognized now.
Brianna seemed to disappear. She came
home after the police had left and quickly found a friend’s house
to stay the night. Monday morning she came back to get some
more clothes. Her mom didn’t try to keep her home. It
was spring break.
Katelyn tried to fill the silence with her
music. All her new CDs were from Tim. Listening to
them, she realized they only triggered more thoughts and memories
of her Tim, the one she loved, not the jerk she saw last week.
She didn’t want to think of him, not if she couldn’t have him
anymore. Angel was right. Each day without Tim made him
more of a memory. But, each day seemed just as sad as the
last.
Tuesday night, Tim’s text lit up her
phone.
“I want to see u. Things got all messed
up. Let me explain. T.”
She waited until her mom left for work
Wednesday morning. She spent half an hour on the right words
for her reply, and finally sent what felt right: “I’m coming to get
my stuff. Explain if you can. I’ll be there in an
hour.”
Katelyn threw on a jacket, locked the door to
the empty house, walked past tools still in the yard, and headed to
Tim’s house with steps both heavy and light with mixed
possibility.
Chapter 22: Full
Circle
A
beeping alarm woke Katelyn from a deep sleep. If she were in
her own bed, she would have drifted back to sleep, but the hospital
room instantly took shape as she opened her eyes. The beeping
came from outside of her room, down a hall. Footsteps made
their way past her door and the beeping stopped. A low hum
from the dim light behind her hospital bed filled the silence.
Katelyn turned her head to look at the other
side of the room and was met with pain. Her neck was stiff
and her head throbbed. Tim, she remembered. Tim did
this to me.
A hospital version of a lazy boy chair sat
next to the bed. Her mom reclined in its blue fake leather
upholstery. A white hospital blanket wrinkled over her frame.
She was asleep.
She stayed with me
, Katelyn thought
and turned her head back into her pillow and drifted into sleep
again.
“Looks like you’re getting out of here,” her
morning nurse came into the room with her chart and began turning
off machines and taking off tubes. “I just need some last
readings and the doctor will clear you.” The nurse had
Katelyn’s arm in a blood pressure wrap before Katelyn could fully
register what she was doing. The pain medicine had finally
kicked in. The doctor didn’t want her on any the previous
night since she was being watched for a concussion. All she
wanted to do after her mom took her to the emergency room in Ames
was to sleep. The nurses didn’t let her until after they took
all their x-rays.
After she made it away from Tim’s house, she
found her phone in her jacket pocket, but it was in two pieces.
It must have taken one of Tim’s kicks. Katelyn had kept
walking, aware that she was stumbling and was bleeding from her arm
and somewhere on her head. At the end of the next street, an
older man was pulling into his driveway ahead of her. He had
wanted to call an ambulance and the police, but Katelyn convinced
him she just needed to call her mom.
After x-rays and stitches, two police
officers walked into the partitioned emergency room area where she
waited for the next medical decision. Her mom had called the
cops. Two of them came over from Northrup to take the report.
She recognized one cop from her dad’s arrest. Katelyn
gave them the details, surprising herself with how mechanically she
answered their questions and described the beating.
“Do you have reason to believe Tim is taking
drugs?” one asked.
Katelyn stared beyond them. “Ya,” she
muttered, “Yes.”
“What is he on, Katelyn? We need to
know what we’re sending police into when we pick him up.”
Katelyn glanced at her mom, who had been in
and out of her room all evening. “Maybe X. He does a
lot of pot, too.” She lifted a hand to find a fingernail to chew
on, but the movement set off a pain in her rib cage. “Maybe,
um,” she hesitated.
“Katelyn, he put you in the hospital.
He needs to be stopped. He needs help.” The
officer’s voice was more authoritative than kind, but it unlocked
the rest of her secret.
“Last week I think I saw track marks on his
arm, but he usually smokes ice. Shooting is for hard cores.
He had only done that once. And,” she remembered Mona,
“he might be snorting crank now.” Katelyn finished softly and
could feel her mom’s anger without looking at her. Katelyn
kept her eyes low.
The officers asked her a series of other
questions about contacts and sources. Katelyn told them what
she could about Mona, the apartment, Travis, and Christian’s
connections. She didn’t talk about her dad. She could
tell the cops assumed a connection, but they didn’t ask.
Finally, after the cops left, an orderly
transferred her to a hospital room for overnight observation.
Katelyn managed to get some sleep in between vital checks.
“So, here are the instructions on changing
bandages for your stitches on your arm. The stitches on the
back of your head are fewer in number. No shampooing for a
few days so the tape doesn’t wash away.” The nurse continued to
hand her mom papers while she directed her comments at Katelyn.
“The bruised pelvic and cracked rib are going to be quite
sore. Limit movement and take the prescription pain medicine
as needed. You need a waiver for school or PE?” Katelyn
worked the words through her mind slowly, but her mom nodded.
“She’s on spring break but will be back in
school next week.”
“Well, just ask the doctor.”
The nurse paused for a moment and changed
tone slightly. “Katelyn, there’s a special nurse who’s going
to come talk to you shortly. Ms. Wells, it might be best if
she could speak to her alone.” It was almost a question, but
still another instruction. Her mom nodded. The nurse
continued, “Alrighty, doctor should be around soon and we’ll wheel
you out. It was a short stay, Katelyn, and that’s a good
thing. Good luck to you.”
After 15 minutes of not saying anything to
each other, her mom got up and grabbed her purse. “Be right
back.” Katelyn knew she was going outside to smoke.
Katelyn wanted her bedroom, but at the same
time, didn’t want to go home. Somehow, this place was a safe
base, like in the hide-and-seek game, where no one could tag
someone out. Here, Katelyn didn’t have to think of what
happened with Tim or with her dad. She didn’t have to worry
about anyone. Her next movements were decided for her by
people with charts and a plan to follow.
The door opened while it was being knocked.
A short petite woman walked in with what was either the same
chart all the people walked in with or a new one. The woman
also carried a thick folder. She was dressed in a darker blue
uniform than the other nurses who Katelyn had seen in the past 24
hours. “Katelyn Wells? Hi, Katelyn. My name is
Peggy. I’m a resident counselor here at Greeley.”
“Hi,” Katelyn simply said, even though it
looked like the woman was going to go on whether she responded or
not.
“In cases like yours—it seems you’ve had some
violence against you?”
Katelyn stared at the woman. What did
she say her name was? Katelyn gave up, assuming she would not
really need to know in the long run.
“Well, in cases like yours, we want you to
leave here knowing your options. You didn’t report any sexual
abuse. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” The
woman paused and looked at Katelyn expectantly, her chin stuck
forward. “What you tell me is completely confidential.”
Katelyn blushed at the question. Now
that she thought about it, the last time she and Tim had sex was
over two weeks ago. “No, nothing like that,” she said softly.
“Well, you’ve been through a lot and have
options if you want help sorting out your feelings.”
The woman went on to bring out several
brochures and point out hotline numbers as the main highlight of
each. Katelyn couldn’t bring herself to focus on any of them.
Whatever pain medicine they had given her was way more
powerful than the Vicodin Angel usually gave her. Finally,
the woman in blue finished, but reached out to hold on to Katelyn’s
arm.
“Katelyn, it’s important that you know this
wasn’t your fault.” Katelyn wondered how many times the woman
had to give her practiced speech each day.
Katelyn pulled her arm out from under the
nurse's hand. How many girls end up on the floor getting beat
by the one they love? If it’s not my fault, whose fault is it?
How can it be just Tim’s fault? I should have seen this
coming. I am the only one he listens to.
"You don't understand. No offense, but
look at you." Katelyn did her own survey of this woman--straight
laced, comfy shoes, no makeup, probably a church-goer with a newer
car that starts every time. "You don't know my life, people
like me. You probably love someone normal, someone without a
real problem."
Blue Woman didn't flinch, her gaze never left
Katelyn's face. Katelyn couldn't keep eye contact. "You think
we're different. We are. But one thing we both have in
common is the right to keep ourselves safe." Blue Woman took a
moment for dramatic pause. "Love is a very powerful thing to learn.
What does it look like, feel like, and act like? Loving
someone is a gift, Katelyn. No one's asking you to stop.
But what you got back wasn't love."