Pick-me-up (5 page)

Read Pick-me-up Online

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

BOOK: Pick-me-up
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Gorman was a creep. Jodi, Katelyn’s oldest
sister, said he put his hand on her bare leg as he “counseled” her
in school options after she found out she was pregnant. With Jodi
and Jenny, he didn’t try to keep them in school. In fact, it meant
fewer calls and incident reports he had to make. But, with Katelyn,
it seemed he was trying a new approach: being nice. “How’s things
at home?” he’d ask, or “What’s new in your day, Miss Wells.” He
always referred to her as Miss Wells. Maybe he was purposefully
connecting her to her dad. Everybody in town knew Brian Wells. She
was just another one of the Wells Clan to Gorman.

Gorman’s office door handle turned and the
door cracked so that Teacher Woman’s voice came through as more
than a muffled rant. Katelyn caught the last bit, “. . . where
she’s headed, just like her sisters.”

Katelyn’s face flushed red and she jumped to
her feet. She was momentarily shocked at her own reaction, but
didn’t sit back down. In fact, she faced Gorman’s office door,
waiting for that woman to come out so she could defend her family
to Teacher Woman’s face. But, the door closed upon itself, and she
heard Gorman’s voice continue in murmured debate.

“Katelyn,” came the icing-laced voice of the
secretary, “have a seat.”

Katelyn didn’t dare turn around; her eyes
stung and her throat tightened. She didn’t know what to do. She was
so tired of the things people said about her sisters, her dad, and
her. What do they know about our lives?

“Katelyn,” the secretary repeated, “you need
to sit down.”

Katelyn forced herself to take a deep breath
and exhale. “No thanks,” she said, and turned and headed out the
open outer office door. She didn’t look back as she turned right in
the hallway and headed for the school’s small atrium decorated with
a million glass cases holding years of trophies and senior class
photos. Occasionally, she’d see people looking up their relatives.
She had found her mother’s photo once, but that’s as far as she had
to look. None of Katelyn’s sisters made it to graduation from good
ole’ Northrup High School.

The secretary had called after her and then
had called to Mr. Gorman in a troubled voice. Katelyn made it
around the atrium’s corner before she heard his labored voice.
“Miss Wells, just where do you think you’re going? Get back here,
young lady.”

The obedient side of Katelyn turned. She had
never been in trouble at the elementary school, and her only issue
at the middle school was attendance. This school just seemed to
have it out for her. And, it was only freshman year.

“You’re already in a spot of trouble. Don’t
make matters worse,” Gorman said as he closed the distance between
them.

Make matters worse? What, should she stick
around here and let them tell her how much of a problem she is? She
thought. Just then, the last period dismiss bell went off and a
stampede of voices and shoes made their way into the halls. Katelyn
felt free to leave. She turned away from Mr. Gorman, but he reached
out and grabbed her left arm above the elbow.

The shock of his touch sent her anger flaring
again. Katelyn looked from his hand and up to his face, which had
sprung into his monkey grin. His arm vibrated with tremors of fear
or anger. He doesn’t have control, she thought. She realized the
grin was an empty gesture, a disguise.

She whipped her arm from out of his grasp and
let her anger take over. “Fuck off,” she threw at his face, which
turned to a look of momentary shock. She took the chance and
quickly walked out the front doors with the stream of students
eager to get out of school.

 

Chapter 7: Fatherly
Advice

Katelyn
didn’t dare stick around looking for a ride home. Instead, she beat
a path off school grounds as fast as she could. School was two
miles away, and since Katelyn had been kicked off the bus too many
times, she had to find rides. Walking home was humiliating. Only
the younger kids walked. But today, walking was just the thing to
help Katelyn sort out her thoughts.

The rhythm of her steps and breathing calmed
her anger. Now, anxiety competed for attention. He deserved it,
Katelyn thought. Gorman shouldn’t have touched me.

A moment of panic hit her as she felt her
pocket and only found her phone’s battery. She felt naked without
her phone. Worst of all, she lost her phone before she pushed send
on her text. Tim never even had his reply. She hoped he didn’t
think she was ignoring him.

When she reached her street, a cul-de-sac
just past one of the town’s four mobile home parks, she was calm
until she looked at her house. Katelyn could tell who was home
based on the cars parked in her driveway and in the street. Today,
the line up would prove an interesting drama inside the house.
Besides her mom’s car, Jacob’s dad’s car was there and he never
came alone. He had to bring a friend along when he visited his son.
He was too scared to visit by himself.

But the biggest flag was the heavy duty Dodge
Ram truck out front, which meant her Dad was home.

As Katelyn neared the house, she saw Kayla
climbing the broken down four-wheeler parked by the side of the
shed. Her dad had tried to fix it one afternoon this spring, but
the job didn’t get finished. Its brake cable and gear shifting
parts still lay dismantled, some deeply imbedded in the drying mud
below.

Chevy, her dad’s Pitbull, barked and jumped
against the backyard chain link fence as Katelyn approached. Kayla
turned at the sudden noise.

“Kayla, what are you doing out here?” Katelyn
asked, finishing her sweep of the yard to confirm she was
unsupervised.

“Kate’n!” she yelled and lost her footing on
the four-wheeler’s step. Kayla slipped and ended up sliding down
its side. Her little body plopped on the footrest of the sport
vehicle. Her face momentarily registered shock and then crumpled
into the beginnings of a cry.

Katelyn reached down and picked the girl up.
She placed her on the seat, but Kayla tried to hold on to Katelyn.
“No, you’re okay. You just scared yourself. That’s all,” she said
comfortingly. “Look, now you can be a big girl.” She guided Kayla's
hands to the handles. Her attempt at diverting Kayla’s attention
momentarily found success.

Katelyn made mock motor noises, but, as with
most activities, Kayla quickly lost interest.

“I missed you,” Kayla yelled and grabbed
Katelyn around the neck in a tight embrace.

“Sorry, K.K., I had to go to school.”

Kayla pulled back. “I want to go to school!”
Katelyn looked at the excitement in her niece’s face. She
remembered wanting to be grown up, to read, to add, to get the
answers right when the teacher called on her. Isn’t that what it
was about? School was where we supposedly achieve something
greater, right? When Katelyn was young, she too believed that
unlimited possibilities would come with school.

Katelyn grunted in a laugh to herself. All
school was bringing her was insults.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Katelyn said
in a harsher tone than she intended. She squeezed Kayla to her
again and added, “Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance soon
enough.”

The screen door’s metallic click behind her
was followed by her dad’s gruff voice. “There you are.” Was he
referring to Kayla or Katelyn? she wondered. Katelyn turned around
to survey her dad, to see what state he was in and what was in
store for her.

“Hey,” Katelyn offered her dad as a greeting,
her voice and face free of emotion. From his uncustomary silence,
Katelyn clearly understood that there were words he wanted to say.
He looked down at her from the top of the three steps leading into
the house’s side door. He made no move to come down to her level.
The height was false authority, though.

Katelyn received the height genes, or failed
to receive height genes, rather, from her father. He stood five
feet, four inches tall. She had only an inch to go before she’d see
him eye level. She hoped she’d at least get to his height. But,
despite the other physical developments of her freshman year, she
hadn’t gained much in altitude. Katelyn had gained weight—and not
just in the addition of C cup breasts. Her hips had pushed out and
cushioned themselves with a couple layers of solid mass. Her dad
didn’t have much of a backside, so her ample buns were gifts from
her mom’s side.

Sometimes Katelyn stood in front of the
mirror and would will her body to stretch itself out. In fact,
after a trip to the House of Mirrors at Adventureland, a theme park
near Des Moines, Katelyn often recreated the slimming effect by
warping her own mirror. She’d fit the cap of her toothpaste between
the door and her door mirror to make the glass bulge out near her
waist’s reflection. She’d stare at the anatomically pleasing body
in the mirror and wish for a genie. I’ll take four inches in
height, a million dollars, oh, and a normal family, please. She had
it all planned out.

Her dad positioned his bare feet at the edge
of the step, his hands firmly lodged into his jeans pockets. His
face was rough with beard growth, maybe three or four days’ worth.
His face looked tired, too, his eyes red-rimmed.

“Kayla, go in to see Grandma,” he
commanded.

Katelyn put Kayla down on the ground, but she
was already reverting to a whine. “I wanna stay with Kate’n.”

“Go in and get a snack, Kayla,” Katelyn
encouraged her. “There’s Oreos by the toaster.”

Kayla perked up a bit and scrambled up the
steps. She left a new smudge of grease on the inside of the screen
door’s glass window, her little hand pushing off and disappearing
into the kitchen beyond. Katelyn noticed the other dirt and grime,
mentally filing the mess for a later chore proposal. She needed to
earn more money for this weekend. Jenny’s booze fee ate up more
than her allowance, and she wanted to have gas money to offer
Emily. Maybe then Emily would take her instead of Maci to Rollins
Dam or whatever party she was going to crash.

First things first, she thought, and turned
her attention to her dad.

“Gorman called,” her dad started with a
stern, but steady voice. Katelyn could tell from two words that he
hadn’t decided his own tactic yet. He was playing the role of upset
father, the disciplinarian, but the part of him that always wanted
her to like him was competing with the role. Katelyn knew her dad
couldn’t stay mad at her, at least not for long.

She decided to let him bring it up and she’d
play the victim. Katelyn leaned back on the four-wheeler’s seat and
let her shoulders slump in a sigh.

He broke. “Want to give me your version?”

She didn’t look up at him as she went into
her own defense. “Everyone is so unfair!” She started out with the
special targeting from the English teacher and ended with a
slightly exaggerated version of Gorman grabbing her arm.

By this time Katelyn had turned her face to
her dad and let the hurt really show. The anger was working her way
back and she felt her face start to flush. She remembered too
clearly how the teacher so easily classified her into a history of
failure. She finished explaining and grew quiet, but her mind went
on with private thoughts. When do I get a chance to be more than
what my family is in this town? If not here, where can I have my
chance? Certainly not at that school, not where my sisters have
already dropped out.

She looked at her dad. He was partially to
blame. School had its own separate history in her family. But, even
the family name was impossible to escape. Often when people heard
her last name, they instantly followed with “Brian’s kid?” Katelyn
and Brianna were Brian Well’s children. Katelyn’s older sisters,
Jodi and Jenny, were from her mother’s previous marriage and had a
different last name, Hoffman. At least they escaped the association
by name judgments. When people heard Katelyn’s last name, they most
likely were recalling her dad’s latest listing in the crime
reports, the local paper’s most popular feature.

Suddenly Katelyn wished she wasn’t home.
Every day at school she would watch the clock, waiting for her
freedom so she could go home, but lately there wasn’t much “home”
at her house.

Her dad squatted and then sat in a perch on
the front steps; he was at her level now, her buddy. “That man had
no right to touch you, Kate,” he said as if he were presiding over
a trial. “I’ll be giving him a call in the morning.”

Katelyn didn’t reply. The pity act was no
longer needed. She felt truly pathetic.

“Your mom’s awful upset, though.”

Katelyn flinched a little.

“She says you’ve been acting up, too.” He
didn’t stop. Instead, he started listing secondhand accounts of her
grades, her mother’s suspicions, and ended up with an awkward
speech about how much trouble boys are. “Let me tell you, Kate,
they’ve only got one thing on their mind and it ain’t your
feelings.”

Katelyn had had enough. She now knew her
little sister was a source in this inquisition.

“Are you done?” she bit at him, looking up to
deliver a glare. How dare he pretend to know so much or care so
much about her or her behavior? “Should we talk about you, Dad?
Should we list what you’ve been up to, or who you’ve been up
to?”

Her dad stood up suddenly and took a huffed
breath before he pointed at her. “You,” he started, “you shouldn’t
listen to all the lies coming out of you mom’s mouth.” He paced on
the concrete step while he seemed to compose himself. “Jesus,” he
swore.

A small twinge of fear stirred in Katelyn,
but just as freely as she told Gorman off, she dismissed the
childish reaction. Her dad couldn’t hurt her. She steeled herself
against him.

“Listen,” he stopped pacing and leaned
forward extending one hand toward her while the other went to his
hip. “You have to start doing better at school, Kate. You have to.”
He shook his hand in the air in front of him as he searched for the
correct words. “You have to act better. You may not think so, but
you’re going to need school in the future. Look at your sisters.”
He stopped, knowing not to go that route. “You have to grow that
brain of yours.” He picked up confidence in this new strategy. His
voice took on a coaching quality.

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