Wheels of Steel, Book 2 (38 page)

People from church came and helped but they didn’t understand that either she or Momma had to be there for Daddy’s last moments. They kept saying, ‘You are exhausted, baby. Go home and sleep. We will call you if something happens.’ She would just thank them for their concern and curl up in the chair next to Daddy’s bed, listening to the sound of his oxygen and the beeping of the machines.

And then it was the day before Halloween and Daddy had pulled down his oxygen mask and looked at her with clear eyes.

“
Who’s been messing with you Robin?”

She had sat up straight and leaned in close. “Nobody, Daddy. I’m okay.” He nodded then, contented, and then went back to sleep. A sad smile tugged at her lips. Daddy was always trying to take care of somebody, even when he was on heavy dosages of morphine…even when he was at the last days of his life. Sometimes he would wake up and tell her to make sure a certain bill would get paid so that Mama wouldn’t have to worry about it. But she didn’t understand what he meant. Mama took care of all of the bills. Robin just nodded and assured him that she would. That was so much of his last days; he would wake up long enough to look around for them and once he saw them the frantic search ended and he delivered some last instruction.

Robin would almost feel desperate at the idea that one day he just wouldn’t be here. She knew that she should not wish for him to continue to live when his life was filled with so much pain, but she just wasn’t ready to lose her Daddy. She had reached out and clutched his hand while he slept. Who would fight for her when he wasn’t there? Who would she run to when he wasn’t there? And then that old familiar fear would creep up on her; the fear that no one would ever love her like her Mom and her Dad.

That evening the nurses had brought in his tray of food. It was turkey and dressing with cranberry relish and green bean almandine. It looked and smelled really good. Later she would wonder if the nurses knew that this would be Daddy’s last meal. She fed him and he ate with gusto. He ate nearly all of his food. He even asked her to sprinkle season salt on the dressing.

Mama used to chastise him that he couldn’t have salt and Robin would silently wonder why? He only had days. She would put a fucking cigarette in his mouth if that’s what he wanted, and give him a bucket of salt to swill down if it would make him happy!

Robin thought that his renewed appetite was surely a sign. It was the first time that he could eat more than three or four bites that entire week. She buttered his dinner roll happily, and he even ate nearly half of that!

Mrs. Monkfort from church had nodded happily. “Your Daddy is fighting for his life. He ain’t going nowhere, Robin. That man is as stubborn as a mule! When he gets something into his head it is there.” Later she would wonder why people try to convince you that the impossible is possible? But in that moment Robin wanted to believe with all of her might that her Daddy was not living his last hours on this earth and that he would go into remission one more time and they’d take him home once again.

The church ladies talked her into sleeping in her own bed that night because the foldout chair was too narrow and uncomfortable and her back was paying the price for the last week of lying in one uncomfortable position.

At home she fell into an exhausted sleep, her body had been hanging on by mere threads. She hadn’t realized just how exhausted she actually was. She went into such a deep sleep that the phone shrilled forever before she realized that she wasn’t just dreaming. And then she glanced at the clock and quickly answered.

Mama said. “Robin, baby. Your Daddy died…”

Robin could not remember that drive to the hospital and the long walk down the hospital corridor until she reached the room where Mama paced angrily. “They didn’t wake me up They let him die while I slept and then that nurse had the nerves to shake my arm and say, I’m sorry Mrs. Mathena but your husband just passed. Why didn’t they wake me up before?!” Mama pointed to the couch. “I was only asleep for twenty minutes Robin…just twenty minutes. Damn! I wanted him to see me.” Tears splashed from Mama’s eyes, frustrated, angry tears. She would not break down and cry, though. And so Robin had just wrung her hands and looked on at her father’s lifeless body; her eyes completely devoid of tears.

Robin sat on the floor with her back against the door and her hand clenched into tight fists. Had her Dad opened his eyes that one last time and looked around for them? Maybe wanting to leave them one last message but no one had been there to witness it; to receive it? Maybe he was afraid, maybe he needed someone to hold his hand and help him to pass, maybe he needed to say ‘I love you’, maybe he just needed to look into the eyes of someone that loved him.

Robin buried her hands into her short hair and she cried. Was that how it had been for Miss Lucille? Had she waited for her to come just one more time? The idea haunted her, that Miss Lucille had wanted her, maybe even asked for her. That she hadn’t said goodbye.

Robin jumped to her feet and rushed to the bathroom. Her stomach tumbled and then vomit erupted from her body, choking her and causing her to lose her breath. She spent many long minutes voiding her body into the porcelain bowl.

When her cell phone shrilled a while later, Robin opened her eyes tiredly. She was leaned over the sink, cold water running into the bowl where she had her fingers dangling. She had splashed her face and it helped some. She thought fleetingly of not answering but thought about Jason becoming worried. She straightened, her stomach sore, either from the vomiting, the IBS or her ulcer. She didn’t know and right now she didn’t care. She moved gingerly back to the living room for her purse.

***

Belinda and Amberly had gone to the school’s production room in order to look at the video that Amberly had filmed at last night’s concert. She had set up a camera without telling anyone and had filmed the entire party with the idea that it would make a great concert DVD to sale. They were going to give it to the boys later when they met to talk to the agent. Amberly and Belinda were hyped about the interest that Wheels of Steel had gotten from a real recording agent. And even though they realized that they were no longer a part of where Jason and Peter were headed, there were still things that they could do to make the trip as successful as possible. And so they were turning what had been filmed into a DVD.

Belinda had been thinking about the drinking that she had done the night before and how foolish she felt about the things that she had said and the way that she had acted. Amberly had told her upon picking her up that she was acting like an out of control infant. Her only response had been a dismissive scowl. But then Amberly had given her a solemn look and said, ‘No one likes a sloppy drunk, especially not Peter.’ She had almost snapped out a hurtful response before she shut her dumb mouth.

She, more than most, could not use drugs and alcohol to hide behind. With a grim shake of her head she apologized. She had suggested that they go kidnap Robin from Jason and spend the day doing some female bonding. She was going to make up for her bad behavior to her newest friend.

But Amberly made a face at the suggestion. “I don’t want to do that.” Belinda gave her a serious look.

“Were you shitting Robin about being friends?”

Amberly continued to look forward at the street as she drove. “No. I just want to work on the DVD, which is the only reason that I came to get your drunk ass, so we can get it finished.” Belinda looked at her a moment longer but didn’t say anything else.

And so they worked most of the morning splicing and editing. The two girls worked well together, knowing just what was needed without having to do much conferring. They were artists in their own rights—as much as Jason and Peter were.

Belinda’s mind roamed as her fingers moved automatically to complete the necessary task and she began to take a mental tally of how much of an asshole she’d been over the last few weeks. With a sigh she picked up her cell phone and dialed Robin’s number. It rang so long that she thought it was about to go to voice mail, then it clicked over with no other sound. Suddenly there was a choking noise.

“Robin?”

After a moment there came a muffled response and she could barely hear what sounded like ‘Who is this?’

“Robin? It’s Belinda. Are you…okay?” She turned away until her back was to Amberly. “Are you and Top doing it…cuz you know that you don’t have to answer the phone if you are actually having sex? Robin?” Belinda thought that she might have dialed the wrong number. There was a gust of breath and then Robin’s soft voice.

“Belinda?” Her voice was totally unrecognizable, it was deep and rough.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Amberly finally looked up from where she had been splicing.

“Not really.” Robin responded softly. Was she crying? Belinda straightened quickly.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Is your ulcer bothering you?”

“I’m okay. I’m just tired. My friend died today and I—” Robin said nothing more.

“What’s wrong?” Amberly asked. She momentarily forgot about splicing.

Belinda was shaking her head and frowning. “I don’t know, she’s fucking…”

“Is she with Top?” Amberly exclaimed.

“Is Jason with you?”

“No.” There was suddenly the unmistakable sound of retching and then the phone went dead.

“Is Jason okay?” Amberly asked again, this time she sounded fearful.

“He’s not there. She said her friend died. Robin?!” But of course there was no response. She dialed the number again but there was no answer. She dialed it twice more and when there was still no answer she considered the possibility that Robin could be lying in a puddle of her own bloody vomit. “Come on, Amberly!” Belinda hurried to the door, looking over her shoulder to make sure that Amberly followed.

“I can’t go anywhere with this mess left like this!” She threw Belinda her keys. “Call me!” Belinda had already disappeared out the door after catching the keys and was halfway out the room.

She hurried to Amberly’s car. Unlike her friends she wasn’t loaded with money. A car and insurance cost money that she couldn’t spare. As it is, she was a frequent shopper of the thrift stores for her new wardrobe and her impromptu make-over had put a serious dent into her finances. She was putting herself through college and there would never be a Trust fund set up for her to fall back on.

As she drove Amberly’s car, speeding down the street, she kept ringing Robin’s number. But there was no answer. Maybe she should call Top, or the cops. But instead she kept driving trying to remember which streets she had to use to get to her apartment.

It didn’t take long but felt like years. She hurried up the apartment stairs past people that were sitting out on the stoop who moved out of her way as if she was a charging bull! At Robin’s second floor apartment, Belinda knocked and tried the door but it was locked. She hammered on it knowing that if someone was knocking on her door like this she’d be flushing her stash of pot.

After a moment the door opened and Robin was standing there with her arm around her middle and looking like hell. Belinda’s mouth gaped open. She was the one that had gone on a drunk and Robin looked worse than her.

She squinted at her. “What-? Belinda what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer your phone! It doesn’t hurt to pick it up you know!” She snapped.

Robin stepped aside to allow the girl inside thinking, ‘Oh my god with the phone again!’ “Sorry if I was busy puking my guts out.” Belinda wanted to smack her for not answering the phone and causing her to rush over but she was happy that she was relatively ok. She stepped over a bag of smashed muffins and gave Robin a curious look, because…was she actually seeing what she thought she was seeing?? The other girl had shuffled to the couch and was sitting on it gingerly.

For the moment Belinda just stood there staring at her in shock. At the moment she wasn’t concerned about her friend’s possible perforated ulcer. She was more concerned with the bruising that was visible on her body. Belinda cocked her head in disbelief.

“Robin. Who hit you?”

“Huh?” She squinted in confusion, still gingerly rubbing her belly. Belinda stormed over to the couch and got into her face, but she was looking at her neck and not really at her.

“Oh no. Who put their hands around your throat?!” Robin reached up and touched her neck then she stood and went into the bathroom where she stared at herself in the mirror.

There was a bruise developing on her neck and chin, and angry purple marks on her upper arm, the finger prints still very evident even against her brown skin. Robin suddenly seemed to remember her hand and she looked down at it. Gravel was embedded in the heel of her palm and blood had sprouted in areas surrounding them.