Picking Up The Pieces Page 3

When Athon and Mr. Tucker were alone, he leaned back in his chair again. “You know I’m going to have to suspend you, don’t you Athon?”

  “I know you probably will seein’ as how I’m such a dangerous individual,” she answered with a shrug.

  “I know you’re smart. All of your teachers say so, but you act like a common hooligan.”

  Tucker’s words stung, but Athon would never let him know that. “I can’t help who my parents are or the way I dress, Mr. Tucker. All I want is to finish high school and get the hell outta Duvalle. But right now I’m sorta stuck here. What am I supposed to do when some jerk starts shoving me around?”

  “Walk away. It takes a bigger person to walk away from a fight. You’re suspended until Monday,” Tucker said. “Go to the nurse and get your cut bandaged. Then go home and think about trying to stay out of trouble. Let the office know if your mother gets a phone.”

  Not likely, she thought. She doesn’t even know where I go to school. Athon left the office and walked to her locker to get her backpack. The bell rang and students dressed in fashionable backto-school clothing began filling the hallways as she shoved her way through them and strode toward the front doors of the building.

  Lauren listened to music on her Discman as she waited in the car while her mother ran back into the school to set up a lunchroom account. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the music flowed over her. When she opened her eyes again to adjust the volume, movement at the school entrance drew her attention. She watched as the girl who had been in the office slammed out the front door, shoving it open so hard that it banged against the bricks behind it. The girl cut across the street and jumped up on the curb, walking away from the school. Lauren couldn’t pull her gaze from the almost seductive way the girl’s hips swayed as she walked, her pants riding low on her hips as she sauntered away. She was having trouble tearing her eyes away from the way the girl’s firm-looking ass pressed against the seat of her pants.

  A gentle early fall breeze blew the girl’s short blonde hair around, but Lauren could see her face clearly. She had noticed the striking clear blue of the girl’s eyes in the office. Even though they had been filled with anger, there had been a hint of sadness the defiance couldn’t hide. Lauren wondered what made the intriguing-looking girl sad.

  Chapter Five

  Duvalle, Texas September 1987

  ATHON SLUNG HER backpack onto the work bench and grabbed a set of overalls from the hook on the wall. She stepped into the left leg first and worked the overall leg over her jeans.

  “What the hell you doin’ here, girl?” Tiny Hamilton, the owner of Tiny’s Garage asked. He leaned his head back and snorted. “You got kicked out again, didn’t ya?”

  “Wasn’t the plan, but that’s how it worked out,” Athon said as she slid her right leg into the overalls.

  “How long this time?”

  “I’m all yours until Monday, big man,” she answered with a grin.

  “You need to stay out of trouble. I can’t afford to pay all these extra days you’re gettin’.” Tiny turned around and pulled a well-used rag from the back pocket of his work overalls. He wiped his large meaty hands and shook his head. “I got in a transmission that needs some work. Reckon you can start on that. Don’t fuck it up though. Keys and ticket are in the office.”

  Athon had been working at Tiny’s Garage for the last year and a half. Ever since he caught her trying to steal a hammer and a screwdriver to repair a leak in the roof of the old trailer she and her mother lived in. Tiny was the biggest man she had ever seen and ran faster than she had figured. When he grabbed her from behind, she was stopped instantly. The sight of the six-three man, breathing hard with sweat glistening on his ebony skin had knocked the bravado out of her. Rather than turn her in to the cops Tiny put her to work cleaning his garage, for free, until he thought she’d paid her debt. After she turned sixteen, he hired her and began teaching her to perform simple jobs, like changing oil, filters, and spark plugs. Later he taught her to tune an engine and work on transmissions. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty or scraping her knuckles. She was polite to Tiny’s customers and even did some bookkeeping for him. She felt safer with Tiny than she did at home. Now because of her latest suspension, she had a chance to pick up a few extra bucks. Although Tiny worked on cars and pick-ups, the real money was in working on the big diesel rigs that frequented the truck stop down the road. She had been begging Tiny to teach her about working on the semis, but he thought she wasn’t ready for the big jobs yet.

  The days of late summer in Texas hadn’t begun to shorten yet and there was at least an hour of sunlight left when Athon lowered the double garage door at Tiny’s. He invited her to his house for a home-cooked meal, but, even though the half sandwich she’d managed for lunch before all hell broke loose had worn off hours earlier, she declined the offer. Her pride left no room for charity.

  Tiny dropped her off near the entrance to Buena Ventana Trailer Court and she waited until he was out of sight before walking down the cracked asphalt road. She wasn’t surprised when she found the derelict mobile home empty as usual. She threw her backpack onto the old mattress on the floor of her room and rummaged through the refrigerator and cabinets for something that hadn’t expired the previous year. She picked dirty clothes off the floor and went through the pockets. She crammed her fingers under furniture and between cushions searching for loose change. She eventually came up with a buck thirty-eight. Combined with the five she had been saving for an emergency, she left the trailer and cut across an overgrown field behind it, headed for a burger joint run by a friend’s father.

  Gabriela LeBron had the same dream as Athon. To leave Duvalle, Texas far, far behind. Her parents worked hard, but still barely made ends meet. The burger stand was in another old trailer that the LeBrons towed behind their pick-up. Athon smiled when she saw it was in its usual spot in front of a deserted gas station. She stepped up to the window and looked over the hand-printed menu, checking out the prices. A teenaged girl leaned on her elbows and smiled at Athon. Her clothes were old and faded. A few places along the seams seemed to be unraveling, but everything was neatly pressed. A mass of dark hair surrounded Gabby Le Bron’s head. Gabby was also a student at Carver High School due to a zoning mishap. Her family lived in an old house that was literally cut in two by the current school zone line. Given a choice between two school zones, Gabby’s parents selected the more affluent Carver zone. When the line was finally corrected, Gabby was a senior and grandfathered for her final year. The whole thing had been an example of bureaucracy at its best.

  “Hey, Athon. What can I get you?” Gabby asked while wiping down the already clean counter space.

  “I got six thirty-eight. What can I get with that?” Athon asked.

  “One burger or one cheeseburger or a couple of chili dogs, fries and a drink,” Gabby rattled off. She leaned down closer and whispered, “No tax for you.”

  “Then I’ll take the cheeseburger, fries and a drink,” Athon said as she dropped the five and a fistful of change on the window counter.

  Athon looked at the dusty area around the old travel trailer and waited. Finally, the side door opened and Gabby stepped outside. “Mind if I join you?” she asked.

  “I’m not much company.”

  “Better than nothing,” Gabby said with a grin.

  Athon swung her leg over the warped and sun-bleached seat of a nearby picnic table and peeled the wrapper from around her cheeseburger. She knew it was fifty percent grease, but maybe it would be filling.

  “I heard you got suspended again,” Gabby said, dipping a fry into a splotch of ketchup.

  “Yeah. Gives me a chance to work a couple of extra days.”

  “You’ll never get out of here on what Tiny pays you,” Gabby said as she nibbled at her own burger.

  “I got a plan,” Athon said, chewing her food thoughtfully.

  “Ever’body’s got a fucking plan.” Gabby laughed."What you gonna do? Get knocked up
and draw a check?”

  “I’ll get out,” Athon insisted. She picked up her trash and carried it to a trash can next to the trailer. “Did I miss anything in class?”

  “Nope. Read the next chapter and...”

  “Answer the questions at the end,” Athon finished for her. She wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “See ya Monday,” she said as she started back across the weed-choked field.

  As soon as she was back in the mobile home, she stripped and took a shower. Water and electricity were the only things that worked semi-reliably in the old trailer and for some reason had never been disconnected. She didn’t want to be caught there when her mother came home. She collapsed on the mattress and flipped on the light over her bed after she slipped into a t-shirt and boxers and blocked her bedroom door with an old metal chair to prevent anyone from entering. She didn’t remember dozing and didn’t know how long she’d been asleep when she heard laughter in the front room. She recognized the shrill laughter and buried her head under a pillow. Just as she began to relax enough to fall back to sleep, banging on the door to her room brought her to her feet.

  “What?” she yelled.

  “Open the fuckin’ door, baby,” Michelle Dailey answered.

  Baby? Athon couldn’t remember the last time Michelle had called her that. In fact, she wasn’t sure her mother ever had. Athon got up and pushed the chair away far enough to let the door crack open. Michelle’s appearance was almost scary. She looked a lot older than her thirty-eight years. Her hair looked dull with split ends sticking out and plastered to her forehead by perspiration. Athon couldn’t see any sign of life in her once-lively blue eyes.

  “Got any money on ya, kid?” Michelle slurred as she incessantly licked her lips.

  “No. I don’t get paid until Saturday.” Seeing her mother as the empty shell she’d become disgusted Athon and she started to push the bedroom door shut.

  In a movement of strength Athon hadn’t expected, Michelle lowered her shoulder and rammed it against the flimsy door. Michelle squeezed through the opening and pushed Athon aside. “I know you been squirrelin’ money away somewhere, so don’t be bullshittin’ me, kid,” Michelle growled.

  Michelle Dailey was a shitty parent, but had never injured Athon. Now she turned to her daughter and attempted a crooked smile. Athon backed up to escape the foul odor of Michelle’s breath. Trapped against the thin wall of the room, she cringed as Michelle reached out and grabbed her t-shirt with a fisted hand and pulled her closer. “I need it,” Michelle begged while tears turned her mascara into sludge-like black rivers along her puffy cheeks. “I need it bad.”

  “I don’t have any money,” Athon insisted.

  With a scream that came from somewhere deep inside her body, Michelle released Athon and took a step back before unleashing her desperate fury. She slapped Athon’s face with all the strength she could muster and began pummeling her with her fists. Athon covered her head and tried to disappear into the foul mattress under her until Michelle’s blows weakened and she collapsed on top of her daughter.

  “Where the hell are you, woman? I’m waitin’,” a man’s voice echoed down the hall. “Let’s get it on!”

  Athon pushed Michelle away and stood up. She eased out the door of her bedroom and walked to the bedroom next door, holding her hand behind her back.

  “She’s sick. Go on home,” Athon said in a flat voice.

  The man lying naked on her mother’s bed grinned as he scanned Athon from head to toe. “You look healthy enough,” he said, licking his lips. His hand flopped to his crotch and he stroked himself. “How about it?”

  “Get out,” Athon said, her voice stronger.

  “Oh, come on now. I’ll show you a good time.”

  Athon brought her arm from behind her back and flipped open a switchblade. “Go now while you still got something to grab ahold of,” she said.

  The man jumped from the bed and grabbed his clothes, keeping Athon and the knife in sight as he backed down the narrow hall toward the front room. As soon as he went through the front door, Athon slammed and locked it. She leaned her head against the metal frame and took a deep breath. “Y’all come back now, ya hear,” she muttered.

  She spent the remainder of the night taking care of Michelle as she shook and cried, begging for a drink or a fix. The next day she asked Tiny for an advance on her pay and took it home to Michelle, leaving it on the table next to her bed. When she returned home that evening her mother and the money were both gone, taking away a piece of Athon’s dream of leaving Duvalle.

  Chapter Six

  Duvalle, Texas September 1987

  THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY Lauren walked down the still unfamiliar hallways of Carver High School, her books and notebook clasped against her chest. She stopped at her locker and carefully turned the combination lock built into the locker. She hated combination locks because they never seemed to open for her on the first try. This one was no exception. In frustration she knelt down to place the load in her arms on the floor. She closed her eyes to concentrate and rubbed her hands on the sides of her jeans. Her locker was next to a short hallway that led outside and between the sections of the high school. The door opened every few seconds and students flooded in, jostling her slightly. After the immediate onslaught of students, she heard giggling. When no one walked past her, she glanced around the corner, her eyes growing wide. A couple was pressed against the wall and apparently enjoying a moment of semi-privacy as they kissed and ran their hands over one another’s bodies. Lauren was stunned at such a public display of affection. She knew she was staring and pretty sure she was blushing. A student slammed a nearby locker, reminding her what she was supposed to be doing. She glanced at her wristwatch. When she looked up again hooded pale blue eyes outlined with heavy black eyeliner seemed to smile at her, daring her to say something. The second girl was engrossed in placing a hickey on the blonde’s neck.

  “Hey! Not so hard, baby,” the blonde said, never taking her eyes from Lauren’s. She smiled crookedly at Lauren and whispered, “Got a problem?”

  Lauren shook her head and returned to fighting with the lock. The two girls parted with a quick kiss at the entrance to the hall. The blonde leaned against the corner of the wall and watched Lauren attempt to get into her locker.

  “Need some help? These old locks can be a bitch to open,” the girl said.

  “And I suppose you have the magic touch,” Lauren snapped.

  The blonde pushed away from the wall and held her hands up. “Sorry I asked,” she said.

  A boy walking down the hallway veered toward the blonde and ran her into the wall. He laughed. “Sorry, Dailey. Didn’t see ya.”

  “I heard there’s a sale on glasses over at Wal-Mart,” she responded as she rubbed her shoulder.

  The boy reached out and touched her neck. “See you’re still going out with one of the Hoover sisters,” he said with a laugh.

  “Fuck off, Hickson,” Dailey said. “Unless you want me to kick your ass again this week.” She looked around and grinned. “Larson’s not around to save you right now. Bummer.”

  The boy looked at the girl with him and at Lauren. “You should wash that mouth out.”

  “Why?” Dailey sneered with a glance at the girl hanging on his arm. “Your dick ain’t never gonna be in it.”

  It became obvious to Lauren that the situation might escalate as the boy made a fist and stepped closer. She grabbed Dailey’s arm. “Do you really think you can open this thing?” she asked. “I don’t want to be late for class.”

  “Sure. No problem,” Dailey answered, glaring at the boy she’d called Hickson as the girl with him pulled him away. She finally turned her attention to Lauren. “What’s the combination?”

  Lauren told her and watched in amazement as the lock opened on her first try.

  “Thank you.”

  “Like I said, no problem. And I promise not to come back later and steal your valuables.”

>   “Unless you want more books you won’t find anything worth having,” Lauren said. She held her hand out. “I’m Lauren Shelton.”

  “I saw you registering last week. Athon Dailey,” Athon said as she took Lauren’s hand. “I think we share a class. English or something.”

  “That’s an unusual name,” Lauren commented as she took a book from the locker and put another one inside.

  “I wasn’t asked for my opinion about it. Gotta run,” Athon said as she turned away and jogged down the hall.

  The bell rang to begin the next class and Lauren hoped her teacher would take the fact that she was new into account.

  ATHON OVERSLEPT THE next morning and didn’t make it to school until the beginning of the second class.

  “Hey, freak!” a boy’s voice called out as he shoved her from behind. Athon caught herself and turned to glare at the boy. He tried to step around her, but she grabbed the belt loop of his baggy jeans and jerked them hard into his crotch.

  “Leave. Me. Alone, you fuckin’ re-tard,” she hissed into his face. With a final shove against his chest, she stomped away. School hadn’t been in session a month and already the gnats were swarming around her. She turned into the room designated as the location for her next class and found a desk in the back row. She slouched down in the seat as far as it would allow her five-ten frame to settle and ruffled a hand through her spiky blonde hair. She wasn’t vain, but hoped the home-done haircut wasn’t as obvious as she thought it probably was.

  She stretched her long legs out and watched other students make their way into the classroom and eventually fill almost every seat. Two athletic-looking young men came in together and looked around. One nudged the other as they sauntered toward Athon, stopping practically on top of her.

  “Move, freak,” a tall, muscular young man with sandy hair ordered. As if to make his point, he reached down and shoved her on the shoulder. She glared up at them, but picked up her ratty backpack and moved forward one seat to allow them to sit together.