Chapitre 24: Chapter 23: Mommy Dearest
"Fuck, fuck, come on baby go faster!" I tapped the steering wheel with my fingers, my other hand shifting gears as the engine roared. The glow of my headlights cast a narrow beam across the road highlighting the bright yellow lines of the two-lane highway. The cool night air was filled with dense fog as Nixon Creek ran alongside the highway for a good portion of the valley that made up Munford. Setting my headlights to low beams I leaned forward over the steering wheel as I fought to make anything out in the dense cloud of haze drifting across the raised highway.
My eyes took a nervous glance toward my phone lying in the passenger seat next to me. The text from Clara had been short, but those few words sent me into a frenzy trying to get back home. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, my eyes narrowing into slits as I thought about what could be happening at the house right now. If that bitch was there then no doubt she was harassing my sister, and that thought alone had my blood boiling. Using the automatic windows I cracked the driver-side glass to cool off, my body shuddering as I took a deep breath.
I didn't even slow down at the turn-off onto Old 37, the y-shaped fork in the road coming closer and closer as I jerked the wheel sharply. The sound of Betty's tires squealing filled the air I felt weightless for a moment before gravity returned as I rolled the wheel back. I had taken the turn wide, the skid marks of my tires were on the other side of the road. Had another car been there we would've collided in the strangest T-bone ever recorded.
The old road was worn, the asphalt a light almost white-grey color. Every few feet was a crack running across the width of the road, the black patches of asphalt they'd used to fill in potholes dotted the thing like a patchwork quilt. Not a single light lit the road, the moon and its soothing glow were blocked out by the dense canopy of autumn leaves. A few of the crimson and yellow scales peppered my car windshield as they fell to the earth, my tires kicking up a gale of them as they swirled behind the red glow of my taillight. The farther I went along the road the steeper the incline grew as the path ran up the hills surrounding the valley.
My heart hammered in my chest as I turned down the gravel drive, the orange glow of the single street lamp in the sea of darkness soaked my car in its warm glow. The darkness returned however when I continued down the winding road, the dense forest surrounding it snuffing out any light. I could hear the clunking sound of gravel bouncing up under the car, the tires kicking up more rocks as I drove faster.
The first thing I saw was the bright light of the sheds flood light, the white glow blanketing the yard and the gravel parking spaces in front of it. Old Red sat where I left her, the car was covered in a thin layer of condensation from the cooling temperatures, beads of moisture dripping down the glass windows like rain. Everything looked in its place and for a second I wondered if maybe everything had been a prank, Clara getting back at me for some perceived slight against her.
But as the beams of my headlights illuminated the shadow Old Red cast facing the house I saw a familiar motorcycle parked out front. A black Harley-Davidson Sportster 1200 rested in the shadow my car casted, the chrome exhaust pipes gleaming as my headlights illuminated it. The thing looked a little more beat up than the last time I saw it, the matte black paint had nicks and scratches I don't remember it having. Well, I guess after eight years of not seeing it things were bound to change.
Pulling to the right of my old car I gently rolled Betty inside of the lean-to, the engine purring as it fell asleep. Kicking open my door I was already walking across the dirt floor of the overhang, my mind wasn't even clear enough to lock the car as I slammed the door shut with a shove. Crunching across the gravel I made a beeline for the cement block pavers, my feet walking up the wooden steps as they groaned with each move. The screen door to the porch hissed as I pulled it open, the sight beyond causing my eyes to widen like saucers.
"Hey, Sug, it's been a while." Her once smooth-as-honey voice had deepened, years of smoking giving her a rasp that tickled my ears. Her blue eyes were softer than I remembered, the slight wrinkle in the corner of her eyes and the small smile lines at the edge of her lips told of her battle with old man time. Her porcelain skin was still as flawless as ever, and the light powdery blush of her makeup made her look like a fine china doll.
"Why're you here?" My question was terse as I looked at the woman sitting on one of the rickety rocking chairs on the porch. Her red-painted lips were spread in a small smile, her pearly white teeth gleaming under the soft glow of the living room window as it cast light from one of the table lamps near the couch. That same small gap in her teeth was there but unlike my expectations, she wasn't missing a single tooth.
A deep sense of injustice welled up in my gut. Shouldn't she be a husk, why is she still as plump as ever? Eight years went by without her facing a single consequence for abandoning us, for leaving us alone with Dad. The man took out her betrayal on us as he tortured me and pretended Clara didn't exist, and not once in their relationship did the man ever hit her. I wanted her to suffer and it made me sick to see her look happy. Why couldn't you have just died, me and Clara would be much better off if you did.
"What, can't I see my—"
"She's not been your daughter for eight years, Sadie, just the same as I haven't been your stepson since you decided to abandon us!"
"I did not abandon you, Ethan, but I couldn't stay here!"
"Yeah, you were too busy puffin' on your bowl to give a shit. Dad beat me because of you!"
"…"
"He took his cigarettes and put them out on my skin and when I cried from the pain he beat me for being 'sissy'."
"Ethan, I'm s—"
"Shut the fuck up, I don't want to hear it! You are the reason Clar didn't have a childhood! She had to learn about puberty from one of her teachers after she bled through on her desk! She had to learn to cook because your lazy ass was out getting high and getting plowed by your dealer! Fucking Youtube tutorials taught her more about styling her hair than you ever did!"
"…"
"Did you really think I'd let you come back here and we'd all pretend like you didn't fuck us over, that an apology would make your years of neglect moot? Well, guess what bitch, me and Clar want nothing to do with your skanky ass!"
Sadie's head hung low, a sniffling sound filling the air as her shoulders shook. I could care less as I felt quite refreshed yelling at her, my feet taking me to the front door as I rapped my knuckles across the aluminum. The door cracked open with a squeaky groan, a pair of blue eyes meeting mine. They were bloodshot and tear stains ran down her cheeks but I could tell she wasn't sad about my treatment of her 'mother'.
"You can stay on the porch tonight, Dad liked to do this to me when you left." I looked over my shoulder as I spoke, a wicked grin growing on my face as the woman sobbed louder. The door opened fully as Clara's slender fingers wrapped around my wrist before dragging me inside, the door slamming behind us and shutting out the girl still on the porch.
***
(Clara's POV):
I heard everything he said, the trailer's paper-thin walls even meant that I could hear Mom sniffling. My heart ached when he mentioned what Dad had done to him, the stinging feeling of tears dripping down my face followed his hoarse voice. He sounded like he was in so much pain, the deep baritone of his voice cracking as he was on the verge of tears. The warble in his throat was a telltale sign that he was choking back his emotions.
When he mentioned me, I felt my heart melt. A warm feeling grew in my chest as I pressed my back against the cool aluminum door. The tears kept streaming down my cheeks, my breath hitching as I thought back to our childhood.
I remember the night I first started cooking I burnt my hand on the stove and dumped the meal I'd worked all evening to prepare on the floor. Dad had given me that look he always gave me when I made a mistake, the man muttering under his breath 'Can't you do anything right?'.
Just like now, I cried but Ethan was there. He wrapped my hand in bandages after cleaning it and applying burn cream, his soft chubby fingers brushing against my skin. Taking me to the kitchen I watched as the boy fumbled around with the stove, the sizzling of two slices of bologna filling the air. That night we had less-than-stellar fried bologna sandwiches but I'll always remember them as one of the best meals ever.
I cracked the door open after Ethan had knocked on it, my eyes meeting his. He looked relieved like he'd just taken a massive shit after three days of constipation. When he turned back to tell Mom she was sleeping on the porch the smile on his face was downright sinister but I couldn't help but smile. Wrapping my hand around his wrist I dragged him inside, our bodies pressing close as a dangerous feeling welled up in me as I asked him something I never thought I'd ask.
"Hey E?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I sleep with you tonight?"
"…You aren't going to kick in your sleep like you used to right?"
"That was four years ago, I've grown out of it!"
"Okay, but if you do it I'll dump your ass on the floor."
"Ooh, Scary."
***
(Sadie's POV):
"…" My nails dug into the sleeve of my jacket as I sobbed, the stinging pain helping keep me from thinking about it. Why did I listen to that stupid preacher? I knew this was a bad idea and I let that stupidly handsome minister tell me I needed to ask Ethan and Clar for forgiveness. It was doomed from the start because that man was just like his father, stubborn to the point of insanity.
I'm sure Clar would come around eventually, the girl could never really stay mad at me. All I had to do was show her how much I'd turned my life around and bam, she'd be putty in my hands. Ethan on the other hand would take a more delicate approach, the boy had always let his eyes wander and on many occasions I'd caught him staring at my tits. If all it took for me to earn his forgiveness was to spread my legs for him then it would be well worth the trade.
"I can fix it, I can fix it, I can fix it." I muttered over and over again as I sunk my nails further into my arm, the stinging pain sending jolts of electricity through my body. The pain felt good, and I deserved every bit of it.
Pastor Wilson talked about atonement but he didn't know anything about it, the lengths I would go to just to hear my precious baby daughter call me Mommy. To hear the sweet little 'I love you' muttered by a boy acting tough to hide the kind man he is underneath. I would do anything to see them smile, my eyes peering in through the living room window.
The two were pressed up against each other, Clar giving Ethan a look I knew all too well. That blush spread across her face and the way she tucked a strand of her long golden hair behind her ears told me all I needed to know. I should've been outraged by this, worried that my daughter would engage in an act of incest with her brother. In reality however I smiled, the perfect way to atone for my failures as a mother was staring me right in the face.
"Don't worry baby, Momma's going to help." I muttered as I watched them leave the living room, their feet leading them into the direction of the kitchen. At that moment my stomach decided to growl louder than the roar of a grizzly bear, a blush spreading across my cheeks at the unladylike sound leaving my body. My eyes turned toward my bike, the saddle bag had some jerky and I had a bedroll on the other side. I guess I was going to rough it tonight, but instead of feeling down about it, I smiled. The entrance back into their hearts was through a different type of love.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone