“You can’t just come back after being away for months and act like we’re fine, Eli,” I continued. What I said wasn’t fair. I knew it wasn’t fair, but Eli was doing well. He was in school and on his way to becoming something. In my mind, every time he came back to this godforsaken town—to me—was a deadly distraction.
Eli kicked my bed with such force I felt it in my bones. I stepped back, afraid of what he was going to do.
“God dammit Grace. I left because you had already left—left me! What is going on with you?” He stepped toward me and I stepped back. A look of pain crossed his features. “Where have you gone?”
“I haven’t gone anywhere. Not yet.” I had to be strong. I had to stay committed to this distance, for Eli. The sooner Eli forgot about this town and me, the sooner he could become something.
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Eli yelled. “Something happened to you the day your daddy died but you won’t tell me.” I flinched at his words, remembering the day.
“Will you at least tell me where you’re goin’?” Sorrow etched Eli’s features and for an instant I reached for him, but just as quickly I pulled back.
I shook my head. “I think it’s best you don’t know. Shouldn’t you be gettin’ back to school anyway, Eli?”
Silence filled the room like poisoned gas. I refused to look up at Eli, even though I knew he was staring at me. I let the minutes tick by like hours, keeping my hands in my backpack like it was a patient bleeding out and my hands were the only thing keeping it alive.
“Fine Gracie,” Eli said, breaking the silence. “If this is how you want it to be. Fine.” Eli stormed out of my room, his fading footsteps telling me when it was safe to breathe again.
Sometime later I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed out into the living room. Mama was sitting in the chair staring at nothing like she did every day now. Her daily routine consisted of getting out of bed and moving to the recliner in the living room where she sat and stared out the window. It was as if she was dead but her soul had yet to move on.
“Mama?” I asked, even though I knew it was futile. She wouldn’t acknowledge me. “Mama, I’m leavin’.” Mama’s face didn’t register my voice. I didn’t want to just up and leave, but I knew it was time go. I walked over to the chair and placed my hand on her shoulder. She flinched as if I’d hit her, so I quickly jerked my hand back.
“Mama, I’m going to California. I’m going to see Vic. I love you Mama.” I felt like I should kiss her goodbye or something, but the way she’d reacted to my hand made me think otherwise. I gave Mama one last look before I shut and locked the door behind me. She didn’t say goodbye, but then I didn’t expect her to.
I’d been on the road for a few weeks, but it only took a few days to realize how naive I was. I’d thought my few hundred dollars would be enough to get me from Georgia to California, but that wasn’t the case. First I had to get out of my small town, which meant hitching a ride with some farmers to the next town over. I’d thought that would be the hardest part.
I was wrong.
When looking at the prices in the station, I realized one ticket from Georgia to California was going to eat up the entire savings of four hundred dollars I’d accumulated by working with that flea Zero. So, I bought a bus ticket that got me to Oklahoma.
From Oklahoma I hitchhiked to Colorado. By the time I reached Colorado I smelled like the devil himself, having not showered in two weeks. The biggest meal I’d had was a kid’s meal a nice family in Kansas bought me. My hair was a tangled mess. My fingers were grey with dirt.
I’d nearly given up, thinking I was going to live on the streets for the rest of my life. I stumbled down the cold Colorado streets, hoping for some kind of sign. People ignored me mostly, because to them I was just another listless vagrant.
I’d lost track of time, seeing as I couldn’t afford a watch, but I grew to understand the day by the people. When people were out and going about their business, that was the busy time; when it was dark and only people like me were out, that was the haunted hour. Right then, it was the haunted hour.
Slinking down the street, I began to resign myself to the fact that I would have to sleep another night on the streets. I resigned myself to the idea that California was only a dream and I would never see it come to fruition.
The shelter was packed, meaning there was no space for me. I could sleep outside the shelter, against the walls, like most did. Even if you didn’t score a coveted cot, the walls seemed to offer some kind of safety and heat. That night, though, I didn’t feel like doing that. I just couldn’t bear to acknowledge that I’d given up my house in Georgia for this.
Even if the house was a terrible one, it was still a roof.
Ambling along the road, I contemplated my limited options. All I had was my backpac
k, and that didn’t keep me warm during the cold Colorado nights. I’d gotten lucky the first few nights there and was able to score a cot at the homeless shelter. Recently, I hadn’t been so lucky. I hadn’t been able to find a place to sleep, so I hadn’t slept.
Sleep deprivation was starting to get to me. I was seeing things in the shadows and hearing things as I walked.
I saw him. I saw Eli everywhere I went.
I turned a corner and saw a giant stone structure: a church. In the windows, a face appeared to me and I jumped back, a silent scream escaping my mouth. I saw Daddy’s hardened jaw glaring at me. I knew it was probably the sleep deprivation, but I had to know if he was in there. Maybe his soul couldn’t rest. I took the steps two by two and tried at the door.
It was open.
“Daddy?” I called into the darkness. “Daddy are you there?” My voice echoed against the tall ceilings. I followed the echo into other rooms, eventually landing in the biggest, most vaulted of rooms. Rows and rows of seats—I remembered reading they’re called pews—lead up to the altar.
I called for Daddy one last time before moving slowly up the aisle. Despite all the religion in my house, I’d never once been in a church. It was magnificent and very awe-inspiring. I took my seat in a pew, pretending to be a church goer. I imagined Daddy up there teaching about hellfire and sins.
I shivered.