Читать книгу The Prized Girl - Amy K. Green - Страница 12

JENNY’S LAST PAGEANT was on April 19, and almost five months had passed since then. It wasn’t her biggest competition, not even close. She would have won the Grand Supreme title with ease if she had gotten that far.

She hated pageants by this point. It had been years since she actually enjoyed them, but it was Linda’s obsession. Even her father embraced the pageants. He told her it was a real opportunity for her to become something. She wasn’t sure what.

With success comes fans. Even a child beauty queen from a small town can have fans, obsessive ones. Her biggest fan was a grown man with a child’s IQ named Benjy. She started noticing him when she was nine. He was at almost every pageant. He sat alone, watched the entire show, and always gave a standing ovation during crowning.

When she was ten, he gave her a birthday card. She was walking from the stage to her mother in the back of the ballroom when he stopped her. He was bashful and wouldn’t make eye contact. The card was homemade with ten balloons individually cut out from different pieces of construction paper. The message was simple: Happy Birthday, Jenny. You’re the prettiest of all the girls. Love, Benjy.

Jenny made it a point to say hi to Benny at every pageant after that, always when Linda was out of sight. She wouldn’t understand.

Sometimes he would bring her small presents, usually something from a vending machine. Her parents felt strongly that presents were for birthdays and Christmas only, which gave it an added thrill. Occasionally, Benjy would give her letters. They were short and harmless, usually about something she did in a pageant that he liked. Jenny would squirrel the letters away in her pocket, feeding off keeping a secret from Linda.

On April 19, Jenny came to the pageant with her own letter for Benjy. It was one page of notebook paper about how she didn’t want to do pageants anymore. She wrote it down so she could get it out, and then realized she didn’t have anyone else to share it with.

It was a glitz pageant, Jenny’s least favorite kind. It required hours of prep time, with Linda poking and prodding at her hair and face. The pageant had an Easter theme, and the irony of having all these slutted-out children dress as bunnies was lost on the starry-eyed parents. Linda was still in the back, adding last-minute sequins to the tail, when Jenny took the opportunity to give the note to Benjy.

He was sitting in the fourth row, and she waved him over to the corner of the ballroom. He bumbled over to her. “You looked very beautiful onstage. You look beautiful now too, I didn’t mean … I just …” He tripped over his words, worried he had offended her, shifting from one foot to the other.

She grabbed his hand to calm him down. “Thank you, Benjy. You’re so sweet.”

He steadied his feet. “You have to go change. They don’t give you a lot of time here for this one.”

“I know, I just wanted to give you something.” She reached into a slit in her costume and pulled out the note, folded up into a small square.

“A note for me?” He beamed.

“Yup.” She handed it over. “Don’t read it yet. Wait till after the show, OK?”

“OK.”

“’K, gotta run.”

“Good luck,” he said as she ran backstage.

LINDA PULLED JENNY’S HAIR back so tight under the bunny ears she thought she might cry. Not an emotional cry, but an uncontrollable release of pain. Large pink satin bunny ears were affixed firmly to her head with about twenty bobby pins. Whiskers were drawn on her face with a thick eye pencil, then highlighted with sequins. One more light pass of translucent powder over Jenny’s face and Linda was satisfied.

“Perfect.” She glowed.

FROM THE WINGS, Jenny caught a glimpse of Benjy, two rows back on the far aisle. He was staring down into his lap. Benjy usually never took his eyes off the stage. She wasn’t even sure he blinked. Jenny nudged forward to get a better look.

It was her note. She should have just let him read the note when she gave it to him. Linda could have waited another five minutes. He began unfolding it.

Another girl finished smiling, waving, and bunny-hopping around the stage. Jenny was next. She edged closer to the curtain without taking her eyes off Benjy as he read. His face twisted, and then he was out of his chair, head tucked down, running for the exit.

In a split second, Jenny was running backstage. She excused herself through her peers, who were shocked to see the one to beat bailing in a panic. She slipped out into the hallway just in time to see Benjy close himself in the janitorial closet down the hall.

She ran toward the closet, heels clacking on the tile floor. As she reached the door, she heard her name announced onstage. She hesitated only a second. She was going to be disqualified. Linda was going to have a panic attack.

Jenny knocked softly on the closet door. “Benjy, it’s Jenny. Can I come in?”

“Go away.”

“It’s going to be OK. I’m coming in.”

She slowly opened the door. Benjy was sitting in the corner next to a mop bucket, his arms wrapped around his knees. Jenny knelt down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to make you upset. I just wanted to tell you, because you’re my friend.”

“We’re friends?”

“Of course,” she said.

“You’re so good at pageants. Why do you want to stop?”

“I don’t like it. It’s almost every weekend on the road with only my mother. They’re all the same. I just want to try something else.”

“Your mom’s gonna be real mad.”

“I know. Now give me a hug and let’s go finish this one.” She wrapped her arms around him. His hug was soft and encompassing. Jenny felt calm and quiet for the first time in a long time until the door flung open. She lunged away from Benjy, but it was too late. They’d been seen.

Linda’s scream filled the hall. The sound was piercing. “Get away from her!” she screeched. “Someone call the police!” Linda grabbed Jenny by the arm, pulling her like a rag doll out of the closet. She slammed the door closed, trapping Benjy inside.

“Mom, stop! He’s harmless.” Jenny tried to pull her mom away from the door to free Benjy, but her solid thighs were too much. Linda didn’t budge.

“Call the police!” Linda screamed again.

Benjy was banging on the door from the inside.

“Let him out! You’re scaring him.” Jenny punched her mother in the stomach, her satin bunny ears flopping back and forth.

A crowd gathered around. No one was sure what to do. Jenny was pageant royalty, her mom the queen. The pageant director pushed through the spectators. He grabbed Jenny by both arms and pulled her from her mother.

“Linda, what’s going on?”

“Call the police. A pervert was attacking my daughter and I’ve trapped him in here.”

“No! She’s lying.” Jenny flailed in the director’s arms and he tightened his grip.

“Take Jenny away. I’ll handle this,” he said to Linda, and they exchanged prisoners, Jenny for Benjy.

Linda squeezed her arms so tight her fingernails broke Jenny’s skin. She dragged her daughter toward the exit while Jenny scrambled her feet, unsuccessfully trying to regain control of her body.

“I hate pageants!” Jenny screamed toward the gawkers. “You’re the perverts, not him.” Jenny had never acted like this. She was a rabid animal. “I’m never doing one of these ever again. Do you hear me?” And with that, Linda shoved her out the door. Jenny’s last pageant.

JENNY AGREED TO see the school guidance counselor, Ms. Willoughby, as a compromise with her parents for skipping cheerleading tryouts. Linda thought with a little counseling Jenny would change her mind. Her father didn’t care so much about cheerleading as long as Jenny replaced it with some sort of extracurricular activity. His exact phrasing was, “I won’t let that school cultivate your lack of ambition like it did for your sister,” which was his pretentious way of saying Virginia had done nothing then, so she did nothing now, as if a semester of volleyball was the solution.

The most interesting thing about Ms. Willoughby was that she was dating Mr. Renkin, and the halls echoed with rumors of students catching them hooking up. Jenny sat outside Ms. Willoughby’s office waiting for her turn, but when the door was flung open, it wasn’t another misguided student; it was the man himself, Mr. Renkin.

“Jenny …” He stopped in his tracks.

“Hi.”

“Hope you aren’t in any trouble,” he said, winking as if the idea were impossible. That was annoying. He didn’t know anything about her. She just looked at him, no need for further conversation. He brushed it off and continued on his way.

Jenny stood and poked her head into Ms. Willoughby’s office. It was depressing; there wasn’t even a window. She sat at a small desk, rubbing her forehead and staring blankly at the papers on her desk.

“Ms. Willoughby?” Jenny said, not sure if she should be interrupting.

The counselor looked up. “Oh, Jenny, come in.”

Jenny took a seat as Ms. Willoughby shuffled the papers away.

“So, what brings you to see me?”

“My parents wanted me to. I skipped cheerleading tryouts and now they’re worried I’m becoming a delinquent.”

“Are you?”

Jenny couldn’t help but laugh. “My mother thinks you’re going to convince me to do it.”

“I’m not here to convince you of anything. I think you should only do what you feel comfortable with. I’m just here to help.”

“Were you a cheerleader?” Jenny asked, wondering if the pretty blonde woman in front of her had walked in her shoes and survived.

“Not quite.” Ms. Willoughby glanced down and smiled, slipping momentarily into her own memories. “You’re at a difficult age. How old are you? Fourteen?”

“Next month.”

“Some people are exactly who they are from the day they’re born, but for most of us, we change, and that’s completely normal. Don’t be afraid to change, even if other people give you a hard time.”

“My mom’s not going to like that advice.”

“Well, sometimes it’s hard for a parent to look at their own child objectively. Just know that someday you’re going to move out of that house. You’ll be on your own, and if you let your parents make all your decisions, you won’t be prepared.”

This woman was basically telling her to disobey her parents but in a totally alluring way that made it seem not only appropriate but also a sign of maturity. Jenny was into it. None of her friends talked like this. Their idea of the future was next semester.

“Nothing that you do right now has to be a life sentence,” she continued, like Jenny’s desire for her to keep talking was palpable. “Try new things. Let old things go. Whatever feels right to you.”

Jenny only heard what she wanted to hear. It was a green light, permission to trust her own instincts.

THE HOUSE WAS pitch-black as Jenny crept down the stairs from her bedroom into the living room. She hadn’t heard a peep from Linda in over an hour, and her father was in New York. She ran her hand against the wall until she reached a small accent lamp on the closest end table.

The lamp gave off just enough light for her to see her way around the living room. Behind the couch, along the wall under a large bay window, was an alcohol cabinet. It stretched the five-foot length of the window and doubled as a table for Linda’s expansive Christmas village during the holidays. The rest of the year, Linda kept the top barren, like nothing else was worthy of such prominent display.

This was Jenny’s first attempt at sneaking out, and she had a newfound appreciation for the almost wall-to-wall carpeting in the house. She slid the cabinet open, revealing an assortment of bottles that she couldn’t distinguish. She pulled out the first one, a dark brown color, bourbon. She unscrewed the top, took a whiff, and gagged. She returned it and opted for a much less offensive bottle of peppermint schnapps.

Her bag was too small, and the end of the bottle poked out from under her arm as she slid through the kitchen and out the garage door, the exit farthest from her mother’s bedroom.

THERE WERE NO STREETLIGHTS, but the moon was full and it adequately lit her path. JP was waiting at the bottom of the hill where they had agreed on. When he saw her, he flicked his cigarette behind him.

“Did you have any trouble?” he asked.

“No, my mom is dead to the world.”

“She’s not going to come down the road screaming, is she?”

“No.” Jenny laughed, praying it was the truth.

“You wanna go to my place?”

“Is your uncle going to be there?” Everyone knew JP’s uncle Boomer. He was a local celebrity, a harmless old drunk with splotchy red skin who always wore shorts, even in the dead of winter.

“Nah, he’s gone. I don’t know where he went. Been a couple days.”

“OK,” she agreed, ready to take the next step in her rebellion and follow him up the hill.

THE TREES LINING the dirt road seemed taller at night. The woods weren’t particularly dense, serving more as privacy than an unforgiving maze, but that didn’t make them any less scary at night. She sped up to walk closer to JP, causing the liquor in her bag to slosh around.

“What do you got in there?” he asked.

“Oh, I took this from the house.” She pulled the bottle out and presented it to him.

“What are you going to do with that?” He laughed.

“I just thought we could have a couple drinks.”

“You don’t have to try and impress me, you know?” he said without looking back at her.

“I’m not.”

“Drinking is no good. Makes you do bad things.”

“Not all the time. Sometimes it’s just fun.”

“Says who?”

“I don’t know. Everyone.”

“That’s my house,” he announced, pointing through a patch of trees and changing the subject.

BOOMER’S HOUSE WAS, as she’d expected, in shambles: old worn furniture, empty beer cans, a distinctive stale smell. “We can sit out back,” JP insisted as soon as they were inside, leading her around a stained plaid couch to the sliding door to the backyard.

As they stepped outside, a motion-sensor floodlight lit up the overgrown lawn. There were two rusty lawn chairs, a cooler, and a lot of cigarette butts. Jenny had zero interest in sitting on one of the rusty chairs but didn’t want to seem high-maintenance. Maybe she would get tetanus, but she was sneaking out to hang with a boy. Bad things were supposed to happen.

He reached into the cooler, sifted past a few beers, and pulled out a Sprite. “In case you get sick of the schnapps.”

Jenny took the soda, relieved she didn’t have to drink the alcohol. “You like living here?” she asked.

“It’s OK. Better than my grandma’s place.” He cracked open a Sprite of his own.

“You think you’ll stay here for a while?”

“I bet you’d like that.” He smirked. “You ever get out of this town?”

“I used to travel a lot for pageants.” She cringed as soon as she said it.

“Pageants? Are you a little beauty queen?”

“Not anymore.”

“Fair enough. I got a cousin in Mexico. You ever been there?”

“No. Not even close.”

“I’m gonna go there. Soon. Once I get the money.”

“How much money?” She hoped for an insurmountable amount that would keep him there with her forever.

“Probably like a few grand. My cousin can get me a job once I get there. I’ll just do that until I’m eighteen. Then I’ll come back and join the marines. What about you? You got a plan?”

“I’m only thirteen.”

“So what? You gotta have a plan. That’s how you know you’re living your life and not someone else’s. You make the plan, then you stick to it. If you can’t follow through, then what’s the point?” JP chugged the rest of his Sprite, crushed the can, and threw it into the tall grass. “You wanna see something?”

“Sure.”

He hopped up and led her toward the edge of the lawn, where the woods began. Jenny was not a fan of the woods at night, but she had to make a choice. Was she going to be a little girl who ran back home, or was she finally going to experience something?

He slowed to a stop as he approached the rock wall bordering the first trees and she was relieved. That is, until he reached behind the wall and pulled out a knife.

Jenny retreated, and he seemed to regret not prefacing it. “It’s OK, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s just a machete.” He laid it across both hands and presented it to her in a nonthreatening way. She inched closer to inspect the weapon.

“Why do you have that?” she asked.

“Gotta have a weapon. In case anyone fucks with you.” He stepped back from her as he gripped the handle and waved the knife around with calculated precision. “There’s lots of bad people out there, Jenny.” He whacked the machete into the closest tree. “You know what happened to my mom?” he asked.

“What?”

“Killed. Ex-boyfriend. Beat her to death.” He pulled the knife out of the tree. “I was pretty young. I don’t really remember it. I kind of remember hiding, but I don’t know. Maybe I just think I remember.” He inspected the surface of his weapon, brushing off a sliver of bark.

Jenny wasn’t sure what to say. His story was so personal and so terrifying.

“I was too young to do anything, you know? Only four. It’s not like I could have stopped him.”

“Yeah, of course,” she said when she realized her silence was causing him some discomfort. It wasn’t her intention. Not at all. She wanted to comfort him, but she couldn’t find the right words and he didn’t seem receptive to a hug, standing there gripping his machete. “What happened after?”

“I had to move in with my grandma. She sucked. She always talked so much shit about my mom, but I know most of it wasn’t true. I think she was just pissed to be stuck with me. Boomer says my mom was really nice.”

“I’m sure she was.”

“Yeah, doesn’t matter now. Now it’s just me. But see, that’s why you need a plan. So you don’t end up like her.” He slid the machete back behind the rock, and Jenny was happy to see it go.

“C’mon, it’s getting late,” he said, giving her permission to run home.