Читать книгу Tully - Paullina Simons - Страница 28

When she came to, it was morning and raining. Her body ached and her wrists throbbed. She crawled up the embankment, got into her car, turned around at the next exit, and drove 150 miles east, back to Manhattan, to DeMarco & Sons. Her quest for the west had brought Tully as far as WaKeeney on the Central Plain.

In Manhattan, Robin took care of her. Tully spent forty-eight hours at Manhattan Memorial, where the doctors reset her nose for the second time in her life, bandaged up her two cracked ribs, and put a half dozen or so stitches in each of her wrists.

She stayed with Robin for two weeks, until the middle of June. Tully didn’t really want to stay with Robin, but she didn’t have much choice. He was at work most of the day, anyway. She drove around and shopped and spent some time at the library. Sometimes she went to Topeka to see Julie. Tully did not see Julie very often.

In the evening, Robin and Tully went out to dinner or to bars or movies or nightclubs. Once, Tully entered a dance competition with a handsome Kansas State dance student, and when they won, she said to him that she’d never met an Irish guy who could dance, and he told her he’d never met anyone who could dance like her. They won two hundred dollars. He gave her half and bought her a drink. Later that night, she and Robin had a ranting, jealous fight.

The following day, Tully called up the student and drove over to the off-campus house he was sharing with three other dance students. The two had sex in the afternoon. Tully left, concluding that he danced much better than he fucked.

For two weeks Tully didn’t know what to do with herself. She often just drove out onto I-70 and turned around somewhere around Salina.

Once Tully drove to Lawrence to visit Mr and Mrs Mandolini. Lynn never came back to the house on Sunset Court, but stayed with her mother until Tony could get them a place out of town. They moved to Lawrence and now lived in a one-bedroom apartment off Massachusetts Street. Tony commuted every day, continuing as assistant manager at Penney’s. Lynn Mandolini was no longer working. Tully didn’t see Mrs Mandolini. Tony said his wife was not well, and the bedroom door stayed shut. Tully did not stay long.

Before she left, Tony put his arm on her shoulder and asked, ‘Who is J. P.?’ showing her the Will Section in the Topeka High School 1979 Yearbook.

When Tully found her voice, she was going to tell him, but the look in his eyes reminded her of the look in George Wilson’s eyes in The Great Gatsby.

So Tully didn’t tell Mr Mandolini who J.P. was, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head instead.

They were silent for a moment, and then Mr Mandolini said, ‘I’m sorry, Tully. This is hard for us. But if you should ever need for anything…’

Tully smiled colorlessly at him.

When she came back to Robin’s house, she packed her milk crates and left him a note: ‘Dear R. I’ve gone back to Topeka to work for Tracy Scott. T.’

Tracy was very pleased to see Tully. She set her up in a tiny little room in the back and offered to pay her a ‘little extra’ if she helped clean up.

A little extra, thought Tully. I don’t think she has a little extra to buy her kid a toy, much less pay me. ‘Not to worry,’ said Tully.

It was a scorching summer. Kansas weather was changeable; it had something in it for everyone. But this summer, whether it poured or shined, whether there were thunderstorms or tornadoes, it was always 105 degrees.

Tracy was rarely home during the day, even though during the day she was supposed to be home. Tracy usually caught a quick breakfast and then went out ‘on errands,’ staying out longer and longer. Her boyfriend Billy the musician was sapping all her energy. Tracy got dolled up in the morning and said she’d be back by lunch but wouldn’t return until six o’clock, when she’d change her clothes while Billy waited in his van. Then she would fly out, kissing Damien good-bye.

Tully frequently took Damien to Blaisdell Pool, where she taught Damien how to swim. After the pool, they would often visit the World Famous Topeka Zoo or ride on the carousel. Every Sunday, Tully went to St Mark’s with Damien. A few times on Sundays, after going to church, Tully, Robin, and Damien would go to Lake Shawnee. Sometimes on Saturdays, Tully would drive to Manhattan with Damien to watch Robin play soccer.

Tully rarely saw Julie.

‘Tully, why don’t you come around no more?’ asked Angela Martinez one afternoon. ‘My daughter misses you,’ Angela added as Julie looked down at her barbecued hot dog.

‘I’m very busy, Mrs Martinez,’ Tully said, patting Damien on the head. ‘It’s not so easy taking care of a little child.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ said Angela. ‘I have five of them.’

‘Mom, I’m not your little child,’ Julie said sullenly.

‘Till the day I die you will be my baby,’ avowed Angela.

When Tully left with Damien that day, she felt as if she would be really happy not seeing Angela or Julie again till the day she died.

In July, Tully became aware of a pattern in Tracy Scott’s trailer that displeased her. Tracy would leave with her man Billy about seven in the evening and not get in until late the following morning.

‘Tracy,’ Tully said one day. ‘I thought our agreement was for five or six nights a week.’

‘Yeah, and?’

‘Well, it’s more like seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. At first you were “running errands” early in the morning, but now you sleep for six hours and are away the other eighteen.’

Tracy Scott was defensive. ‘I’m paying you, right?’ she said rudely. ‘What do you want, a raise?’

‘No, Tracy, I don’t want a fucking raise,’ said Tully. ‘Your little boy misses you. You are never with him. And no, you are not paying me to work around the clock.’

Tracy didn’t get it. ‘He is well taken care of, ain’t he? He’s got clothes and toys and food. And he loves you – ’

‘No,’ Tully interrupted. ‘He likes me. He loves you.’

‘Look, Tully,’ said Tracy intensely. ‘I’m trying to work out my life, you know what I mean? If I work out my life, it’ll be good for me and it’ll be good for Damien. If Billy comes to live with us, it’ll be good for everybody. I mean, where is Damien’s dad? I don’t fucking know. And I don’t give a good goddamn. I don’t want that bastard back. But I do want Billy. What’s the big deal? It ain’t like I don’t come back every day. What’s the big deal, Tully? It ain’t like you got anything else to do.’

Tully sat outside on the trailer steps and watched Damien dig a hole in the ground with his little shovel.

It ain’t like I got anything else to do, thought Tully. Nothing else to do. Nothing at all. Well, she is certainly right. Nothing else to do but look after her kid, her unkempt, ill-behaved kid, who bites his nails and throws things and spits and curses. I’ll look up little Damien in the State Correctional Facility for Youths in about a decade. Why not? I’ll have nothing else to do. Nothing at all. No money, no job, no home. That woman pays me just enough to entertain and feed her boy. I live in a trailer with a child who’s not my own. I keep house in a trailer. My God, what’s happened? What has happened?

In mid-July, Tully and Damien waited all night for Tracy and her man to come home, but they did not come. Not that day, nor the next. Little Damien was cranky and cried a lot. Tully was plenty cranky herself. All of a sudden, things began to feel totally out of control to her. Here it was July, five weeks in the trailer, five weeks of more and more responsibility with a three-year-old, and now Tracy was not even coming home. Tully woke up with the boy and spent all day with the boy and went to sleep with the boy and when she woke up the next day, she was still alone and still with the boy.

Finally Tracy Scott and Billy came back. Tracy hugged her son, apologizing profusely. ‘I’m sorry, honey, I’m sorry, baby, Mama had to go with Billy to Oklahoma, and do you know where Oklahoma is? It’s so far away.’ Tully, who heard this, wondered if Tracy herself knew where Oklahoma was. She doubted it. Tattoo-covered Billy just stood there and smoked.

A week later, Tracy disappeared again, for about four days this time. Little Damien bit his fingernails to blood and started to strike out at Tully. Tully retaliated by snapping at him or ignoring him. They rarely went to the pool or to Manhattan anymore. Tully stopped seeing Julie completely. On Sundays Tully and Damien still went to church.

Mostly Tully just sat in the chair and watched Damien play. They watched the trains go by, not ten yards away, and cars go by on Kansas Avenue. Across the street was the back of Sears Automotive and Carlos O’Kelly’s, a Mexican cafe.

When Tracy came back, she was less apologetic and more defensive. It seemed to Tully that Tracy Scott was almost resentful that she had to come back at all.

‘Listen, Tracy,’ said Tully, not leaving anything to chance. ‘Next time you go away for more than twenty-four hours, maybe you can take Damien with you.’

‘Oh, that’s really great, that’s just great!’ exploded Tracy. ‘And who’s gonna take care of him on the road, huh? Who?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Tully. ‘Let’s see. Maybe, hmm…you?’

‘I already told you,’ Tracy whispered, almost hissed. ‘I’m in bars, clubs. I can’t take care of him.’

‘He is your son, not mine,’ said Tully. ‘You pay me ten bucks a day to be a mother for you and I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it. I want to go back to our old arrangement. You’ve got to find it inside yourself to do the right thing, Tracy.’

‘Oh, yeah? And what the hell would that be?’ said Tracy belligerently.

Tully was tired. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘During the day, I don’t want to watch him anymore.’

‘Then you can’t live here, if you don’t want to watch him anymore,’ said Tracy.

‘That’s fine,’ said Tully. ‘You’ve made it very easy for both of us. I don’t want to work for you anymore.’

Tracy hastily apologized. She said Tully got her all hot and bothered over nothing. ‘Of course you can live here. And just look after him at nights, that’s okay. I’m real sorry.’

Tully reluctantly stayed. For about seven days, she went out at nine in the morning and did not come back until six at night when it was time to watch Damien. For seven days, Tracy Scott took care of Damien while Billy slept in the bedroom, or smoked, or went out without her.

After seven days of watching Damien, Tracy Scott went out to watch her Billy be a musician and did not come back the next day. That’s it, Tully thought. That’s just fucking it! As soon as she comes back, I’m out of here so fast. A day went by, then two, then three. Then four, then five, then six.

After eleven days, Tully began to suspect that perhaps Tracy Scott went so far that she couldn’t find her way back to her trailer and her son. And every day for those eleven days, as Tully sat there in a stupor, waiting for Tracy to come back, she thought, I got nothing else to do. I. Got. Nothing. Else. To. Do. And she looked down at the little boy and thought, there is nothing else I can do. Because what am I going to do with him?

After thirteen days, she remembered how Hedda took in a boarder about ten years ago, to help pay the bills. A seven-year-old boarder. The State of Kansas paid Hedda a sum of money, including extra for his food and clothes, and the seven-year-old boarder lived with them for about eight months. After eight months, the child’s parents claimed back Hedda’s boarder, and Hedda, helped out by the arrival of Aunt Lena and Uncle Charlie, refused any more boarders from the state.

The State of Kansas foster home program. Tully remembered it existed, just in time.

She left Damien with Angela Martinez for a few hours one afternoon and drove over to Docking building, across from the Capitol, going up to the fourth floor, to Social and Rehab Services. The receptionist pointed her in the direction of the door that said FOSTER HOME RECRUITMENT AGENCY and told her to speak to Lillian White.

Tully related Damien’s story to Lillian White, who sat behind her big table with her big hands folded and said, ‘What would you like me to do about it? Bring his mother back?’

‘No,’ said Tully, disturbed by the response. ‘I would like for you to find him a suitable home.’

‘Miss, this is Foster Home Recruitment and Licensing. We do not find them suitable homes. We find them homes. If you would like suitable homes, you should speak to a private adoption agency. Besides,’ added Lillian, ‘his mother will almost certainly come back. They nearly always do, and always want their kids.’

Tully was aghast. ‘But he has no one to take care of him while he waits for his mother!’

‘Ah, but that’s not true,’ said Lillian White. ‘He has you.’

‘Me? I’m eighteen. I’m even less suitable than she is, if that’s possible. Besides, I am not available,’ Tully said, helplessly forced by this unfriendly, overweight woman to make some kind of a decision on her life. ‘I start Washburn this month.’

Lillian lifted her eyebrows. ‘You do? What are you studying?’

‘Child development,’ Tully said, suddenly remembering something from her life before March 26.

Lillian stared at Tully intently. ‘And you’re going to Washburn?’

‘Yes,’ said Tully, calmer. ‘I applied to Stanford, in California, but I didn’t get in. So I’m going to Washburn. Eighteen credits. Also I found myself a job,’ rattled Tully. ‘Carlos O’Kelly’s. It’s a Mexican –’

‘I know what Carlos O’Kelly’s is,’ Lillian cut her off. ‘And I know where Stanford is. Well, let’s see what we can do for him. Can you keep him with you until we find an available family?’

Tully nodded. ‘How long do you give the parents to come back before you put the children up to be adopted?’

‘Eighteen years,’ replied Lillian, and when Tully got up to leave, she strongly suspected that Lillian wasn’t joking.

Oh, man, she thought when she walked outside. Yuk. And they have her running the Foster Program?

Telling Lillian White about Washburn made it somehow real for Tully. She told that woman it was happening and now had to follow through.

It took Tully less than an hour to go to Morgan Hall – the Washburn Admissions Office – get an application, fill it out, drive to Topeka High, get a copy of her transcript, go to the trailer, find her SAT and ACT scores, and drive back to Washburn. Afterward, she went to Carlos O’Kelly’s, lied about her waitressing experience, and got a job. Four days later Tully was accepted for the fall semester – with a late registration fee. It took Tully about two minutes to dig out the cash she had stashed away, and another two minutes to pick out her courses from the catalog – all general education requirements. A little English Comp, a little Religion, a little Communication. ‘Have you thought about your major?’ she was asked by the Registrar’s secretary. ‘Child Development,’ she said dully. It really didn’t matter. She could have said Home Ec.

The State of Kansas quickly found Damien a place: the Baxters on Indian Hills Road. Bill and Rose Baxter were a couple in their fifties, and their two children had married and left. The Baxters said they wanted to make another child happy before the grandchildren came. But there was something about them that bugged Tully. Their house was too small to have housed four human beings, Tully thought. And there were no pictures. No pictures of chubby kids running around the yard or playing in the kiddie pool. Nothing.

‘Damien,’ Tully said to the boy that night. ‘Until your mommy comes back, you’re going to go and live with Aunt Rose and Uncle Bill, okay?’

Damien frowned. ‘Where is my mommy?’

Tully felt grateful that he was only three.

The next morning she drove Damien to Indian Hills Road, with his clothes and books and trucks, and tried to tell the Baxters what he needed and liked, but she was received with near indifference. How much are they getting paid to take care of Damien? Tully wondered achingly as she hugged him, telling him she was going to come by and visit him real soon. While driving away and waving to him Tully – in the sideview mirror – saw her own face. It looked as small and pinched as Damien’s.