Page 37 of Beautifully Scarred

“James, right. You know what he was like. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get out of there, and I had nothing. Nothing to provide for you with. I had no idea where I was going or how I’d survive. I just knew that if I didn’t leave, I was going to end up dead.”

Standing from the couch, I pace. Whether she’s right or not, you don’t leave your child alone with someone like that.

When I don’t respond, she continues, “You only had a few years left before you were an adult, and you were getting bigger every day. I knew that soon your dad wouldn’t be able to push you around anymore.”

Pain settles into my palm and I stop pacing, looking down to see that I’d been clutching my hand so hard, my fingernails had dug into my skin.

“None of this shit matters anyway. As nice as this stroll down memory lane has been, you must’ve called for a reason. What is it?” I resume my pacing through the small trailer.

She releases a long-suffering sigh. “I need money.”

Any chance of reestablishing a relationship with my mom dies with those three words.

“Get a job,” I bite out.

“I had one, but I got laid off. Things have been hard lately.”

“Sorry to hear that. My life was hard after you abandoned me.”

“Jim—James, I’m sorry for the past, but I can’t change it. I really am proud of you, you know. I had no idea my boy was a big movie star until I saw a poster at the mall last year and you were on it. It took me a few minutes before I really believed it was you. I hadn’t seen you in so long, but your eyes haven’t changed, and your hair still curls at the end if you let it grow too long. When you were a baby, I’d—”

“I’m not doing this with you, Darla.”

She sucks in a big breath when I use her name.

“You’re right about the fact that we can’t change the past and what’s done is done. I’ve moved on with my life and you’re not a part of it. Go find some other schmuck to give you money, because it’s not going to be me.”

She’s quiet for so long that I think she hung up.

“You know, I didn’t stay away from the mountain… I went back about five years ago…” She lets her words hang in the air.

“Glutton for punishment?”

“Nah. I caught wind that your father had died, so I went back when I was traveling through Virginia. I don’t know why. There were some good times too.”

Her words knock the wind out of me.

My dad is dead?

It’s not as though I care about the son of a bitch. I’ve tried really hard not to think of him since I left. But I always assumed he was still out there, just as miserable as ever. I’m not sure how to feel now that I know he’s dead.

“I take it you didn’t know your daddy was dead?” Darla asks.

“No, I… I didn’t keep tabs on him after I left.” I sink into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table.

“Well, he’s dead. Didn’t leave much behind. The old place was still standing when I got there, but just barely.”

“How did he…?” I don’t know why, but I need to know what finally took out the prick.

“Not really sure. Ol’ Willy found him. Went by to get him so they could check the stills out in the forest. It was moonshine season. Found him sitting in his chair, dead as stump. You know how it is up there. They don’t call the cops or anything, just bury you on your property and put a marker on it.”

I do know how it is. It’s as backwoods as you can get. People on that mountainside don’t typically report births or deaths, file taxes, or do anything else that involves the government. Hell, Lilah and I had been lucky to go to school in the first place. My mom’s the one to thank for that. She pushed for it because she knew it had been important to Lilah’s mom. They’d been best friends before she died in childbirth.

“I guess he’s running around hell now then.”

“I suppose he is,” she says. “But that wasn’t my point. You should know, the people there still keep to themselves, but they talk. Heard all about you in high school. Heard a lot about Lilah and her dad too.”

My lungs contract and all the air leaves them in a rush.

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