Voyage of the Defiance by S. E. Smith
“It’s his fault for having so many kids,” Debbie pointed out.
“We’ve got to go,” Tisha mumbled into the phone after she turned the speaker function off.
“You’d better before Debbie and Audrey get into a knockdown, drag out fight again,” Makayla said with another sigh. “Thanks for calling.”
“Just remember, if you need me, I’m here for you, girlfriend,” Tisha said as a bell echoed in the background followed by the afternoon announcements. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Makayla whispered before the line went dead.
She laid her head back against the door again and closed her eyes. For a moment, she was tempted to just curl up on the floor and go to sleep. At least in sleep, she could escape the world for a little while.
A shiver ran through her when the air conditioner kicked on, reminding her that she was still soaking wet from the rain. Pushing up off the floor, she quickly stripped out of her damp clothes and pulled on a soft, gray T-shirt and fresh jeans. Grabbing her black hoodie from the end of her bed, she pulled it on before crawling onto the bed and closing her eyes. Perhaps she would escape, for just a little while.
*.*.*
Makayla woke several hours later. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. A frown crossed her face when she heard the muted sound of knocking. She grimaced as she looked at the time. It was almost five.
Rolling, she slid off the bed and crossed to her bedroom door. Unlocking it, she released a low moan when the knock sounded again, this time louder. It had better not be Rob, she thought. If it was, she wasn’t letting him in.
“Who is it?” She yelled in aggravation, pushing her tangled hair away from her face.
“Social Services,” a woman’s voice replied. “Please open the door.”
“Not likely,” Makayla muttered under her breath, even as she stepped up to the door to look through the peep hole. A groan escaped her when she saw a woman in her thirties standing on the other side. Keeping the chain on, she fumbled with the locks before opening the door just a crack. “What do you want?” She asked in a blunt tone.
“Makayla, my name is Sylvia Craig. I’m with the Department of Children and Families,” the woman said with a smile. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
Makayla scowled at the woman. “What about?” She asked, leaning against the door and looking at the woman with suspicion.
“Open the door, Makayla,” a rough male voice said.
Makayla’s gaze shifted to the old man from the hospital before quickly turning away. His brown eyes were way too familiar, she thought. It was almost like looking into her mom’s. She released a sigh and shut the door to pull off the chain. Opening the door again, she stood back and waved her hand to the two people standing on the narrow corridor outside the apartment.
She followed them with her eyes as they entered the apartment. She knew they were assessing the condition of the apartment and making a judgement. A feeling of defensiveness overcame her. There were empty beer and prescription bottles on the coffee table and a pair of dirty socks sticking out from under it.
The dinette table was littered with unopened mail, and the dirty dishes from yesterday were still on the kitchen counter and in the sink. She hoped they didn’t ask to look in the refrigerator. The only thing in there was probably a couple of cases of beer. She either ate at school or grabbed something out. The only food was some peanut butter, week old bread, and boxes of macaroni and cheese.
Brushing past her unwanted visitors, she removed some laundry from the couch and tossed them onto the coffee table in an effort to cover the stuff on the coffee table. She grimaced when one of the orange prescription bottles fell to the floor. Raising her chin, she crossed her arms and glared at them as they were looking around the cramped apartment.
“Okay, talk,” she said.
Sylvia Craig turned and nodded. “As I said, I’m with the DCF. There is some concern for your welfare and safety,” she explained.
“I’m fine as you can see,” Makayla interrupted, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Sylvia’s eyes swept over her cheek, reminding Makayla of this morning at the hospital when Rob hit her. She hadn’t looked in the mirror, so she didn’t know if it was bruised or not. Tilting her head, she reached up and untucked the hair, running her hand through it to cover her cheek again.
“Makayla,” Sylvia said in a gentle voice. “The incident this morning at the hospital was reported and I’m required to investigate. Can you tell me what happened?”
Makayla shook her head. “Nothing happened,” she said stubbornly.
“Who was the man in the room with you and your mother?” Sylvia asked instead.
Makayla pressed her lips together in a firm line. It wouldn’t matter what she said. Deep down, she already knew that the woman knew exactly what happened. She just wanted Makayla to jump through the hoops and hang herself and her mom. The best thing would be to just keep her mouth shut and hope that they left her alone.
“Makayla…,” Sylvia said again, trying to prompt her to say something.
Makayla glanced at her grandfather. Henry… Her mom hadn’t spoken his name in years, but Makayla remembered him – barely. Memories of him taking her out on his sailboat, showing her how to fish, and teaching her how to swim rushed through her mind.
Resentment also rose inside her. All she could remember was her mom yelling at him as she pulled her by her arm before picking her up and putting her in the back seat of the old red car that she drove. Makayla remembered crying as her mom pulled away from the old house on the river. She had turned to look out the rear window from the back seat of the car as her mom drove down the narrow lane. He had stood in the driveway watching them leave.
“How is my mom?” Makayla asked quietly, staring into Henry Summerlin’s eyes.
She saw a glimmer of sadness come into his eyes, but he didn’t look away. He looked older than she remembered. His dark brown hair had thinned to the point of baldness. He had gained a little more weight, too, then she remembered. His face was worn, as if he spent a lot of time outside.
“She isn’t doing too good,” Henry replied. “She needs help, Makayla. More help than you can give her.”
Makayla’s eyes burned with tears. She bit her lip and turned away. Her eyes darted to the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. They mocked her, showing just how pitiful her attempts to keep the family together were. It wasn’t right that a child should be the one to have to make it work. She shouldn’t have to worry about anything but whether she was going to pass her next class or if the boy she liked was interested in her.
Reaching out, she grabbed the bottles up in both her hands and turned. Brushing past Sylvia Craig, she walked into the kitchen and tossed them into the trash can. Picking up the can, she returned to the living room and continued to clean up.
She no longer cared if they saw all the drugs she tried to hide. Scooping up the clothes, she threw them on the chair before sweeping her hand over the mess of half empty pill containers and empty bottles, dumping them all into the trash.
A low sob caught in her throat when several fell to the floor. She angrily reached for them and deposited them in the can along with the others. Stepping around the edge of the couch, she continued back to her mom and Rob’s bedroom. A hoarse cry escaped her when she found it locked. She stepped back and raised her leg, kicking it several times until the hinge holding the lock on the frame ripped free of the wood.
“Makayla,” Sylvia started to say in concern before her voice faded.
“Let me handle this,” Henry said, laying his hand on the social worker’s arm.
Makayla was oblivious to everything but her mission. Her eyes swept around the cluttered room. The bed was unmade and some of the dresser drawers were hanging open. Walking over to the nightstand, she quickly picked up the bags of drugs and tossed them into the garbage can.
She pulled the nightstand drawer open and glanced insi
“It won’t stop her, you know,” Henry said quietly. “I tried doing the same thing years ago.”
Makayla stiffened, but she still moved to the long dresser and systematically began going through each drawer. In the cracked mirror, she could see her distorted face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glittered with unshed tears, but there was also a look in them that made her feel like someone else possessed her body.
“I won’t let her,” she said in a stubborn voice. “I’ll stop her. Every time she brings more home, I’ll throw them out until she gives up.”
“She needs help, Makayla,” Henry repeated with a shake of his head. “And so do you.”
Makayla dropped the trash can and turned to glare at her grandfather. His face was a mask. Gone was the sadness she had seen earlier. Instead, there was a sense of determination in his eyes.
“I don’t need anyone!” Makayla snapped. “Go back where you came from, old man. We’ve done just fine without you. We’ll get through this, just like we have before.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, Makayla,” Sylvia said from the doorway. “I’ve already notified the police about the drugs. Witnesses at the hospital state that your mother’s boyfriend struck you and brought illegal prescription medication into the hospital with the intent to distribute it. Your mother’s boyfriend was arrested, but he will probably be freed on bail. He will more than likely return here.”
“So,” Makayla retorted with a toss of her head. “I’ll lock him out.”
“And he’ll kick the door in, just like you did,” Henry stated.
Makayla shrugged. “I’ll call the police,” she said in defiance.
Henry and Sylvia both shook their heads. “By the time they got here, who knows what he would have done to you,” Henry said.
“I’ve seen cases like this before,” Sylvia stated. “You aren’t alone. There are services available to help you.”
“My mom…,” Makayla started to argue before she pressed her lips together at the closed look on both of the faces in front of her.
“Your mom is going to be arrested for illegal possession of prescription drugs,” Henry told her in a low voice. “She’ll be in the hospital for a little while. She’s agreed to go into rehab.”
“Rehab!” Makayla whispered in shock, blinking several times as the information sunk in. “Where? When? How long will she be there?”
“As long as they feel she needs it,” Sylvia said, stepping closer to Makayla. “She has been sent for a mental evaluation due to threats to do harm to herself. This is a chance for her to get the help she needs, Makayla. There is only one thing, though.”
Makayla’s gaze swept back and forth between her grandfather and the social worker. Her stomach twisted. There was so much going on and she needed time to think about it, to deal with it. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.
This might be the only chance, she thought. Maybe the rehab place can help her.
But, what about me? The other voice in her head whispered. How will I survive? I don’t have any money. I can’t stay here. I can’t pay the rent and Rob…. Her mind shied away from the thought of facing him alone again.
The feeling of suffocation was threatening to overwhelm her, causing her legs to feel shaky. To keep from falling, she sank down onto the end of the bed. How did her life get this screwed up? She wondered.
Her eyes slowly rose to lock with Sylvia’s. “You said there is one thing,” she whispered. “What is it?”
“After you left, I think she finally realized what she had done,” Sylvia said. “She needs to know that you are taken care of and safe.”
Makayla looked around the messy room before turning back to stare at Sylvia. The familiar feel of anger rose up again, but she pushed it away. It was too late for her mom to worry about her now. She had been taking care of herself for the past three years, if not longer.
“I’ll see if I can stay with one of my friends,” she whispered, raising her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear again.
She didn’t miss Sylvia’s look at her cheek. Glancing at her reflection, she grimaced when she saw the light bruise on her cheekbone and around her left eye. She was going to have a shiner.
So much for trying to cover up what happened earlier, she thought with a disgruntled sigh.
“I’m afraid that won’t work,” Sylvia stated. “You have a choice. I can try to place you with a foster family or….”
Sylvia’s voice had faded when Makayla stood up. Makayla could feel her head moving back and forth in denial. She had heard about some of the ‘places’ that DCF had placed kids before. There was no way in hell that she would ever go to one of them. She’d run away first.
“Or what?!” Makayla demanded, glancing back and forth.
“Or, you can come stay with me,” Henry interjected.
Chapter 5
Makayla moodily stared out of the truck window. It had taken a while before she finally realized that she didn’t have much choice in the matter. She could either go to a foster home or some other facility, or go with a grandfather she barely remembered.
It hadn’t taken her long to pack her meager belongings in a trash bag and her backpack. She had left her school books with Sylvia Craig, who promised to drop them off for her on Monday.
Watching the cars passing by them as they drove through an intersection, a small, cynical smile appeared on Makayla’s lips. One of the things she’d done before leaving was to take the trash out… all of it. She had taken every bottle of beer, every ounce of drugs she could find, including the bag of weed hidden behind the nightstand drawer, every piece of Rob’s belongings, and dumped them in the dumpster behind the building. If he wanted them, he was going to have to go hunting for them.
She glanced down at the phone in her hand when it vibrated. After reading the message, she released a small sigh.
Miss you, the text from Tisha read. Here if you need us.
She quickly punched in a response. K. Thks.
“You hungry?” Henry asked, glancing at her.
“Not really,” she replied, staring out the window.
He didn’t respond to her statement. Another sigh escaped her. One thing she had discovered this afternoon was that her grandfather wasn’t a talkative man. In a way, she was thankful for that because she didn’t have a lot to say to him. The traffic was pretty heavy at first, but soon they were passing through fewer and fewer towns on State Road 60. The sound of the rain and the rhythm of the tires on the road soon lured her into a light sleep.
It was dark when Makayla woke as the truck slowed down. She sat up and blinked sleepily as they turned into the parking lot of a strip mall. A minute later, her grandfather parked in front of a fast food restaurant and shut off the engine.
“I’ve got to go to the bathroom and thought we’d grab a bite to eat,” he muttered, undoing his seat belt.
Makayla nodded and looked around. “Where are we?” She asked in a husky voice.
“Bartow,” Henry replied, opening the door. “We’ll be home in about an hour.”
Makayla grimaced. “Yeah, home,” she muttered, as she undid her seat belt and opened the door.
Sliding out of the truck, she ducked her head as a light sprinkle continued to fall. The weather was at least in sync with her mood, dark and depressing. Glancing back and forth to make sure there were no cars, she jogged over to where her grandfather stood holding the door.
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she stepped inside.
She followed him down the short corridor and slipped into the Ladies Room. She quickly used the bathroom and washed her hands. Leaning forward, she took an extra minute to study the bruise on her cheek and eye in the mirror above the small sink. It looked like she had gotten into a fight with her makeup. W
She walked up to the counter where her grandfather stood waiting. Glancing at the menu, she realized that she was starving. It took a second for her to remember that she hadn’t eaten since the day before.
“I’ll take a number one, super-sized,” she muttered as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. “With a chocolate frosty.”
Henry didn’t say anything, just nodded. Makayla looked around the restaurant, noticing only a handful of people seated at the tables. Glancing at her phone, she was surprised to see it was almost nine o’clock.
“I’ll get the napkins and stuff,” she said, turning away.
She walked over to the condiment counter and grabbed some napkins, forks, and ketchup before weaving her way through the tables to one near the windows. Setting everything down, she slid into one of the chairs and watched Henry as he picked up their order.
She studied him as he walked toward her, balancing the tray. Pushing the items she had set down to one side, she waited for him to sit before she reached for the large fries. They ate in silence, each focused on their own thoughts. Makayla’s eyes followed the woman and little girl from the bathroom as they sat down at one of the booths.
“What was mom like when she was younger?” She asked in a soft voice.
Henry paused as he lifted the spoon to his mouth. His gaze flickered to where Makayla was looking before he took a bite of the chili he had ordered. He slowly chewed it and swallowed before he answered her.
“Headstrong,” he grunted, finally. “Full of curiosity, always into everything, and smart. Too smart for her own good sometimes.”
Makayla’s lips twisted into a bitter smile as she played with her french fries. She turned to study Henry again. He was different than she remembered – harder than he had been before.