Amy lynn, p.11
Amy Lynn, page 11
Leon was unsure but he nodded his head yes.
Days turned into weeks and Amy’s physical wounds healed. The only sign that anything had happened was the end of a scar that went a half-inch below her hairline. Jack and Carla Jo made sure she was never alone. She didn’t eat much and she didn’t speak much. Her days were spent on the front porch reading. Occasionally she would set the book down and stare up the hill, trying to figure out why. Reliving every moment she could recall. Blissfully she had faded in and out of consciousness during the attack. She played with Bubba, but that was the extent of her exercise. Leon and Joseph wanted her home, but she wouldn’t go and they didn’t push it.
Amy finished the last page and closed the cover on Wuthering Heights. Bubba was lying on the porch swing with her, his head in her lap. She hugged him and said, “Bubba, I think it’s time to talk.” Slowly, she walked into the garage and could see Jack’s legs sticking out from under the car. Jack heard the stool by the bench squeak as Amy sat down.
“That you, Amy?”
“Yes, sir, I think I want to talk.”
Jack knew this was coming and somehow he knew it would be him. Maybe it was their time in the barn caring for the animals after Kerry died. Maybe it was because he was wounded, too. Whatever the reason, he had thought about what he would say and how he would say it. He was honored to have the opportunity while at the same time fearing it. What if he screwed up? What if he made things worse? How would he live with that? He loved the little girl like she was his daughter.
“Uncle Jack, how did you deal with what happened to you in the war?”
Jack nodded his head and thought here goes.
“Oh honey, that’s a big question. I can tell you it takes time and I can tell you I’m a better man because of it. Because of my wounds I have Carla Jo. I have a greater love and respect for people and for life. I didn’t always feel this way but I had people around me like your momma and daddy, your granddaddy, Kerry, Carla Jo, and you. I have people that love me. When you see the love in their eyes it makes you want to be a better person.”
“What about the people that did that to you, are you angry? Do you think about ’em? Dream about ’em?”
“Well, that’s where what happened to you and what happened to me is different. I was in a war. It wasn’t personal, just two soldiers doing their job. Hell, if I met the guy that did this to me I would probably take him to the VFW and buy him a drink. If I was angry with anyone, I was angry at myself. I made a mistake. I put myself in that position. No, I don’t think about them at all.”
Amy was almost pleading when she asked, “Why did they do that to me? Why? I was good to them boys. I talked to them when no one else did. I took them food. I, I … just, why?”
And there was the tough question. It was the question with no good answer. Jack looked at the ground and then slowly lifted his head, looked her in the eye, and enunciated the two syllables, “E-vil, just pure e-vil. You saw it, you experienced it, and you survived it when some people don’t. Amy, evil wants what it wants. It can’t be bargained with or reasoned with. It is the scariest thing on earth. Those boys were infected with evil. That’s why they did what they did.”
Amy sat a minute and thought about what Jack had said. Then she blurted out quickly. “I’m afraid to go back up on that hill.”
Jack leaned back with a half smile on his face and said, “Well hell, I would be too. There would be somethin’ wrong with you if you weren’t. Honey, we all know that. Your dad, your brother, Granny Patches and Carla Jo. We all get it and we all understand. The question is, what are you gonna to do about it?”
“I don’t know. I have never been this afraid of anything before. I just don’t know what to do. What would you do?”
“We are not talkin’ about me, we are talkin’ about you. This is personal. We each find our own way. The way I see it, you have a few choices. You can hide from evil, change your life, and allow your fear to decide your future. You can try to forget it and pretend it never happened—that’s what most people do, but in the end it eats them up inside. Or you can confront it and prepare to deal with it the next time it shows up. I can help you with that. As horrible as what happened to you was, you were left with a gift. You see, now you know what it is. You can see the evil. You can feel it. It can’t sneak up on you again.”
“Yeah, I suppose. But Uncle Jack, what would you do?”
Jack looked at her with a straight face. “I’d unscrew the top on a whiskey jar and hide in a hole ‘til I died.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You would stand at the bottom of that hill and scream ‘EVIL, HERE I COME!’ Then you would march up there and …” Amy stopped talking.
“Are you talking about what you think I would do? Or maybe you are talking about what you know you need to do.”
Just then Carla Jo’s car pulled into the driveway. Amy got up, walked over to her uncle Jack, gave him a hug and a kiss, “Thank you, Uncle Jack.”
“Anytime honey.”
Amy got up early the next day. It was Saturday morning. She packed her suitcase and carried it to the front door. Jack and Carla Jo were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee.
Amy walked into the kitchen. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”
Jack and Carla Jo got up from the kitchen table and hugged Amy.
Carla Jo put her hand on Amy’s cheek. “I got used to having you around. I’m going to miss you. Do you want a ride home?”
“Nope, I’m gonna walk.”
“That suitcase is pretty heavy, why don’t you let me take it to ya’ later. I’m going up to visit your daddy, anyway.”
“Okay, thanks, Uncle Jack. Thank you again. Thank you for everything. I love you both very much.” Amy’s eyes were getting misty.
Amy turned and walked down the steps. As she walked away she heard a whimper and a whine. It was Bubba. Amy walked back to the porch and hugged him and kissed him on the head.
“Yeah, I love you too, ya’ ole dog.” Then she turned and walked away.
Jack looked at Carla Jo. “What do you think? Is she alright now?”
Carla Jo’s voice was wilting with sadness. “Its not that easy Jack, it’s just not that easy.”
Chapter 19
Amy started down Indian River Road. She looked up the hill where she had come down four weeks earlier and thought about taking that path, but she was wearing shorts. She didn’t forget about the briars and brambles. She reached String Hill Road and started up the hill. She always loved that road, the way the treetops came together and formed a tunnel. Today, however, it looked a little darker and kind of eerie, but still she kept going. About halfway to the top her thigh muscles began to burn. I’m really out of shape, she thought. It was warm out and she started to sweat. She reached the top and started around the bend, thinking that she should be able to see the rusted mailbox by now, but it was gone.
Amy arrived at the Hatfield’s driveway. At first she couldn’t bring herself to look. She stared at the ground as she walked off the road and up the driveway, but then she stopped and looked up. It was gone, all of it. The trailer, the barn, the old cars, and the junk were all gone. A flat, empty lot was all that remained. She walked to where the barn had been and looked out toward Uncle Jack’s. It was a beautiful view.
“HERE I AM!” she yelled. “CAN YOU HEAR ME? HERE I AM! YOU TRIED TO KILL ME! YOU FAILED! MY NAME IS AMY LYNN BRAXTON AND I WILL BE READY FOR YOU NEXT TIME. NEVER AGAIN!” Amy turned on her heels and with her head up and shoulders back, she walked off the property.
Walking down the road Amy felt free—at least, she felt more free than she had in a long time. She walked to the front door and could smell bacon cooking.
“I’m home!” She hollered as she walked into the living room. ”Who’s cooking in my kit …” She stopped. It was Miss Francis.
“Hi Amy, are you home now? For good?”
“Is that a problem?”
Miss Francis wiped her hands with a towel and went to hug her. “No, oh no.”
Amy put her hand up in front of her and stepped back. “Where are Daddy and Joseph?”
Miss Francis smiled. “They are at the barn getting the boat ready. We were going to the river. You can come with us.”
Amy sounded agitated. “You mean you can come with us, right Miss Francis? That is what you mean, right? This is my house. You understand this is my house?”
“Of course dear, this will always be your house.”
“Where is your car?”
“It’s at my house. I stayed here last night.”
“You did what? Where did you sleep?”
Miss Francis started to get nervous. “I’m not too comfortable talking to you about this.”
Just then the back door opened and Amy’s daddy walked in.
“Amy, you’re home.” He walked over and hugged her. “We missed you so much.”
Amy was terse when she replied. “You saw me yesterday.”
“I mean here. Seeing you in the mornin’, having dinner with us … the house is not the same without you.”
Amy motioned toward Miss Francis. “Why is she here?”
Leon looked at Miss Francis and began to notice the unease.
“Well, Amy, she’s my girlfriend, we have been dating for a while now. Actually, we had been discussin’ the idea of getting married. I wanted to wait ‘til you came home to talk to you about it.”
“You’re not married yet. She said she spent the night here. Is that true, daddy? Did she sleep in my momma’s bed in front of Joseph? Is that what happened, daddy? Is that true? IS THAT TRUE?” Amy’s voice rose an octave as she grew more animated. Her big green eyes began to flash and her daddy knew her well enough to know what that meant.
Leon took a deep breath and tried to calm her down “Amy, you need to relax so we can discuss this like….”
Amy interrupted “Discuss? Discuss what? Discuss the fact that you have replaced me with a WHORE?”
Miss Francis gasped and Leon yelled, “AMY!”
Then Amy lost it and started screaming, “YES, WHORE! WHORE, I SAID WHORE. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, WHORE. GET OUT OR I WILL THROW YOU OUT. GET OUT, GET OUT!”
Amy tried to attack Miss Francis, but Leon was able to grab her and put her in a bear hug. Amy fought and kept screaming, “WHORE, WHORE!”
“Carol, take my keys and go home, I’ll call you later,” Leon was struggling to hold Amy. Miss Francis ran out the door as Joseph was coming in.
“Amy?” Joseph looked at his daddy trying to hold Amy. “What’s going on?”
“Joe, go unhook the boat from the truck for Miss Francis, but first call Carla Jo. Tell her to get up here, NOW!”
Carla Jo and Jack were lying in bed. A fresh, glistening layer of sweat covered their bodies. Carla Jo had felt funny about fooling around while Amy was in the next room, so Jack had decided to make up for lost time. Then the phone rang.
Jack grabbed her arm. “Don’t answer that.”
“I have to, I’m on call for Doc Henderson. Let me up,” she giggled, slapping his hands. “Hello? Okay, be right there.”
“What going on?”
“It’s Amy.”
“Is she okay?”
Carla Jo threw on her clothes, grabbed the black bag from the top of the closet, and quoted a line from one of her favorite movies. “She’s pretty fucking far from okay.”
She grabbed her keys and raced out the door.
Carla Jo drove up the hill and saw Carol going the other way in Leon’s truck. She pulled up in front of the house to find Amy having a full-blown meltdown in the front yard. Leon was just standing there, helpless, unable to calm her down. She opened the black bag and pulled out a hypodermic needle and a bottle of Pentobarbital. She loaded the syringe and got out of the car.
“Honey, it’s okay, I’m here.” Carla Jo whispered as she slowly approached Amy. She put her arm around her and with the other one injected her in the rear. Amy barley felt it. Within a few minutes Amy began to relax and then she sat on the ground. Carla Jo motioned to Leon to pick her up and put her to bed.
“Leon, we need to talk.” Carla Jo turned and hollered hollered for Joseph.
“YES, MA’AM.” Joseph yelled back as he came running through the yard.
“Keep an eye on your sister, we’ll be back.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s take a walk Leon,” said Carla Jo as she started across the yard toward the road.
“Where we goin’?” Leon asked, even though he already knew.
“For a walk.”
It was a hot day. They could feel the heat coming off the asphalt and see the shimmer on the road. They turned up the Hatfield’s driveway and stopped in the middle of the lot. Carla Jo looked down at the soft dirt. “Looks like a girl’s tennis shoe prints.” Then she turned to look at Leon. She knew what she wanted to say and she wanted to say it gently. In six words Leon threw the gentle thing out the window.
“What the hell’s wrong with her?”
Carla Jo’s mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. Her lips shaped the words but nothing came out. “W … W … W … What the hell is wrong with her?” She spoke under her breath. “No shit, Leon? Really? Okay, you want to know? Then goddammit, I’ll tell you.”
Leon’s feet shifted nervously. In all the years he had known her, he couldn’t recall ever hearing Carla Jo swear.
Carla Jo calmed down a little and began to speak. “She was dead when the helicopter landed. She went into cardiac arrest during the flight. How they got her back I have no idea. When you came into the waiting room I almost told you she was gone. She’s so tough Leon, so tough. Still, she is so much a teenage girl. See these footprints? They’re Amy’s. What kind of balls do you think it took to walk back up the hill by herself and come here? You and Jack scrubbed the hill clean of the vermin; nice touch. You think that’s it? You think it’s over?”
“Carla Jo, I …,” Leon began, but Carla Jo interrupted.
“I’m not finished Leon, you asked a question. What the hell’s wrong with her? I don’t know Leon, let me think. Could it have something to do with her head being split open by a big rock? Maybe it was the piece of pipe they shoved in her vagina or the nipple that had to be sewn back on after one of those animals bit it most of the way off. Or could it be …,” Carla Jo stopped as Leon interrupted. “Okay, that’s enough, I don’t want to hear anymore.”
Something inside Carla Jo snapped. She suddenly went wild and started screaming, “You don’t want to hear anymore? YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE? THAT’S ENOUGH? REALLY, LEON? SHE WENT THROUGH IT, LEON! IT PLAYS IN HER MIND LIKE A MOVIE, OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT? WHAT THE HELL’S WRONG WITH HER, LEON? TELL ME LEON, WHAT THE HELL’S WRONG WITH HER? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! WHAT DO I DO? MY GOD, CARLA JO, SHE WENT CRAZY! SHE ATTACKED CAROL,” Leon screamed back.
They both stopped talking and gathered their composure. After a few minutes Carla Jo asked, “What was she doing?”
“Who?”
“Carol, what was she doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“When Amy came in the house, what was she doing?”
“Oh, cooking breakfast.”
Carla Jo chuckled under her breath. “You got a lot to learn about women.”
“What?”
“Women are territorial, just like a big buck in a herd. That’s Amy’s house, Amy’s kitchen and that’s Amy’s job. You and Joseph belong to Amy. When she walked in that house, she saw herself being replaced.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what she said, that we were replacing her.”
“Under the best of circumstances, bringing Carol into that house would be difficult. Right now? I wouldn’t do it, Leon. I’d cool things with Carol, at least until Amy gets better.”
“I understand what you’re sayin,” Leon sighed. “I still don’t know what to do for her. How do I help her?”
“Be there, Leon, just be there. Give her safety and security. Keep things as normal as you can. Right now every emotion she has is amplified and they’re all sitting on the surface. Tell Joseph not to change, to treat her like he always has. Jack and I are going to help you, if it’s all right. We have a plan. Jack has been through some major trauma. He knows what it takes to heal. You’re not alone Leon, we will help you.”
They started walking toward the road. Leon turned to Carla Jo. “I really love Carol. I haven’t loved anyone like this since Katherine. If I lose her over this, so be it, but I sure don’t want to. Women like her are hard to find.”
Carla Jo put her arm around Leon’s shoulder and said, “Women like her are a hell of a lot easier to find then men like you. She’ll wait for you, Leon. She’ll wait as long as it takes.”
Joseph stayed with Amy as Carla Jo took Leon to Carol’s to pick up his truck. As Carla Jo pulled into Carol’s driveway, Leon grabbed the door handle and stopped. He turned to Carla Jo and said, “Thank you. I don’t know how we would get through this without your help.”
“You might be her daddy, but she belongs to all of us. She’ll be okay. It’ll take time, but she’ll be okay.”
“After all she has been through, how can you be so sure?”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
The Story of Carla Jo
Penelope Fairchild Herbst was the only daughter of one of the richest men in America, Carlton Herbst. Although her wealth and privilege gave her beyond a fairytale life, she spent most of her time holding it in contempt and trying to escape it. Her hero was Clara Barton, a nurse and founder of the American Red Cross. So she also became a nurse. She spent much of her time volunteering in orphanages and visiting skid rows throughout San Francisco. She gave away as much of her father’s money as he would allow buying food, blankets, and medicine. She always did it anonymously, never in her own name.
When the Korean War broke out in 1950 she saw a steady stream of wounded returning from the war. She made her father furious by doing what Clara Barton would have done. She enlisted. She worked at the hospital in Seoul. She wanted to go to a mobile army surgical hospital (MASH unit), but her father, who helped to finance the President’s campaign, wasn’t about to let her get that close to the front. A few months into her tour of duty she was making her rounds when she saw a gurney being pushed by an orderly. Under the sheet was a small body, a little boy no more that two years of age. He had Korean features with red hair. He looked malnourished and he was covered in bruises, sure signs of abuse. She found out that he had come from an Amerasian orphanage. She would find that orphanage.
