Falling From Grace

Chapter 1

1

Catalina, Arizona, 1995

M ama said a lot of things can kill you in the desert. That She’s been the death of many long before me and will continue to be so after I’m gone. It takes a certain kind of person to see past Her grittiness and find the beauty in Her violence. From a young age, even my mama knew that I was one of those people. That Her simplicity spoke to something in me. Something I couldn’t ever see. Only feel. And though my love ran deep, it didn’t make Her any less relentless.

The morning sun blasted through the passenger side window, searing my right arm and bare legs. And though it burned, it didn’t stop me from resting my cheek on the sill to watch the small dust devils swirling across the dirt like rattlesnakes on the hunt. They never lasted long but kept me from staring at the brown-eyed stranger with pasty skin and eyes ringed with dark circles in the side-view mirror. Kept me from remembering how Mama took any opportunity she had to express disappointment that I wasn’t blessed with her sun-kissed hair or pretty blue eyes. But no matter the miles of white lines and the never-ending stretch of desert, nothing was truly enough to forget the bad. Everything had an end.

In the time it took for me to sit upright and look away from my reflection, the dust devil had died. Stretching my long legs, I shifted and twisted, trying to adjust the weight pressing against my pelvis. My lips sputtered in defeat. I tried to get my mind off my bladder. First by counting the cars on the road and then by humming to the song on the radio, but neither worked. I looked over at Pa.

The bags under his eyes were big and dark enough for a prairie dog to hide under. A kind of tiredness that only a cigarette and a drink could remedy. And my nose still crinkled each time Pa lit up. No matter how old I got, it was just as bad as the first time. It was one of those things that never got better. With the cigarette hanging out the corner of Pa’s mouth, he reached over and fiddled with the radio stations, stopping at the sound of Brooks once trailer park trash, always trailer park trash. What made up for it all was the one thing that this place had that no other did: the sweeping panoramic view of the Santa Catalina Mountains in the distance. It was the one thing about this place that made living here tolerable.

“Looks like someone moved into old Mr. Lawson’s place,” Pa said as he pulled up in front of the trailer. I leaned forward as far as I could for a better view and spotted a black pickup truck parked in the driveway beside us. “Let’s just hope they don’t play that damn jazz music all night.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” I said as I slipped on my sandals. Pa rolled his eyes. “ It wasn’t.”

He shut off the truck, saying, “Uh-huh. Hey, don’t forget your bag of snacks. You’re eatin’ for two now.”

“You know that’s a myth, right?” I opened the door. “I ate like I always did in the beginning but by the second trimester they tell you to up your calories by three hundred fifty and on the third?—”

“Jesus Christ, Grace, I don’t care.” Pa climbed out of the truck. “It really is one thing after the other with you. I need to take a piss, so just wait a dang second.” He rushed into the trailer.

I pushed myself up from the seat, using the door for leverage. The hot metal frame stung my fingertips, and I yanked my hand away just as the magazine slipped out of my bag and tumbled onto the dirt. “Dang it,” I said, shutting my eyes and wiping the sweat from my forehead, trying to ignore my throbbing feet.

At an unflattering angle, I bent over and reached as far as I could with my fingers to pick up the magazine. Catching the corner, I slowly stood upright and groaned, placing the magazine on the hood of the truck. Just as I gathered enough energy to move, Ray stormed out of his trailer. He slammed the door, muttering the usual gibberish that would make most people gape in horror. Ray took the saying The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach by living it proudly with his big belly and plump cheeks. He tripped over the step stool and chucked it at Arlene’s lawn chair. Placing his hands on his sides, he looked over, finally noticing me. I waved and kept my other hand firmly planted on the magazine to avoid losing it. By now, the June edition was surely buried underneath a foot of sand and dirt.

“ Mornin’, Ray.”

He wiped sweat from the tip of his red bulbous nose. “How long you been standin’ there?”

“ Not long.”

“You going or not?” Arlene yelled from the inside the trailer. “I don’t hear you leavin’!”

“I’m goin’! Stop gittin’ your knickers in a twist! I’m talkin’ to Grace!” Ray shook his head, regarding me. “I tell ya, that woman’s gonna gimme another gray hair. You want me to pick up anything for you? I’m goin’ into town.”

“No, I’m fine, Ray.”

“You sure?” he asked, glancing toward Mr. Lawson’s trailer. “Hey, you know who just moved in?”

“No. Do you?”

He took another glimpse across the road and shrugged. “Your guess is as good?—”

The door creaked open, and Arlene stepped outside onto the makeshift patio, carefully holding a red plastic cup with her freshly done nails. She leaned against the door frame and stared down at Ray, who stood there not moving.

“What, woman? I’m on my way. Grace and I were just talkin’.”

“Did you ask Grace if she needed scrapbook supplies? They’re havin’ a sale,’’ Arlene said.

Ray wiped the sweat from his forehead and placed his hands on his sides. “No, I didn’t, and you didn’t tell me nothin’ about no sale.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

I watched the volley of bickering words fly back and forth like a ball in a tennis match. After eighteen years of living across from each other, not much had changed. Still, I reckoned, if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have come to know a little about the one thing in this world that was Love . A good kind of Love. They may not have much, but that Love carried them through thick and thin. That’s what everybody wants in this world. A person who loves them and all their imperfections.

Arlene reached into the back pocket of her white capris and took out several coupons cut to perfection. “Cut them just last night, so don’t go twisting my words now,” she declared as Ray took them from her hand. “And did you fix your hearing aids like I told you to do a week ago? You’re basically deaf without ’em.”

“No, honey, I just turn them down when I’m around ya,” Ray muttered. He leaned toward me, saying in a hushed tone, “You’d think she would’ve figured that out by now. Only been doin’ it for the past three years.” He flashed me a grin, but it quickly disappeared as he looked back at Arlene. And like each time Arlene saw or heard Ray do something she didn’t like, her lips thinned into a tight line.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to hear thank you or please once in a while,” Ray said. “ Just sayin’.”

“What did you say?” Arlene asked. Ray looked at his feet and cleared his throat. She folded her arms as her eyes drifted toward me and softened, a smile spreading across her face. “And how are you and that baby doin’, sweetie?”

“We’re doin’ okay,” I said.

“You drinkin’ enough water? I don’t want you faintin’.”

“Yeah, I am. And how are you doin’?”

Arlene looked at Ray, who wore a clumsy smile. “Oh, you know. Another day in paradise. And Ray, don’t forget to get some supplies for Grace, okay? They’ll be in the craft section. Got it?”

“I still have some, Arlene,” I reassured her.

“See? Told ya,” Ray said.

Arlene unfolded her arms, saying, “Well, just hurry back, will ya, before you drop dead of heat exhaustion. Don’t go over the speed limit, and for God’s sake, Ray, don’t light up when you drive. You remember what happened last?—”

“Honey, I think after over thirty years of driving, I’m gonna know a thing or two,” Ray declared.

“Uh-huh. And Grace, you gotta tell me when you finally pick a name for that baby.”

“I will, Arlene, don’t worry,” I said.

Arlene turned back inside, but not without giving Ray one last dirty look. “Fat dumbass,” she muttered and shut the screen door behind her.

I glanced over, expecting Ray to roll his eyes and mutter gibberish again. Instead, his cheeks were red, and a big toothy grin had spread across his face. My nose and brows scrunched in confusion. It was as if her hateful words had given him a spark of energy, and he was now anxiously excited, like a kid who was promised ice cream after dinner. He looked at me and jerked his thumb at the trailer, saying, “That means this boy is gittin’ lucky tonight. She can’t resist this tub of jelly.” He patted his gut, and I held back a smile.

Ray reached into the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt and took out a lighter and a pack of Camels. He gave one last look at the new neighbor and retrieved a cigarette, placing it between his chapped lips. He jerked his head and said, “Well, whoever they are, I like their taste. That truck there is a Toyota. Reliable as they come.” He opened the car door and climbed in with a grunt. Something cranked and sputtered as the gears shifted, but before driving off, he asked again, “You sure you don’t need anythin’ at all, Grace? Can’t live off Slim Jims forever, you know.”

“I’m fine, Ray. Bye now.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled before speeding down the dirt road. I fanned the cloud of dirt from my face just as a small gust of wind blew the magazine off the hood of the truck. “Gosh dang it!” I jogged around the truck and bent down as far as I could, giving no second thought to my lower back. As my fingertips snatched the corner of the magazine, a deep ache shot through my hips and feet.

Holding my back, I slowly stood upright. As I shook the dirt off the cover, I caught a glimpse of someone in the new neighbor’s driveway. A man passed by the driver’s side window, walking to the tailgate with a small limp to his right knee. By the looks of him, I bet he could reach that shelf where Pa always kept the Oreos. He was slightly stocky but muscular enough for people to do a double take. If I had to guess how old he was, I’d say late twenties, but from the few strands of gray framing his face and the faint lines at the corner of his eyes, I wondered whether it was the sun or the hardships of life that seemed to have aged him too soon. His eyes flickered over, and he halted in his tracks.

I awkwardly smiled, waving. Instead of waving back, he just stared at me quietly. Was he pissed off, or was this just his usual face? His eyes lowered to my stomach and back to my face again. And I knew I couldn’t hide the red on my cheeks. I had gotten used to people staring at me but never in this way. I expected a scowl or a look of disgust, but the man simply looked away as if it didn’t matter, removing a box cutter from the pocket of his worn denim jeans. He pushed the long, dark brown layers from his face, sweat dripping down the side of his cheek. Little bits of sunlight glared off a pair of dog tags resting against his broad chest, causing my eyes to lower as he lifted a box into his arms. I looked up again. He turned away to leave.

“If you need help with anythin’, you can ask the Johnson’s.”

He stopped and looked over.

“T-they’re right over there.” I pointed at Arlene and Ray’s trailer.

The new neighbor glanced across the street and then back at me.

“Grace!” Pa yelled and I turned, expecting him to come outside. I looked back to see the new neighbor duck his head under the door frame, letting the screen door shut behind him. Pa hopped outside, tugging on his left boot. “What are you still doing out here? Get inside before you drop dead in this heat, will ya?” Pa snapped.

“ Wait, Pa?—?”

He pushed past me and headed to the truck. “What is it now? Uncle Wayne’s gonna beat my ass if I don’t get there in time.”

“Pa, just wait,” I called out and struggled to keep up with his long strides. “I need to give you something. Please.”

He stopped in his tracks.

I dug into my bag, hastily searching through the mess of crumpled articles from baby magazines and the July Reader’s Digest . “Just gimme a sec, I know it’s in here.”

Pa tilted his head to the sky, looking for patience. He didn’t seem to find any, so he proceeded to walk away and climb into the driver’s seat. After finding a small list and a few dollar bills in my wallet, I jogged over and knocked on the window. “Pa. Pa, come on, please. Please. It’s not much, but I need ’em.”

Pa stared straight ahead. His dull eyes seemed to study each speck of dirt on the windshield as if each one represented a mistake in his life.

“ Pa, please.”

He opened the door, and I stepped back, my eyes moving higher as he stood. Though he was just a couple inches shorter than Uncle Wayne, Pa could still knock someone into next week. He looked at me like a helpless dog who kept interfering in every aspect of his life. It was that look that always made me want to cry. Pa stepped forward and snatched the list from my hand. Taking one glance, he let out an exhausted sigh and threw down his baseball cap, scrubbing a hand over his face.

A twinge of guilt sat on my chest as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It used to be Mama’s kryptonite. Now, it was mine. Moments like this instinctively caused the little girl in me to feel sorry for him. And this time I knew what I did wrong. “I forgot I had it when we went to the gas station. I’m really sorry, Pa,” I said sincerely, hoping for him to look at me the way he used to. Now he looked at me the way he looked at Mama. As a blurry shape with no features. “Please, Pa. I really am sorry. I—?”

“Why do you gotta do this to me, Grace?” Pa asked, taking me aback from his sudden soft tone. I opened my mouth to speak further, but it was as if the wind itself had whisked away the last thread of patience in him. “I’m really tryin’ to do everything I can for us. Don’t you get that? Without Uncle Wayne, I’d be on the freeway begging for scraps. And you’d be right there with me while your Ma is off doing God knows what. Christ, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?” He pushed himself off the truck, pacing back and forth. “I’m tryin’, Grace. Every day.”

“I know, Pa.”

He turned on the heel of his boot so fast it gave me whiplash to suddenly find his wide furious eyes glued to my face. “You say you know, but you don’t do nothin’! You’re just as stupid as your mother!” he yelled, his face flushed red, throwing the crumpled list on the ground.

I wanted to convince myself it was the sun that made his face so red, but deep down I knew it wasn’t. It was the burning anger, directed at me for making him put his life on hold. In some ways I did understand that anger, and in some ways, I didn’t. There were moments, though few and far between, when courage stirred in my throat to say what I’ve been aching to say since I was a little girl. But then Pa would spew those words—words I had no reason or right to object to: You’d have no one . Where are you gonna go ? and I’m the only person who still loves you . Words that left me feeling guilty for ever having the idea to leave. I swallowed, unable to move.

Arlene stepped out from the trailer. “For the Love of Christ, Bill! Stop your yakkin’ and do what your daughter says!”

Pa looked at Arlene. “Woman, I’m gittin’ sick and tired of you thinkin’ you got a say here!” he yelled. “So why don’t you go back inside and leave us the hell alone. You got that?”

Arlene lifted her manicured nail and pointed straight at him. “One day, Bill. One day, you’re gonna git what’s comin’ to ya and it ain’t gonna be pretty, but I hope to the Almighty, I’ll still be alive to see it,” she said and turned to go back inside but not before giving Pa one last look.

“That bitch is always sticking her nose in places where it don’t belong, and that’s on you, Grace.” Pa wiped his nose and picked up his baseball cap, placing his hands on his sides. “That’s on you,” he stated in a hushed tone, shoving the tip of his pointer finger in my face. A screen door creaked open, causing Pa to turn and lower his hand. “Oh, mornin’, neighbor. Didn’t see you there.”

I looked over and saw the new neighbor standing there at the end of his porch, his eyes focused on Pa. Pa cleared his throat, offering a reassuring smile that most might believe enough to help them carry on with their day. But as the man took the last step down from his porch, letting the door shut behind him, his eyes flickered to me. Flustered by his attention, I looked away, expecting the pitiful look that always came my way. As if they knew my life and my secrets. But what I never would’ve guessed was for a man as intimidating as he was, providing little to no reaction—apathetic even. As if this was another day for him, just as it was for me. I glanced over to see him now observing my pa.

“Those, uh, dog tags?” Pa asked. “My buddy’s brother is in the Army.”

“Pa, leave the man—?”

“You ever killed anyone?”

“Pa!” I exclaimed and gently hit his arm. “What is wrong with you? What makes you think you can ask such a thing?”

“Stop your bitchin’ and whinin’ and just get in the dang trailer, will ya? So I can get to work.” Pa snatched the money from my fingers and gestured to the door. “Go on now. Go.” He shoved me back.

The man moved forward but halted mid step.

“Come on. Go. Move your fat ass. Move it before you really drop dead.” Pa gave the new neighbor one last look. “What? You got somethin’ to say? Or are you gonna just keep starin’?”

The neighbor’s face was stolid and focused as he turned away, just slowly enough for me to make out the slight bump in his nose and the strong angle of his jaw. He picked up a box from the porch and went back inside.

“You see that?” Pa jerked his thumb and climbed into the truck, saying, “Ya think someone would’ve told him by now that starin’ is rude. Keep away from him, got it? Men like that are a hit and miss. They’re dangerous.”

“Got it, Pa,” I promised reluctantly, picking up the crumpled list from the ground. “And if you can, please, stop there after work. I’d really appreciate it,” I said, sticking my head through the window, holding out the list. Pa rolled his eyes and grabbed it from my hand, waving it in front of me before throwing it on the passenger seat.

“And, Pa, don’t forget—?”

“Can you get outta the way so I don’t run you over? And fix the awnin’, will ya?”

I stepped back as the tires skidded out on the dirt.

It was moments like this when I wished I had smelled Mama’s chocolate chip pancakes that one morning instead of the exhaust of her car leaving. Before I allowed the memory to dwell too long, I made my way into the trailer. The cooler air hit my face, relieving my burnt skin. It was then I found myself standing in the middle of the room. Trapped. Every time I stepped in here, time ticked slower. Everything was in slow motion, and I was stuck just like my mama. She was there, but not really. From a young age, I promised myself that I would never be like her. Yet, here I was.

Just as tired and broken.

After grabbing a Slim Jim, I took the step stool from underneath the kitchen sink. I headed outside and set it down, carefully centering my feet on top to reach for the awning rod. Standing on my toes, my fingers still strained to reach the lever.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not safe for you to be doin’ that?” Arlene exclaimed, and I looked over to see her walking up to my side with arms folded in disapproval. My mouth tugged into a smile with the Slim Jim still between my teeth. “Git down from there. It ain’t safe.”

“I got it, Arlene. Don’t worry,” I said and unsecured the lock to extend the awning. “See?” I stepped down and hooked the awning rod into the strap loop. “There isn’t nothin’ for you to worry about.”

“There isn’t nothin’ until there’s somethin’. Why can’t your dad do it? He can’t keep makin’ you do these things. One wrong move, and you’ll break your neck, Grace. Heck, if you keep it up, you’re gonna end up with a little story of your own in Reader’s Digest. Now why you smilin’? It ain’t funny.”

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen. You gotta stop worrying. He’s just too tired to do it when he comes home, Arlene. He had to put it up last week because of that bad storm. It’s hard for him, ya know? I can’t do much anymore. I’m gittin’ fatter by the week. So, if I can help him out, I wanna.”

“Grace, you know I love ya, but you’d think by now, he’d be a bit smarter. And the same goes for you, too. You can’t be doin’ these things. You got a baby now. And just ’cause you can do it, doesn’t mean you should. Now move over. I’ll take this side. You get that one. Alright?”

“ Arlene.”

“Don’t Arlene me.”

After we pulled the fabric taut from both sides, we tightened the rafter knobs and adjusted the awning’s height. I tied the strap into place. Arlene wiped the dirt off her hands and assured the arms were stable. “And you’d think your dad would also learn where and when not to open that big mouth of his.”

“It’s just who he is.”

“Sweetie, no one is just like that without a good reason. I’d bet my money it was your mama who done him that way. Now, I better not see you out here again. And if I hear ya call yourself fat again, I’m gonna throw a fit. Got it?”

“ Got it.”

Arlene nodded, saying, “Good, that’s good. Now I’ll be down a few rows at Miss Taylor’s. Gonna watch some Days of Our Lives. So if you need me, holler. And drink some water. It’s hotter than hell out here.”

“I know, Arlene.”

“I know you know.”

She smiled and turned away, heading down the street, her hips swaying to and fro. Over the past eighteen years, Arlene and Ray were the one constant and stable thing in my life. They had become my family—and God forgive me for saying this—but Arlene had become more of a mama to me than my own. I sat on the step underneath the awning with my legs in a wide stance to compensate for my belly. Relieved to be in the shade, my eyes closed. But even with an eight to ten-degree drop in temperature, it still didn’t stop the sweat from sliding down my cheek. Yet, at that moment, I didn’t really mind it. For once, it was silent. And all I could hear was the soft rustle of the mesquite trees and the song of the cactus wren.

That sound, unlike the many others that existed here, had become one of my favorites. Without it, there was no desert. I opened my eyes and stared at the empty road ahead, taking my first easy breath. Looking over, I saw that a sixty-pound black-tipped German shepherd had taken refuge underneath the new neighbor’s truck, protecting himself from the summer heat. His large tongue reminded me of a strawberry popsicle melting in the sun. I took a bite of the Slim Jim, searching for any sign of its owner. When my eyes fell upon the animal again, he was standing at attention, his big ears directed straight at me. He didn’t move, but the wag of his tail dismissed any worries I had.

“You want a bite?”

Ripping off a piece, I held out my right hand and patiently waited for him to approach on his own terms. He hesitated but walked over until his wet snout hit my palm to gobble up the treat.

“Well, aren’t you sweet? Tico would have bitten off my finger. He’s the chihuahua who lives three trailers up the street. He’s cute, but between you and me, I already like you better,” I said. “You got an owner? I don’t see a collar on ya. I’d take you, but my pa doesn’t like dogs. He thinks they’re dirty. Don’t go off now, alright? I’ll be right back.” As fast as my sore feet could muster, I rushed into the trailer and returned with a bowl of water. “There you go, buddy. The best filtered water in all of Arizona.” I sat down, watching his tongue eagerly lap at the water.

Shuffling footsteps made me lift my head. Walking up to his trailer was Mr. Emerson in a sweaty white tank top and boxers. Even from several feet away, I could smell the sour odor seeping from his skin. He did a double take and halted.

“Mornin’, Mr. Emerson.”

“That a dog, Callaway? If you think about letting that mutt anywhere near my property, I’m gonna—?”

“You’re gonna what?”

“He’s a fleabag.”

“He’s not hurtin’ anyone.”

“He’s gonna shit on my property.”

“You shit on your property,” I muttered beneath my breath and rested my chin in my hands.

“You hear me, Grace?”

“I hear ya!” I shouted.

He grumbled and stormed inside his trailer, slamming the door. I took another forceful bite of the Slim Jim. The animal yowled in protest. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not gonna forget about you,” I reassured him and handed him a second piece. After he finished chewing, he circled around two times before collapsing underneath the shade by my foot. “I know how you feel, buddy.” I reached over, gently scratching the side of his stomach. His left back leg started to shake. “Oh yes, that’s the spot. That’s the—?” I stopped as he abruptly sat upright. “What is it, boy? You hear somethin’?”

He turned his head to the direction of a sound.

I leaned forward as much as I could, spotting the new neighbor stepping off his porch. He set down an empty box and tried to flatten it out with his boot. Unsuccessful, the man threw his head back and sighed in exhaustion, placing his hands on his sides. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now that I did, I smiled at the sight of his hairy arms. They weren’t gnarly, but there was enough to make me silently laugh. Must be miserable in this heat. He glanced right and left before blowing a high-pitched whistle into the air with his index finger and thumb. The dog barked, causing him to look over. I waved.

In the ten seconds it took for the animal to return to his side, he had not spared a wave in return nor acknowledged the booming music coming up from the road. Sir Mix-a-Lot’s deep voice loudly sang Baby Got Back with a rattling engine as its chorus. I looked over, expecting either Mr. Emerson’s or Arlene’s son. A beat-up red VW Jetta sped up the dirt road.

“Mama?” I said in disbelief and stood upright but not without glancing over once again to the neighbor’s trailer.

He was already gone.