Six Miles From Nashville (2 page)

Everyone sharing and living together s
ounded inviting at first, then she found out about the ‘free love’ part of their philosophy and couldn’t agree to do that.
I thought I couldn’t have children who didn’t know who their daddy was
,
but that baby don’t know his daddy! I am no better than a hippie.

A little run-
down building with a gravel parking lot full of pickup trucks and eighteen wheelers lay a quarter mile ahead. As she approached, she saw the busted-up sign that merely said, ‘Eats’.

This is my Daddy’s kind of place. He never did cotton to fancy places.
She noticed a ‘help wanted’ sign in the front window. She grabbed it and took it to a big blonde waitress. “Is this just for decoration or do you want to hire someone?”

The woman looked her
up and down and frowned. “You’ll do.”

Betty
followed her meekly to the kitchen where the cook labored over a grill full of hamburger patties. “Do you need her back here or can I have her up front?”

“You take her fer now. I don’t have time to train her until
tamarra.”

The wo
man narrowed her grey eyes at her and stuck out her big hand. Before she shook it, Betty noticed large ornate diamond rings caked with lard. The woman’s hands felt slick. She stared at her tall back-combed hair.
Mama used to call that a ‘French
roll’.
It was bleached yellow-blonde and Betty decided that she only got it fixed twice a month. It looked flat on one side.
That must be the side she sleeps on.
She had put multiple bobbie pins amongst the hardened curls that were adorned with bumble bees.
Doesn’t she know that beehive hairdos went out of style in ’72?

“Everybody calls me ‘Sweetie’. I’m sure you know it isn’t because of my disposition. It’s just because that is all anyone has ever called me.”

“I am Betty. Do you want me to wait tables?”

“I think I will start you with the cash register.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know your kind. You asked for work before you asked for food.
Go into the washroom and freshen up. That long hair will be hard to manage around food. I’m glad you have a bandana tied around most of it. That part that hangs down has to be behind your shoulders. We gotta hustle now. There is a lot of regulars in here wanting their grub. Can you wait to eat until after the rush?”

“Yes
, Ma’am.”

“I can get you a
sweet roll and coffee. I am sure you can sneak in a bite in between customers.”

“Thank you kindly,” Betty said. She really meant it. She
hadn’t ever worked anywhere before unless cleaning up and working in  the little grocery store her daddy owned counted. She hadn’t had a real boss in her life.
I better count back the change real careful-like so as not to mess up the register balance.
She remembered that her folks were always worried about that and were always talking about how careful she had to be with making change.

I wish I was back in high school. I wish I was home with Mama and Daddy. Why did I want to grow up so much?

She found the washroom and stared at her face in the cracked mirror on the wall. She thought she looked older. Her cheeks were sunken. Her eyes had turned to dull, lifeless brown orbs.

She
pinched her cheeks to bring up some color as she dug in her duffel bag for a brush. She removed the bandana that she had tied over her hair in the fashion of a gypsy. The brush smoothed out the tangles in the long thick mane and she quickly braided it in a French braid. Betty retied the bandana and searched for the baggie that held her makeup. She found it and applied mascara carefully to her lashes. Then she put a little strawberry lip gloss on her dry lips.
I really do look like a hippie. I never have cared for makeup. I could use some to put some life in my drab skin.

She took her
place behind the cash register and looked over the buttons on it. It looked easy enough to operate. Betty saw a menu on the counter and studied the prices and saw that the machine divided departments into courses and sales tax.
Simple enough.

Miss Sweetie brought her
the cinnamon roll and coffee for breakfast. She loved the roll, but only drank the coffee so as not to hurt her feelings.
I don’t understand why people like that bitter stuff, but I have to admit that it did feel good going down.

The people
eating at the place were mostly quiet and respectful. They looked like all the farmers from back home. They wore baseball caps with a logo from one of the feed stores or businesses in the small town. Some of them wore khaki work pants while others sported Levis. All of them wore boots, whether in the form of cowboy or work boots. There was nary a running shoe amongst them.

The high school coaching staff stood apart from them in that they wore the t
eam colors and athletic wear. She felt more at ease with them because they were like the teachers from home. She had spent three hours a day on the high school tennis courts. The coach was complimentary of her skills, yet Betty never played against another team. She knew she wasn’t good enough for the A team. However, many times she was asked to make up a fourth player when the teachers wanted to play tennis. It was okay, she played mostly for fun and not the win.

That is probably why I didn’t
make the team. What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about all of this?
Shoot, I need a Kleenex to wipe this silly tear from my eye.

“Miss, I’m payin’ for my friends today. We had these three tickets.”

“Yeah, sure.” Betty fumbled around the cash register until she found the right buttons to push.

“You’re new here. Are you headed to Nashville?”

“Why would you think that?”

“We’re only six miles from Nashville and get a lot of young folks working their way to stardom.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nope, I’m just workin’.”

“Here, take a five. You look like you could use it.”

Betty didn’t  know what to do. She stared at him.

“It’s a tip. You can ask Miss Sweetie. It’s alright.”

Sweetie stepped up and took the five from his extended hand. “Here you go, Betty. It’s okay.”

She couldn’t keep from bawling in front of all of them. She sopped her
face quickly and held her breath for a minute.

“Betty, I think you need to lay down. You look all done in. I can handle things the rest of today.”

Betty looked at her feet and willed them to move. If they had moved, she wouldn’t have known where they would go. Her skinny shoulders slumped. She couldn’t get them to stand proud. She had never felt so tired.

“The jo
b comes with a little bitty apartment upstairs. You have to climb the back stairs. Let me help you.”

“Cool.”

She took Betty’s hand and grabbed the duffel bag from behind the counter. Sweetie led her to the back of the cafe. They walked out the back door and up some steep wooden stairs to a small door. She pushed it open and deposited the duffel bag on the floor. “There is clean sheets on the bed. Crawl on in and I will bring you a plate as soon as I can get Bill to rustle it up.”

“I...ah...”

“Go on to sleep. I will be back in a jiffy.”

Chapter 3

Sweetie descended the weathered old wooden staircase and went directly to the pink princess phone beside the cash register and dialed
her doctor’s number.

“Dr. Jim, can you come over for some dessert? I have a favor to ask.”

“Two o’clock okay?”

“Perfect. Bring your doctoring stuff.”

“I hear ya.”

She replaced the receiver, poured coffee into a thick mug, and sat at the first booth by the door.
That girl is feelin’ poorly. The doctor will help her.

When Dr. Jim and Sweetie opened the door to
the small apartment, they were afraid it was too late to help the girl.

“Betty, can you wake up?” Sweetie called.

The form on the bed remained still. Dr. Jim placed his hand on her forehead and then proceeded to give her an examination.

“She has given birth recently.
I believe she will be up within a few days if she gets some bed rest. Will you see to it that she understands that it is important to stay in bed?”

“Oh dear...Yes, I will make sure she rests.”

“You need to ask her about her baby.”

“What should I ask?”

“Be sure that she hasn’t done something to it. You never know about people these days. We have to be sure she hasn’t killed it.”

“Killed?”

“She will be okay. If you want, I can come check on her tomorrow.”

“Please do.”

She watched him leave and turned her gaze to her new acquaintance. By looking at her beautiful pale face, you wouldn’t think she was a murderer. “Betty girl, what did you do with that baby?” she whispered.

She left the room to find someone to watch over Betty
while she finished her shift. She spotted Daisy wiping down the big corner booth table.

“
Daisy, I need you to keep watch over the new girl. Let me know when she wakes up. She is in the apartment out back.”

“Mind if I watch
TV while I’m there? I’ll keep the sound low.”

“Sure.”

Sweetie watched the aging waitress as she took her post watching after the girl. “I don’t know why you always send me these lost souls, God, but I’ll do the best I can.”

The moon spilled through the gap
in the frilly white curtains. Betty opened her eyes and couldn’t remember where she was. She felt different. Pain seared through her insides, but she was stronger. For a minute she forgot about the infant, but memories of him flooded back.
Now, he is all that I think about.
How long will it be before they find him a home? People who adopt babies really do love them, don’t they? Did I do the right thing?

Betty
heard a strange sound in the corner of the room. An old lady in a white waitress uniform sat slumped in a glider chair in front of the TV. Her mouth hung open and emitted the loudest snore the girl had ever been exposed to.

“Hey! Who are you?”

The old waitress shook herself awake and stared at Betty. “Sweetie sent me to watch over you and make sure you stay in that bed.”

“Why do I have to stay in bed?”

“Dr. Jim ordered you to be confined to bed for a couple of days. He don’t want you to get up for nothin’.”

“Dr. Jim?”

The woman stood and put her hand on Betty’s shoulder after she struggled up into a sitting position on the bed. “He took care of you, Honey. He stitched you up and seen to it that you will recover nicely. I gotta get Sweetie. She wanted to know the minute you woke up.”

The girl
stared at her for a long minute. “Go ahead and tell Miss Sweetie. I won’t leave the bed.”

It wasn’t long before Miss Sweetie came in and sat on the edge of
the bed. It was just the two of them in the room. She looked nervous and her voice shook when she spoke, “Betty, what happened to the baby?”

Words explaining what
happened were hard to come by. She cleared her throat to buy some time. “I...ah took him to the hospital in Springfield.”

“Was he okay?”

“I think so. He had a good strong cryin’ voice.”

Miss Sweetie sat without saying
a word for a long time. The electric clock hummed on the bedside table. A nasty fly dove at Betty’s face and she slapped it hard. It died on her cheek. Miss Sweetie snapped a Kleenex from a plastic canvas tissue holder and wiped the fly off Betty’s face. Sweetie  handed her another one to clean her hand. Betty didn’t know what to tell her.

“I didn’t have a job. I couldn’t work and take care of a little baby at the same time. There was a
news story on TV about lots of girls having babies and leaving them in bathrooms or in dumpsters. The girls were hunted down most of the time and put into jail.