They Belong to Everybody
Jackie Lomax held the repair bill onto the cool white counter with his thumbs, spreading his fingers out on either side as if he was trying to make sure it would not get away. The big knuckles of each finger carried the small scars and scrapes of having spent the previous five years working in an auto salvage yard, using wrenches, hammers and pry bars to tear apart cars that did not want to be dismantled. He ran his hand up the bill and flattened it out again. The cost for repairing the blown head gasket looked about right, though he was unable to total the figures in his head. Whether it was about right or not, he had to pay this to get the car back so they could continue on their trip. Jackie turned for a moment and looked into the sitting area, where his wife Darla and six-year-old daughter Beverly were watching television. Darla was leaning back with her head against the wall, her ample body spread out on the plastic chair. Beverly was squirming sideways in the seat, keeping an eye on the television. He came back to the bill and opened his wallet, knowing he did not have the five hundred and twenty five dollars.
Jackie waved Darla over and, holding the bill, walked a few feet from the woman at the counter. "How much you got?" he asked Darla.
"Let me see," Darla said. Jackie handed the bill to her. She scanned down to the bottom. "Good God, the car’s worth less than that."
"I know, but what choice we got. We’re lucky the whole motor didn’t melt down."
Darla handed the bill back to him and opened her purse. "Stupid car. This is it," she said, giving him a small pile of twenties. She closed her purse.
"Darla," he began, but he stopped. The trip was an important move for her. He knew the sloped shoulders and down turned mouth, and guessed it was better not to discuss anything right then. Darla went back to the waiting area where she sat down again and looked at the ceiling. Jackie paid the woman and she gave him the keys and a copy of the bill. He carefully folded the bill, placed it in his right rear pocket and put the remaining fifteen dollars back into his wallet.
"Anything else we can help you with?" the woman asked.
"No, not right now," Jackie replied.
Jackie rapped his fingers lightly in the counter and watched his small family in the waiting area, and had no idea how they were going to get out of town or even through the next couple of days. Two days before, they had loaded everything they owned into their twenty-year-old Ford LTD Country Squire station wagon and drove out of Green Bay on a move to Fresno. What he now had in his wallet was the grand total of the family funds. The credit cards were maxed out and useless. They had a ten and a five.
"What now?" Darla asked when he joined them in the waiting area.
"I don’t know." Jackie sat down between Darla and Beverly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I hate going back out in the heat."
They had spent the last couple of days in the sweltering car driving the interstates. Several hours ago, they were going well and had just entered Wyoming when steam started pouring from under the hood and the engine light came on. A policeman stopped and called a tow truck for them, which then took the stranded car to the repair shop in Cheyenne. Since then, Jackie and Darla had only exchanged a handful of words.
Beverly clambered out of the chair. "It’s nice in here," she said.
Jackie patted her on the head. "I know it is, but we have to go." He ran his hand over his face, and felt the beard stubble and road grit mixed with sweat. He turned to Darla. "We got fifteen dollars left. Maybe we should get something to eat." His legs strained when he stood, stretched and twisted. All the driving he had done over the past few days had left his back tight. Darla got out of her chair and started towards the door. Jackie held Beverly’s soft warm hand as they stepped out of the cool repair shop into the blazing hot sun. The feeling of her light grip scared him.
"Where we going now, Daddy?" she said, looking up at him, squinting as her wispy blond hair blew around her face.
"Well, gumdrop, let’s find a grocery," Jackie said, doing his best to smile.
"Do we get to camp out tonight again?" she asked.
"Looks like it," he said. He opened the back door of the car, and she scrambled in. Beverly looked tiny in the seat, as she buckled the seatbelt.
Jackie started the car and waited a few moments to be sure everything was running properly before joining the traffic heading into Cheyenne. The car was a relic, one that had come in wrecked, but repairable with parts scrounged from around the yard. Jackie had put it back together with the help of a friend, and had managed to keep it running. However, he had never intended to drive across the country with it, and had not given reliability much thought.
Within a few miles, they found a Wal-Mart. "Fifteen ain’t much. I’ll go in, you two wait in the car," he said as he pulled into the parking lot.
"Get what you can," Darla said, leaning against the passenger door, looking across the lot.
He drove to a spot that was under a tree to provide some shade. Darla and Beverly stepped out and sat on the curb while he went toward the store.
"Don’t forget cigarettes," he heard Darla say as he walked away.
An elderly man in a blue vest welcomed him to the store and even pulled out a shopping cart for him. Jackie wandered past the produce section and into the bread aisle, where he found the cheapest loaf of white bread available. From there, he went to the condiments and added a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise. He also tossed in a bag of potato chips. The lunchmeat case was well stocked. Jackie took a few things and placed them in the cart, but stopped before he wandered away, thinking he did not have enough for everything. The two packages of honey-baked ham and one of bologna were going to be too much, unless he did not buy the cigarettes. Jackie started walking away, but then thought that the cigarettes were the one thing that Darla wanted. At least she mentioned this when he had left them on the curb. Honey-baked ham was his favorite, though. He went back to the cooler, checked the prices again and saw that he needed to make a choice. He finally reached in and put the lunchmeat back into the case.
There was no need to go any further into the store, so he went to the counter, where he paid and bought two packages of Basics. His brand was Winston, and he hated Basics, but he was hoping to save a few dollars. When everything was paid for, he had $2.58 left. Jackie left the store and met Darla and Beverly on the curb by the car and set the plastic grocery sack next to them.
Darla looked in. "What’s this?"
"That’s all I got." Jackie was standing over her, looking at the top of her sweaty head. The black roots of her hair were showing, indicating the bleach job had been many weeks ago.
"That’s all you got? We can’t eat bread, chips and mayonnaise."
"We’re out of money," Jackie said, sitting down.
"Out of money," her lips voiced, just barely loud enough to hear. Then much louder, "We can’t eat bread and mayonnaise. What were you thinking?"
"Sorry." There was nothing else for him to say, so he tried to put his arm around her, knowing how the last few hours had been such a burden. Instead of accepting the comfort, she shook his arm off her shoulder.
"What is this? We got three days of driving. How we gonna get there? We can’t stay here. In this stinking parking lot, in this goddamned town. Green Bay was bad enough."
"Darla, watch your language around Beverly," Jackie said.
"Watch my? Get back in there. You want us to starve," she said standing up, putting her hands on her fleshy hips.
Jackie could not look up. "You know I cain’t do that."
"Can’t do what, let your daughter go hungry? Is that what you want? You want her to go hungry tonight." Darla stepped a few feet away. Her full face was red from anger and heat.
"I can’t start, you know, taking things," he said, trying not to say the word "taking" too loud around Beverly.
"Give me another answer then," she said, sitting on the fender of the car.
"W
hat about your brother in Fresno?"
Darla slid off and stood in front of him, bent over slightly. "He ain’t there. He’s out of town at a job site. Besides that’s a thousand miles away."
"Maybe I can find a job for a few days," Jackie said.
"Huh? Get in the car," she said, kicking his left foot.
"Mommy, I’m hungry," Beverly said.
Darla slapped her and put a finger in her face. "Shut your mouth." She seized her arm and yanked her off the curb
"Darla stop," Jackie said, standing up and pulling Darla’s hand from Beverly’s arm.
"Mommy, that hurt," Beverly said, rubbing her face.
"Don’t you start crying, unless you want to get whupped," Darla said. "Get in the car, both of you."
"What’re you going to do?" Jackie asked.
"Get. In. The damn. Car."
"I’m not going to start stealing," Jackie said, climbing behind the wheel. "I never have and I’m not starting now."
"Well just what did you have in mind?" Darla said once she was in. "No money, no food, in the middle of God knows where. What, we supposed to go in that field there and start eating wheat? Maybe put some between two pieces of bread and cover it with generic mayonnaise." She grabbed one of the packs of cigarettes out of the bag and pushed the lighter in. About thirty seconds later, it popped out. She put the hot lighter to the cigarette and took a few hurried tugs to get started. The exhaled smoke streamed out the window. "Find another store. Wal-Mart watches like hawks."
Jackie left the parking lot and drove down the road until he came to a small grocery. "Don’t," Jackie said. "I can find something if we need to. You get caught and we’re in way more trouble."
Darla was not listening to what he was saying, instead looking for a parking spot close to the door. "Right there. Soon as I come out, you start the motor."
"Darla," Jackie tried again. "No." She had already opened the door and was leaving the car.
"Where’s Mommy going?" Beverly asked from the back seat.
"Well," Jackie said, watching Darla head towards the door. "She just needs to pick up a few things. We need a few groceries." Jackie looked at Beverly in the rear view mirror and saw her smile. She was a good kid, especially considering how the first six years of her life had gone. He looked down at his lap, not wanting her to see his face.
"That’s good. I’m hungry," Beverly said. With both hands, she was holding an old doll, one of the few toys she had been able to bring with her on the trip. The doll was beat up after a number of years of use, and had a head of frizzy red hair that stuck up at all kinds of angles. Beverly ran her hands over the hair to try to smooth it down, but it kept going back up. Finally, she licked both of her hands and gave this one more try. The hair stayed in place.
As Darla went in the automatic door, he was reminded about how she was on the round side when they met, but had gotten bigger every year since. She was still loud though, much like when they first met. While stationed at Lemoore Naval Air Station, he and a few friends went to Fresno for an evening and ended up in a country bar. Darla and her friends were all chatty and drunk, having no hesitation in approaching the young men and getting them to dance. Jackie liked her, and though they only exchanged phone numbers that night, soon they were seeing each other once or twice a week. A few months later, they married, and she traveled from base to base with him for the next three years until he was out, and they settled in Green Bay where he was from. Green Bay was hard for her.
"Just a few years ago," Jackie whispered. He turned on the radio, and listened to Kenny Chesney when he saw Darla come out of the store walking quickly and holding her arms to her sides. Her big breasts were jumping back and forth, as she tried to keep from running. He started the car and leaned over to open the door.
"Go," she said, getting in. Jackie put the car in gear and pulled onto the street. From beneath her shirt, she produced a package of lunchmeat. Then another and another until there were four packages on the seat. She was a big woman, Jackie thought, she could hide a lot of meat. Like a magician, she also produced an egg from each pants pocket.
"How did you do that?" he asked, negotiating the car through traffic.
"You gotta know where to put stuff. I did this all time when I was in high school," she said, stacking the groceries. From her bra, she removed a package of American cheese. "These boobs come in handy."
They drove for several minutes until they found a small wooded park, and stopped the car under a line of trees. After he shut off the car, a cooling breeze came in the driver’s window, causing Jackie to close his eyes and relax for a few seconds. The sun was beginning to set, and the heat was backing off. They took the utensils they had, a few plates, knives, and forks, and sat in one of the picnic shelters, where Darla began making sandwiches for everyone. Jackie could rest for the first time all day, with the car fixed, no road noise, or shouting over the furnace-like air blasting in the window. Darla handed Jackie a sandwich of white bread, mayonnaise and a generous stack of honey-baked ham. He took one bite and tried not to think that she had stolen it a few minutes before. The food tasted good nonetheless. Breakfast was over twelve hours before and they had been on the road constantly until the car broke down. Even the water out of the jug tasted good.
"We need to talk," Jackie said finally, lighting one of the cigarettes, breathing in the harsh smoke. "We’re long ways from Fresno, and it won’t get any easier."
Darla wiped off the plates with a paper towel, and stacked them on the table. "What do you want to do?"
Jackie looked at Beverly who seemed to be ignoring their conversation. "Honey, you get enough to eat?" he asked her.
"Yes," Beverly said, playing with the same doll she had in the car.
"Jackie, we ain’t going back," Darla said, putting the lunchmeat into the grocery sack with the bread and mayo.
"I didn’t say that," he said.
"Well, you don’t have to. I know what you’re thinking." Darla took the bag back to the car, set it in the back seat, and then returned a few moments later.
"I can’t drive across country like this," Jackie said after she sat down.
"We can’t go back, we can’t stay here, what choice do we have? Green Bay ain’t got jobs for you."
"Why can’t we stay here for a few weeks? I don’t want to, you know, steal, our way," he said.
"Stay here?" she said, her voice rising. "And do what? Just what?"
"I can find something for a few days," he said. The words slipped out before he could stop them.
"Oh sure," Darla said. "How many times did you try? Couldn’t turn anything up. You looked and looked, so what choice did I have?" Darla turned away and looked out over the rest of the park. "I swear. I’m the only thing holding this family together."
Jackie leaned forward and stood slowly. Not long after moving to Green Bay, Darla started locking herself away in the apartment, while he worked the low-paying, salvage job. "I worked so damn hard for you," he said. "I ain’t missed more than three days this last year. You didn’t go out to find a job. I’m not sure you remember what honest work is. One time you did, but you forgot." The sun had set, with only a small amount of light coming over the ridge in the distance. He could barely make out the features on her face. She changed so much over the past few years. When they were first married, she would go out with other wives on the base and become involved with various social activities for the enlisted men. Since the move, none of his pleading and arguing brought her back.
"I got nothing to add," Darla said. "We’re here and we gotta find a way to keep going. Make a choice Jackie."
"What choice?" he began. Jackie gripped the edge of the picnic table and dug his nails into the peeling paint and wood fiber. His voice came out strained and harsh. "How?"
"You know what we have to do," Darla said "I can’t go back, I just can’t stay there. I can’t."
&nbs
p; There was another picnic table at the border of the park, and he began walking towards it in slow measured steps. Jackie had always failed to reason his anger, to figure out whether he was right or wrong. This time was no exception, as he knew he did not want to steal, but was helpless to find another solution. The cool began to soak in, as he sat on the table and looked at the nearly hidden ridge, now blending in with the gathering darkness.
Confused. Jackie had spent much of his life that way. The Navy was a good choice, since there was always someone to tell him what to do, what to wear and where to go. Once out, he went back to Green Bay with his new wife, and no real skills other than being able to use a wrench and a hammer. This led him to work for the junkyard taking cars apart for salvage. Hard work, dirty, dangerous, but it was what it was.
He heard someone walk up behind and saw Beverly sitting down next to him. "Don’t argue with Mommy."
"Sorry, adults get like that." He patted her little blond head and ran his hand over her hair. The darkness was nearly complete, and the sky was awash with more stars than he thought existed. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry."
Beverly walked away from the picnic bench, and turned around a few times to see the entire sky. "Do you know the names of the stars?" she asked.
"No, Daddy ain’t smart enough to know those things," he said joining her. "Except the Big Dipper. Everyone knows that." He squatted down and pointed it out to her.
"Who do the stars belong to?" she asked.
"Nobody," Jackie said.
"Nobody? They have to belong to somebody," she said, her head still tilted back.
Jackie smiled at his daughter. "They belong to everybody. You, me, Mommy. Everybody."
Beverly gave him a hug, then said, "I like that." She ran back to where Darla was sitting. Darla’s lit cigarette was barely visible from where he was standing. He saw it move when Beverly ran up.
He started walking around the area. A saying occurred to him, but he was not sure how it went. It had to do with stealing for his family. Was it right or wrong? Try as he might, the saying would not come, but he began to understand the question. The park had a small building with a bathroom they had been using since they had been there. As he was thinking of this question, he spotted a garden hose coiled next to the building, and had a thought. Was it right or wrong to steal? With the hose, he could siphon gas from other vehicles so they could keep going. They had done this all the time at the yard, taking gas out of a vehicle that just came in and putting it into one of the workers cars. They found all kinds of things in those wrecked cars, most which they were supposed to return but seldom did. The gas was always theirs to keep.
Jackie slid a knife out of his left pocket and had no trouble cutting off a ten-foot length of hose. He carried this back to the car where Darla and Beverly were sitting. He said, "I’ll be back in a little bit." She must have understood the meaning of the hose and what he was doing, since she only looked up for a moment.
He tossed the hose on the passenger seat, and drove out of the park and along the street until he came to a dimly lit alley with a delivery truck parked behind a store. The gauge on the car stood at about a quarter full, and he knew a fill would cost about forty dollars. A full tank would take them three hundred and fifty miles at the rate they were going. The tank on the truck was high enough so that when he pulled beside it, he knew the siphon would work. The alley was secluded and hidden from the street, so he felt he was as safe as could be expected. He jumped out of the car and opened the gas caps on both vehicles. The truck used gasoline and was nearly full. He stuck the hose in and put the other end in his mouth. After a number of inhales, he felt the fuel coming along the hose, but he still did not get it out fast enough and took a mouth full. Coughing and spitting the oily mess out, he managed to get the end into the car’s tank without stopping the flow. He hacked and spat as much as he could, and even washed his mouth out with the water they had in the back of the car. God, how Billy would have loved to see that.
Billy was a big farm boy who had worked at the yard for a few years. He was clever and had a knack for getting equipment to work. Over the course a week, Jackie and Billy put the LTD together, taking the chassis from one car and dropping in an engine and transmission from another. That last day at the yard was the last time Jackie saw him. Joe Parker, the owner, had bought a case of Leinenkugels and some steaks, and fixed lunch for the workers. They sat around eating and talking about what they were going to do from there on. In the few months since Joe announced he was selling the property for a development, everyone seemed to have made a plan, except Jackie. The other workers assured him something would turn up, though nobody had any suggestions. Towards the middle of the afternoon, people started to leave, and there were handshakes and slaps on the back, and promises to stay in touch. However, Billy moved back to the farm a few weeks later, Joe left town in a new RV and the other workers scattered.
When Jackie had come home, Darla was happier than he had seen her in months. "I just called my brother, and he agreed to let us stay with him until we find a place out there." They talked off and on about moving to Fresno for the next few days.
A week later, after having driven around Green Bay looking for a job, he agreed to the move. "There’s not much keeping me here, so what difference does it make?"
"Oh," she said jumping around, clapping her hands. "I can get out of this goddamn place." Jackie swore the color in her face changed for the better that day. She started getting out of bed by 10:00 and fixing breakfast for the first time in weeks. Jackie felt he had made the right decision. Darla had become fun again.
It seemed like a long time ago, but that was only a few weeks before. Now he was stealing gas from a truck to keep going. The fuel continued to flow, and Jackie sat on the ground next to the car, wondering if the owner of the delivery truck would even be surprised the next day. He would probably not even miss it, would he? Jackie did his best to put that out of his mind as he heard the fuel running into the tank a few inches behind his head. For a moment, he tried to think of a way of paying the owner back, maybe sending a check and a letter saying, "Here’s money for the gas I stole, thanks."
No. The tank filled, and Jackie pulled the hose out before too much overflowed. He recapped the tanks on the truck and the car, and put the hose in the back. Ten minutes, that was all it took. Ten minutes and a dark alley, and they could continue for another day. Darla had done what she needed to do for them that day, and so had he. Maybe in a few years, after they settled in, he would explain it to Beverly, but for now, he simply hoped she would not notice. Jackie started the car and drove back to join the rest of his family.
"Time to go to sleep, sugar pie," he said to Beverly, when he met them at the picnic table. Together, they spread out the foam mattress and blankets in the back of the car. Darla and Beverly crawled in.
Jackie stayed up for several hours looking at the sky and tried to figure out how they were going to get through the next few days. In Green Bay, Jackie would come home from the yard and find Beverly sitting on the living room floor watching television, while Darla was in bed. Darla might fix dinner, but other than that, Beverly was left to her own devices. She had only been in school for a year, but Jackie knew the limited prospects of children in their neighborhood, and it broke his heart everyday when he came home to see her there alone. Long before, he realized he was never going to be more than what he was, a man who would have to work hard jobs for little pay. Having a wife who was not willing or able to contribute was going to make this even harder on Beverly. What Darla and he had stolen that day seemed of small consequence when compared to Beverly’s well-being. With the darkness fully closed around a gentle breeze came in, and with it, Jackie realized he would do anything for his daughter. He would work, he would beg, and he would certainly steal if that were needed.
He did not sleep much that night.
The next morning, he and Beverly made a game out of gathering bits of wood to build a fire in one of the outdoor grills. Darla scrambled the two eggs she had stolen the day before, and some of the lunchmeat and cheese on top. After they ate, they cleaned up as best as they could in the restroom and drove out of the park.
"I want some coffee. I’m kind of tired," Jackie said, as he pulled into a gas station near the interstate entrance ramp.
"Sure," Darla said. "Good luck."
Jackie went into the station and found the coffee machines in the back of the store. He poured a large cup, and before going over to the counter, browsed the aisles to see what else he could buy for the money he had. His choices were slim, but he suddenly thought about how well behaved his daughter had been, and picked a bag of M&Ms. He paid for these and returned to the car, opening the back door and handing the bag of candy to Beverly. "Here you go," he said, kissing her on the cheek.
Beverly smiled and opened the package. "Want some?" she asked, holding the package forward.
"Thanks," Darla said, taking a few of the candies and giving some to Jackie after he buckled in.
"Well? Ready?" Jackie asked. "Anyone need to use the bathroom?"
Darla looked at him. "Jackie, it’s time. Start the car and let’s go."
"We’re only going to get about three hundred miles before we have to stop," Jackie said. He had not started the car, knowing that once he did, he would have no choice, but to drive on.
"Three hundred miles is three hundred miles closer," she said.
Jackie listened to Beverly in the back seat, eating the candies one at a time. There was a nice little crunch, followed by a series of smaller ones as she ate. "What are we going to do tonight, then the next? What about when we get there?"
"What then?" she asked, shrugging. "Who knows? But, you’ll have to do something. Me too. We’ll do what we’ve been doing until we get there."
He adjusted the seat belt, moving around on the worn cushion. Darla watched a few cars go by on the road, before reaching over and turning the ignition switch. The engine wheezed to life. She said, "keep your speed down, you know, save gas."
Jackie had never made a plan in his life. He did not even know how. The future had always been and still was a blank picture, except before he had been able to buy food and find a place to live. That was always enough. Now he could not even do that. He put the car in gear, and in a few moments pulled onto Interstate 80, heading west at fifty-five miles per hour with the tightening thought that he would have to figure out a way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One day I found myself in an automotive junkyard to see if I could find a dashboard for my Alero. Aleros have a propensity for the vinyl on the dashboard cracking and wrinkling until it looks like the topography of Pennsylvania. The price for a new part was around $800, so I thought I would try to find a used one and save a few dollars. I went there after work in my Dockers, long sleeved dress shirt and Ecco shoes to be escorted by an employee around the muddy lot of abused cars. A thought struck me. Here was a group of men working a difficult job finding a way through life. Having spent a career in office jobs, I have long been removed from these types of occupations. Though visiting junkyards and the like was nothing new, this day it occurred to me that I had wandered into a common side of life that I was rarely exposed to anymore.
I coupled this idea with one day seeing a woman and small child in a dilapidated car at a grocery store parking lot. With They Belong to Everybody, I wanted to talk about the reactions of people turned loose in our society with no preparation or means of support. They are ill-equipped for the sudden changes that come along, but survive nonetheless. This is a disturbingly common story and is a burden we all create and share. Hence the title.
We walked around the yard for about half an hour. I am always interested in machines, even ones forcibly torn apart, but alas all the Aleros in the yard either were the wrong color or had a messed up dashboard. I left empty handed. I am too cheap to shell out the money to fix mine, so I just drove it with a wrinkled dashboard for another seven years.
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