Good Enough
the song Good Enough is by Sarah McLachlan, and I take no credit for it. The characters Jack Kelley, Mush and Kloppmann were created by Disney. The characters Callie Lewis and Patrick Lewis were created by me, Andrea Hanson
Photo from the Official Sarah McLachlan Website
Callie sat at the bar looking into her half empty glass. She sighed deeply and cringed slightly at the pain in her side. She brought the glass to her rough, cracked lips and swallowed the dark caramel colored liquid. She set the empty glass down on the dirty counter and shifted her gaze to the room she was in. The small, dank pub was almost empty. A single bar hand stood behind the counter eyeing Callie with cruel intent while cleaning a glass. She grimaced at his look and turned her head. Her pale brown hair swung in her face and she reached a hand up and parted it from her face. Her hand slightly touched the blue-yellow bruise on her eye and she flinched. She nodded to the bar hand for another drink and he filled her glass without a word, she picked it up and turned on her stool, not wanting to make eye contact with the greasy middle aged man. Her eyes studied the few people left in the bar. A young man, maybe 18, sat at a table covered with beer stains and spilled pretzels. He had a full beer in front of him and was staring at the wall. He picked the beer up and took a long gulp. He set the glass down and ran a hand through his dirty hair. He brought his hand down and stared at it. It was a dark black in places from the newspapers he carried, the ink had been there so long he wondered if his hands had ever been clean. He sighed a deep sigh and pulled out a red handkerchief as a violent cough attack hit him. He sighed once more and finished his beer in a single gulp. Callie’s simple green eyes saddened a bit at the boy whose life on the streets had made him a man before his time. She said a silent prayer to the god she no longer believed in thanking him she always had a place to stay and someone to love her. Her eyes tore from the newsy and surveyed the other few drunks, but they quickly found their way back. His face was etched with pain, a pain that Callie could sympathize with. A pain from sleeping in gutters and an always empty stomach. The boy stood up and brought his glass over to the counter. “Fill ‘er up” He said gruffly. The bar hand silently filled the boys drink. Callie’s eyes flew to her drink as she tried to appear invisible to the boy. He glanced down at her as she stared at her drink and sat down on the stool next to her. He smiled at her, a large smile that surprised her. She smiled nervously back and took a quick sip of her drink. He noticed the bruise and swelling on her eye and his eyes filled with concern. “You ok?” He asked softly. Callie’s eyes flew to his, open with surprise.
“Ya, I’m fine. I fell.” She said softly and simply. Her lifeless jade eyes searched his milky brown ones looking for something familiar. All she saw was sadness and concern. She shifted slightly and brought her eyes down to her drink, carefully pushing her soft hair out of her face. He nodded to himself.
“Yer very talented.” He said, smiling slightly. She glanced sideways at him, clearly confused. He sniffed loudly. “I mean, falling so you hurt year eye like dat. It’s gotta be hard ta do…takes talent.” He said, glancing at her sideways. She laughed a little to herself at her lame excuse.
“Yep…dat’s me. De only one in da woild who can get a shinah fallin’.” She said. He chuckled.
“I’m Jack. Jack Kelley. At least dats what me muddah calls me.” He said, holding out his hand. She grinned.
“Callie Lewis…dats what I call meself…I don’t know what me muddah called me.” She said shaking his hand. He nodded at her and took a gulp of his beer. She quietly went back to her drink also.
“So yer a newsy?” She asked, trying to make conversation. He nodded.
“Yep…fer now at least.” She turned in her stool to face him.
“Fer now?” He smiled at her and breathed deeply taking her presence in. She sat a good foot shorter than him and wore dark brown pants and a dirty white men’s shirt. Her pale brown hair was soft and hung down her back and over her shoulders. She was pretty, but not gorgeous or even beautiful. Her skin was smudged in places and her clothes were dirty. She was timid and nervous, probably with good reason. She waited for his answer and took another sip of her drink. As her arm went towards her mouth her sleeve slipped down her arm and Jack caught a glimpse of heavy bruises on her wrist and arm. He glanced at the large clock above the bar and realized he would be late and be locked out of the lodging house, but he decided to stay where he was.
“Well I don’t plan on bein’ one ferever. I mean, ya gotta grow up sometime, right?” He said. Callie nodded.
“Yeah, I guess ya do.” She said softly. “What do ya wanna do wit year life then?” Jack smiled wistfully.
“I wanna go ta Santa Fe. Get far away from dese wretched streets an’ become a cowboy.” He said honestly, looking off into space. Callie nodded.
“Doesn’t that sound a little childish?” She asked, startling her. He looked down at her, confused. Timidly she went on, “I mean, run away an’ become a cowboy? What makes ya tink year life would be any bettah dere?” She asked honestly. “Sides, if ya wanna be a cowboy ya should go to some of dat western territory we got now…up in Montana an’ Wyoming, dats where da cowboys are.” He looked down at her like the wind had been knocked from him.
“Yea, I guess.” He said softly towards the shards of his shattering dream.
“I’m sarry. I shouldn’t ‘ave said anyting.” She looked into the murky liquid in her glass. “I’m always doin’ dat. Sayin’ tings when I shouldn’t say anyting.” She said mostly to herself.
“It’s ok. I guess I needed a good reality dose. Yer right, leavin’ wouldn’t change much…just da scenery.” He said, defeated, taking a small sip of beer. She glanced over at him and smiled slightly. He locked eyes with hers and smiled also. “Look at me, tellin’ my life dreams to a complete strangeah.” He said smiling. She laughed.
“Well we’re familah souls. Both in an empty bah neah midnight hidin’ from our problems.” She said raising her glass in toast. He smiled sadly and chinked his glass to hers and they both took a sip of the liquid they drank to forget.
Callie and Jack sat in the empty bar till close talking. At two am they stepped out of the bar onto the New York street. Callie smiled up at Jack.
“I’m glad I met you tonight Jack Kelley.” She said holding out her hand.
“I’m glad I met you too, Callie Lewis.” He answered shaking her hand. She smiled again and walked quickly through the shadows and streets towards her home. Jack stood watching her retreating figure until he could no longer see it, before he lit a cigarette and walked in the opposite direction towards the lodging house where he hoped someone left a window open. Callie arrived at her home in Brooklyn around four am and quietly entered the small apartment. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her husband wasn’t home yet from his night shift at the docks. She went into the small bathroom and brushed her teeth and gargled some mouth wash getting rid of the whiskey on her breath and then fell asleep in the bed that occupied the small bedroom.
Patrick entered the small apartment softly as dawn spread over a sleeping Brooklyn. He left his shoes in the hall and made his way through the small rooms towards the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and watched his wife sleep. She looked almost peaceful in her sleep and he envied her. He took his shirt and pants off leaving only his boxers and sat down on the edge of the bed. He gently brushed a wild strand of her hair off her face and softly touched her bruised eye. He grimaced at the thought of last night and laid a gentle kiss on her lips. She smiled in her sleep and opened her eyes. She looked up adoringly at her husband and brought a hand up to his dirty cheek. “What time is it?” She asked groggily.
“Four-thirty.” She smiled and got out of bed. He took her place lying down on the hard mattress.
“I’ll be quiet gettin’ ready.” She said, somewhat nervously. He sat up and took her by the waist.
“Callie.” He started. Tears formed in her eyes and she looked away. He stood up and embraced her with his strong arms. “Callie, last night…oh god. I’m so sorry.” He said, taking her face into his hands lovingly. He kissed her softly. “I’m so sorry.” She nodded, forcing a smile.
“I know.” She paused. “I’ll be home at five.” She said looking into his clear blue eyes.
“Good. We’ll do something special tonight, don’t worry about dinner.” He said kissing her once more. She smiled and he let go of her and fell down on the bed into a deep slumber. Callie got ready quietly and left the small Brooklyn apartment for her low wage job.
Jack squinted in the bright sunlight and waved a paper over his head. Down the road a little ways was his good friend Spot. Thinking he needed a little change of scenery Jack decided to try selling in Brooklyn that day, but his mind couldn’t get out of the bar where it sat staring at Callie. He sat down on the curb and studied the busy scene in front of him. He quickly bolted to his feet when he recognized a girl walking on the opposite side of the street carrying a basket of laundry. Callie wore a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. Her hair was pulled into a bun but unwilling wisps danced on her face. Jack ran across the street. “Buy a pape miss?” He asked, grinning. Callie looked up startled.
“Jack!” He nodded, still grinning. Callie’s face lit up with a smile but it quickly faded. She began walking and glanced nervously all around her. Jack walked alongside of her. “I can’t talk to you now. Not ‘ere.” She said softly. Jack looked at her confused. She took a penny out of her skirt and gave it to Jack, who gave her a paper in return.
“Can ya meet me at da bah tonight?” He asked, desperately. She nodded.
“I’ll try.” She said and continued on her way. Jack smiled to himself and crossed the street again selling the rest of his papers in record time. Callie opened the door to her apartment at 5 on the dot. She was in a good mood, and looked forward to Patrick’s surprise. He was sitting on the couch reading a paper and didn’t look up when she came in. “Hi hon.” She said cheerfully. He turned the paper over but didn’t say a word. She smiled nervously. “Anythin’ interestin’?” She asked, trying to stay calm. He finally looked up.
“Yeah deres an article heah about dis wife dat was cheatin’ on her husband.” He said hints of rage in his voice. Callie set her keys on the coffee table her body shaking. “Dan saw you takin’ to some newsy earlier taday.” She breathed deeply.
“Patrick, he just wanted ta sell me a pape. I ain’t nevah seen him ‘fore. Honest.” She said, looking at him with pleading eyes. He stared at her for a moment then threw the paper down on the coffee table.
“Aw, go clean up, yer a mess an’ we got reservations.” He said gruffly. Callie breathed a sigh of relief and got up quickly. “But Cal, if youse lyin’ ta me…” He trailed off. She nodded and practically ran to the small bathroom to wash her face and change her clothes. She reemerged from the small bathroom a few minutes later and Patrick led her out of the apartment. They walked a few blocks to a small Italian restaurant. Callie’s face lit up when she saw it.
“Patrick!” He turned to her smiling.
“I take it that you approve.” He said and opened the door for her. They were seated at a booth in the back. Callie closed her eyes and breathed in the rich smells of the restaurant. She opened her eyes smiling.
“Can we afford this?” She whispered. Patrick smiled.
“I think we can manage.” He laughed. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He said looking over the menu. Callie opened her menu and grimaced slightly at the prices, she had no idea how they could afford the dinner.
“I have no idea what any of dese foods are. Why don’t you order fer me?” She said, closing her menu. Patrick chuckled slightly and nodded. Callie smiled to herself, completely in love with her husband. ‘He’s so amazing’ she thought. They sat through a wonderful dinner enjoying each others company. They left the small restaurant a few hours and glasses of wine later. They stumbled through the streets towards their home. Callie felt happier than she had in a few years, and was looking forward to meeting Jack at the bar that night. “When do you ‘ave ta be at tha docks?” She asked as they entered the apartment. Patrick smiled suggestively.
“Not till nine.” He said pulling her into the small bedroom. Callie kissed him sweetly while he gently took her shirt off.
Callie sat on the fire escape smoking. She shivered slightly as a breeze hit, she was only wearing Patrick’s shirt. She sighed deeply thinking of him. He had been so tender, sex had been sweeter than it ever had before. She heard him inside and threw the cigarette over the railing. She climbed back into the small room. “Hey hon.” She said changing into her own clothes. He smiled at her and put on his work clothes. He crossed the small distance between them and kissed her. He pulled away quickly and back handed her. She flew backwards into the wall and her eyes clouded over in confusion.
“You’ve been smokin’.” He said, his voice dangerously low. Callie looked at him frantically.
“Wh..hat?” She asked. He smirked at her and slapped her again. Her cheek stung and she held back tears.
“Don’t try dat wit me. I can smell it on ya breath.” He sneered at her. “Ya disgust me.” He said and turned on his heel. Callie dropped to the floor and burst into tears. “An’ would ya clean dis place? It’s a mess.” He yelled before slamming the door shut. Callie picked herself off the floor and began to clean the small apartment. She was scrubbing the kitchen floor an hour later when Patrick stormed in. She stood up quickly and slightly adjusted the green bandana that covered her brown hair. Patrick stumbled into the room and glared at Callie. She flinched and moved carefully across the wet floor towards him.
“Patrick?” She asked timidly. “What’s wrong.” He threw his jacket down onto the couch.
“Nothing’s wrong, why would anyting be wrong?” He asked sarcastically. “I got fired, an’ now cause a dat stupid dinner wese broke.” He spat out at her. “Why tha ‘ell did I let you talk me inta dat stupid dinneah. I swear woman…” he trailed off.
“Patrick, it’ll be ok. We can figuah something out. I got some money saved.” She said, trying to sound cheerful. Patrick stumbled over to her, clearly drunk. He grabbed her arm.
“What? What do ya mean ya got money saved?” Callie stared into his eyes and felt herself tremble with fear.
“I…I got some money from my parents when we got married, an’ ‘ave been savin’ it.” She said softly.
“What an’ ya just fergot ta tell me ‘bout it?” He screamed at her. Callie cowered from his voice. His hand tightened on her arm. “I should neveah ‘ave married year sarry ass.” He growled at her shaking her violently. Callie’s tears burst from her eyes and her bandana fell from her head.
“Patrick, please.” She pleaded. He shoved her away from his body and she slipped on the wet floor. She landed on the tiled kitchen floor with a thud.
“Don’t talk back ta me!” He yelled in a drunken rage. She brought her knees towards her chest and inched backwards towards the cupboards trying to distance herself from his uncontrolled rage. He reached down and pulled her up. “Ya were neveah good fer nothin’!” He screamed pushing her backwards into the wall of cupboards. She slammed her head in the one holding the dishes. Her hair flew in her face and she tasted blood in her mouth where she had bit lip. Her eyes frantically swept the room as she tried to stay on her feet. She looked at her husband whose eyes were cloudy with alcohol.
“Patrick.” She whispered. “Please.” She said beginning to cry. He sneered at her.
“I’ll teach ya ta lie ta me.” He said with an eerie calmness. Callie felt her body begin to tremble. He backhanded her again, and she fell to the floor. He landed one swift kick to her stomach and she cried out in pain as her already bruised rib broke. She crouched on the floor trying to catch her breath. He grabbed a fistful of her russet hair. She winced as he pulled her to her feet by his grip on her hair and twisted her around throwing her into the opposite wall. She hit the wall at full force and crumbled to the ground. She felt her consciousness leave as he landed two swift kicks to her head. Patrick glared at his wife who lay crumpled and broken on the kitchen floor and spat on her before he left the kitchen and fell asleep on the rickety bed in the bedroom. Callie woke up early the next morning. She tried to stand up and her knees gave out and she thumped back onto the ground. She cringed at the pain in her side and head and pulled herself to her feet leaning on the counter. She raised a hand to her head and felt a cut and dried blood matted in her hair. She lifted up her shirt and saw a large bruise on her left side. Her breath caught in her chest when she tried to breathe deeply and she groaned. She slowly walked towards the small bedroom where Patrick was passed out. She shuffled quietly past him and into the small bathroom where she tried to clean herself up. She stared at her reflection in the dirty mirror and cleaned the cut on her head. She had a large bruise under her black eye where Patrick had backhanded her a few times and a large purple bruise on her arm where he had grabbed her. She took some bandages out of the cabinet and, with some difficulty, wrapped her broken rip. She sighed at her reflection in the mirror, she would have to miss work today, she had too many bruises to explain to people. She left the small bathroom and tip toed back to the kitchen to clean up the mess Patrick had made. She glanced at the clock and decided to make breakfast. She was lighting the stove when the first knock came. It startled her and she dropped the match, extinguishing it. She looked up, wondering if she had imagined it. Another knock came, this one louder and her eyes darted towards the bedroom. She heard a growl coming from it, a sure sign that Patrick was waking up. She ran out into the hall and opened the door slightly. “Jack!” She whispered, surprised. Jack’s smile left his face when he saw Callie’s face.
“Callie,” He began.
“Callie!” Patrick yelled from the bedroom. Callie jumped slightly.
“I can’t talk to ya now Jack.” She said frantically. His face was etched with concern.
“Callie, did he hurt ya?” He asked. Callie threw a look towards the bedroom where she heard movement.
“Jack, ya gotta leave.” She hissed softly. He shook his head.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere till ya answer me.” He said defiantly. She looked at him, her marble eyes pleading with his milky blue.
“Callie, who is it?” Patrick yelled from the bedroom.
“Please Jack. Go.” She asked. He didn’t move. “It’s no one Pat.” She called her eyes never leaving Jack’s. “I’ll meetcha at da bah tonight, at eleven.” She said. Jack finally nodded and let Callie shut the door just as Patrick stumbled into view.
“Who was it?” He asked gruffly. She jumped slightly and walked back into the kitchen.
“Just someone lookin’ fer Ole Mistah Riggs. I told ‘em he lived upstairs.” She lied coolly. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a half hour.” She said. Patrick nodded and went into the small bathroom.
That evening after Patrick had left for the pub he went to with boys from work Callie left the small apartment and walked the long walk to Manhattan to meet Jack. She got to the bar around midnight, and was relieved to see that Jack was still there. He stood up when she entered and rushed to her side.
“Tank God, I was so worried.” He said. She looked at him strangely and ordered a drink at the bar. They sat at a small table and Callie drank most of her drink in silence.
“Are ya gonna tell me ‘bout it?” Jack finally asked. Callie looked up at him with feigned surprise.
“Bout what?” She asked sipping on her drink. He sighed and took a gulp of beer and waited.
“It’s nothin’. Just an’ accident.” She said. He laughed a dry laugh.
“Oh, ya “accidentally” “fell” inta his fist?” He said sarcastically. She sighed and changed the subject.
“How was sellin’ taday?” She asked, smiling. He gave her a long hard look and finally answered her question.
“Pretty good. Dere were some good headlines, which always makes me job easieah.” He said. She nodded.
“How’s Mush doin’?” She asked, truly concerned. Jack looked startled that she had remembered him mentioning his good friend who had recently been soaked the other night.
“He’s bettah, got a shineah ta compete wit youse, but bettah.” He said. Callie nodded.
“That’s good.” She said softly. He reached across the table and took her hand. She flinched slightly but didn’t move her hand.
“He has no right ta hit ya.” He said simply. She laughed slightly and finished her drink.
“A coise he does. He’s me husband. An’ I promised God I would love, honor an’ obey ‘im. An’ when I don’t he has every right ta punish me.” She said just as simply. He shook his head.
“No he doesn’t. No one has da right ta hurt anudder person.” He said, rasing his voice a little.
“But I ain’t anudder person, I’se his wife, his property. An’ he has a right ta do what he see’s fit.” She said. “Sides, I’m always provokin’ him an’ such. I’m not a good wife.” She said softly. His face fell.
“Callie, youse a good person. An’ youse don’t deserve dis.” He said gently. He ran a hand through his hair. “I oughta soak da shit outta ‘im fer touchin’ ya.” He said angrily.
“Jack! No! He’s my husband, an’ I love ‘im.” She said honestly. “I love ‘em more dan anythin’. I am so lucky ta ‘ave ‘im, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost ‘im.” She said, more to herself than Jack.
“How can ya love someone who uses ya as a punchin’ bag?” He asked.
“It’s not his fault. I told ya, if I weren’t so outspoken. An’ he’s had it so hard. I mean, he’s young an’ he has ta support me. Neither of us planned on gettin’ married, ya know. But he’s such a good Catholic, he couldn’t let me ‘ave a baby outta wedlock. It woulda been a sin!” She exclaimed and asked the bartender for another drink. She smiled wistfully. “When we first met, he was such a gentleman. An’ so sweet, always takin’ me places. He was poor but knew how ta stretch a dollah. Aftah a few months of datin’ I overstepped my boundaries a bit, an’ he had ta put me in my place. He had a temper an’ sometimes let it get tha best of himself, I brought it out in ‘im. When I told ‘im I was pregnant, he became da biggest sweetie. He didn’t lay a hand on me for 6 months, an’ immediately we got married.” She paused taking a long drink. “But then I lost da baby. We don’t know how, but I lost it. An’ it really hurt ‘im, ya know? He wanted a son so much, an’ I couldn’t give ‘im one. He was only 18 ‘an married. He began ta drink an’ he couldn’t stand ta be around me. I reminded ‘im to much a our son.” She said wiping a tear from her eyes. “But he kept me, he couldn’t get a divorce, being catholic and all. An’ he grew ta love me again. He loves me, an’ I love him. An’ one day we’ll ‘ave a son tagetha.” She finished. Jack just shook his head.
“I don’t understand it.” He said. He scooted his chair closer to hers and took her face gently in his hands. “Callie, I don’t know what made me open up ta ya dat night, ya just seemed so real, an’ afteah all tha bullshit I’se been heahin’ lately…da point is I did. Callie, I know I could be good fer ya, just let me try. Ya desoive so much more dan ‘im.” She shook her head pulling out of his grasp.
“Haven’t ya been listenin’?” She asked. “I love ‘im, an’ I don’t desoive ‘im, but he took me anyway.” She said, believing every word.
“Callie I don’t want ta heah why he does what he does, don’t ya know why simply ain’t good enough?” He said softly. Callie downed the rest of her drink.
“Jack, youse a good friend, but please,” She paused pleading at him with her eyes. He nodded, defeated.
“You’re glass is empty, an’ it’s a hell of a long ways home. I’ll walk ya.” He said rising out of his seat. Callie smiled at him.
“Just ta da bridge.” She said. He nodded.
“Yeah, just ta da bridge.” He said softly and opened the door to the New York street.
The next few months were normal, Patrick had found a new job and the beatings lessened, and eventually stopped. Callie met Jack once a week in Manhattan, and every time he tried to convince her to leave and every time she returned to Patrick’s arms, or at least his fists.
Patrick quietly entered the apartment. He snuck into the bedroom where he thought Callie was, but she wasn’t. He heard sounds from the bathroom and walked over to it. Just as he was about to open the door it swung open. Callie looked up startled. “You okay?” He asked. She nodded.
“Just a bit of mornin’ sickness.” She said, smiling to herself. His eyes opened wide.
“Yer…yer pregnant?” He asked. She nodded, smiling.
“About two months the doc says.” She said, placing a hand on her stomach. “It’s a boy, I can feel it.” She said. Patrick let out a holler and picked Callie up swinging her around. He set her down and kissed her deeply.
“We’re havin’ a baby!” He yelled. Callie laughed at him. “Well come ‘ere.” He said leading her into the small living room. He sat her down on the couch. “I’m goin’ make you breakfast.” He said. Callie smiled.
“Thanks hon, but I ain’t so hungry.” She said timidly. He smiled and sat down next to her pulling her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and they sat on the couch together, enjoying each other’s company for the day.
The next two weeks went terrifically, Patrick was every bit the loving husband, and Callie began to glow with love. She found herself window shopping for baby things every time she was out. She stopped meeting Jack at the bar, vowing not to drink while she was pregnant, thinking if it wasn’t healthy for her it couldn’t be healthy for the baby. She got home late from work one night and was singing softly to herself as she opened the door to the apartment. “Patrick!” She called. “You’ll neveah guess what I saw taday.” She said as she walked into the living room. “Tha cutest cradle…”She stopped short when she saw Patrick in the kitchen. He had a glass in his hand and his eyes were glazed.
“Finally home, whore?” He yelled and threw the glass across the room at her. She ducked and it the wall behind her head, shattering and spraying glass and whiskey onto her. She slowly stood. Patrick crossed the room.
“Patrick, what’s wrong?” She asked.
“What’s wrong?” He yelled, backhanding her. “I’ll tell ya what’s wrong. My stupid wife is what’s wrong!” He screamed and pushed her into the wall.
“Patrick, please, the baby.” She pleaded. He backhanded her again.
“Oh, yes tha baby. Is there really even a baby, or did ya lie ‘bout dat to?” He asked. Callie looked at him, confusion sweeping her face. He threw an envelope in her face, it fell to the floor and a few dollar bills fell from it. She looked back at him, still confused. “Did ya think I wouldn’ find out? Huh? Yer parents sent ya some money fer the baby. An’ youse was gonna hide it from me!” He screamed.
“Patrick, no, I didn’t know. Honest. Patrick, please.” He spit at her.
“Yer a dirty liar an’ a whore. An’ I neavah shoulda married ya. Ya killed our son an’ now ya tink ya can make it up. Well ya can’t!” He yelled and punched her. She fell down and he landed a swift kick to her stomach. She yelped in pain, thinking of the baby.
“Patrick, No!” She cried. He kicked her again. “Patrick, you’ll kill tha baby.” She cried.
“Don’t start wit me. I’se finished with ya.” He said and pulled her to her feet. He slammed her head into the wall and she crumbled against it, falling to the floor. He then walked past her and left the small apartment. Callie sat on the floor for a good ten minutes. Then she pulled herself to her feet and gathered up the money on the floor. She went into the bedroom and gathered up a few of her things shoving them into a bag. Then she climbed out of the window onto the fire escape and down into the alley. She ran the whole way to Manhattan. After wandering around for awhile she found the Newsboys’ Lodging House. She gathered up her courage and entered the tattered building. Kloppmann looked up as the young woman entered the room. He quickly ran to her side. “Miss, are you ok?” He asked.
“Jack Kelley please.” She said before fainting.
Callie opened her eyes slowly and focused on the room around her. She tried to sit up but became instantly nauseous. A bucket was placed by her and she vomited. She wiped her mouth and accepted the glass of water that a hand offered her. She lay back against a pillow and turned her head to the side. She smiled at the sight of Jack. He smiled back and squeezed her hand. She turned her head to the other side and saw the old man who had been at the counter. He took a wet cloth and placed it on her forehead. “Yer lucky miss, very lucky.” He said softly. She swallowed.
“Is, is my baby okay?” She asked timidly. He smiled and nodded.
“The doc says so.” She sighed, relieved. Her head turned back to Jack, who watched her concerned.
“I though everythin’ was gonna be ok, since I was pregnant. But then he hit me…an’ I thought, how can I raise a child wit this man?” She said, tears streaming down her face. Jack bit his lip, and ran a finger down her jaw line.
“Shh…” He said softly.
“I love ‘im, an’ I know I’m not good enough fer ‘im, but my baby…my baby desoives somethin’ bettah.” She said, trying to hold back the tears. Jack nodded.
“Ya both desoive somethin’ bettah.” He said, gently kissing her forehead. “An’ if ya let me try, I’ll show ya why you’re so much more than good enough.” He said, brushing her hair from her face and looking into her eyes. She smiled through her tears and squeezed his hand back.
“I’d like that.”
Good Enough
Hey your glass is empty,
it's a hell of a long way home,
Why don't you let me take you,
it's no good to go alone,
I never would have opened up
but you seemed so real to me,
After all the bullshit I've heard
it's refreshing not to see,
I don't have to pretend,
she doesn't expect it from me
So don't tell me I
haven't been good to you,
Don't tell me I
haven't been there for you
Just tell me why
nothing is good enough
Hey little girl would you like some candy,
your momma said that it's o.k.,
The door is open come on outside,
no I can't come out today,
It's not the wind that cracked your shoulder
and threw you to the ground,
Who's there that makes you so afraid
you're shaken to the bone,
You know I don't understand,
you deserve so much more than this
So don't tell me why
he's never been good to you,
Don't tell me why
he's never been there for you,
And I'll tell you that why
is simply not good enough,
So just let me try
and I will be good to you
Just let me try
and I will be there for you,
I'll show you why
you're so much more than good enough
Tell me what ya think!
Back to da Library
Back to da Lodgin' House