Pie Town - Lynne Hinton [47]
It didn’t matter what her father had told everybody in town about her. She was smart. She was resourceful. She was fast on her feet. And she never had and she never would come crawling back to him for anything. He rode and broke her mother until she was nothing but a sorry drunk, lost and gone forever, but he would never get his hands on Trina. Not ever. Not again.
The boy she rode with, the one in the Ford truck, was inexperienced, and in the end they only made out, with him getting his first blow job and her getting the pleasure of being teacher to a very eager student.
His name was Rob—more like Robbie, she thought. “Little Robbie, high school darling, the apple of his mother’s eye, the pride of his hometown football team.” Trina smiled to think of how the boy was bound to be spoken of at home or among his friends. She thought about his girlfriend, a good Catholic girl who would only let him touch her outside her clothes, the one he had promised that it didn’t matter that she wasn’t ready for sex, the one he would eventually marry and cheat on by the time she was pregnant with their first child. Trina knew all about the Robbies of the world. She had met her fair share of them when she was in high school. A Robbie was the main reason she had left after tenth grade. By the time she had visited California, lived in Phoenix, and worked in Amarillo, she had discovered that there were Robbies everywhere. By the time she was nineteen, they no longer irritated her so much, and in fact they entertained her. After she left Texas for Tucson, she had learned everything there was to know about the Robbies.
Trina rolled over on her side, recalling how he had driven her out to the high school and the field where he played football, the cemetery where he said his baby brother was buried, the path out to a few of the old settlement quarters, mud houses, some of which still stood, and finally to the church, the one place she asked to go, even though she didn’t explain, because she wanted to see where Father George was living.
It appeared as if he wanted her to see how easy it was for him to get inside the sanctuary. He had been an altar boy, he explained, and knew where they hid the key. She could see his plan. He intended to take her around back and let her inside, but she really wasn’t that impressed with the church or the boy who guaranteed her he could break in. She didn’t want to see the sanctuary or steal the communion wine. When they pulled up and she saw the station wagon with the driver’s door opened and the headlights on, it became clear, at least to her, why she had wanted him to drive her up there. She wanted to check on the priest. She knew he had gotten drunk on the punch. She knew he didn’t realize what he was drinking. And she was concerned. She wanted to make sure he’d gotten home safely.
She got out of Robbie’s truck, turned off the pastor’s car lights, and quietly closed the door, hoping not to wake him. Robbie was stupid enough to get out as well and stand right beside the window, probably near his bed, and talk loud enough for him to hear. Trina had to pull him away from the house and back over toward the church. She promised he’d get the blow job only if he came away from where the priest was sleeping.
Robbie was happy to oblige at that point. He led her around back, located the key, found the bottle of wine. She drank most of it, and he had the religious experience of his young life. Trina smiled when she realized that Robbie would never think of church in the same way again. She pulled the covers over her head. She figured Robbie would be back at her door soon enough, and she would have to deal with him and maybe even his girlfriend at a later time. For now, she just wanted to get back to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
She was still asleep,” Roger