Trombone Girl: The Josey Miller Story

Prologue

Josey didn’t know what woke her. It was either the thunder of the approaching summer storm, or the sound of her mother yelling at her father. Most days, her parents barely spoke to one another. But now, she heard their angry voices.

Josey was the tallest girl in her fourth-grade class, so she crouched to make herself small before tiptoeing down the stairs. She stepped over the creaky third step from the top and hid in the shadows of the stairwell. Josey heard Mama’s voice.

You got all the answers, Carl.

I know stealing isn’t the answer, Dad said. How could you do this, Rebecca?

I needed the money.

You got to go to the police.

Josey heard a stranger’s voice – a deep, gravelly growl she’d never heard before.

We ain’t turning ourselves in, Carl, he said, his voice thick with contempt.

Rebecca, what happened?

Her mother’s voice faltered. It’s like this. I owed Jimmy Martin some money for –

I know what Jimmy Martin sells, Rebecca.

Jimmy told us that old man Gillespie was in the hospital. Jimmy said, if me and Kyle broke in and took the guns and brought them to him, he’d call the debt paid. Kyle and me went out there and the house wasn’t locked, but Gillespie was home. He shot at us and Kyle shot back. It was self-defense, Mama said.

Did you call an ambulance? Dad asked.

They track those calls. I was afraid.

So, no. We didn’t stop to call no ambulance or do the supper dishes, neither, Kyle said.

Josey smelled tobacco smoke.

Put that cigarette out, Dad said.

I think this is the perfect time to smoke.

Josey heard the restrained anger in Dad’s voice. I said, don’t smoke in my house. Rebecca, you’ve got to call the police. He could be hurt.

No ambulance can help him now, the man said.

Carl, you’re my husband. You’re supposed to help me.

I can’t anymore, Rebecca. By coming here, you put all of us at risk, especially our daughter.

Josey? What do I care about her? I got my own problems, Mama said.

Get your things together and get out. I’m calling the police.

No, Carl, I don’t think so, the man said. This is her house, too. I think we’ll stay here tonight.

Don’t threaten me with that gun again. You may have shot Gillespie, but I ain’t an old man, running off somebody who came to rob me.

Josey heard a loud crash. Her mother screamed. Josey bolted down the stairs. She saw the stranger shove Dad up against the wall. She glimpsed the black metal of a gun in his hand. Dad grabbed for the pistol. The gun fired. Dad grabbed the man’s right wrist and beat it against the wooden door frame. Josey heard bone break. She saw her father swing back and punch the man in the face. He landed in a heap on the floor, but jumped up and rushed Dad, ramming him into a picture on the wall. Glass shattered from the impact.

Josey turned away from the living room and ran into the kitchen. She grabbed the phone off the hook and dialed 9-1-1.

Bennett County EMS. What is your emergency?

There’s a man here with a gun. He and my dad are fighting.

Are you in danger?

Yes, ma’am. I don’t know what to do –

Mama yanked the phone out of Josey’s hands and slammed it down on the receiver. Josey looked up. Mama slapped her across her face. Josey fell back into the cabinet and slumped onto the floor.

Now, they’ll send the sheriff, her mother yelled from above her. What’d you go and do that for?

To help Daddy, Josey mumbled. She couldn’t think. Had she done the wrong thing?

Mama bolted from the room. Josey slowly stood, leaning on the cabinet. Her shoulder ached. Her left cheek stung as though it was on fire. When she limped into the living room, she saw Dad empty the pistol, the bullets falling to the floor. Both men panted. Kyle sat on the floor. Hatred flashed in his eyes.

You’d turn your best friend in? he asked.

High school was a long time ago, and you’re some kind of friend, bringing this trouble here. Rebecca, you got ten minutes before I call the law.

We ain’t even got that. Josey already called them. Mama ran up the stairs

Dad turned and saw Josey. His eyes widened.

I’m sorry, Daddy, she said. She ran and threw her arms around him.

He pulled her into him. I didn’t know you were down here. Are you hurt?

No, Daddy.

Carl, we need gas money, Kyle said.

Josey had never seen this man before. He wore dirty blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and a green John Deere ball cap. His eyes, sunken into his angular face, twitched. His teeth were brown. His skin was pasty white, and he had sores on his cheeks above his scraggly beard. He couldn’t sit still. He was constantly moving his legs or arms. He dug at his skin with dirty fingernails.

Dad turned back to face him. Josey saw his expression change in a heartbeat to one of contempt. Dad, who towered over this stranger, was muscular and tan from working in the sun. The black stubble on his cheeks matched his coal black hair. His brown eyes narrowed.

I don’t have money to give you, and if I did, I wouldn’t, Dad snarled.

At least give me my gun back.

No. You’re not hurting anybody else.

I was your best friend.

Go wait in your truck, best friend. I don’t want you in my house.

Kyle got to his feet. He glared at Dad and left.

Josey ran upstairs to her parents’ bedroom. Mama’s long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing her delicate, fine-boned neck as she pulled clothes out of her dresser and threw them into a suitcase. When she heard Josey come into the room, she looked up from her task and scowled. Her green eyes blazed with rage. Her petite slender fingers shook. She had dark circles under her eyes with tiny lines around her mouth and eyes.

Mama?

Don’t bother me now, Josey. I’m busy.

She finished throwing clothes into her blue suitcase, the one Grandma had given Mama years ago. Mama grabbed her jewelry box and dumped the contents on top of the clothes.

Josey hadn’t seen her mother for a few days. Sometimes, she slept for days at a time, and Josey knew better than to wake her. But even when Mama was awake, she was gone. Josey didn’t know where. Just gone.

Josey heard the shrill wail of sirens. Mama looked up, her face like that of a cornered animal. She slammed the blue suitcase shut and fastened the two little locks on the front. She pushed past Josey, but then stopped.

Mama spun around. She stepped forward and grabbed Josey’s face. Her ragged fingernails dug into the soft skin of Josey’s chin.

You did this, girl. You brought them down on me.

I didn’t mean to, Mama.

I’ll never forgive you, Josey.

She released her and ran down the stairs. Josey’s heart raced. She couldn’t breathe. She chased after Mama, but she was gone. Josey hurried outside and saw Dad standing on the patio. Josey started to follow Mama, but Dad grabbed her. He pulled her into him, wrapping his long arms around Josey’s chest.

No, Josey. Let her go.

The wind blew her long black hair. Raindrops felt like pinpricks on her skin.

Kyle’s pickup roared to life. He backed away from the house, threw it in gear, and raced down the driveway, spinning chunks of gravel and rain-soaked mud. The blue lights of the deputy cars crisscrossed the black sky. Their sirens shrieked in the night.

The pickup headed for the main dirt road, but the first sheriff’s cruiser cut it off. The truck veered to the left. It shot off through the pasture, crashing through the wooden fence. It almost made it to the road when the second police car pulled in front. Kyle stopped and shoved it in reverse.

Stop. Turn off your engine, a voice said, over a loudspeaker.

But the pickup didn’t stop. It barreled between the police cars. The second police cruiser pulled backed onto the road and blocked the pickup again. The pickup stopped.

By the dim glow of the street light and the occasional bursts of lightning, Josey saw the deputies with their guns drawn advance on the pickup. They yelled at Rebecca and Kyle to get out of the vehicle. Kyle flung his door open and bolted. One of the deputies holstered his gun and chased him. He tackled him to the ground. Rebecca got out of the truck with her hands up. The second deputy yanked her hands behind her back to cuff her. He pushed her face first to the ground.

Josey’s body shook with her sobs. She ran to the horse barn. She slid open Ruby’s stall door enough to squeeze through and shut it behind her. The mare nickered a greeting. Josey squatted in the corner. She covered her face with her arms. Ruby stepped over to her. Josey felt the mare’s warm breath on her cheek and smelled sweet hay on her breath.

The pine shavings felt rough against her bare legs. Josey pulled her arms around her knees. She rocked back and forth, her thoughts jumbled like a mouse’s nest. Did she do the wrong thing to call the police? But what if that man hurt Dad? She couldn’t let that happen. Mama sounded so angry. What if she never forgave her?

The light in the barn came on. Josey sat still, afraid.

Josey, are you in here?

She wanted to be silent, to stay hidden, but she didn’t.

I’m here, Daddy.

He turned and walked back to Ruby’s stall.

Dad opened the door to the stall and handed Josey a quilt. I’ve been looking for you. Those deputies said to give you this. I’m gonna talk to them awhile. I’ve known both of them for years. In the morning, we’ll go down to the sheriff’s office, and they’ll take your statement about what went on here tonight.

Is Mama gone?

Yes, and Kyle with her. Good riddance, he said, running his hand across his face. Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.

Is it my fault?

Come here, Dad said.

She got up out of the corner and went to him. He knelt down, put his arms around her, and hugged her close. He pulled away and took her small face in his big hands. She felt the calluses on his palms against her cheeks.

Josey, none of this is your fault. None of it. Now, make yourself a nest with your mare. That’s probably as good a place as any for you to be. I need to talk to these deputies. I’ll come back and get you.

Josey walked back into the stall, shutting the door behind her. Dad turned off the overhead light but turned on the light in the tack room. It cast a soft yellow glow in the dark barn. Raindrops tapped on the metal roof. She opened up the quilt and stretched out on it, pulling the other half over her. Her mind replayed what had just happened over and over. None of it seemed real. Josey yawned, feeling so tired. Her eyes closed.

Chapter 1

Two years later.

Josey stared at her reflection in the mirror. The buttons of her shirt puckered in the middle, but only a little. She liked the cap sleeves but the hem felt tight, binding her upper arms. She thought black was a good color, though. Slimming. That’s what all the magazines said.

She’d owned the paisley skirt a long time, since before Mama had left, but it still fit. Mostly. It was a little short and a little tight around her waist, but the black shirt hung low so nobody could tell. Josey thought Mama would like it that she was wearing the skirt she’d bought her.

Josey! her daddy yelled. They’re gonna be here any minute.

Josey ran a brush through her long hair. Why did it have to be so black? Why couldn’t she have blond hair like Mama?

Pictures framed the outer edge of her mirror. Josey reached up and straightened her favorite photo – herself, as