Covered in Coal (2 page)

7 Years Later

John Simon is a well-respected man. CEO of Simon Energy Incorporated, he is a pillar in the coalfield communities. From charitable donations, school scholarship programs named in his honor, he is the face of Williamstown, Kentucky. But he wasn’t always the rich, successful man that he is today.

Daddy started working in the coal mines shortly after he graduated high school. In Eastern Kentucky, it’s kinda just what every man does, they work in the coal mines. Daddy worked his way up fast, from a general laborer, to shift foreman, and every job in between in just a few years. He knew every job at the mines, inside and out.  He worked his ass off, working every extra shift he could, saving every extra dime he made, in hopes that one day, he could buy his own coal mines.  At age twenty five, he made that dream happen. 

By chance, he came across a small mines that had fifty plus years of coal left to mine. The owner had fallen on hard times due to bad investing, and couldn’t afford to keep it operating. Daddy bought the mines for a steal. He had literally stumbled upon black gold. Simon Energy started out as one small mines, but Daddy built his empire up to five coal mines around the tri-state area. He has operated his coal empire for the last thirty-three years through blood, sweat, and sheer determination for success. Old man done pretty good for himself, if ya ask me. Poor Kentucky coal miner to a self-made millionaire on the Fortune 1000.

But it’s because of the damn mines, that Daddy is dying. Continuous exposure to the harsh toxins and chemicals of the mines has poisoned his lungs with cancer. The doctor has only given Daddy a few days, at best. The cancer has become extremely aggressive in its final stage.  Apparently, they have known for about the last eighteen months, but he refused to let Savannah call me. He told her that when I walked away, it was for good. Best for the family, and the company. How endearing. Should have known that even on his deathbed, Daddy would still be a stubborn old ass.

It’s been seven years since I have been home, since my life changed dramatically. When I left Kentucky, my intentions were to never look back. Yet, here I am, traveling home to say my goodbyes to my dying father. I’m not sure what state of mind he is in, from all of the medication he is on. But I just pray that we can make peace with our animosity.

I crank up the stereo as loud as I can, just trying to stay awake. The drive from South Carolina to Kentucky is long and nerve wracking. So much construction, and idiotic tourists who have no clue how to drive. I swerve to the passing lane, laying hard on the horn at the other driver ... Ohio tags, pfft,
figures! I just need to make it to Kentucky quickly.

I look out over the Blue Ridge Mountains, and think back to simpler times. I can remember traveling this very road as a kid, when we would go to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina each year for vacation. Just Daddy, Savannah and me. Daddy owned a huge beach house, just feet from the water. Each morning, Savannah and I would wake up to watch the sunrise, and the dolphins
swimming in the ocean. Daddy would sit with us in the sand, and build sandcastles, toss Frisbee, then take us for ice cream up on the boardwalk. I smile at the sweet memories. But I can’t help but wonder how many times he came to Myrtle Beach in the last seven years?  Did he even think maybe I was here, or did he even care? He didn’t care. Flipping through the stations, I shake the heart wrenching thoughts from my mind, and try to focus on the drive.

Finally, I pass a sign that reads Welcome to Kentucky Unbridled Spirit. I laugh at the thought. When I left Kentucky, I felt free. Free from my Daddy’s controlling ways. Free from the heartache Colton left me with. I was unbridled. I had the world at my feet, ready to start my new life. I found my way to Myrtle Beach with ease. It only made sense to run to my home away from home. Another familiarity to comfort myself with. I rented a little cottage a few blocks from the beach, and got a job waiting tables at The Pier. I was doing well on my own. I felt free, happy, and proud.  I made a few friends, but worked as many hours as I could just so I could harvest a nest egg of funds. There wasn’t much time for a social life.

But working, every day on the oceanfront pier, encountering all of the love struck couples only caused my heart to bleed more.  I missed Colton with every breath I took, but I knew he didn’t want me. And learning that I was carrying his child would only push him farther away from me. Even if he did have a change of heart, he wouldn’t be able to find good work here in South Carolina. He had no college degree. All he knew was football, and coal mining. So I decided to just let him be happy in life and I would eventually move on with my own. After all, I would only bring shame to my Daddy and his company by telling Colton the truth. My heart was breaking, but I had to press on.

Unbridled my ass ... they still controlled me, even from nine hundred miles away.

But even in my darkest hour, when I needed them the most, they weren’t there for me. One night, I had to close. It was late, and the constant flow of life from the boulevard had faded into the night.  The parking lot was dark and empty. As I approached my car, a thick, strong arm wrapped around my waist from behind. That was all I could remember the next evening, when I woke up in the hospital. Beaten, battered and raped. I was beaten so severely, I couldn’t even recognize myself in the mirror. I sat for hours with investigators, going over the same questions, continually. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember anything about my attacker. No scent, no voice, no face.

My attacker took so many things from me that night. My security, my dignity, my pride, and my baby. Torn in anguish and loss, I felt shriveled to the size of a raisin. I had absolutely nobody to turn to in my desperate meltdown. I felt so insignificant, as if I could just simply disappear, fade into my own existence, and no one would even notice. I let the depression consume me, eating me alive from the inside out, gnawing me to the bone. I felt so ashamed that I couldn’t protect myself, or my baby from such violence.

Eventually, my depression, turned to anger. I wanted to scream, cry, hit something, someone. I was so enraged with disgust, and resentment. I often wondered how I didn’t spontaneously combust from the raw emotion that dominated me. I thrived off of my own anger. But that same anger scared me. I didn’t like the person I was becoming. I missed the old, happy Carly Jo, and was determined to bring her back.

Instead of staying down, when life be
at my ass to the ground, I got up, made life my bitch, and fought back! I was determined to be happy. I was determined to be something, someone. Not just another statistic. I refused to let rape turn me into a scared little girl. So, I decided to go back to school.

I enrolled at Coastal Carolina University, in Conway, South Carolina. Instead of taking the planned path of becoming a lawyer, I got my degree in Business Management. In three years, instead of four. Determination and fear both fueled my success. I figured I could find a job in any market with a business degree. Hell, I lived in Myrtle Beach, there were tons of opportunities. I got very lucky in accepting a part time position as an evening assistant manager at a small hotel on Ocean Boulevard, and eventually worked my way up to Manager of Operations.

In the last seven years, I’ve had every negative emotion a girl could have, I just had to stand tall and remember I was a damn Simon. I had to learn to become that girl on fire, again, and live. Strong, independent and proud. But one thing I have learned through the years, is that men will always let me down, and the only person who can protect me, is myself.

The lights are bright and blinding, and the smell of disinfectant is simply overwhelming, as I walk through the halls of the cancer center. My daddy has spent the last month of his life here, fighting a battle he cannot win. The doctors have given up hope of his prognosis, so now we just have to take each minute for what it is, and pray that the good Lord will take him peacefully home.

I text Savannah, just after I park the car to tell her I’m on my way up. That was twenty minutes ago. I am just having such a hard time taking this step. The thoughts of seeing my Daddy after seven years, especially in the state he is in, rips my heart apart. I blame him for the way my life has changed. But I know I must make peace with him, so that I can finally lay my inner demons to rest. I know if I don’t make peace, and he leaves this world, the hurt and anger may just consume me entirely.

As I make my way off the elevator, I notice Savannah is talking with a nurse at the nurse’s station. She looks different than the last time I had seen her over seven years ago. Her long brown curls are now cut into a short bouncy bob. She is slightly chubbier, and has traded in her designer jeans and stiletto heels for comfy sweat pants and running shoes.  She is still gorgeous, but now she looks more like a mom. I lay my hand on her shoulder, and she startles. I can tell she has been crying, her cheeks are flush and her sparkling green eyes are shocked red with veins. I pull her tight into my embrace and comfort her. She has been side by side with Daddy since he found out he was dying. I wish she would have called sooner. I could have taken some of the burden off of her shoulders.

“Hey, settle down, and tell me what’s happening. Why are you so upset? Is Daddy ... Savannah, please tell me I made it in time?” My voice is barely a whisper as the realization hits me.  I may be too late.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Savannah replies, “No, he’s still kicking.  Old fart is tough as nails, I’m just worried about so much. He hasn’t had a good day, been sleeping for the better part. It seems that is all he ever does anymore really. His vitals are low. He’s just fading away it seems.” She pauses, catching her breath. “I haven’t told him you were coming just yet, but I think he is ready to make peace with you, Carly. He leads on that he is fine with you being gone for so long, but I can see the hurt in his eyes. I just hope he doesn’t get too upset, the doctors say his heart is weakening from all of the treatments he has undergone.”

“You should have called me sooner, like when y’all found out he was sick. I would have come home then. Are the doctors sure there is nothing else they can do?”

“No, they have exhausted all of the treatment that his body can handle. He has went through countless rounds of chemotherapy and radiation. They even tried an experimental drug, but the cancer was just too advanced.”

We walk together, hand in hand, as she leads me to Daddy’s room.

“I'll give you some time alone with him. I'll be back shortly, gotta go pick the kids up from school. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Savannah asks, stopping in front of Daddy's room. I nod, and paste a fake smile on my face.

“Remember, take it easy on him, Carly. His time is short, so make it special.” She gives me a hug, then turns on her heels to leave. Taking a deep breath, I turn the cold, steel knob.

I walk in the sterile, cold room and notice Daddy is sleeping. The monitor beeps continuously, checking his vitals.  I lean over the bed, and softly kiss his forehead. I can feel the tears prickle behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them find their escape. I need to be strong for my daddy.

He doesn’t look the same. The cancer has taken his jet black hair and only left behind a few small strands sporadically on top of his head. He has lost at least thirty pounds, and his eyes sit deep within his face. Sitting beside of his bed, I lace my fingers through his, squeezing gently as I start my apologies.

“Daddy, I’m here.” I whisper, struggling to find my voice. “I wish I hadn’t been so stubborn to stay away all those years. But I get my bull head from you, ya know. As soon as Savannah called me, I packed a bag and came home. Daddy, I should have been here all this time, fighting this battle with you. I’ve missed you. I’m so sorry.” Daddy starts to shift, as he opens his eyes. He looks confused at first, then smiles. He gives my hand a tight squeeze, then reclines in his bed, so I can give him a hug.

“Little girl, I never thought I’d lay eyes on your beautiful face again, but I am so glad you’re here.” A single tear runs down his face. His words are thick and husky behind the oxygen mask.

“Daddy, how bad is it?” I know Savannah has told me all of this already, but it just doesn’t seem real, not without hearing it from him, first. He pulls the oxygen mask down his face, so I can understand his words. 

“I don’t know when, princess, but the man upstairs will be calling me home soon, so let’s sit, and catch up. I’m sure we ain’t got much time. I don’t want you to worry though. I made things right with my maker. I’m not proud of the life I’ve led, or the things I did, most specifically to you. I was just always too ornery to do the right thing I guess.” He pulls the oxygen mask back to his face, as he pants for the air his lungs deny him. I wrap my arms around his neck, not concerned with the tubes and wiring connected between Daddy and the machines. I hug him tight, like it’s the last time I will ever get to hug him. Who knows, really?

I rest my head against Daddy’s chest and spill all of the emotions that have been building me since I got Savannah’s call.

“Don’t cry, princess, it’ll be alright.”

Sitting back down, I dry my eyes, and reach Daddy a drink of orange juice. I grab the remote and shut the TV off. I know he has questions, so I tell him about my life while he catches his breath. Daddy talks about the mines, and the grandbabies. It takes him a little longer to carry on his side of the conversation because he struggles for air. He tries to keep the oxygen mask on, but he can sense the thickness of his words. So when he can, he takes it off to talk, sure to take his time. He inhales the oxygen mask deeply when he has lost his breath, which is often. But when he can’t he leaves it on his face, and I do my best to make out the words.

“I swear to ya, baby girl, those kids keep me young. Every day they come runnin’ through that door, and jump up on the bed squealin’ over their big day at school. They’re always bringin’ me drawins’ and finger paintins’ to cover the walls with.” He says, pointing around the room. 

“That Brailee, I tell ya she is just like you when you were a girl, spunky and all out attitude. Such a drama queen, that girl. But she has her papaw wrapped around her little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky.

“Then Braden, he’s all boy. He’s quiet, but smart. He loves the coal mines. He always gets so excited to   see the coal run off the belt, into the pile. He swears the family business will be his one day. Heck he could probably run it now, he knows so much about it and he’s only six! They really bring a lot of joy to me Carly.  Speakin’ of grandchildren, where,” Daddy trails off just as the door bursts open and in comes two little ones hopping around the room, arms flailing, with ear piercing shrills. They’re just filled with excitement and talking so fast I can barely make heads or tails of what they are carrying on about.

“Alright y’all let’s settle down, you know not to come in this hospital room acting so rambunctious!  Your papaw don’t feel well. Now, come sit and meet your Auntie Carly!” Savannah instructs the twins and I watch as the excitement falls from their faces when they notice the stranger in the room. Brailee walks over to me first.

I open my arms to pull her into a hug, but she surprises me by climbing up on my lap. I give her hugs and tell her I’m happy to finally meet her. She smiles her toothless grin, and says, “well, where ya been all my life? I’m six already, and I’m just meetin’ ya!”

We all laugh at her brazenness. Yep, just like me.

Braden makes his way over, leans into me and says quietly, “Hey, Auntie Carly”. I hug him back, quickly, before he hurries himself back over to Savannah.

“Alright y’all, I brought dinner. Carly Jo’s favorite, fried chicken with all the fixins'. Kids, go wash up, and sit down at the table, so we can all eat.” Savannah tells us all in her motherly voice. I never pegged her for the domesticated type, but it fits her well.

We all eat together and enjoy the rest of the evening reminiscing over stories of when Savannah and I were just kids. Daddy’s face is lit up with smiles all evening, and I can tell that he is cherishing these very moments. He seems at ease, and looks like the worry has been erased from his face. I think he feels whole again.

The kids are finally wearing down, so Savannah tells them to give hugs and kisses, and say goodnight. They fuss a little, but Daddy tells them to be good, and they can come back tomorrow, but not to forget the donuts when they visit next time. I help Savannah wrangle up her rug rats, before telling Daddy goodbye.

“I’ll be back bright and early in the morning to see ya, I want ya to get some rest, and don’t give these nurses too hard of a time, ya hear me, old man?” I laugh, trying to brighten his spirits.

“Ah, go on home and get some sleep, and don’t you worry about this old man, I’ll be just fine.” I kiss him lightly on the head one last time, before leaving.

We arrive at Savannah’s house just before dark. The twins are so excited that they get to have a sleepover with Auntie Carly. After filling their tummies up with cookies and ice cream, I help Savannah bath them, and get them ready for bed. They both insist that I read them a bedtime story, which somehow turns into a pillow fight between the three of us.

Finally, we all say goodnight, and I tuck them in as tight as a bug in a rug, as Daddy used to tell us. Shew, I never realized how much energy six year old kids had. These two are like the eye of a tornado, two miniature walking disasters. But dang if they ain’t a barrel of fun.

Savannah is on the phone, while folding laundry, so I find the guestroom on my own and decide to change into some comfy sweats, before heading back downstairs to catch up with my sister for a while.

On my way downstairs I notice the pictures lining the walls of the happy family I’ve been erased from over the years. There are pictures hung of Daddy, Brailee, Braden, Savannah and Josh. There is even a picture of my momma, Elizabeth with Savannah’s family taken at Christmas. I can’t help the pain I feel, knowing that I’ve missed so much.

Momma was rarely ever around for us, growing up. Daddy raised us, while Momma moved on with her new husband, Garrett, living the good life in Florida. She’s happy, it seems.

Savannah creeps up on me while I gaze from picture to picture, taking in all of the happy moments they have shared. “I see you made it out of the twins’ room alive! Come on, let’s go relax, and have a drink. I think we’ve both had a long day,” Savannah says, pulling me down the stairs, into the kitchen. She pulls two wine flutes and a bottle of Moscato from the cabinet. Pouring the bubbly, glistening liquid in the flute, she slides the glass my way, and motions with her head towards the living room. “Go put your feet up, while I dig through my emergency chocolate stash!”

I laugh, because she has always been the one to hide her goodies. I figured she would have grown out of that habit by now. Good to see some things never change.

It feels good to sit down and put my feet up, after an emotion filled day. Savannah comes traipsing through the room with her wine glass in one hand and bowl full of goodies in the other. Plopping down on the couch, she starts her inquisition.

“So, it’s been what? Seven years, and I still don’t know why you left. Daddy still refuses to talk about it.” She glares at me with her fiery green eyes. Savannah has always been the happy go lucky, bubbly sister. But she is also full of determination, and once she has a thought in mind, she sets out to achieve it. “So what caused you to walk away?”

Sighing, I know I might as well bite the bullet, and tell her what she wants to know, because otherwise I’ll never see a moment of peace while I’m here. I don’t want to spend the time with my family to be spoiled with tension, swirling the air around us. But I don’t think I’m brave enough to tell that part of my story just yet.

“Savannah, it’s all a long story. I’m just not comfortable talking about it. I appreciate your respect, when I say that some things are best left alone. The last seven years of my life have been far from easy. But the battles I’ve fought, have been just that, MY battles. What I choose to share with anyone is my decision. I’m here because I don’t want Daddy to die, with our relationship hanging by a thread. I came to make amends, and spend what time we have left together.”