Why, Georgia

Richard McBride use to be a good man. He would wake up early and iron his work uniform before setting out his mothers medicine in her pill box and driving to the station. With his friendly and upbeat demeanor, Richard McBride was well liked at the town police station. Out on the town he hated giving out parking tickets. He would always try and encourage the drunks to look deep within their hearts and find the path the Lord Almighty had set for them.

On a chilly May day, Richard McBride had offered to spend the day filling up the station cars with gas. With the pump going about its business Richard sat on the hood of the car and crossed his arms over his chest staring down the main road of Kelly, Georgia. That chilly May day changed Richard McBride's life. On that particular day, Richard McBride met Nancy Harris.

Nancy was a pretty young thing with wide blue eyes, bleach blonde hair, and a sense of recklessness that had gotten her fiery self left at a gas station in the middle of no where. On any given day, you would find Nancy hanging around with "the wrong crowd". Tall bikers with unkempt beards and tattoos the reflected exactly how many women they had been with. It started in high school when she fooled around with the town bad boy behind the bleachers and ended days before graduation when she jumped on the back of a strangers motorcycle. That stranger had promised excitement, adventure, and most of all a ticket out of the run down ex mill town she had spent her whole life in. She dreamed of open roads and big blue skies and on this particular May day she dreamed of going home.

This stranger had pulled into the gas station in the middle of Kelly, Georgia and encouraged Nancy to head inside and grab a water or two for the road. It would take a moment and then they'd be back to hitting the pavement. Nancy strolled inside, paid for two waters, and on her way back watched as the stranger rode far far away from her.

Having left home with the clothes on her back and a dream of escape, Nancy was left with nothing. It took a while to set it, but once she realized she was over a hundred miles from the life she ran away from with no way to get anywhere she sat down on the curb and began to cry.

On this day, as Richard McBride was waiting for the car to fill up, he noticed a dramatically upset girl sitting on the side of the road sobbing and wandered over to try and console her.

Less than a year later Richard McBride found himself down on one knee with his mothers ring in his shaking hands asking Nancy Harris to be his.

By the time the two were wed, the town sheriff had stepped down, McBride had stepped up, and Nancy was expecting their first child, Charlie.

Life was good in the McBride household. Richard loved his wife, loved his town, and loved his church. Every Sunday, Richard would help his mother dress and the three McBride's would drive down to church for the 7:30 am service.

Soon, baby Charlie was born and Richard didn't think his life could get better. Until his mother passed away. Knowing his mother was on her way out for the majority of his adult life, Richard tried to put on a brave face but could frequently be found at the town bar. Without missing a beat, the new sheriff started being called out of the office, and more importantly, out of his warm bed, to take care of domestic disputes that could've easily been handled by any one of the younger officers.

Though Charlie was the light of Nancy's young life, she realized soon after having her first child that she was trapped in a box. Just like her mother. Just like her mother's mother. She began to dream of life on the back of a strangers motorcycle. No responsibilities, no cares, just Nancy and the great expanse of the US. Nancy found herself pregnant with her second child. With each passing day she reminded her young son how much she loved him and packing her bags.

Days after the McBride's second child was born, Richard was called into the station in the middle of the night over some teenagers breaking into the convenience store over a few bags of chips. When he got home Nancy was no where to be found, her spot on the bed still warm, and the safe box full of rainy day money completely empty.

That night, Richard McBride did not go after his wife. He didn't look for a note. He poured himself a little too much whiskey and drank until he passed out.

The following morning, Richard McBride woke up to an empty bed with a pounded headache and two screaming children.

Every night after his wife left Richard McBride poured himself a little too much to drink and every morning he woke up with two screaming children and a pounding headache.

As the years went on Richard became Rick.

As Charlie McBride grew older he spent his time making sure his younger sister was without wanting. Consistently making sure she had enough to eat when their father would settle for a meal of alcohol, alcohol, and more alcohol. Charlie would help Georgia dress in the morning and make sure she was brushing her teeth before she went to bed.

One particular may evening Rick McBride had taken to the new shipment of whiskey at the town bar a little too hard and stumbled through the front door of the house sloppy and belligerent. Charlie ushered his sister outside the back of the house and told her to climb the tree until she could get to her room. The screen door slammed against the frame just as Rick entered the kitchen.

"What did I tell you about slamming doors boy?" The vein on Rick's temple pulsed with each slurred syllable.

"I'm sorry dad." Charlie reached for the dirty dishes and tried to avoid his angry fathers gaze.

"Damn right you are boy. But I'll give you something to be sorry about." Rick swung, his fist making a clean contact with the side of Charlies face. Charlie went down and stayed down. Rick stumbled out of the kitchen and passed out face first on the couch.

That night Georgia got down on her knees and pulled out her bible. She said every prayer she could think of and flipped through the pages trying to find some way to help her family.

Two weeks later Charlie left.

Georgia waited outside of the steps of the high school until the sun fell behind the trees for her brother before walking home alone.

The house was empty and Charlies room was as he had left it save for a small, chicken scratch note with a phone number. Georgia crumpled up the note and threw it in the back of her closet.

Rick McBride assumed his daughter was as reckless and awful as his runaway wife. Rick assumed his daughter was dumb and clumsy and never could never be bothered.

Georgia McBride was many things. She was sharp as a tack, adventurous to the point of carelessness, but most of all she was not who her father thought she was.