A few seconds later he pulled the car up in front of the porch and
parked. I watched through the screen to see what would happen next.
Uncle Butch and Bob got out of the station wagon and stretched.
Then Uncle Butch pulled a white bucket out from the trunk while Bob removed his
fishing pole.
“Your daddy sure is a good fisherman,” Bob said.
“He’s not my daddy,” I said, but no one heard me.
“See you later, Butch,” Bob said and then went
into his cottage.
After Bob left, Uncle Butch reached inside
the bucket. With a swoosh, he held up a stringer of fish. “I got dinner.”
“Daddy’s home and he has some fish,” Paige called out to her
mother excitedly.
Aunt Lori walked over to the door. “Well, I’ll be.” She had a
genuine smile. I wanted to run to her and hide from The Monster, but I was
frozen.
I looked at the fish, each one strung from gill to mouth on the
thin rope, spots of blood on their bodies and running from their mouths. Even
though there was a screen between us, I could still see their dead hopeless
eyes.
“You’ll have to clean them. I don’t want to have anything to do
with all that mess.” A strand of Aunt Lori’s blond hair fell across the side of
her face and she brushed it off.
“It’s just a little blood and guts. It won’t kill you.” He walked
to the picnic table in the muddy yard and set the fish down. Aunt Lori sighed
and went into the kitchen while I continued watching Uncle Butch.
He walked back over to the car and got out his
tackle box, then went back over to the fish. He pulled out a filet knife. It
gleamed in the sunlight. “Come here, girls. I’ll show you how to clean a fish.”
I remained a chameleon, blending into the background to avoid The Monster that
had replaced Uncle Butch.
The screen door banged shut as Paige ran to her dad. He put the
knife down and hugged her. Wendy stayed on the porch with me.
He looked at us. “Wendy, bring me some newspaper would you,
honey?”
“Are you coming?” Wendy asked me.
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” she said. She smiled a genuine
smile. Not the fake Sympathy Smile Aunt Lori gave me. “Sorry about your dad
too.” She said so much without saying anything at all. She seemed smarter than
a thirteen year old. Smarter than both Aunt Lori and Uncle Butch.
At that moment, I realized that I loved her like a sister.
“Thanks.”
Wendy reluctantly grabbed a pile of old newspaper and went to her
dad.
“You don’t want to learn how to gut a fish, Chris?” He gave me The
Stare Down. His eyes searched mine, like he was waiting for me to say
something. Something about last night. It took me a few seconds, and then I
realized that it wasn’t just a look, but a challenge. Would I say anything
about last night?
“No. I don’t want to see any blood or guts.”
“Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing,” Uncle Butch said.
Wendy and Paige shrugged and turned their attention to Uncle
Butch, who reached into the bucket and removed a fish from the stringer. I went
to our bedroom to watch from a safer distance.
I knew what was in store for those dead fish. With one push, Uncle
Butch inserted the filet knife into the belly and wiggled it up to the head. He
took his thumbs and spread the fish wide, allowing for the guts to spill out
from the body.
Aunt Lori came into the bedroom while I was looking out the
window. She put her arm on my shoulder. “Honey, where are your cousins?”
“They’re outside helping Uncle Butch clean the fish.”
“What?” She looked out the window just as Uncle Butch handed the
knife to Wendy. Then Wendy plunged the knife into the belly of a limp fish. She
forced the knife up toward the head, struggling to keep hold of the fish and
the knife.
After a minute of struggling, she lost her
grip and the knife landed point down just inches from her foot. Uncle Butch
plucked the knife from the ground and held it up in front of him.
“It’s okay. That was good for your first try.”
He took the fish from her and placed the blade into the cut she had started.
“Let me show you the proper way to do it.” He plunged the knife deep into its
belly and forced his way up to the head.
“I swear that man doesn’t have a lick of sense sometimes.” She
left and I looked back out the window to watch.
“I don’t want those girls around that knife! You hear me?” Aunt
Lori said from the porch.
“They’re not going to get hurt,” Uncle Butch said.
“I just watched as Wendy almost lost a toe!”
“You’re exaggerating. Besides, you treat them
like they’re babies.”
“And you treat them like they’re adults, and they’re not.” She
yelled louder than I have ever heard her. It made me nervous because I had
never heard her raise her voice to him before. Everybody stopped talking.
He looked at her for a long while, then turned quickly and plunged
the knife into the picnic table. The handle wobbled and then steadied itself.
I thought about Uncle Butch and the fish all day, but I didn’t
have to see him again until dinner. Aunt Lori had fried the fish in beer batter
and the whole house smelled like fish and grease. Every time I looked at my
plate, I saw those dead fish eyes staring up at me. I ate my hushpuppies and
corn, but pushed the fish around on my plate. I just couldn’t bring myself to
put the fish into my mouth.
“May I be excused?” The fish smell stuck to me like sweat, and I
felt the need to shower.
“What is it, honey? Are you still feeling
bad?” Aunt Lori asked.
“Yeah.” I rubbed my abdomen. “Cramps.”
“Okay, sweetie, you’re excused.”
Uncle Butch was shoveling fish into his mouth. Then he put his
fork down and looked up at me with his black eyes. “Chris, will you get me
another beer while you’re up?”
I didn’t move.
“Honey, is everything okay?” Aunt Lori asked.
“No.”
“What is it?” Aunt Lori asked.
I looked hard at Uncle Butch. He shifted uncomfortably in his
chair. He was holding his breath, staring at me.
“What is it?” Aunt Lori asked again.
A riot was forming in my head and I couldn’t think. I was going to
tell!
But then I remembered what he said about my mother. About how the
truth would kill my mother and me becoming an orphan. If I told, it would also
hurt my aunt and cousins, spreading the pain even more, changing everyone’s
life forever. It just seemed like it would cause a huge ripple effect and we
would all drown from the pain that The Monster had caused. Was that fair?
I lost my nerve. “Nothing.”
In his victory of keeping me silent, he said again, “Chris, get me
a beer.”
Everyone stopped talking. Aunt Lori sized me
up. She looked like she was trying to figure something out about me.
“I’ll get the beer,” Wendy said. She was becoming my protector.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Uncle Butch said.
No one knew what I was feeling. The riot was now blinding me and I
left, leaving everyone but Uncle Butch in a state of confusion.
I went to the bathroom to take a shower and
to cool off. While in the shower, I clenched my hands into fists. My red
painted fingernails looked like drops of blood against my skin.
I soaped up my body, starting with my face and working my way down
my body. My face, my arms, my chest.
My thighs.
The thighs that Reds caressed in the pool. The
thighs my uncle bruised. I felt so dirty. I scrubbed between my legs, over my
thighs again. I repeated the action over and over again as if I could erase the
feeling of their touch. Erase what happened. But as hard as I tried, no amount
of soap could make me feel clean.
Chapter Thirteen
Trapped
SINCE WE WERE on restriction, the time passed slowly. By Tuesday,
Aunt Lori felt sorry for us, so after breakfast she asked, “Wendy, do you guys
want to go to the pool with us today? I promise I won’t tell your father.”
“Okay,” Wendy said.
I wanted to go too, but then I thought about my bruised thighs. I
did a good job of hiding them under my clothes, but I couldn’t hide them in
just a bathing suit. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to go.” I was a prisoner not
only in the cottage, but in my own skin.
Wendy looked at me, puzzled. “Why? This is our chance to get out
of the cottage.”
“I know. I just don’t want to go.” I shrugged. “But you should
go.”
She thought about it, a little too long, then reluctantly said,
“No, it’s okay, I’ll stay here with you.”
“Suit yourselves,” Aunt Lori said, disappearing into the master
bedroom.
“Why don’t you want to go?” Wendy asked.
I dreaded the question and didn’t want to get into it. How was I
going to explain my black and blue bruises? I shrugged and left it at that.
Wendy and I spent most of the day watching the antics of Oreo and
chasing him around. We talked a lot but there was a cloud hanging over us. Like
Wendy wanted to ask me something but couldn’t. It became a big fat question
mark that we both ignored.
A few hours later, Aunt Lori and Paige returned. After Paige
changed out of her wet bathing suit, she plopped down next to us on the couch
in the living room.
“Are you and Mom going to the pool again tomorrow?” Wendy asked.
“I think so, why?”
“I want you to find out from Julie what’s going on with the gang,”
Wendy said. We hadn’t seen or talked to anyone since the dance on Friday before
we were grounded.
“Julie will never talk to me,” Paige said.
“I know, but I want you to give her a note. Can you do that for
me?” Wendy asked.
“Why should I?”
“Paige? Will you do it for me if you won’t do it for Wendy?” I
asked. She seemed reluctant, so I used my secret weapon. “Please? I’ll let you
sleep with Oreo tonight.”
“You will?” She didn’t seem to believe me. “You promise?”
“Yes, I promise. Will you please try? That’s
all I ask.” I put Oreo down and he went over to Paige and rubbed his head
against her leg. She picked him up and kissed his tiny face.
“Okay.” She cuddled the kitten a little too long and he squirmed
to get down.
“Do you want to feed him?” I asked, to keep her from being
disheartened.
We went into the kitchen and got the kitten food and scooped it
into his bowl. Then I told her to wash his water bowl and fill it with fresh
water. He had a healthy appetite for such a tiny kitten.
“You’re going to be a fat cat if you keep eating like that, Oreo,”
I said.
Paige stroked him as he ate, but he didn’t like it. He meowed at
her.
“He just doesn’t like when you touch him when he’s eating,” I
said. “Wait until he’s finished and then you can play with him.”
Wendy and I got out a piece of paper and a pen and sat down at the
kitchen table. We wrote a note to Julie.
What have you guys been doing?
We’ve been on restriction since the dance.
That sounded stupid so we started again. In her best handwriting,
Wendy wrote,
Julie, we are on restriction, but we will be at the Fourth of July
dance. Come by our cottage after work.
Wendy folded the note and gave it to Paige, but before she let go
of it, she said sternly, “Don’t let anyone see this. Give it to Julie tomorrow at
the pool. Be sneaky. Slip it in under her towel or put it in her pool bag to
make sure she gets it.”
I looked at Wendy. We hadn’t thought this through. “Okay, suppose
Julie does get the note? Have you stopped to think that we may still be on
restriction on the Fourth of July?”
“No,” Wendy said.
“Why not?” I asked.
Wendy looked at me. “Well, for one thing, I’ve never missed a
Fourth of July party at Shady Grove since I was born. For another thing, my dad
loves the Fourth of July party because of the dance competition, which he and
Mom have won seven years in a row. He’s a legend at the party. Everyone comes
to watch my parents dance, and he’ll let us go because he loves an audience.
Trust me.”
“Do you think he’ll let us go to the party this Friday night?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask him tonight, if he’s in a good mood, and
see what he says.”
“I hope so.” I sank further into the couch cushions. Oreo jumped
onto my lap and started purring.
Wendy played cards with Paige on the porch until Uncle Butch came
home from work. As soon as he put his keys down on the table, Wendy went to the
refrigerator and got him a beer.
“How was your day, Daddy?” She handed him the beer and he sat at
the table and opened the beer first, then the newspaper.
I kept my distance from him as much as possible, careful not to
look at him directly for fear he would use the now familiar Stare Down tactic
to keep me quiet.
“Thanks, honey. Your daddy sure is tired.” He took a swig of beer
and then lit a cigarette. “What a terrible day.”
Aunt Lori emerged from the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek.
“Bad day?”
He put the newspaper down. “That lazy son of a—”
“Watch your language in front of the girls.” Ironic. She wanted to
protect me from Uncle Butch’s bad words, but couldn’t protect me from The
Monster.
“Charlie took an order without checking to see if we had the
supplies in, and told the customer that we could install her kitchen cabinets
next week, and now I have to call her and explain . . .” He got up from the
table, grabbed his beer, and took it with him as he left the cottage in a huff.
The door slammed behind him.
Aunt Lori sighed heavily.
“Is Daddy okay?” Paige asked.
“He’s just a little stressed about work, that’s all. Everything’s
okay. Go back to playing. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
They continued playing cards.
He came back a half hour later and didn’t seem any better. He sat
in the chair that seemed to have lost all its stuffing.
I didn’t dare move for fear I would cause unwanted attention. I
was getting good at becoming a chameleon, blending into the background. I
avoided drawing attention to myself as much as possible.
At dinner, he sat across from me. I didn’t need to look up from my
plate to know he was looking at me. I felt hot under his stare.
After dinner, Paige complained of a headache.
“Come with me and let me see if you have a fever.” Paige, Wendy
and I followed Aunt Lori to the kitchen. She put her cheek on Paige’s forehead.
“You feel warm.” She reached into the kitchen cabinet for the bottle of
aspirin, and she shook one out from the bottle into her palm and held it out
for Paige. “Here, take this.” She grabbed a glass and filled it with water and
handed it to Paige.
“I don’t want to,” Paige said. “I can’t swallow it.”
“You have to, just try.”
Paige put the aspirin in her mouth, took a large sip of water, and
threw her head back. Then she threw up the pill into the sink.
“Oh, Paige.” Aunt Lori shook another aspirin out into her palm and
told Paige to hold her head back. Then she threw the aspirin way back into Paige’s
mouth and gave her a sip of water. Again, the pill choked her, and she spit it
into the sink.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. You need the aspirin
to lower your fever,” Aunt Lori said, frustrated.
Uncle Butch came into the kitchen. “What’s
going on in here?”
“I can’t get the aspirin down Paige’s throat.”
“Here, give it to me.” He forced Paige’s head back, stuffed the
aspirin down the back of her throat, gave her a sip of water, then pinched her
nose closed with his big sausage fingers and covered her mouth with his palm.
Paige squirmed.
“She can’t breathe, stop it.” Aunt Lori tried to pull his hand
from Paige, but it was no use. He was stronger and more determined.
“No. You need to be the one in control. Let ’em know who’s boss,”
Uncle Butch said.
Paige started shaking her head back and forth and the more she
shook, the stronger his grasp was on her. Her face was turning blue.
I remembered that night. The night I couldn’t breathe.
I heard a whisper in my ear.
Be Brave.
“Stop!” I didn’t
really have a plan, I just needed to save my cousin.
Uncle Butch cut me a look. He gave me The Stare Down.
He released his grip from around Paige’s nose.
Finally, Paige breathed. She opened her mouth, sucked in a huge
amount of air, and coughed violently.
“My mom dissolves the aspirin in some sugar
water and—”
Aunt Lori seemed relieved. “Well, that’s a great idea.” She
quickly dropped an aspirin into a glass, added enough water to cover the bottom
and poured in a little sugar. Then she took a spoon and crushed the pill in the
sugar water. She stirred and handed the glass to Paige.
Paige swallowed the mixture and placed the glass on the counter
and glared at her father. Aunt Lori tucked her into a hug. The four of us kept
our eyes on Uncle Butch.
“I was just doing what my father did to me when I couldn’t swallow
a little pill! That’s the way it’s always been done!” Uncle Butch’s face
reddened and he turned to leave.
“Well, it’s time for a change,” I said, but he didn’t hear me
because he was already gone.
Aunt Lori smiled and winked at me. I felt a little surge of
victory.