She thought they were dreams. Dreams come when something happens that your eyes can't handle and so they pass the buck to your brain and IT tries to help you out when you sleep. She heard the whispers and then she saw their eyes. They came from the shadows ~ that's how she knew they were dreams. She finally sat up and spoke to them (in her sleep, she was sure) and they began to gather around her bed...these dreams. They were friendly, not scary. They did magic tricks and told her jokes. "Where does a pirate put his toilet paper? ON THE POOP DECK!" ahahahahahaha... she would whisper giggle until tears would sprinkle over her cheeks. They would stop and wipe them away. They tasted them and knew they were happy. They brushed her hair and held her hands. They noticed the marks, the band-aids and the bruises. Sometimes they touched them or sniffed them and then they would look at each other and nod. They would then turn to her and in their gravelly voices they would tell her to sleep, have happy dreams and that one day everything would be all right. She would put a kiss in her hand and toss it to each of them before she snuggled down under her purple comforter. She would try to find comfort in the lie her dreams told.
It was her birthday. Her mom made cupcakes and sent in party bags. She would wear a birthday crown (like a gypsy princess) and when she got home, she would have her requested birthday supper: fried chicken, macaronis and cheese with peas and a chocolate cake with clowns all over it. Clowns were funny; always falling down and honking horns and making flowers from balloons. Her day would be filled with smiles. After the last recess, she began to feel sick. She wanted to got to Mrs. Bodecker and ask to go home early. But she couldn't and she didn't. She heard the bell ring and everyone was heading home. She dawdled. She sat in her desk and slowly packed up her remaining cupcakes and prize bags. "Maybe," she thought, "he will let me go since I am the birthday girl" An ember of hope sizzled under her new pink sweater. It had a little bunny sewn on it and in pretty bubble letters : Somebunny loves me! Her teacher was packing up too. It was Friday. That meant a weekend and a couple of extra days to heal up before David began again. Her sneakers felt like they were full of cement as she dragged down the hall and out the door. Perhaps he'd gone ahead ~ eager for HIS weekend to start and he'd forgotten all about her.
She started out. The sun was shining and a light breeze tossed hints of freshly cut grass and hamburgers on the grill. There was laughter as kids raced home to jump in pools and splash off the hard work week of coloring and sight reading. Her pace was quick. She found herself puffing a little as she walk-ran alongside the woods where she usually was dragged and pounded. But there was nothing. Her heart was racing and her hands were sweating. She saw the corner and almost began to run. She was going to make it. She was going to have the perfect birth....
He stood in front of her like a brick wall. She walked straight into him and bounced back, landing on her butt. Her cupcakes fell out of the box and the toy bags dumped their goodies. She wasn't going to cry today she told herself. She scooted back from him and pulled up a cupcake, holding it out as an offering. He cocked his head like a dog and knelt down in front of her.
"For me?" the corner of his mouth turned up. "You're giving this to me?" she nodded, looking at the ground for a rock he might hit her with.
"It's my birthday." she said softly, reaching up and adjusting the paper crown on her head.
"Wow. Birthday huh?" he leaned over her. "Thank you." and he reached out.
For a moment, she saw peace. She thought he'd eat it and say it was the best he'd EVER had and that she was all right in his book. He wouldn't beat her up anymore. She had a hopeful grin and held it higher, prouder for him to take it.
His hand swooped under it and mashed it into her face and up her nose. She smelled sugar and choked on sweet chocolate. He took the others, tearing a bite from them and then shoving them in her ears or hair or down her shirt. He pinched her so hard she bled. How did he have such long nails? She cried out and squirmed away. She got up and began to blindly run, swiping at her face and pulling candy flowers from her hair. She could see the corner. Almost.... And then she saw a tall figure coming toward her. She was certain that she'd left David behind her laughing and picking up the free pencils and little notepads that she'd dropped. This figure kept coming. Coming fast. She stopped and stared. Then she rushed forward, tears streaming freely. Her mouth was open and she was shouting her name "Mom MOM MOOOOOM Oh Mommy...." and her tiny arms made windmill circles like she could somehow fly to her this way.
"Honey... what... on ... EARTH..." The little girl fell at her feet, gasping. She looked up and shook her head wildly. "Let's go home. I just want to go home." she glanced over her shoulders and was horrified to see David standing next to her.
"Hi." he said holding the bags of toys.
Her mother said nothing as her daughter buried her face.
"Ummmm I'm David."
Her mother remained silent.
"See, uhh I was walking and there was this kid ~ he looked like he was hitting this little girl. Your daughter? So I umm I stopped and tried to get him off. He uhh he ran into the woods ~ you know that trail that leads back to the playground? Yeah, he ran off that way, and I was uh trying to help her. She has these toys. Is it her birthday or something?"
Stunned she sat back ~ she shielded her eyes to see her mother's face. Surely she would understand this was a lie. It would all come out and she would be safe. David would go to jail or maybe even H-E- double hockey sticks. She gripped her mother's legs tighter.
"Ah. I see. Well, I can't thank you enough, David was it? You helped my daughter. What a brave young man you are. I notice that she's been having some trouble so maybe you think this guy does it a lot?"
"Yeah, I-I- mean, maybe. If he thinks she's an easy target. She walks home by herself..."
"Well, maybe David, since you come this way, you could kind of keep an eye on her? Maybe even walk with her in the morning? I think that she could be safer..."
She stopped hearing anything else. She looked up at him. He who pounded her every day. Now he would have the pleasure of doing it twice. She looked at her mom with her mouth hanging open. "No Mommy. Don't"she was half begging, half crying.
"Honey...There's safety in numbers." Mom gently touched her head and turned back to the bully. "You're Denise Howard's boy right? I'll be sure to call her..."
"Okay. Yes Ma'am. " and he knelt down again and leaned in closely. "I'll be glad to help you. I'll walk you to school and I'll walk you home. Your mom won't have to wait at the corner any....more." and his eyebrows went up. He smiled and his eyes bore into her. Her stomach lurched.
"See you Monday. And oh, Happy Birthday." he stood and waved innocently to her mother who scooped her up and carried her home.
She wondered if she could play sick for the rest of her life ~ develop some mystery illness that would allow her to be home schooled. She thought all weekend but she couldn't get it to work. Her mom would cock her head and tell her she was silly. She told her she'd be fine; that David would be there.
"That's the problem" she wanted to yell. But she didn't want to yell at Mommy because it wasn't her fault. It was David's fault.And she thought she just about hated him. Yes, yes she did. Saturday night she went to bed and her dreams tried to cheer her but she rolled away from them. They climbed up in bed and sat with her, gently hugging her and listening as she at last trusted her mind to understand what she'd seen and been through. Her dreams were silent. She wondered if dreams could be mad because hers seemed to be. They huddled together and spoke in low gravelly tones. They looked over and then went back to more guttural whispers. She pleated the sheet with her hands and waited. They got down off the bed and went back to the shadows. She was sad and wondered if she would ever have nice dreams again.
It was Sunday and she was very nervous. Ms. Howard had talked to her mom and they believed it was a great idea for her son, David, to walk her to and from school each day. They couldn't believe who would do such a thing and what kind of monsters were his parents because that behavior had to be learned from SOMEWHERE. Oh they clucked their tongues and congratulated each other on their quick and efficient protective parenting and problem solving skills. This, after all, is what made a community; attention to detail and observant parenting.
She was doomed. She moped all day. She stared out the window and wished she could run away ~ or disappear. She barely ate and merely sat in the tub allowing herself to be washed rather than playing and singing as she usually did. There was no reason. She was certain she would disappear into those woods and never come out. She wondered if Ms Howard would cry. Would David? She would miss her mom. Miss fried chicken and cupcakes. She would miss so many things. She had heard it said at funerals "He/She lived a full life..." this was not something she felt. SHE had not lived a full life. SHE had not been the line leader to the lunchroom NOR had she been chosen to sit aside Mrs. Bodecker and hand out papers. THAT would have been a full life ... but no. She was just going to be demolished by David Howard.
She sighed and turned out the light. Her dreams came in tiny whispers. At first she couldn't understand what they were telling her. She didn't believe them. She swatted, tossed and turned. She whimpered as they crawled up next to her and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Then they told her why.... She lay still and slept deeply. Her dreams waiting patiently in the night shadows.
And here we are together again ~ so exciting, right? Ha. Bear with me. We're almost there. I'll see you at the end of the week. I hope you'll finish this ride with me. I know I've loved it so far. We'll chat soon. Sleep well.
Until next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment