Page 1 of Petty's Crime

PROLOGUE

“Clark!”

Uh-uh.Even at four years old, I know only too well what it means when my father snaps in that tone. I sniffle and brush a hand under my snotty nose, knowing I’ve disappointed him.

“Clark?” Daddy leans over the top of the couch. “Ah. There you are. What are you doing hiding behind there?”

I want to sayduh, hiding,but keep that thought in my head as he uses his body to shove the couch forward a few inches, then folds his tall frame in half and manages to slide in next to me. He glances around as if to assess the suitability of my sanctuary.

My daddy. My hero. I sniffle again. I’m not frightened of him hitting me. He’d never do that. But somehow his disapproval hurts more than the smacks my friends are given to their backsides.

I know an apology is warranted, so sniffing once more, I say the words, “I-I-I’m s-s-sorry.”

“Oh, Clark,” he murmurs quietly. “You’ve got some adaptations to make, huh?”

I don’t completely understand what he means, though the sentiment isn’t lost. Mommy and Daddy had warned me for ages that one day they were going to bring a new sister home. I watched Mommy’s tummy growing bigger and bigger, and even felt excitement when I felt Leila kick inside her. Now I know I’d had no idea what the reality would be. I’d thought she’d just be there, much like the old dog we had before he got too old and disappeared from our lives. I didn’t think she’d make many changes to my well-ordered life.

But as soon as Mommy had brought Leila home, the house had felt different. I got a perfunctory cuddle, but Leila took up all her time. One cry from the baby and Mommy would leave me and go deal with her. I’d missed my mommy when she’d been in the hospital, and expected she’d missed me as well. But now she’s back, she seems to keep all her attention on the ugly little thing that she’d brought home.

It doesn’t even look like a girl, and no one would have known had they not dressed her in pink. She doesn’t do anything other than sleep or cry. I’ve tried, but I can’t get her to smile, even when I showed her my favourite toy car. Her lip had trembled and then she’d been screaming again.

“Come here, son.” Daddy’s not able to fit all the way behind the couch, so I have to wriggle to get into his arms. His chuckle shows he’s not completely angry with me, and his squeeze reminds me I still have at least one person on my side. “Your nose has been put all out of joint since Leila’s come home, hasn’t it, buddy?”

Screwing my face up, I touch my nose, but to me it feels just like it always has. My action makes Daddy’s body vibrate once more.

“Listen to me. Mommy doesn’t love Leila more than you, Clark, but Leila’s so little, she needs more of her time. I know it’s hard for you to understand.”

Now it’s my bottom lip that trembles. I hadn’t expected Leila to be so helpless. But Leila can’t feed or dress herself, or even use the potty like I can.

With his hand on my chin, Daddy turns my head so I have to look into his eyes. “You’re a big boy, Clark, and you’ve got a very important job to do.”

I have?I turn my big watering eyes up to meet Daddy’s.

“My job is to look after Mommy, and yours is to look out for your sister. You know why, buddy?” When my head moves side to side, Daddy’s fingers take hold of my chin, and keep my face turned to him. “Because we’re men. We’re stronger than they are. Ladies need our protection.”

“Even Mommy?”

He chuckles softly. “Especially Mommy.”

But Mommy’s so tough. Mommy rules the house when Daddy is gone. She keeps me safe, so how could she need protecting?

Daddy takes my hand and puts it on his arm. I feel his muscles bulge as he flexes them. “You’ll grow up and have muscles too, buddy. And when a man uses those muscles, he can do a lot of harm.”

“I didn’t mean it, Daddy,” I cry out, hiccupping on another sob. Even at four years old, I knew it hadn’t been my finest hour when I’d shouted at Leila and tried to push her out of Mommy’s arms.

“Buddy, you’re a big boy now. And boys never, ever hit girls, okay? Women—girls—are there to be cherished, loved and cared for.” He breaks off and gives a little laugh. “However annoying they are. You’re bigger than Leila now, and you will be all your life. You’ll grow up to be stronger as you’re a man. It will never be right for you to push, shove, hit or hurt a girl, okay? You got that, little buddy?”

My thumb goes into my mouth as I solemnly nod my head.

He stares at me for a moment, as though trying to see into my mind. What he sees must satisfy him as he gives a rise and dip of his chin. “When I’m gone, you’ll be the man of the house, and I’m trusting you to take care of both my girls.”

I fling my little arms around him at the reminder of how short my time with him is. “I don’t want you to go, Daddy.”

He kisses the top of my head. “I don’t want to leave you either.” He goes still for a moment, then he shrugs. “But I’ve got to go.” Again, he raises my head so he can look into my eyes. “I don’t want to have to worry while I’m away, so I’m asking you to promise me you’ll never, ever, hurt your little sister, even if she yanks your chain at times.”

I try to look as intense as a four-year-old can. “I won’t. Because she’s a girl.”

“And boys never, ever, hurt girls.” He searches my face and then smiles when he’s reassured I’ve taken that message to heart.

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