Page 48 of Wounded Dance
I could still feel my body, swollen and slightly sore from this last time, just a few minutes ago.
He knew all along, and yet he did those things, over and over.
To his sister.
I flung him away. I didn’t even stop for my clothes, but wrapped myself tightly in the blanket and flew out of the trailer.
The ground was cold and wet on my bare feet.
I ducked through the broken slats of the fence and crossed the small alley to get to our own backyard. I opened the gate to the fence and raced across the yard to the back door.
I wanted nothing more than to go to my room and be alone, but everyone was right inside. Mom, Dad, and Andy sat at the dinner table. Denham and I were supposed to be at a football game.
Dad saw me in the blanket, eyes on my bare legs and feet. The blanket slipped, exposing my bare shoulder.
“Oh my God,” he said. “Who did this to you?” He turned to Mom. “Call the police.”
“No!” I cried. “Just leave me alone!” I tried to run past, but Dad caught me.
“Baby,” he said. “Let us help you. What happened?”
Andy started to cry, and Mom picked him up.
I didn’t want to talk, but I did want the truth.
“Is Denham really your son?”
His face bloomed red. Mom clutched Andy, her eyes wide.
“Tell me!” I said to Dad. “Is he?”
“Where is that boy?” Dad roared.
“I won’t tell you until you answer me!” I shouted back. I had to know, but I could already see it. I could tell by Dad’s anger, his upset, Mom’s shock.
“Ray?” Mom managed to say. “Is that why he’s here?”
Dad turned to her, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find the right words.
“Oh my God,” I said. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” I broke away from Dad then, and that time he let me go.
“What has he done?” Mom said. “What has that evil child done to our little girl?”
She followed after me, but I was well ahead and closed the door and locked it. I threw the blanket aside and grabbed clothes as fast as I could. I should have gotten dressed. I’d made it obvious what happened. I didn’t think.
Mom knocked on my door, but I ignored her, dragging on jeans and a sweatshirt, then burying myself beneath the covers.
The doorknob jiggled, then stopped. I thought she’d given up. But then I heard a sharp bang against the metal. I realized she was in. She’d jimmied the lock.
“Come here,” Mom said, wrapping her arms around me. I stayed in my ball beneath the covers. “You’ll be all right. We’ll take care of it.”
A door slammed out in the house, then a car started.
They wouldn’t find him. Nobody knew about the trailer. Surely Denham would hide out there.
Unless he thought I would tell them where he was.
I rocked back and forth beneath the covers. Denham had friends. He’d find someplace to go.
