Chapter 11

Ella went to her room. Dad pretended not to hear her crying.
“Get your bike loaded into the Fiesta,” he told me.
“Yes, Sir.” I left the house and set to work.
As I closed the hatch of the car, Dad came outside. He sat behind the wheel and cranked the car. I got into the passenger seat.
“How is Charlie?” He asked.
“He looks pretty rough,” I said. “They say he’s coming home soon.”
Pulling onto the road, Dad said, “Good. I’m glad he’s going to be okay.”
I didn’t answer. I had told him Charlie was coming home; not that he would be okay. It wasn’t worth pursuing.
When we reached home, Dad pulled my bike from the hatchback and I took it into the garage. Neither of us spoke.
Instead of taking a bath, I went straight to bed. It didn’t take long to cry myself to sleep.
—
I spotted a sturdy sapling growing near the path I had been following. Using the bone-handled knife Charlie had given me; I cut it near the base, and then stripped it of its branches. When I was satisfied with my work, I stepped into the trees looking for something to use for a small rope. It didn’t take long to find. I used a thin green weed to tie the knife to the end of the stick. I had a make-shift spear. In the distance, I heard a loud growl. My prey was close at hand.—
I lay in bed and listened closely. I could hear the screen door moving on its hinges, and voices whispering, then a wet pop. What the heck was that?
With my heart in my throat, I snuck down the hall and peeked into the living room. Dad and Jamie stood in the doorway, his hands just above her waist, and her arms around his neck. She was smiling up at him. They whispered something to each other, and then she stood on her toes as he leaned down. When their lips separated, I heard the wet popping sound again.
I ran to my room and closed the door.
*

Ella and I spent the morning riding our bikes. We stayed on Hickory Street, riding from one end to the other, then back again. We stopped to rest in front of Charlie’s house.
“Dad won’t be home until next week,” Ella said.
“How’s your grandmother?” I asked.
“Doing better,” she said. “She had an infection, but is feeling better. Dad is staying another week to be sure.”
At the other end of the street, in the field that separated Hickory Street from Castle View, the tall grass was rustling.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Ella followed my gaze. “I don’t know.”
Two boys stepped onto the road from the tall grass.
“Great.” I said.
“What? Who is it?” Ella asked.
“It’s Marcus and Roger. Two of the biggest jerks I’ve ever met.”
A car pulled onto Diane Lane, and I completely forgot about the boys. Charlie was coming home.
Ella and I pushed our bikes into the yard across from Charlie’s. When the car stopped in the driveway, Mr. Simmons got out and helped Charlie from the car. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, but he managed to smile and wave to us. We smiled and waved back.
Mrs. Simmons waved as well. “Sorry, kids. It’s probably going to be a few days before Charlie’s ready for visitors. Feel free to come by in a couple of days if you’d like.”
“Okay, Mrs. Simmons. We understand. Thank you,” I answered.
We watched as Mr. Simmons picked Charlie up and carried him into the house.
“Man,” Marcus’s voice suddenly sounded beside me, startling Ella and me both. “He looks like Frankenstein.”
Before I could blink, Ella was on top of him, hitting him in the chest.
“Hey, man! Get your monkey off me before I have to hurt it!” Marcus yelled.
He was the same size as I was, but had a habit of being a bully. I never understood that particular combination, but I was happy to see him get pounded by a little girl. I waited just a few seconds before stepping in. I picked Ella up by her overalls, placing her on her feet next to me. For some reason, she allowed it. Marcus stood up, cursing her.
I stepped between them. “If I ever hear you talk like that to a lady again, I will personally remove some of your favorite body parts. Do you understand me?”
By way of answer, Marcus punched me in the right eye.
I hit him in the face six times in a row before he could respond.
I stepped back and calmly said, “You don’t want to do this.”
Honestly, I wasn’t worried about getting hurt. I was used to it. It was Marcus I was trying to keep from being hurt. He hit me in the right eye again.
I hit him about ten times, then stepped back and smiled. His nose was bleeding and his left eye was beginning to close.
“I can do this all day.” My smile became a grin.
Roger, who was actually larger than Marcus or myself, grabbed his friend’s arm saying, “Come on Marc. This kids crazy.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” I laughed taking a step toward them.
The two boys ran back the way they had come.
I looked back at Ella, who was staring at me like I had six eyes.
“You okay, Elle?” I asked.
“Perfect.” She said, still staring at me.
*
William Jacob Wright!”
My head snapped toward my house. Why was Michelle calling me that? Dad was at work and Mom was in the hospital. What was wrong with her?
Michelle and I had an understanding. The rest of our world was so unpredictable that we tried hard to be consistent with each other.
—
When I was starting kindergarten, once the half-days were complete and I was expected to go to school all day, it was Michelle’s job to insure I got dressed and to the bus stop on time. When the bus finally arrived on that first morning, she went up the steps with me right behind her. Half-way up the steps, she tripped and nearly fell. She turned and looked down at the steps as if looking for something. I heard some kids from on the bus snicker.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I said, holding my hands defensively in front of me.
Michelle raised her fist to me, looking very angry. “You just wait until I get you home!”
She turned and went up the steps and went and found a seat, while I stood a moment where I was. The bus driver smiled down at me. Apparently he had seen that I was covering for my sister. He kindly remained silent. I climbed the rest of the steps and sat on the front seat behind the driver.
—
“B.J.!” Michelle was calling from our porch. “Get home now!”
I rushed home with Ella riding close behind me. I pedaled up the driveway and slid to a stop on the sidewalk near the steps.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Mother’s coming home.” She said.
*
Much to both of our surprises, I helped Michelle clean the kitchen and straighten the living room.
It was another two hours before Dad pulled into the driveway with Mom.
Michelle met Mother at the door. She walked with her over to the couch, where I had a fresh Tab waiting. Dad walked in with her bag and took it to the bedroom. He joined us in the living room as Mom was telling me what channel she wanted the television on. He stopped in the middle of the room.
“I need to get back to work,” he said.
Mom nodded at him, but said nothing. Dad left.
“Get me a pillow,” Mom said to Michelle.
“Do you mind if I go back out to play?” I asked.
Mom nodded, turning her attention back to the television.
I headed out.
When I came in that evening, Mom was in her room.
Michelle called to me from the kitchen, “I made tacos!”
Sitting at the table, I asked, “How is she?”
“She’s been asleep for about two hours,” she took another bite of her taco, chewed, then swallowed. “She seems to be hurting”
“What’s wrong with her, anyway?” I asked.
My sister stopped and stared at me for a moment before answering. “Female problems.”
“Shelley!” Mom called from the other room. She sounded weak. “Shelley!”
Michelle and I both went to her room. She was sitting on her bed, pointing at her fan.
“It’s hot in here. Open the window. I need a breeze, “Mom said. “Open the window.”
I walked over to her window, unlocked it and tried to push it up. It was stuck. I put all my weight into it, but it did not move.
“Hurry up,” Mom said.
I hit the window with the heel of my hand. It did not budge. I struck it again. It felt like it loosened, but did not open. The third time I struck it, I missed the wood. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The window shattered and my hand went through it. A jagged piece of class cut into my wrist. I was unable to stop the forward momentum of my arm, causing the cut to extend two inches up my wrist. Then the blood began to flow.
Behind me, someone screamed.