myself….” She opened her hands. The pencil rolled out. She picked it up and began erasing.
One hand lunging for the pencil, he answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Jake. Can you come get me?” Lexi was breathless, her voice hoarse, as if she’d been running and crying at the same time.
“Where are you, Lex?”
“Ben is… I locked him outside and I just need you to come and—”
“I’m on my way.” He jumped up, knocking over a chair. “Did he hurt you?” He gestured an apology to Emily as he tossed her the pencil and strode toward the door.
“Not me. Pansy.”
“You know what to do. Don’t unlock the door. Call 911 and—”
“I gotta go. I gotta catch her.”
The phone was silent.
“Alexis, don’t be an idiot! You know who’s going to suffer for this. Open the door.”
Lexi swiped at her cheeks and flattened herself against the wall as her stepfather’s voice sliced through the fresh gash in the window screen. Pansy mewed, rubbing against Lexi’s legs. The cat had an angel. It was the only way to explain how quickly she’d recovered after Ben ripped her off the screen, threw her on the cement, and punted her into the house like a football.
It wasn’t the first of her nine lives she’d lost to the fat man screaming on the front step.
“Open the door or I’ll tear the whole screen off and you’ll pay for it.”
Gripping the phone in sweaty fingers, Lexi picked up the cat. “
Shh
. It’s okay.” Her eyes darted toward the back door. Jake had told her to stay inside until the police came. But she hadn’t called the police. She knew better than that.
The door rattled under huge hammering fists. “The longer you play games, the worse it’s going to be. When I get my hands on that cat…” This time he didn’t finish the sentence. This time he didn’t say he was going to pull her claws out one by one with pliers and then smash her head on concrete.
Lexi shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
Mom, what should I do?
She’d already done the thing her mother had told her over and over.
If anything happens, any time you’re scared, call Uncle Jake
. But she shouldn’t have. She just wanted him to come and take Pansy, but her uncle wouldn’t do that. He’d yell at Ben and tell him he had no business raising his sister’s kids because he was doing it just for the money and he’d threaten to call the police and Ben would swear at him and finally Jake would leave. And then she’d get screamed at for the rest of the night, and if Adam tried to defend her he’d get locked in his room. It always went like that.
Except for the times when it was worse. The times Ben said he was calling the social worker.
Shivers snaked up her bare arms, and she wished she could close her ears the way she scrunched her eyes. She wished there was a remote to click off the stuff in her head. “Fear not. Fear not,” she whispered in Pansy’s ear. She’d heard once there were three hundred and sixty-five fear-not verses in the Bible.
One for every day of the year
. What was the one for today?
Taking a deep breath and pulling her shoulders back the way she did in ballet, she told the fear to leave. Jake would take the cat and Ben wouldn’t call the social worker. That’s how it would be this time. Pansy would be safe and Ben could use all the disgusting words in the dictionary and she wouldn’t care. She looked up at the clock with the butterflies painted on it and tried to see the minute hand under the cracked glass. She remembered the day Mom bought it.
Before Ben
. And she remembered the day Ben threw the phone at it.
After Mom
.
The memories in her head were sorted out like her scrapbook. Before Dad left. After Dad. Before Ben. After Ben. Before Mom died. After Mom. Some pages were black and white, some were colored and decorated with flowers and butterflies.
There hadn’t been color for a long
One hand lunging for the pencil, he answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Jake. Can you come get me?” Lexi was breathless, her voice hoarse, as if she’d been running and crying at the same time.
“Where are you, Lex?”
“Ben is… I locked him outside and I just need you to come and—”
“I’m on my way.” He jumped up, knocking over a chair. “Did he hurt you?” He gestured an apology to Emily as he tossed her the pencil and strode toward the door.
“Not me. Pansy.”
“You know what to do. Don’t unlock the door. Call 911 and—”
“I gotta go. I gotta catch her.”
The phone was silent.
“Alexis, don’t be an idiot! You know who’s going to suffer for this. Open the door.”
Lexi swiped at her cheeks and flattened herself against the wall as her stepfather’s voice sliced through the fresh gash in the window screen. Pansy mewed, rubbing against Lexi’s legs. The cat had an angel. It was the only way to explain how quickly she’d recovered after Ben ripped her off the screen, threw her on the cement, and punted her into the house like a football.
It wasn’t the first of her nine lives she’d lost to the fat man screaming on the front step.
“Open the door or I’ll tear the whole screen off and you’ll pay for it.”
Gripping the phone in sweaty fingers, Lexi picked up the cat. “
Shh
. It’s okay.” Her eyes darted toward the back door. Jake had told her to stay inside until the police came. But she hadn’t called the police. She knew better than that.
The door rattled under huge hammering fists. “The longer you play games, the worse it’s going to be. When I get my hands on that cat…” This time he didn’t finish the sentence. This time he didn’t say he was going to pull her claws out one by one with pliers and then smash her head on concrete.
Lexi shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
Mom, what should I do?
She’d already done the thing her mother had told her over and over.
If anything happens, any time you’re scared, call Uncle Jake
. But she shouldn’t have. She just wanted him to come and take Pansy, but her uncle wouldn’t do that. He’d yell at Ben and tell him he had no business raising his sister’s kids because he was doing it just for the money and he’d threaten to call the police and Ben would swear at him and finally Jake would leave. And then she’d get screamed at for the rest of the night, and if Adam tried to defend her he’d get locked in his room. It always went like that.
Except for the times when it was worse. The times Ben said he was calling the social worker.
Shivers snaked up her bare arms, and she wished she could close her ears the way she scrunched her eyes. She wished there was a remote to click off the stuff in her head. “Fear not. Fear not,” she whispered in Pansy’s ear. She’d heard once there were three hundred and sixty-five fear-not verses in the Bible.
One for every day of the year
. What was the one for today?
Taking a deep breath and pulling her shoulders back the way she did in ballet, she told the fear to leave. Jake would take the cat and Ben wouldn’t call the social worker. That’s how it would be this time. Pansy would be safe and Ben could use all the disgusting words in the dictionary and she wouldn’t care. She looked up at the clock with the butterflies painted on it and tried to see the minute hand under the cracked glass. She remembered the day Mom bought it.
Before Ben
. And she remembered the day Ben threw the phone at it.
After Mom
.
The memories in her head were sorted out like her scrapbook. Before Dad left. After Dad. Before Ben. After Ben. Before Mom died. After Mom. Some pages were black and white, some were colored and decorated with flowers and butterflies.
There hadn’t been color for a long
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