Dangerous Authority (13 page)

Daddy did fun things with me, too. He took me to see hot air balloons or for drives in the country listening to songs on the radio in his little gray car. And anytime Mommy needed help with random things here and there, Daddy still helped out even though they were divorced. So, I slowly realized, life would go on.

***

Around the same time the awful, ignorant things started happening at Mrs. Black, the babysitter’s, my Daddy met a new lady. The lady’s name was Chris. It wasn’t long at all when my Daddy sold his house and moved about a half-hour away into an apartment with Chris.

In the beginning, Chris didn’t talk to me much and I had a strange feeling she didn’t like me. When daddy didn’t live down the street anymore, it made me sad.

The apartment was much smaller and because Chris acted like I was a bother, I mostly played outside by myself. I loved to explore, and I soon found a spot hidden away from the entire world. A small stream lined with wonderful smelling honeysuckle flowed near the apartment. I played there happily one evening.

When I returned to the apartment, Chris exploded when she saw my dirty hands. My heart sped up in the same way it often did when Ryu Black would say that awful word to me.

Chris squeezed my arm roughly and dragged me to an upstairs bathroom. She turned the water on in the sink and let it run until it blazed. I became more scared, remembering warnings from my Mommy about how hot water could burn me badly.

Then Chris grabbed a bobby pin and angrily pulled off the rubber tip, exposing a small sharp edge. Quickly, she jammed the sharp thing under my fingernails. I cried out in pain as my fingernails bled, reflexively pulling my hands away, which only made Chris madder.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you’d STAY CLEAN,” she screamed at me. I cried in confusion. I got dirty at home all the time, and my Mommy never got mad or cleaned me in a way that hurt, so I’d had no clue I was doing wrong.

Chris thrust my bleeding fingertips under the burning water and I screamed.

I watched my Daddy, who looked sad and afraid, but didn’t stop Chris. So, I decided I must deserve to be hurt.

***

Mommy bought me a beautiful white dress. She took me out and we had an amazing time, seeing a play in a theatre and a dinner of yucky food in a fancy restaurant. Then, Mommy told me I could get to wear the beautiful dress again in Daddy’s wedding.

Daddy and Chris were getting married.

Chris was angry about me being in the wedding, and especially about the white dress because mommy bought it. But, she allowed it. Chris seemed like a different person on her wedding day. With all the family and friends there, she seemed happy and she treated me kindly. We all danced and had fun together. I began to feel Chris may not be angry anymore and we could be a family.

But once they were married, Chris began to actually seem to hate me. Once the wedding passed, Chris told me not to talk about Mommy. If I was with Chris and Daddy, Chris demanded I pretend my mommy did not exist.

Chris’ mom and dad were nice. But even though they told me I could call them whatever I liked, Chris told me I had to call them grandma and grandpa, which made me feel strange. If I accidentally forgot, she smacked me. When that happened, Chris and Daddy argued.

Soon, they moved out of the apartment into a brand new home they built. I loved the new home. Daddy and I made things together that he used for decorations. He built a beautiful dollhouse with me there in the sunny living room. I loved it all, except for the house had a basement. Even though there were things in the basement for me to play with, there were bugs and the place felt damp and cold.

I did not like the basement.

***

My stepmother Chris had strict standards. She didn’t think I had manners. Chris delivered sharp, swift smacks across my face during dinnertimes when I forgot my manners. It surprised me every time, and I cried. Then Daddy and Chris would fight.

One time, Daddy got the idea that Chris may like me better if I played sports with her because Chris loved to play sports. So, we both put on ball gloves and it excited me that my stepmother might finally decide to like me.

Chris threw the ball to me with all her might. Even though I did catch the ball, it stung my hand badly. My fingers felt broken inside the glove. Not able to help it, I began crying. Though Daddy ran to my side, Chris threw down her glove angrily and stormed toward the house, mumbling about how stupidly I behaved.

***

And so my life has gone up until this day. It is a rare Saturday my Daddy has to work and I am alone with Chris. My life has become a twist of confusion, thinking all the time about how I get treated by my stepmother and by Ryu Black.

I feel that my Mommy has tried to teach me to be a good girl. She takes me to church, she teaches me about being nice, and she even tells me I’m a good girl. I know I’m still young, so I am confused about why some people say I’m good, and some people treat me like I’m bad.

Especially Ryu Black. I have seen my Daddy hug and kiss with Chris. I have seen Mommy act romantic about a boyfriend. But even though they’re all grown-ups, I’ve never seen them do the things that Ryu Black does to me, and so I feel sick all the time because somehow I know, I’m doing something horribly wrong.

For a while now, I’ve been thinking that maybe, if, once and for all, I find out what that word ignorant really means, then Ryu Black will finally leave me alone. At the same time, I’m thinking that maybe if my stepmother knows that somebody else is already hurting me, maybe, just maybe she won’t want to hurt me anymore.

Maybe, she’ll help me.

So, today, on this sunny Saturday morning, I am going to be as brave as I have ever been in my whole life, and I am going to ask Chris for help.

We are coming out of the grocery store. I walk next to Chris as she pushes the cart to the car. As we almost reach the car, I say in a small voice, “Chris? What does ignorant mean?”

Chris stops walking. Her mouth drops open and she stares at me like I’ve just uttered the dirtiest word, which I suspect that I have.

Then, she smacks me across the face.

“SHUT YOUR SMART MOUTH!” she screams.

She starts walking, shoving the cart and dragging me along with her other hand. I am crying. I know I’ve made a terrible mistake. “Jesus Christ,” Chris rants as she pushes me inside the car and slams groceries in behind me. “Will it EVER END with you?” Chris is angrier than I’ve ever seen her.

I stare quietly out the window swiping at my tears as she drives us home. As soon as we get there, she darts out of the car, runs around to my side, and drags me stumbling and falling into the house. Once inside, she jerks open the basement door and violently pushes me inside onto the landing of the stairs leading to the basement. She slams the door shut and I hear the lock on the outside of the door click, and Chris’ footsteps thunder away.

I stand there in stark terror.

Unable to help it, pee trickles down my leg.

After a frozen moment, I launch myself into the door. I yank on the knob and beat until my hands feel bruised and battered. “PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME IN HERE!”

Eventually, Chris returns to the other side of the door, and her fists beat the door a thousand times harder than mine. “SHUT THE HELL UP! DO YOU HEAR ME?” Chris rages and then she is gone once more, and everything is so quiet. I fear she may have actually left.

After a long time, I inch down the stairs into the dark basement. I run across to the old armchair of my daddy’s and leap on. I curl into the tiniest ball and bury my nose into the chair’s fabric, which smells like him.

I try not to wonder when Chris will return. I try not to think of all the crawling creatures down here with me.

I try not to think of Ryu Black and his basement.

I cry so hard, uncomfortable in my wet pants.

After a long time, I sleep.

***

I don’t know how much time has gone by when I wake up to Chris jerking me off the chair, but my clothes are completely dry, so I feel like it’s been a long time.

“Your Dad’s coming home. Come out of the basement.” She stops as she is walking back toward the basement steps and turns to stare at me. “And don’t you say a word to him about today.”

I barely hear her and I feel like a ghost as I drift out of the basement. I feel strange, and my head feels fuzzy. I sit on the couch and stare straight ahead at nothing at all.

Daddy comes through the garage door happily calling my name, expecting me to leap into his arms, as I normally would do. I want to so much, but I can’t seem to make my body move. I can’t seem to make my mouth speak.

Daddy hurries around to where I sit, and kneeling before me, he touches my cheek. “Olive,” he says quietly, glancing at Chris. “Did something happen,” he asks so softly, his eyes searching mine, wanting to know my secrets.

I’m quiet for such a long time. There is a huge lump in my throat and the corners of my mouth drag down against my will. Silently, I beg myself no to cry. Finally I say, “I don’t feel good, Daddy. Please, can I go home?”

Everything is blurry after that. I hear snatches of a phone call to my Mommy. I know I’m carried to Daddy’s new, pretty, red car and gently placed on the seat next to him. I don’t remember riding home, but soon I am home alone with my Mommy, who is staring at me. “Olive, what is wrong?”

I don’t answer. But my Mommy is getting upset. I know she’s not upset with me. She’s upset for me. Her eyes are full of tears. I can’t hold back my tears any longer. Through huge, terrible sobs, I tell my Mommy about Chris, everything about my stepmother that I had been hiding. When I finish, my Mommy, who has been holding me as I speak, is shaking violently. The upset in her eyes is blooming into red, hot fire. She kisses me on my head. “Baby,” she says quietly, “Mommy will be right back, I promise. Just one minute.”

Mommy disappears into her room and shuts her door. She starts shrieking, maybe into the phone. I don’t understand her words. I have never heard her sound so angry. Almost as angry as my friend, Mary.

The next time I visit my daddy, Chris is gone. All her things and her car are gone. Daddy tells me he’s sorry, and that Chris will never hurt me again. After that day, I never see her, and we never talk about her again.

I feel intensely sad that my Daddy is alone again. I feel that it is my fault and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt now that Ryu Black must stay my secret forever.

***

Time rolls on and on. Mary and I grow older. We learn to read and write. We become pretty girls, who do their best to hide any prettiness. Anything to avoid the attention of Ryu Black. He has also grown; in ugliness and strength.

Mary and I spend many quiet hours down the street from Mrs. Black’s house playing on the neighborhood playground. Through the years, we develop a silent language for communicating, and despite Mary’s frightening temper, we maintain a quiet alliance. We are often left to our own devices, as we’ve never been known to create problems and we are always together.

I spend most of my time playing on playground equipment, imagining myself away to different places and times. Using my imagination to be far away and become someone else has become my favorite thing. Though Mary does not play my games, she is always there with me, quietly watching me play.

Sometimes the park is full of kids for us to play with; other times we are there alone in our own protected world. One such afternoon, Mary and I are alone in the park for a long time. Eventually another boy, probably about eight years old, same as us, wanders onto the playground. He looks a little familiar, maybe from other times on the playground, or maybe from school. Mary and I go about our business, and he minds his, and the afternoon carries on. I end up on the swing, sitting and barely moving under Mary’s watchful gaze from the other end of the swing set. Soon, the little boy wanders over to where I sit lazily on the swing.

“Can I push you?” asks the little boy kindly.

I watch him for one moment with suspicion and then settle on trusting him and not being afraid. “Sure, thanks!” I smile at him.

The boy gives me a push and I begin to move. Soon, I’m soaring, seemingly right up to the bright, blue sky. I close my eyes, tip my head back, and happily receive the wind in my face and the feeling of freedom. The boy and I are both laughing. On one of his pushes, his hand brushes my behind, but I hardly notice.

Except, I am aware of screaming.

My eyes pop open and I dig my feet into the mulch, leaping off the swing. In a lightning fast movement I cannot comprehend, Mary has launched from her roost at the end of the swing set. The boy is on the ground rolling into a ball. His face is awash with blood. Mary is screaming.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HER! DON’T YOU TOUCH HER!” Mary seems insane. Her face is red and spit sprays wildly as she screams.

She kicks the boy again and again.

She kicks him in the tummy, his breath rushes out.

She kicks him in the face, his nose exploding with blood.

He’s not crying anymore; he lies still.

I stand there in silent horror, not even breathing. I want to rush to the boy, but I am frozen, staring at Mary.

“Come on, we have to go,” Mary growls quietly in a way that reminds me of Ryu Black.