again.
Not long after that, your hunger turns ravenous. Pork buns long gone. At six thirty, Mom taps on your door.
“Supper’s ready, honey.” Long pause. “Would you like me to bring you up a plate?”
Your stomach growls, so loud that you can hear it. “No,” you snarl. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” Why can’t she ever, ever just leave you alone?
You slide onto the floor and dig into an ancient toy chest full of old dolls and dress-up clothes, reaching underneath everything and feeling around until you come up with a little girl’s diary complete with lock. Scissors. Scissors. It takes you a minute, but you find those too, and
snip
, the piece that holds the book closed is no more.
You flip through quickly, looking for the blank part, not interested in reading your nine-year-old drivel. Not interested at all. Blank page found, you forget your grumbling gut for a while, you forget that strange and terrible trip downtown, as you create a list, a catalogue, of your sister’s various stupidities.
At last, at eight o’clock, the house settles, grows quiet, and you shove the diary right back where you found it and head downstairs. Sybilla rises from the carpet. You sink to your knees, wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her fur, and remember. One sob, big and deep. She wriggles against you. She has love to spare and she knows nothing of the deep dark dirty places inside of you. Another sob, this one even deeper.
“Kaya?”
Beth has followed you down the stairs. She is standing behind you, her path to the kitchen blocked by the pair of you: happy dog, sad girl. She looks desperate. Terrified.
You feel the skin pull back from your teeth; your eye sockets clench.
Beth stands for a long moment looking at you. Then she turns and runs back upstairs.
In the kitchen, you stand in front of the fridge, rip the plastic wrap off a bloody hunk of grilled steak and devour it, almost without chewing. You find a bag of cookies in the cupboard and take it upstairs, but the meat in your belly is all you need.
Sleep comes then, easy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kaya
The next morning, you get up and get ready for school. Mom bustles in the kitchen, while Beth sits at the table, hair in her face, eating an oversized bowl of bran flakes and granola. After a bit, Mom goes to wait in the car. The drive to school is silent. You can feel Mom wanting to speak, to find the words that will keep you in school this day, and the next.
You feel sorry for her, almost, and when she pulls over in front of the school, you lean into the front seat and kiss her on her soft pink cheek. Her breath flies out of her in a whoosh, and her hand comes back around and grasps your head. You pull away, and the moment is over.
Beth is already standing outside the car by the time you get out, waving kind of awkwardly at Jane and Samantha, who are waiting on the school steps. She turns back to you before she waddles off. “You be here today at three,” she says. And if Beth can be fierce at all, she’s fierce now.
You grin. “When have I ever let you down?” you say, your voice bright and crisp.
She stares. You know she wants to say,
Every day of your life, since the day you came
. You imagine the tip of her tongue all bloody from where she’s biting it. She just can’t say something like that, no matter how much she longs to.
You drop the act. “I’ll be here,” you say. And you will be. You can’t go back downtown today anyway. Not without a bit of cash.
The day is long, though, and so is the next one. Michelle does not show up at school and you wonder about that. Has she gone back down there? If she has, is that all your fault?
Diana does show up at school, of course. Even though you have dropped the metalwork class, the two of you keep running into each other. And every time, acid swirls right up your throat. She seems to have the same reaction, because she turns away as fast as you do. The two of you dart all over the place to
Not long after that, your hunger turns ravenous. Pork buns long gone. At six thirty, Mom taps on your door.
“Supper’s ready, honey.” Long pause. “Would you like me to bring you up a plate?”
Your stomach growls, so loud that you can hear it. “No,” you snarl. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” Why can’t she ever, ever just leave you alone?
You slide onto the floor and dig into an ancient toy chest full of old dolls and dress-up clothes, reaching underneath everything and feeling around until you come up with a little girl’s diary complete with lock. Scissors. Scissors. It takes you a minute, but you find those too, and
snip
, the piece that holds the book closed is no more.
You flip through quickly, looking for the blank part, not interested in reading your nine-year-old drivel. Not interested at all. Blank page found, you forget your grumbling gut for a while, you forget that strange and terrible trip downtown, as you create a list, a catalogue, of your sister’s various stupidities.
At last, at eight o’clock, the house settles, grows quiet, and you shove the diary right back where you found it and head downstairs. Sybilla rises from the carpet. You sink to your knees, wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her fur, and remember. One sob, big and deep. She wriggles against you. She has love to spare and she knows nothing of the deep dark dirty places inside of you. Another sob, this one even deeper.
“Kaya?”
Beth has followed you down the stairs. She is standing behind you, her path to the kitchen blocked by the pair of you: happy dog, sad girl. She looks desperate. Terrified.
You feel the skin pull back from your teeth; your eye sockets clench.
Beth stands for a long moment looking at you. Then she turns and runs back upstairs.
In the kitchen, you stand in front of the fridge, rip the plastic wrap off a bloody hunk of grilled steak and devour it, almost without chewing. You find a bag of cookies in the cupboard and take it upstairs, but the meat in your belly is all you need.
Sleep comes then, easy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kaya
The next morning, you get up and get ready for school. Mom bustles in the kitchen, while Beth sits at the table, hair in her face, eating an oversized bowl of bran flakes and granola. After a bit, Mom goes to wait in the car. The drive to school is silent. You can feel Mom wanting to speak, to find the words that will keep you in school this day, and the next.
You feel sorry for her, almost, and when she pulls over in front of the school, you lean into the front seat and kiss her on her soft pink cheek. Her breath flies out of her in a whoosh, and her hand comes back around and grasps your head. You pull away, and the moment is over.
Beth is already standing outside the car by the time you get out, waving kind of awkwardly at Jane and Samantha, who are waiting on the school steps. She turns back to you before she waddles off. “You be here today at three,” she says. And if Beth can be fierce at all, she’s fierce now.
You grin. “When have I ever let you down?” you say, your voice bright and crisp.
She stares. You know she wants to say,
Every day of your life, since the day you came
. You imagine the tip of her tongue all bloody from where she’s biting it. She just can’t say something like that, no matter how much she longs to.
You drop the act. “I’ll be here,” you say. And you will be. You can’t go back downtown today anyway. Not without a bit of cash.
The day is long, though, and so is the next one. Michelle does not show up at school and you wonder about that. Has she gone back down there? If she has, is that all your fault?
Diana does show up at school, of course. Even though you have dropped the metalwork class, the two of you keep running into each other. And every time, acid swirls right up your throat. She seems to have the same reaction, because she turns away as fast as you do. The two of you dart all over the place to
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