smooth, damp shoulder, raising goose bumps.
She froze, wanting to scream, the hysteria building in her, mounting until all she could do was look on in shock as he brushed a rough finger down her arm. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing cameout; she couldn’t make her mouth work.
He smiled at her, his eyes hinting at what he wanted to do, what he could do with stupid little girls like her. He leaned forward, and she felt his breath, pressing, hot on her ear.
“Penny,”
he whispered huskily.
The bottle of beer fell from his hand, the glass shattering in slow motion, green shards flying through the air.
And then she woke up, breathing hard.
Penny slipped out of the house through the side door in the laundry room while her mother was distracted trying to give the baby a bath. She walked up Mockingbird Lane and took a right down the steep curving slope of Lark Hill Road.
Lark Hill Road was the location of more than one fantastically bloody skateboard wipeout, and was also the best place to go sledding when it snowed. At the very bottom of the hill was a wide old fieldstone bridge, under which the creek flowed. The Lark Hill bridge was a popular place for older kids to smoke and drink beer, usually underneath its wide arches, and empty beer cans spilled out from beneath it.
The woods crowded in on either side of thebridge. Benji was meeting her here with his BB gun. He was going to teach her how to shoot. There were no homes on Lark Hill Road, and so the bridge was an easy place from which to slip into the woods, because it was out of sight of parents’ eyes. Penny’s mother would not be happy to see Penny heading into the woods with Benji and his BB gun.
Someone had posted a sign on the bridge wall:
MISSING DOG:
Smoky. Black and white collie mix.
Please call 625-8758 with any information.
Benji biked up a minute later, BB gun in hand.
“Ready?” he asked, chaining his bike to a tree.
They headed deep into the woods, past the fort, where the shots would not be heard by adult ears. The woods were dark and thick, with shafts of sunlight breaking through here and there.
“You getting excited about the Fourth?” Benji asked.
“Yeah,” Penny said. “Especially if Mom gets a babysitter. I don’t want to get stuck watching the dumb baby all day.”
As they worked their way through the brush alongthe trail, the landscape seemed to change, to turn in on itself, get darker, as if each step away from the bridge was a step farther back in time. The woods had always been a safe place for Penny, a place where nothing bad ever happened, but she found herself looking at it with new eyes, wondering what the mothers meant about Susie and that kid Jeffy.
Penny picked up a long stick, good for walking. “Benji, do you think it’s okay that we’re back here in the woods? I mean, what about Zachary and all?”
Several days had passed since Zachary had showed up bleeding in the kitchen, and news of his accident had spread like wildfire through the neighborhood. Everybody—kids and adults—was talking about it.
He stiffened slightly and looked at her. Benji was different from the other boys. He was always the first one there when she fell out of a tree, or got the wind knocked out of her during touch football.
“I don’t think Caleb really beat Zachary up. Why would he bother? You know how Zachary is,” Benji said, his meaning clear. Zachary was just one of those kids who invited bullies. He had years ahead of him filled with black eyes and stolen lunch money.
“But he was a mess,” Penny said.
Benji shrugged. “He makes up a lot of stuff. He went hunting with me and the guys this one time….”
Mr. Albright was a big hunter, Penny knew. The Albrights’ den had stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls—deer, elk, even a cute little fox.
“This was before his parents got divorced,” Benji continued. “Anyway, he wouldn’t shoot this rabbit, and his dad yelled at him, and Zachary started
She froze, wanting to scream, the hysteria building in her, mounting until all she could do was look on in shock as he brushed a rough finger down her arm. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing cameout; she couldn’t make her mouth work.
He smiled at her, his eyes hinting at what he wanted to do, what he could do with stupid little girls like her. He leaned forward, and she felt his breath, pressing, hot on her ear.
“Penny,”
he whispered huskily.
The bottle of beer fell from his hand, the glass shattering in slow motion, green shards flying through the air.
And then she woke up, breathing hard.
Penny slipped out of the house through the side door in the laundry room while her mother was distracted trying to give the baby a bath. She walked up Mockingbird Lane and took a right down the steep curving slope of Lark Hill Road.
Lark Hill Road was the location of more than one fantastically bloody skateboard wipeout, and was also the best place to go sledding when it snowed. At the very bottom of the hill was a wide old fieldstone bridge, under which the creek flowed. The Lark Hill bridge was a popular place for older kids to smoke and drink beer, usually underneath its wide arches, and empty beer cans spilled out from beneath it.
The woods crowded in on either side of thebridge. Benji was meeting her here with his BB gun. He was going to teach her how to shoot. There were no homes on Lark Hill Road, and so the bridge was an easy place from which to slip into the woods, because it was out of sight of parents’ eyes. Penny’s mother would not be happy to see Penny heading into the woods with Benji and his BB gun.
Someone had posted a sign on the bridge wall:
MISSING DOG:
Smoky. Black and white collie mix.
Please call 625-8758 with any information.
Benji biked up a minute later, BB gun in hand.
“Ready?” he asked, chaining his bike to a tree.
They headed deep into the woods, past the fort, where the shots would not be heard by adult ears. The woods were dark and thick, with shafts of sunlight breaking through here and there.
“You getting excited about the Fourth?” Benji asked.
“Yeah,” Penny said. “Especially if Mom gets a babysitter. I don’t want to get stuck watching the dumb baby all day.”
As they worked their way through the brush alongthe trail, the landscape seemed to change, to turn in on itself, get darker, as if each step away from the bridge was a step farther back in time. The woods had always been a safe place for Penny, a place where nothing bad ever happened, but she found herself looking at it with new eyes, wondering what the mothers meant about Susie and that kid Jeffy.
Penny picked up a long stick, good for walking. “Benji, do you think it’s okay that we’re back here in the woods? I mean, what about Zachary and all?”
Several days had passed since Zachary had showed up bleeding in the kitchen, and news of his accident had spread like wildfire through the neighborhood. Everybody—kids and adults—was talking about it.
He stiffened slightly and looked at her. Benji was different from the other boys. He was always the first one there when she fell out of a tree, or got the wind knocked out of her during touch football.
“I don’t think Caleb really beat Zachary up. Why would he bother? You know how Zachary is,” Benji said, his meaning clear. Zachary was just one of those kids who invited bullies. He had years ahead of him filled with black eyes and stolen lunch money.
“But he was a mess,” Penny said.
Benji shrugged. “He makes up a lot of stuff. He went hunting with me and the guys this one time….”
Mr. Albright was a big hunter, Penny knew. The Albrights’ den had stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls—deer, elk, even a cute little fox.
“This was before his parents got divorced,” Benji continued. “Anyway, he wouldn’t shoot this rabbit, and his dad yelled at him, and Zachary started
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