don’t have all night, you know. I’m dropping you two off then heading out to the bowling alley in town, see if anything’s happening there.”
“That’s my brother, always wanting to check out other guys’ balls.”
I thought Brody might get mad at this, but he just laughed, took his sister’s hand and started across the street. He glanced my way, and he actually smiled at me, a sight that burned away my shame and left me feeling warm inside, like I’d just drunk a cup of hot cocoa. I smiled back and followed.
As we reached the other side of the street, I looked back at Dennis and his friends, but they weren’t paying us any attention. Sarah was whining, “But you promised Mom you’d walk me back home.”
“We got things to do, pipsqueak,” Dennis said. “It’s only six blocks, you can make it by yourself.”
Then Dennis turned to his friends and walked away from his sister. I’m sure he had no way of knowing it would be the last time he’d ever see her.
I would see Sarah Winters only once more, but she would be dead by then.
***
I dreamt about Brody that night. In the dream, I was at the Central Elementary playground, only it had a merry-go-round like the one in Thompson Park. I was on the merry-go-round while Dennis Winters pushed it round and round, only he never jumped on. He just kept pushing until the thing was spinning so fast that I had to hold tight to the handrail to keep from flying off. But after what felt an eternity, my fingers went numb and I found myself hurtling through the air. I landed by the flag pole, skinning my knees as I skidded across the ground like a rock skipping along the surface of Broad River.
I lay crying, curled up in a fetal position, as Dennis approached me, evil intent in his eyes. But suddenly Brody was there, standing between me and my tormenter. Dennis took one look at the older boy, burst into tears, and ran away down Montgomery Street.
Brody came over to me and squatted down, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You okay? Can you walk?”
I wiped my leaking eyes with the back of my hand and said, “I don’t know, it hurts.”
And so Brody lifted me in his arms and started carrying me out of the playground. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck, and though it was only a dream, I could have sworn I could smell his hair, a mixture of shampoo and sweat. He placed a hand on the back of my head and whispered, “It’ll be okay, it’ll all be okay.”
And I believed him.
Of course, I now know that dreams are nothing but lies.
Chapter Five
The next day my mother had one of her headaches. She’d suffered from migraines for as long as I could remember, but they’d gotten much worse since my father had left. When they hit, she pretty much spent all day in bed with the lights off and a damp washcloth draped over her face. I’d bring her aspirin and water and try to keep Ray quiet.
And occasionally run errands for her.
That Sunday morning she called me into her room, and I crept as softly as I could, keeping my voice to a whisper. “Do you need some more aspirin?”
She shook her head, which was covered with a green washcloth. “Cigarettes. I need some cigarettes.”
Mom had announced just two weeks ago that she was going to quit smoking, but I wasn’t surprised that she was starting up again. My mother was always quitting, and it never lasted long. The longest I could recall was a month.
She waved her hand toward her closet. “I’ve got a ten dollar bill in my purse. Run up to Buford Street and get me two packs of Marlboro Lights.”
Dutifully I took her purse from its “hiding place” behind a box of old sweaters and rummaged through it until I found the ten. I started to leave the room, but my mother called my name softly.
“While you’re there, get a candy bar for you and Ray.”
For once my younger brother didn’t pester me to tag along. He was still smarting from not being able to go to the movie the night
“That’s my brother, always wanting to check out other guys’ balls.”
I thought Brody might get mad at this, but he just laughed, took his sister’s hand and started across the street. He glanced my way, and he actually smiled at me, a sight that burned away my shame and left me feeling warm inside, like I’d just drunk a cup of hot cocoa. I smiled back and followed.
As we reached the other side of the street, I looked back at Dennis and his friends, but they weren’t paying us any attention. Sarah was whining, “But you promised Mom you’d walk me back home.”
“We got things to do, pipsqueak,” Dennis said. “It’s only six blocks, you can make it by yourself.”
Then Dennis turned to his friends and walked away from his sister. I’m sure he had no way of knowing it would be the last time he’d ever see her.
I would see Sarah Winters only once more, but she would be dead by then.
***
I dreamt about Brody that night. In the dream, I was at the Central Elementary playground, only it had a merry-go-round like the one in Thompson Park. I was on the merry-go-round while Dennis Winters pushed it round and round, only he never jumped on. He just kept pushing until the thing was spinning so fast that I had to hold tight to the handrail to keep from flying off. But after what felt an eternity, my fingers went numb and I found myself hurtling through the air. I landed by the flag pole, skinning my knees as I skidded across the ground like a rock skipping along the surface of Broad River.
I lay crying, curled up in a fetal position, as Dennis approached me, evil intent in his eyes. But suddenly Brody was there, standing between me and my tormenter. Dennis took one look at the older boy, burst into tears, and ran away down Montgomery Street.
Brody came over to me and squatted down, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You okay? Can you walk?”
I wiped my leaking eyes with the back of my hand and said, “I don’t know, it hurts.”
And so Brody lifted me in his arms and started carrying me out of the playground. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck, and though it was only a dream, I could have sworn I could smell his hair, a mixture of shampoo and sweat. He placed a hand on the back of my head and whispered, “It’ll be okay, it’ll all be okay.”
And I believed him.
Of course, I now know that dreams are nothing but lies.
Chapter Five
The next day my mother had one of her headaches. She’d suffered from migraines for as long as I could remember, but they’d gotten much worse since my father had left. When they hit, she pretty much spent all day in bed with the lights off and a damp washcloth draped over her face. I’d bring her aspirin and water and try to keep Ray quiet.
And occasionally run errands for her.
That Sunday morning she called me into her room, and I crept as softly as I could, keeping my voice to a whisper. “Do you need some more aspirin?”
She shook her head, which was covered with a green washcloth. “Cigarettes. I need some cigarettes.”
Mom had announced just two weeks ago that she was going to quit smoking, but I wasn’t surprised that she was starting up again. My mother was always quitting, and it never lasted long. The longest I could recall was a month.
She waved her hand toward her closet. “I’ve got a ten dollar bill in my purse. Run up to Buford Street and get me two packs of Marlboro Lights.”
Dutifully I took her purse from its “hiding place” behind a box of old sweaters and rummaged through it until I found the ten. I started to leave the room, but my mother called my name softly.
“While you’re there, get a candy bar for you and Ray.”
For once my younger brother didn’t pester me to tag along. He was still smarting from not being able to go to the movie the night
Similar Books
