My mom bent over and did a sweep of Thomas’ neck. “You said they held a knife to his throat?” she asked, looking for a wound.
“Yes Ma’m, a pocket knife is what the clerk said.”
“Well, he looks fine. Go on get inside. And wash your face.”
Thomas pushed his way through blurry tears and rushed inside. The police officer lingered.
“The store doesn’t have security cameras, so we’re going to take what testimony we have from witnesses and see what we can do about getting his bike back. We at least have a description of the truck and a partial license plate, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing pulled up. This kind of thing is happening more and more around here.”
“Thank you,” Mom said, uninterested. “He just got that bike, so if it’s not found then maybe it’ll teach him a lesson.”
The officer looked over at Alyssa and I sitting off to the side. His eyes softened. “We’ll let you know what turns up, Ma’m. I’m sorry for the scare.”
Mom pulled out a cigarette as the officer made his way back to the car. The mumbling under her breath had grown to a loud whisper by the time he turned his key in the ignition, and as he drove away Mom finally noticed the hoards of neighbors standing around watching.
She puffed a cigarette and exhaled a steady stream of smoke. With that exhale came a round of tears that let the neighbors know that something bad had happened. Poor Molly, poor Molly and her troubles. So many kids, so much stress.
Mom crushed her butt into the concrete, wiped away a tear, and made her way into the house to give Thomas hell.
Chapter Five
“We’re running away,” I told Kat. She watched me stuff two shirts into a suitcase. “We’re going to Grandma’s house. I know the way, we can walk there. I have two suitcases. This one is yours.” I pointed. “Put some pajamas in there, no toys. We’ll sneak out the window after everyone goes to bed. Okay?”
Kat nodded and walked over to her dresser to start packing.
I was going to be twelve that summer. I finished packing my suitcase while I remembered when Mom got her first back surgery. I was seven then, and Dad started to tuck us in at night since Mom couldn’t do that anymore. She couldn’t do much with rods and screws in her back. Always a heavy sleeper, my sister would be tenderly snoring after a few minutes of him rubbing her back and I would try not to fidget while I waited for my turn.
I don’t remember how long it usually took me to fall asleep. I don’t remember when my back rubs turned into chest rubs, and then stomach rubs. By the time Dad was spending close to forty five minutes in my room at bedtime I would pretend to be asleep, squeezing my eyes shut so hard I would see white. You’re sleeping, I convinced myself, and everything is fine because you’re sleeping. Everything is fine.
I couldn’t call out. Mom was passed out from her pills. Kat could sleep through an earthquake. The boy’s bedroom was on the other side of the house. There was no one.
Kat was a heavier sleeper, Dad knew this. He had spent a long time on the side of my bed one night. That time it had hurt, and I held my stomach when he got up to walk away afraid I would throw up. He crept to the other end of the bed, though, and sat down next to Kat.
Just as he was about to reach over I jumped up kicking my legs and using my arms to hit the water bed.
As the bed rolled and shook, Kat startled awake and started crying. Dad bent down and tried to console her. His eyes struggled to see me through the shadows of the room but when they met with mine they threatened him in silence.
Don’t you dare touch her. My pajamas were soaked with my tears as my chest heaved. Don’t you dare lay a single finger on her. I’ll tell. Try me.
My message was clear, and after Kat’s cries subdued, he walked to the bedroom door and crept out without saying a word. I laid back down and put my foot against my sister’s leg so I could monitor if there was any movement, as I always did. I’ll protect you, baby sister, I’ll protect you.
Mom couldn’t protect us anymore. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Those white pills did too much; she was in too much pain to notice. That night I realized the new role I took in my family. I didn’t want it. It became an unspoken rule from that point on. If I didn’t fight, if I kept his secret, he wouldn’t hurt Kat. The idea was that as long as I knew he was hurting me, he couldn’t be hurting her. It was the only way I knew how to protect her. I had to protect her.
When bedtime rituals became painful, I made the decision to run away. Kat would have to come with me. I thought about my brothers, but noticed that after Dad would spend the time in my room the night before, he would take it easier on them the following day with his physical attacks. He roared a little less. I figured if Kat and I were gone, maybe he would be nicer to them. Then he wouldn’t be hurting me or my brothers. It had to work.
Adam and Thomas seemed calmer then too since they didn’t have to run from his outstretched hand or his belt. I kept the harmony and the balance. I shivered watching Kat close the latches on her suitcase. I didn’t want to think about the next morning when everyone woke up to see us gone. I hoped Adam and Thomas would protect each other if Dad tried to hurt them. Maybe they would run away too.
Mom had come home that afternoon from a doctor’s appointment. She was scheduled to go in for another back surgery, but they would need to wait because she had something called Shingles. She was talking on the phone in the kitchen and I heard her saying that it was something deadly. It was my deciding factor. If Mom was going to die, I had to get out before she did. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t imagine living in that house with only Dad.
We had cereal for dinner that night since it was in the middle of the week. “Friday’s are paydays and Saturdays are food shopping days, if there’s enough money after Dad pays the bills,” Mom would say.
Kat and I were quiet as we exchanged knowing glances across the table. This time tomorrow, we’ll be at Grandma’s, eating chicken or mashed potatoes. Maybe both. Dad was working the overnight shifts this week. I lived for overnight weeks. Soon Kat and I turned out the lights in our bedroom, we kissed Mom goodnight. We waited.
At ten o’clock I slid my body off the bed like a snake and sat on the floor to put on my sneakers. I listened. The house was quiet. I moved to the edge of Kat’s side of the bed and put my hand on her shoulder. “Hey, we gotta go. Put your shoes on,” I whispered.
I sat on the floor and pulled the suitcases out from under the bed. They were heavy but it wasn’t too long of a walk. Maybe twenty miles, or thirty. It only took Mom ten minutes to drive there, so I figured it would take us about twenty minutes to walk there.
“Are we gonna tell Mommy?” Kat stood with her suitcase in her hand. The moon illuminated her fluffy blonde hair. Her eyes were like our cats when he sat to watch the birds and I could tell she was scared.
“I don’t think we can.” I leaned in closer to whisper. “Mom can’t know where we’re going cause Dad might ask her and then he’ll know where we are.”
“Why can’t Daddy know we’re going to Grandma’s?”
The shadows from our night light hid my face. “He just can’t.” I thought for a minute. “Okay, let’s tell Mom. Just so she’s not worried. So she can come visit us if she wants.”