Lupa (Second Edition)

by Kimberly Odum Wells

The feeling of someone getting on the bed wakes me. My first thought is not of panic but of Max. He’d gotten in my house somehow. My back is turned away from my door and I have half a second to realize how dumb the thought is. I turn fully expecting to see my mom. But it isn’t my mom, or Max, it’s Pops.

  He has one knee on the bed, his belt is unbuckled and his pants are unzipped. He puts his hand over my mouth to stop a scream. I hadn’t even gotten that far in my thought process. I’m so shocked at what’s happening. I’m struck stupid in the first few seconds. Instead of trying to get away, I look at Pops with questioning eyes.

  He’s breathing hard and I can smell hard liquor and cigarettes on his breath. He puts his free hand under my t-shirt and starts to rub my stomach before making his way to me naked breast. My breath is coming in short quick gasp. I still hadn’t moved since he put his hand over my mouth, even knowing what is about to happen. The calm look in Pops eyes has hypnotized me. He rubs one breast and then the other under my t-shirt before finally pulling it up around my neck. When he moves to kiss me, my paralysis breaks.

  I put both hands on his chest and try to push him off but thin Pops is still a man. It doesn’t do any good. His hand came from off my mouth and I take in a breath to scream bloody murder when he quickly covers it again. He throws his whole body on mine and I try to throw him off. He takes one knee and put it between my legs forcing them apart and with his free hand he grabs one of my breasts and pinches it hard. I scream into his palm. My mind is racing and all I can think about is how Pops is going to kill me. There’s no way he’d leave me alive when I live right next door. Pops is trying to push his pants down when an arm appears around his neck and he’s yanked off me.

  For a moment the thing behind Pops scares me more than Pops. It’s wild. That’s my first thought. A wild animal has wandered into my house and come to my rescue. I can’t make a run for it because the fight is in front of the door. I’m trapped. I still haven’t screamed. I’m focused on what in the hell is behind Pops. There are seconds when I think I see glowing eyes. Tiny suns set in the creature’s face. I close my eyes and shake my head. What the hell? When I open them the world makes slightly more sense. It’s Max.

  What the hell?

  Max is beating the shit out of Pops. While my eyes were close Max had released his hold around Pops neck and he is now punching him in the stomach hard enough to take his breath away. While he’s doubled over from the blow Max fist lands a punch to the side of his head, throwing it back. In his surprise Pops hasn’t had a chance to fight back. I don’t know if he can. Max hits him again, this time square on the chin and Pops goes down, knocked out cold. Max stand over him with murder in his eyes the sound coming from him sound a lot like a growl.

  I’ve scooted all the way to the top corner of my bed during the fight and I’m crying and shaking uncontrollably. When did that start?

  “Josette, it’s okay,” Max says but didn’t make a move towards me. “I’m here now.”

  I need a moment. One to process what the hell just happened, one to tell myself I’m okay.

  “Josette look at me.”

  I can hear Max’s voice but it’s coming from a faraway place. Pops moans and Max brings his foot up and then down on the side of Pops head. That’s enough to get me moving. I throw myself at Max and he catches me in his arms. The moment my arms are around him I feel safe.

  He carries me into the kitchen where he picks up the phone and calls the police. I cling to his neck the whole time, unable to stop the tears and grateful that he doesn’t attempt to put me down. After he hangs up the phone, he sits at the kitchen table with me in his lap and tries to calm me down. He doesn’t speak just rubs my back and arms.

  “Josette, I need to go check on Mr. Denton.”

  My cries have been reduced to sniffles and I tense in his arms at the mention of the man unconscious in my room.

  “It’ll only be a second and then I’ll be right back.”

  I nod. Max stands and takes me to the front room. He leaves me on the end of the sofa. He comes back a few minutes later, right as the police are pulling up. He’s brought me some shorts and let me put them on before opening the door. A short balding policeman comes in, followed by a taller woman. She heads for me as Max shows the man where he’s left Pops.

  “Hello, my name is Officer Taylor. I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Can you do that?”

  Officer Taylor’s voice is soft and calm. She bends over slightly trying to get me to make eye contact. I’m looking down at a spot on the couch. I think I’m in shock.

  Two more policemen come in and I can hear voices coming from the back of the house. I’m not sure if Pops is up, but I know that the thought of seeing him has stolen my voice. I don’t have it in me to see him again, even if he is escorted by three policemen and Max.

  Max...that’s who I want, not this woman next to me, no matter how nice she’s being. He would keep me safe. The thought unnerves me as much as the situation I find myself in.

  “Oh God! What’s going on here?” My mother shouts from somewhere outside. “Son unless you plan on shooting me I suggest you get out of my way so I can see what’s happened in my house.”

  Someone tried to stop her and the thought of more policemen outside makes me feel better. My mom comes in looking almost as beastly as Max. The policewoman moves out her way as my mom pulls me in her arms.

  “Josette! Are you okay. What happened?” I still can’t form words so the policewoman fills her in.

  “Ma’am 911 received a call that there was an attempted sexual assault at this address with the suspect still on sight.”

  “What!” My mom looks at the police and then back at me. “Who? Is he still her?”

  “My partner and another officer are checking on the suspect now with the young man who was here when we arrived.”

  “Young man? What young man?” My mom grabs my head and forces me to look at her. “Please talk to me.” My mom has tears in her eyes.

  “I’m okay mom. Max came and got Pops off me before he could do anything.”

  A wave of emotion crosses my mother’s face in the space of a few seconds: disgust, hate, rage and finally worry. She takes me back in her arms relieved that nothing has happened. Officer Taylor’s walkie-talkie squawks and a man’s voice comes from the other end.

  “Officer Taylor, suspect is secure. We’re going to take him out the back. I’ll question the young man.”

  Hearing that Pops is going out the back is like a ton a brinks falling off my chest. I don’t have to see him after all.

  “Got it. Be advised the young woman’s mother has arrived.”

  “Copy that.”

  The blue and red lights from the police cars make me think of Christmas, the front door has been left open. I know the neighbors are trying to figure out what’s going on in my house. I look at Officer Taylor ready to make my statement. I tell her and my mom about waking up to find Pops already halfway on the bed and how he had only gotten as far as feeling me up when Max came and pulled him off of me. My mom didn’t cry but she squeezed my hand hard enough that there is little feeling in it by the time I finish the story. Max and Officer Benson come back in the front. Max stands next to me at the end of the couch.

  He wants to touch me but he doesn’t. I stutter in my statement. Max wants to touch me. I can feel it like my own need and yet know it isn’t mine. The need is almost overwhelming; it’s hot and angry under my skin. I reach out and take his hand. When our skin touch the anxiousness fades. It takes with it, my own feelings of unease. I don’t look at him. Not now, not with all these people staring at me.

  “Do you want medical attention Miss Freeland,” Office Benson asks snapping me out of my daze, but she’s looking up and to the right. She’s looking at Max. “There’s an ambulance outside.”

  “No, I don’t need any, thanks,” I whisper. It’s all the breath I can muster.

  Officer Taylor stands
up and together the two policemen look at me and my mother before looking at Max. “Here’s my card. Call me if you have any questions,” The police shake my mom’s hand while Officer Benson turns to Max. “Good job son, she’s lucky you came by to check on her.”

  “Yes sir.” Max says and for the first time I wonder why Max had come in the house when I hadn’t answered the door. My mom walks out with the police giving us a moment alone.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” My mouth is open to ask what brought him to my doorstep in the middle of the night but my mom comes back and I don’t. Max didn’t move and he never took his eyes from me.

  “Max, I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done for Josette.”

  “No need for any thanks Ms. Freeland. I’m just glad I got here in time.” Max takes a deep breath, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I guess I better get going. I’ll check in on Josette tomorrow if that’s okay?” Max says.

  Mom hasn’t closed the door and I guess Max gets the hint without having to be told that it was time for him to leave too. I stand up to walk him to the door and he pulls me into his arms. I can feel his heart racing. I would have thought my first show of affection with a boy in front of my mom would have been uncomfortable, but there’s something that is just right about me being his arms. It takes away any awkwardness.

  My mom don’t hassle me, she asks if I need anything. I tell her no. I just want to take a bath. She runs it while I sit on the couch. The police are gone but I can still hear my neighbors outside. We aren’t close enough to any of them for them to actually come and ask what happened. I wonder if Max fills everyone in on his way home. I go into the bathroom closing the door and for the first time lock it.

  I take my clothes off and get in the tub laying down and putting my head under the water. I look at the unfinished trim over the door while I think about how Pops could have gotten in the house. I guess I forgot to lock the door before I went to sleep. I’m in the habit of locking myself out, not in. Tonight wouldn’t have been the first time. We live in a pretty decent area. I’ve fallen asleep many times on the couch with the door open, even at night.

  My mom and I aren’t the social butterflies of the circle but these people have watched her grow up and me too. I wonder if Mrs. Denton knows what happened yet. Have the police gone to her house and told her? I sit up in the tub and grab the soap and washcloth. The water is getting cold and I know my mom is probably freaking out on the other side of the door. Getting more worried the longer I stay in the bathroom. Just as I put the towel to my skin I notice a bruise. Pops bit me. I hadn’t noticed, but on the inside of my left breast the bruise forms the perfect oval of a set of teeth. I trace it with my finger feeling the tenderness of it. I finish bathing and put on my pajamas. My mom is sitting in the kitchen and I join her. I light a cigarette and we sit in silence for more than half of it.

  “I won’t say stop worrying because I know that’s stupid. But I’m really okay.” My mom is looking at me now only worried, the rest of the emotions gone. Pops is in jail tonight where he belongs.

  “I’m so sorry Josette.” My mom sighs. She sounds tired in a way that working two jobs has never made her sound.

  And there are those two words again. I don’t think I’ll ever like them—I’m sorry. They’re always being used at the wrong time or by the wrong person. What did my mom have to be sorry for? What did any of the people who had known my grandmother before she died have to be sorry for? Hell, even Pops could take his sorry, if he was ever to offer me one, and go straight to hell with it. People who say I’m sorry, either has no control, or all the control, of the thing that warrants the words. But I don’t say this to her.

  “It’s over,” I say instead. I smash out my butt and get up from the table. “I’m going to bed. You working tomorrow?”

  “I was going to call in,” my mom says.

  “There’s no reason to do that. I’ll be fine.” I sit back down. “I don’t want you to lose your job. Max can stay with me until you get home from work.” Where had those words come from?

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning. You don’t have to go to school tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

  Ordinarily I would have taken her up on any offer to stay home from school but I’d already had a free day. I want to get things back to normal. I wasn’t hurt so there was no reason for me not to go.

  “Nah, I think I’ll go. If it’s too much I’ll have them call and you can check me out over the phone.”

  “Okay.” My mom reaches out and touches my hand.

  I get up, taking my cigarettes with me. I don’t think I can fall asleep but I’ll try. I walk back to my room and stand in the doorway.

  My mom has been busy, or I was in the bathroom longer than I thought. My room is picked up. No one cleans like my mom when she gets started. She’s changed the sheets and made the bed, turning down one corner. She didn’t try to figure out what was clean or dirty from the clothes that were on the bottom of the bed, she threw all of them in the wicker hamper that’s next to the closet. The top of my dresser is straightened and the bottles of unused lotions and perfumes are now in neat groupings, standing in straight lines like good soldiers.

  I sit on the end of the bed looking down at the spot, that not too long ago, Pops had lain unconscious. I’m still staring when I hear a knock at my window. I went over and open the curtains to see Max on the other side.

  “Are you okay?”

  He’s worried.

  “Yeah, better now. You coming in?” I’m glad he’s here. I feel better having him here.

  I go to the door to lock it. I’ll probably be locking doors from here on out. I know my mom will understand. I go back to the window. It takes a while to take the fan out and then the screen off before Max can climb in. No doubt the neighborhood has just watched the whole thing. I’m kind of glad we’re not close with anyone. The phone would have been ringing the moment Max ducked his head in my window otherwise. I hug him before he’s had more than a nanosecond to straighten.

  “I’m glad you came,” I say into his chest. His arms are strong and safe. They feel like home to me. “How long you been stalking outside the window?”

  “I wasn’t stalking. I was sitting on my porch when I saw your light come on.”

  He’s taken a bath too, I can smell soap and laundry detergent on the clean shirt he’s but on.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” I’ve gone from never having a boyfriend to having one sneak in my window in one day. I hug him tighter before letting go and sitting on the bed again.

  “Sure,” he says but didn’t make a move to sit next to me. He’s waiting for permission. I pat the bed next to me. He sits down and looks at the same spot that I was looking at before he knocked on the window. I hold my breath hoping that he doesn’t mention what has happened tonight. I really don’t want to talk about it.

  “You going to school tomorrow,” he asks instead.

  “Yeah, or going to try. I don’t know how much sleep I’ll get tonight,” I say while climbing into bed and getting under the covers in my normal spot. Max has to climb over me to get to the other side. He lies on top of the covers and hug me one-armed, putting his other under his head. I lay on my back so I can look at him.

  “Pops bit me,” I say suddenly.

  “Where,” Max asks sitting up in the bed. We’re whispering.

  “Right here,” I point to the spot that’s covered by my pajamas. Max looks at me and it was as if I could hear him in my head telling me that it was going to be alright, that I was safe with him.

  “Can I see?” He asks. I nod.

  My mom had set out real pajamas. A pair she bought not long ago that she found on sale somewhere I’m sure. They’re white cotton, trimmed in pink satin ribbon. The bottoms are shorts and the top crosses in the front and tie close. I swallow as I watch Max’s hand get closer to the pink satin ribbon hol
ding my top closed. I can feel the weight of his hand as it travels across my body even though he’s not touching me. I can feel the heat of his skin. My chest rise and fall but somehow he never touches me. He pulls on the ribbon and his fingers hooks beneath where it crosses. When he doesn’t draw the top open I look at him. I can’t read the look on his face. I tilt my head to the side as I try. The only thing I’m getting is calm. I smile, just a curve of my lips, nothing happy, just letting him know I’m okay with what he’s doing. He looks back down and opens my top, careful not to expose too much. It’s still a lot. I could see the curve of my breast. My skin is covered in goosebumps. He gasps when he sees the bite mark and looks at me.

  “Baby, are you really ok?”

  Max calling me baby raises an array of feelings and emotion I can’t put to words. There’s too many of them and the few that come to mind aren’t enough.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I whisper.

  I watch him lower his head and kiss the bruise. I draw in a quick breath when his lips make contact with my skin. And then he licks me; a long, slow, soothing stroke over the bruise. His tongue is flat against my skin and rough. His mouth is as hot as his skin. My breath is shaky when I exhale. He kisses the bruise once more before tying my top back.

  “Try to get some rest,” he says pulling me in his arms.