Hear Me Roar

by Katie Cross

  “You are a bog creature,” Lana sang. “I knowed it!”

  “Knew it, honey,” I said quietly. My cheeks flared with embarrassment. Of all the days for her to be running around half naked. I nudged her with my elbow. “And it’s not nice to call people names. Apologize.”

  “Soooorry.”

  “Now, go get dressed.”

  I shoved her behind me, then extended a hand. “I’m sorry. My name is Bitsy. These are my daughters, Lizzy and Lana. Can we … can we help you with something?”

  He straightened up but showed me his own oily hand instead of accepting mine. My arm fell back to my side.

  “Jim,” he said. “Good to meet you.”

  “Lizzy, help Lana with her cereal, please, while I help Mr. Jim with … uh … his problem.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen just as I caught his furtive gaze at the top of my head. His lips pressed together.

  My eyes widened in horror. The bear-ear ponytails!

  Of course.

  Summoning all the dignity I could muster, I gestured to his clothes with a wave of my hand.

  “Looks like you wrestled with a patch of oil and lost.”

  Don’t you dare step one foot closer to my carpet, I almost said.

  He rubbed the top of his head. “Something like that,” he muttered. “Do you know the previous owners? They must have had some weird stuff going on in that house. Some of the things left behind…”

  Just over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of a chipped, beat-up Chevy in the driveway.

  “A little,” I said. “The Murdocks, I think? They moved two months ago.”

  “Huh.”

  A wave of guilt rippled through me—I barely knew my neighbors around here. I’d never been so isolated as when I lived in the middle of so many people.

  “Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said after a span of silence.

  “Thanks. Listen, I hate small talk. I don’t have a hose, and I obviously need one. I heard your girls laughing and thought someone would be home. Can I borrow a hose?”

  I tilted my head to the right, folding my arms to keep from pulling out the bear ears. He did not need to know I was embarrassed.

  “Round the side of the house. Borrow as long as you need it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Instead of leaving, he lingered for a second, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. I pegged him in his early forties. Gauging anything else about him would have to wait until the oil and hat came off. I could barely see his eyes. In all reality, I would probably only see him in passing from here on out. At least I knew his name now for the awkward waves and occasional wrong-mail days.

  “Well, best of—”

  “This a good neighborhood?” he asked. “It seemed pretty safe when I drove through it.”

  “It’s quieter than some around here but has had some run-ins with the law every now and then. This street is solid. Most people are pretty stable here.”

  It certainly wasn’t the part of town I wanted to live in, but I couldn’t afford anything better.

  He grunted low in his throat. With his head turned to the side to regard the street, I caught a better glimpse of his hair. High, tight cut, like a businessman or a soldier. He had broad shoulders and a filled-out torso, with a little padding that made him seem strong.

  “Good to hear.” He shrugged. “Well, I’ll grab that hose. Thanks again.”

  With a wave, he left. I closed the door but peeked around the edge of the living room drapes. He hefted the coiled hose in one hand and disappeared into his gated backyard. Lizzy’s blood-curdling scream pulled me away.

  “Mooom! She beheaded my Barbie!”

  The giddy, hysterical shrieks of children rang through my car.

  I sat at the circle in front of the shabby, seen-better-days Westside Elementary school while waiting for Lana and Lizzy to find me. A sea of children filtered down the sidewalk, giggling, skipping, and throwing backpacks at each other. A harried teacher stood duty, ushering kids away from traffic while simultaneously attempting to tell parents where to go.

  With a sigh, I tapped my phone.

  “Six hundred calories left for dinner,” I murmured under my breath. Plenty of room. We were having taco salad anyway—the girls’ favorite. Without dressing or tortilla chips, I’d have calories to spare, which meant I could have dressing this time. Besides, the spinach had minerals, fiber, lots of water, and vitamins.

  Ideal for all.

  With no sign of the girls, I tapped into the community portion of the app and perused the message boards. I drew strength from the internet solidarity. Whatever we did or didn’t have in common, at least I knew people attempting the same journey as I was.

  The try-to-lose-weight-for-an-eternity-and-never-really-get-there journey.

  I tapped through the new messages with eagerness.

  Lost 100 lbs! Pix, said the first subject.

  You look great, I responded. You’ve been working so hard!

  Anyone want to help me with metabolism calculation? Eating at 1800 calories. Says I need to up it?

  BitsyMom2 will chime in, someone said. She’s definitely the go-to around here for stuff like that.

  Famous, but without accolades. Too bad I couldn’t make a career out of dieting. I quickly typed a response. Send your numbers over in a private message. I have the formula at home. 1800 is too much if you want to lose 2 lbs. a week, but we’ll look more in depth.

  “Silly newbies,” I said with a shake of my head.

  The back door opened with a squeal, startling me. I pushed the phone into my drink canister and smiled.

  “Hey, hunny bears!”

  Lizzy slipped inside first, scooting across the seat and putting her seatbelt on with all the grace of a queen. Lana stumbled in with only one shoe on, a braid undone, and a strap on her overalls flying free. A smudge of dirt colored her right cheek.

  “Moooom!” she cried. “I won at recess!”

  “What did you win?”

  “A contest to find the biggest worm.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t eat it.”

  She beamed. “Not this time!”

  “Congrats! Hey, Lizzy.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  I flicked the blinker on, waved to the teacher, and peeled out of the line. Just behind the teacher, I thought I saw the principal headed our way, hand waving to grab my attention. I stomped on the gas. With the school play coming up, there was no way I’d let him pin me down.

  “How was the day?” I asked as I sped onto the street.

  “Good.”

  “And?” I drawled.

  The corners of Lizzy’s lips twitched, then she broke out into a wide grin. “The audition went really good!”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded vigorously. “I think I’ll get a mermaid part, at least. Although, Kelly from the fifth grade will get the lead, I just know it. She was telling everyone about how her mom is a trained actress and has been giving her lessons.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t mean she’ll get it.”

  Lizzy shrugged and looked back out the window. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll just be happy to have a part.”

  “And I want to be a crab!” Lana cried. “They didn’t even make me try out. They just said I could have it. Cool, huh?”

  I snorted. “Somehow, Lana,” I said, “I think that role is perfect for you. Are you nervous to find out, Lizzy?”

  She paused, then shrugged. “Not really. They said we’ll know by the end of the week.”

  With that, she fell into her latest book as we drove home. Lana chattered about a missing assignment, a lost field trip permission form, and something about a GI Joe that I couldn’t track. By the time we pulled into the driveway, I’d had a minute-by-minute recounting of Lana’s entire day and then some.

  “And that,” Lana said with a final sigh, “is where I found the worm.”

  “You are the worm master.”

  “I know.”

  Wh
en I stepped out of the car, Jim stood on his driveway behind a ratty couch made of floral material my mom would have grown up with. His open garage door revealed a sea of unpacked boxes. I returned his wave, grabbed a bag of groceries, and headed inside.

  Strange guy.

  While the girls worked on their homework, did their chores, and scattered to play, I threw ground beef onto the stovetop and started dinner prep. Seconds after I finished chopping bell peppers, the doorbell rang.

  “Coming!”

  When I peeled the door open, my ex stood on the porch in a pair of aviator glasses, a t-shirt, and a loose pair of jeans. He spoke into his phone, then held up a finger for me to wait.

  I held back a snarl.

  “Yep, thanks babe,” he said. “Just ship everything. Have the movers pack it if you want. Yep. No worries.” He covered the microphone with one hand and mouthed, Just a sec.

  I slammed the door.

  A full minute later, a knock sounded.

  “Lizzy,” I called. “Your father is here. Will you answer the door?”

  The girls streaked past me in pink and camo blurs. The door opened, and Daniel growled like a bear as he chased them into the house.

  That’s mine! I wanted to scream, but bit it back.

  The sound of their delighted shrieks trailed down the hall, but he wisely stopped by the doorway to the kitchen. I stabbed the browning meat with a livid vengeance. What was he doing here? He had real nerve to show up, knock on my door, then ask me to wait.

  A crack split the air. I glanced down to see the spatula broken in half. I growled.

  Honestly.

  “So, Bitsy,” he drawled, straightening up while Lana attempted to climb his back.

  She half-strangled him with an arm. I fought off the temptation to double her allowance if she succeeded.

  “I was wondering if I could take the girls out to dinner to celebrate my signing on the house today. Root beer floats are definitely in order.”

  I gritted my teeth and spread my hands in front of me. “I already have dinner on the stove, actually. As you can see.”

  His eyes flickered down, then his lips rounded into an O. “Ah, yes. I see. So …” He lifted one eyebrow in a pregnant pause.

  “So?” I asked.

  “Can they? I mean can that be saved for later, maybe?”

  “If you had wanted to celebrate with them, you should have called or texted me.”

  “Sorry, I was signing the mortgage and doing some meetings over Skype all day. I didn’t think we’d finish in time, so I didn’t want to get their hopes up. Listen, just this once? This is a super-special occasion because now I get to hang out with these troublemakers all the time!”

  He grabbed Lana and spun her into a front flip. She landed on her feet with a shriek.

  “Do it again!”

  Lizzy gripped his waist. She bent backward, braid flying in an arc behind her head as she tried to look at me.

  “Please, Mom?” she pleaded. “Oh, please let us go? Just this once. We’ll have taco salad tomorrow, and I’ll do all the dinner dishes.”

  “Yeah, Mom!” Lana cried, giggling as Daniel attempted to put her in a headlock. “Just this once?”

  Their excitement cut right through me. Taco salad was their favorite, and I’d ditched meeting Mira for tea to buy the groceries before I picked them up. I stuffed aside the annoyance—perhaps a bit of hurt—and swallowed hard.

  This wasn’t about me.

  “Fine. You can go. But just this once!” I glared at him. “You can’t just show up whenever you want, Daniel.”

  He saluted. “You got it, boss. Go get your shoes, girls! Hamburgers and root beer floats are waiting, and my belly is hungry. Like a bear!”

  Lizzy giggled when he fake-attacked her again, then scampered to her room behind Lana. The sheer ecstasy in their eyes made my throat tight. I swallowed and looked away. Once they disappeared, Daniel straightened up. His gleeful expression faded.

  “Listen, Bitsy, thanks. I know this wasn’t fair and was last minute, and I’ll try harder from now on.”

  He wouldn’t. He never did.

  “This really can’t be a habit once you live here. The girls need structure, and I need to know when to anticipate them leaving. You’re lucky they already did their homework, or I wouldn’t have let them go.”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “It won’t need to be a habit if I get to see them all the time, right?”

  The hair on the back of my neck straightened. Surely he had a different idea of all the time than I did. Before I could question it, however, the girls reappeared.

  “Ready!” Lizzy cried.

  “Me too. First one to the car wins!” Lana dashed off without hesitation, and Lizzy followed. Daniel waved.

  “Bye! Thanks again.”

  “Have them back by 7:30!”

  “8:00 it is!”

  The door slammed behind him. He followed close behind the girls, lumbering and growling like a grizzly. I set my teeth and watched him go. This didn’t bode well.

  This didn’t bode well at all.

  By 9:00, I’d sent five text messages, called twice, and started to pace.

  “He wouldn’t,” I muttered, just to get the thoughts out of my head. “He wouldn’t do this as a prank or some sick way of getting the girls. No. Daniel is not malicious. He’s not malicious, just irresponsible.”

  I didn’t feel any better.

  The sound of car doors shutting broke through my mutterings. My head jerked up. Relief, then rage, surged through me. Both girls burst into the room. Lizzy wore a fake silver tiara, Lana a pirate’s eye patch. Both of them giggled uncontrollably.

  “Hi Mom!”

  “Moooom!” Lana called. She held up a giant teddy bear wielding a machete. “Look what I won!”

  Daniel stood behind them, grinning with obvious pride. My nostrils flared. “Looks very nice, girls,” I said coolly. “It’s past your bedtime. Please go change into your pajamas and brush your teeth.”

  Lizzy’s eyes widened. “Are we in trouble?”

  “You’re not,” I said, glancing at Daniel. “Go now, please.”

  Both girls calmed immediately, their shoulders slumping as they slipped past me. Daniel shoved his hands into his pocket.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “It’s late. Way late. But we found this really fun arcade, and the girls had never been—”

  “Pennycade?”

  “Yeah! You’ve heard of it?”

  My hands fisted at my side. Going to Pennycade had been a lifelong dream of Lana’s—I’d planned to take her there for her birthday in August. I’d been saving money from my last five clients to cover it. I swallowed a knot in my throat and forced myself to calm down.

  “This is not going to work out well if I can’t trust you, Daniel.”

  “Just this one time, I swear!”

  “It won’t be!”

  “It will. The girls nee—”

  A pealing sound split the air—his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket, then looked at me. “Seriously, Bits, I have to take this one. I’m sorry again and will do better next time. See you later?”

  He dashed off the porch, no doubt motivated by the burning rage in my eyes. I watched him go, sucked in a long, careful breath, and walked to the girls’ bedroom. Both sat in bed, laughing. Lizzy cradled her new tiara, Lana her teddy bear. I leaned against the doorway.

  “Did you brush your teeth?”

  Lizzy nodded. Lana froze. I snapped my fingers. “Go,” I said with a jerk of my head. “Get ’em clean.”

  “But Mooom!”

  “Then you can tell me all about Pennycade.”

  Lana opened her mouth to protest, but I quelled it with a look. She stood up and slunk over to the door, grumbling. “Dad wouldn’t make me brush my teeth.”

  Dad probably doesn’t remember to brush his own teeth, I wanted to snap, but kept it in check.

  Lizzy smiled when I sank down next to her on the bed. I reached fo
r her hair and motioned for her to sit in front of me. She obeyed. Some of my tension calmed as we fell into our usual routine. Silky strands of her hair slid through my fingers as I separated them into three sections.

  “Did you have fun?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  I choked out, “Good.”

  “Dad’s pretty crazy.”

  My fingers paused. “How so?”

  She shrugged. “He’s just really fun.”

  “Right.”

  Before we could get farther, Lana appeared again. “Did it,” she said, then dropped onto her bed. After further questioning—which yielded one-word replies and a few strange glances between them—I finished the braid and patted Lizzy’s shoulder. By then, both of them were yawning, so I pushed away the idea that they were hiding something from me.

  But I couldn’t suppress it entirely.

  “To bed with you, Miss.” I patted Lizzy’s shoulder.

  “Night, Mom.”

  I kissed both of their heads, then headed toward the door. The warm, amber glow of a lamp bathed their room when I turned the light off. Just as I started to close it, I heard Lizzy whisper, “That was so much fun tonight.”

  I paused, the door open only a sliver.

  “Yeah. Really fun.”

  Lizzy yawned and then said, “I can’t wait to meet Jade next weekend. She seems so great, and I can’t believe she sent this tiara. It’s perfect! Night, Lana.”

  “Night.”

  The door closed with a quiet snick. I stood there, blinking.

  Jade?

  That night, I stared at the slow rotation of my ceiling fan.

  Thoughts flew through my mind at reckless speeds. I let them go, to be contemplated later. Instead, I tried not to tally up casserole calories by thinking of Mom.

  Memories of her ebbed and flowed with new intensity. The smell of fresh cotton. An uncertain smile in a quiet, rounded face.

  Grief always surprised me that way. Latent at times, then rearing up with unexpected potency at others. Breast cancer had broken her body, maybe even parts of her spirit, with years of chemo and radiation. It had transformed her into a brittle shell. Then the shell crumbled.

  Like a poof of dust, she was gone.

  Dad’s unexpected remarriage to a second wife after less than a year flitted through my mind. Then my brother Mark’s suicide. My attending college at night so I could care for my siblings during the day.