by Paige Dearth
The child came running out with Lucy following her.
“Izzy is so smart!” Lucy said. “Aren’t you, Izzy?”
The little girl smiled up at her. “Yeah,” she affirmed, “I’m smart!”
Emma knew how smart Izzy was. She was also incurably talkative and utterly adorable. As the friends said their good-byes, they promised to keep in touch. Lucy gave Izzy a prolonged embrace.
“You be good to your Aunt Emma, Izzy!” the thirteen-year-old instructed.
As Emma drove back to Kensington, she hoped this new opportunity would turn out to be exactly what they both needed. About ten minutes into their ride The Beatles started blaring on the radio. Emma started singing along with “Let It Be,” and seconds later, Izzy joined in. As young as the child was, she knew the words to many of the songs that streamed over the radio in their apartment. Emma and Izzy both loved music. They were happy and they were alive. For the first time in a long while, Emma felt young and carefree.
Sydney was waiting for them when they arrived and flung open the front door to let them inside. The only light in the once-formal sitting room came from a few small lamps, and Emma imagined how beautiful it must have been. The large front windows now stood ghostly and bare, with half-burnt stubs of old candles still standing twisted on the windowsills. The room was spacious, with a high ceiling and ornate angels carved into the wood tucked into the corners of the high ceiling. The small angel heads looked demonic and gave Emma the willies. The wallpaper was nothing more than scraps of color in random places, except for a wall that the herd had painted black.
“This is where we all hang out,” Sydney announced excitedly, then led them up the stairs.
They followed her down the hallway to the last room on the right. Sydney opened the door.
“This is where I sleep,” she explained. “Izzy and you will sleep in here with me and two of the other girls.”
There was one single mattress tucked away in the corner of the room, which Sydney had found discarded on a side street in Kensington. She had dragged it back to the house alone and made it her very own bed. The other three “beds” were rolled-up sleeping bags and pillows.
“Do you have any sleeping bags or blankets with you?” Sydney asked hopefully.
“Yeah, I have some blankets in the trunk of my car,” Emma told her.
As they went to fetch Emma’s meager belongings they discussed where their lives had taken them since they had last seen each other as homeless kids. That night, as they all settled down to sleep, Izzy got out from under the covers and went over to Sydney, who gave her a big smile.
“Hey there, beautiful,” she said to the child, “it’s time to go sleep.”
Izzy smiled back. “I want to sleep with you,” she said boldly.
Sydney laughed. “Okay, then. Whatever you say, but no kicking,” she teased, moving over to make room for the child.
Emma smiled at them from where she lay. Sydney was easy to like. She was so sweet and generous with the little she owned. Emma was glad they had run into her. Because of her, they had a place to sleep, with the safety that came from having lots of people around them.
Emma was excited about starting her new job the next morning. She didn’t care that she wouldn’t be earning anywhere near the income she had at Doubles. It was a first step in the right direction, she thought. She knew Gracie would be proud of her for leaving Ethan and moving on with Izzy to start over. She knew that things were about to change.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Back in Ambler, two weeks had passed, and Ethan was still searching for Emma. He was pissed off that she had the nerve to run from him. He had threatened her that she would never get away from him, and he intended to make good on his claim. Ethan sat on the sofa, trying to figure out where to look for them next.
As his temper boiled over, he got up and kicked at a blanket that had been thrown in the corner of the room. It flew off, revealing the duffle bag Emma had used for work. In a rage now, he snatched it up and emptied out its contents on the floor, looking for a clue that might give him a hint of where the bitch had gone. The last thing to fall out of the bag was Gracie’s journal.
Ethan picked it up and looked it over as if it were a foreign object. Then he began leafing through the pages. Initially, there was nothing but a bunch of little-girl bullshit, but further on, he came upon Gracie’s entry, recording the events of the first night he had raped her. Slowly he realized why Emma had turned against him without warning. That fucking bitch read this shit, he thought. He kept reading, unable to stop himself, until he got to the part where Gracie had confronted him about her pregnancy.
“Fucking stupid little whore!” he cursed aloud.
Ethan blamed his break-up with Emma on Gracie. He had been furious when she decided to keep the baby. A kid had never figured into his plans, and when he found out Gracie was pregnant, he had kept beating her in the hope that she would miscarry.
Ethan called Pete. “Yo! I need to find Emma,” he said. “She ain’t getting away from me this easy. You have any luck?”
“No,” Pete told him. “Nothing yet. I’ll keep you posted, though. All the guys at the bar are keeping an eye out for her. Don’t worry, she’ll turn up. And if she doesn’t, you can find another girl.”
“Fuck you, Pete! I don’t want another girl. I want her. That bitch belongs to me. Do you understand? She needs to come home and get her ass back to Doubles. I had to borrow money from my stupid-ass mother this month to pay the fucking rent on this dump. Just keep looking!”
“God, dude, okay! Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Chill the fuck out,” Pete shot back.
Ethan hung up the phone, pulled out one of Emma’s costumes, and ripped it to shreds.
“You fucking whore!” he screamed to the empty apartment. “When I get my hands on you, I’m going to tear your ass up!”
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Emma fell into the pattern of her new life quickly. She was fond of almost all the other tenants she shared the house with except for one doper named Jamie. He was stoned all the time and she didn’t like his raunchy sense of humor or sarcasm. However, she loved having so many people around her all the time. They worked together to make the house run well and keep each other safe. Most of the housemates were wonderful with Izzy. When Sydney wasn’t available to keep an eye on the child while Emma worked, the others took turns watching her. She couldn’t have asked for a better situation than the present one and was grateful for all that had happened to them recently.
Emma’s only concern was that some of the housemates liked to party excessively. They drank and smoked pot, although they avoided the hard-core stuff. She discussed the issue with them and they came to an agreement that they wouldn’t smoke dope in front of Izzy. Emma also made sure that she never left the child with any of the pot smokers or heavy drinkers when she went to work. She always worried they might in some way harm her niece, who was now like a daughter to her.
Izzy, however, was clearly happy in that house. When Emma was at work, the child spent a lot of her time hanging out with Sydney. The two had forged a special bond, and the teenager felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for Izzy, perhaps because she derived some kind of emotional fulfillment from caring for someone the way she herself had longed to be cared for as a child. Whatever the reason, the two were inseparable.
Sydney was smart and pretty. She had large brown eyes and light brown hair. Because of her petite frame, she looked good in whatever she wore, even though it was always second-hand. Emma was happy to see that she had survived the streets and never forgot how she had helped Brianna, Gracie, and her when they had just left home.
Having grown up on the streets, Sydney was quick to snap when anyone got in her face. She was not easily intimidated and never backed down if you did her wrong. Emma implicitly trusted her and felt that Izzy was safe with her.
In the mornings, when Emma was sleeping, Sydney would take Izzy into Center City, where they be
gged for money and visited the different historical sites Philadelphia had to offer. Emma wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of Izzy begging with Sydney, but she knew some compromise was unavoidable if she wanted Izzy to be looked after.
Things had worked out well for Emma at Bar 210. Within two weeks of her starting her new job, Eileen had given her the dinner shift. Emma was a responsible employee, and it wasn’t just the men among the customers who liked her; the women did too, for she was sweet and kind and attentive to their needs.
When Emma hung out with Izzy and Sydney, they chatted and played games for hours. Izzy had become fascinated with board games from the short day and a half she had spent with Lucy.
“Aunt Emma, I want to play games like the ones Lucy played with me. Can you buy me some games?” she asked one night when the three girls were hanging out talking and watching Izzy color.
Emma couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Izzy. “How about if I give you and Sydney money, and tomorrow, when I’m at work, you go out and buy a game? But that’s only if Sydney agrees to take you.”
Sydney smiled mischievously at Izzy. “Well, I don’t know,” she drawled. “I might have some important things to do tomorrow. I guess if Izzy gave me lots of hugs and kisses, I might be able to find the time.”
The little girl scrambled to her feet from the floor, where she had been sitting next to Emma, and flung herself into Sydney’s outstretched arms, planting kisses on her face and nearly strangling her with a tight hug.
Sydney burst out laughing. “Okay, Okay!” she exclaimed, conceding defeat. “We’ll go to the store tomorrow and buy you a game. You win!”
“This is going to be so great!” Izzy announced. “I’m gonna be the best game player ever!” She looked at Sydney. “Guess what, Syd?” she said suddenly. “I’m gonna be a lawyer when I grow up.”
“I’m sure you will, little woman,” Sydney responded with conviction, assured in her belief that Izzy would be whatever she wanted to be. “I think you’ll make a great lawyer. You’re definitely smart enough and you’re bossy too, for a three-year-old.”
“I’m almost four!” Izzy protested, but a satisfied smile played on her lips. Not only was she getting to buy a game, she could also be a lawyer when she grew up. Then a thought struck her. “Sydney? What do you want to be when you grow up? Maybe you can help me be a lawyer?”
Sydney and Emma chuckled at the child’s willingness to allow her friend to be something that could help her in the long run.
“How about if you figure out what game you want to buy first, before you plan out your whole life and mine?” Sydney suggested, running her hand fondly through Izzy’s hair.
“I already know what game I want, Syd,” the little girl replied indignantly. “I want Chutes and Ladders. That’s my favorite one, because that’s the one Lucy played with me.”
“Oh, all righty then, I see you already know what you want,” Syd remarked.
“Aunt Em? When can we go see Lucy again?”
“Soon, baby, real soon,” Emma said soothingly. “Right now I’m busy working, but in a couple of weeks, we can go to the park where you first met Lucy. Remember that park?”
Izzy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Of course I remember, Aunt Em!” she exclaimed with a touch of exasperation, as though her aunt had just questioned the obvious. “I love that park! It’s my favorite one ever!”
“Hmm, well that’s interesting, since it’s the only park you’ve ever been to,” Emma said wryly, then leaned over and tickled her niece until she begged her to stop.
Before Emma knew it fall had faded into winter. Two days before Thanksgiving, on a bitterly cold night, the group decided to celebrate the holiday by preparing a sumptuous dinner. No one in the herd, apart from Sydney, who had some knowledge of Emma’s past, was aware of her consummate culinary skills. Few could have guessed that she had honed those skills while cooking meals for her family from a tender age. As Emma roamed around the kitchen with her friend, planning their grocery-shopping list, Sydney felt the time had come to ask her some of the questions that had been playing in her mind since they’d arrived to live in the house.
“Em?” she now asked hesitantly. “What was Ethan like? You said when you first met him that he was really nice. Then after a while he started treating you like shit. What did he actually do to you?”
“Well, Syd, he’s a total asshole,” Emma replied. Then her voice dropped to a whisper. “I found out that he’d raped Gracie. He’s Izzy’s father.”
Sydney gaped at her. Every time Emma disclosed a fact, she was left wondering how, after living through such terrible ordeals, she could still be so resilient. Sydney knew that Emma had been beaten as a child, that she had lost her parents, and that her sister had died. And she had just learned that Gracie had not only been raped, but borne her rapist a child—Izzy.
“Well, I mean, what did he do to you, Em?” she persisted.
Emma put down the pen she was writing with and wondered if she should tell her friend the whole truth. Her gut told her to share every detail of her sordid experiences with Sydney. Maybe someday it would save her from a similar fate.
“He hit me,” she said. “He berated and insulted me and accused me all the time of being stupid. He called me a whore and a slut for working at Doubles. But the worst he put me through, when I refused to obey him, was to put a gun to Izzy’s head and pull the trigger. The gun wasn’t loaded, but I didn’t know that then. Then he threatened me that the next time it would be loaded.”
Sydney gasped. “Fuck, Em! He’s a crazy prick.” She sprang to her feet and came to stand next to Emma. “He won’t ever see Izzy again,” she said with conviction. “We’ll protect her.”
Emma reflected on what her life had been like with Ethan. She had not only lost her sister, but a great deal of herself during that time. She hoped that Sydney was right about them never having to see Ethan again. If she did ever see him, Emma promised herself, it would only be as a God-given opportunity to kill him. Dead was the only way she ever wanted to see him again.
Chapter Seventy
Izzy woke up excited on Thanksgiving Day. The house was buzzing with conversation as everyone discussed the big dinner Emma was planning. The little girl had helped her aunt make pumpkin pies the night before. Emma had even let her mix the pie batter.
Izzy ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Aunt Em, Syd! Happy Thanksgiving!”
The two looked up from their work and gave the child a hug. Sydney was cutting pieces of bread to use for the stuffing.
“Syd, can I help you cut the bread?” Izzy asked.
Sydney hoisted her up on the chair next to where she stood and let her rip the bread into small pieces. As they worked and chatted, Earl, a herd member, came into the kitchen.
“Man, it sure smells good in here!” he remarked.
“Well, you don’t smell very good!” Izzy commented disapprovingly. “You better go take a shower or you’re not going to get to eat with us.”
Earl walked over to the little girl and gave her a big, affectionate hug. “What do you mean I smell?” he said, pretending to sound offended. “Boy, you sure are bossy!”
“EWWWW!” Izzy shrieked, pulling away from him. “Get off me!”
The teenager laughed and went off to take a shower. On his way there, he wondered if the others thought he smelled too. He didn’t have a steady job, and while he showered fairly regularly, he was losing the incentive to wash his clothes as often as he should.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say to Earl, was it?” Sydney asked Izzy. “He doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on clothes,” she explained. “We should always be nice to everyone who lives in the house, ya know.”
Izzy was defiant, shaking her head from side to side. “Well, Syd,” she retorted, “he stinks. You can’t stink on Thanksgiving.”
Emma butted in. “Izzy, there was a time when I used to stink too. So did your mom. We didn’t have anywhere to live and w
e couldn’t take showers.”
Izzy looked perplexed. “You used to smell?”
“Yeah. We didn’t want to smell, but couldn’t help it, because we couldn’t take a shower.”
“Well, Earl can take a shower,” Izzy stated.
Emma gave her an exasperated look. “You know, I think you’ll make a great lawyer!”
Izzy had a magnetic personality and was the kind of kid people wanted to be around. She could be both sassy and compassionate. She was straightforward and able to see things clearly, like most children her age. For Izzy, truth had no boundaries. Emma hoped that her niece would always be able to see the world as clearly and that nothing would ever happen to cloud her vision.
After a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner, Sydney and Emma settled in their bedroom. Sydney wasn’t done with their earlier conversation, however. She really wanted to know Emma better, even if it meant prying. She idolized her and considered her the ultimate role model.
“Dinner was delicious!” she began, then quickly broached the topic that had been on her mind. “You know, I don’t really understand, Em. You’re such a strong person and you were so close to Gracie. Why do you think she didn’t tell you Ethan had raped her?”
Emma pondered the question for a long time. Then the answer came to her.
“Because she thought that I would hate her for having sex with Ethan. He fucked with her mind and I think he convinced her that it was all her fault. You have no idea how much I wish she had told me what was happening. I feel like I let her down. She put up with all kinds of crazy shit from him. It really bothers me, Syd,” she confessed.
Sydney listened to her in silence, thinking about her own life on the streets since she was eleven and comparing it to the horrors Emma and Gracie had been through. Suddenly her own situation didn’t seem quite so bad. At least she had always been able to love and care for people, she reasoned.
“Well, I think you’re wonderful, Em,” Sydney told her.