I, of course, turned on my son. ‘Why in the hell didn’t you call the police immediately?’ I demanded. ‘You had your cell phone, right?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, squirming in his seat. ‘I . . . well, I thought . . . I dunno,’ he finally said.
Luna was staring at my son with sympathy in her eyes. Where she got off being sympathetic to my son I’ll never know. ‘What?’ I said to her, or shouted maybe.
‘Out necking with his girlfriend, maybe doing something he thought he shouldn’t be doing . . .’
‘Were you having sex?’ I demanded.
‘Gawd, Mom!’
‘Before they could even get to thinking that part through, someone starts shooting at them. In his head he knows it’s the stalker, in his gut he’s thinking it’s everyone who doesn’t want them even thinking about having sex,’ Luna said.
Graham just stared at Luna for a long minute, then said, ‘Get out of my head.’
‘Sorry, son, but I’m a cop and a mom. I seem to stay there,’ she said. ‘That’s why you didn’t call it in. You felt guilty. Like you’d done something wrong. A good night’s sleep, and it all worked itself out and you knew what you had to do.’
‘Ma’am, please get out of my head,’ Graham said.
Just then the front door opened and my husband walked in. I recognized him, but just barely.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked immediately.
‘Hey, Dad,’ Graham said sheepishly.
‘What did you do?’ Willis demanded.
‘Nothing!’ Graham shouted. ‘Jeez!’
So the three of us told Willis about the night before, with Luna explicitly laying out her theory as to why Graham didn’t call it in. Somehow I didn’t expect Willis’s response.
‘Leave the boy alone,’ he said, standing from his sitting position. ‘Y’all don’t even know.’ Turning to our son, he said, ‘Let’s go for a walk.’
BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, 1999
Willis and I went to sleep that night, huddled in each other’s arms, feeling safe for the first time since I’d walked into the house next door. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up coughing. I hadn’t smoked since graduating college – why was I coughing like I’d just smoked a pack? Then I woke all the way up.
The house was on fire. I grabbed Willis and shook him. ‘Wake up!’ I screamed.
‘We’re on fire!’
I grabbed the telephone next to the bed and dialed 911. Nothing happened. I depressed the button and listened. No dial tone. Willis was still asleep next to me. I hit him and hit him, finally kicking him to the floor where there was air to breathe. He woke up on impact, groggy but awake.
‘The house is on fire!’ I yelled. I grabbed the journal still sitting on my bedside table and crawled down to where my husband was on the floor.
Finally awake, Willis yelled, ‘The kids!’
I grabbed him. ‘They’re at your aunt’s house – remember?’
He nodded and we crawled towards the window. We opened it and kicked out the screen, crawling on to the roof over the breakfast room. Smoke billowed out of our open window. We heard a crash from below and flames leaped out of the living-room window.
Willis said, ‘I’ll jump first then catch you.’
‘No,’ I said flatly.
‘Honey, just do it! Which are you most scared of? Breaking a leg or burning to death?’ With those as his last words, he jumped on the grass in the backyard, landing hard on his left leg. Struggling, he stood up, holding out his hands for me.
‘Jump, baby!’ he yelled.
I looked at him and beyond – at Rosemary Rush coming up behind my husband with a five-gallon metal gasoline can. I’d barely begun to scream when she hit him on the back of the head.
GRAHAM, THE PRESENT
Instead of a walk, Dad and I drove to the basketball court next to the community swimming pool. The girls were already at the pool, and when they saw Dad they came running over to the court, all wet with way too much skin showing. Except the new girl, what’s-her-name. She had on a one-piece and I was amazed that there was an actual body under that stuff she usually wore. Not a bad little bod, either.
The new kid hung back as the other two jumped all over Dad, making complete asses of themselves.
‘Well,’ Dad said, straightening up, hands on hips. ‘I’ll see y’all back at the house. Why don’t you head back to the pool?’
‘OK!’ Megan said, jumping up on Dad to hug him again. Serious PDA. And finally they were gone.
Dad threw me the ball, and I dribbled down the court and made a basket from mid-line.
‘Ha! Think you’re a smart ass, huh, boy?’ Dad said, grabbing the ball, bouncing it once and hitting the basket.
I grabbed the ball and he started his defense, blocking my every move. The dude’s like Elastic Man, arms everywhere. Finally I got a clear field and fired. And missed the basket.
‘So, about last night,’ Dad said, grabbing the ball. I went into defensive mode, but I’m not Elastic Man. He made a basket and I grabbed the ball.
He was all over me. ‘What about it?’ I asked, breathing hard.
‘You gotta watch where you go, son,’ he said, managing to grab the ball the one time I tried to dribble it.
‘Shit!’ I said, then apologized.
‘Just you and me, no problem.’
‘What do you mean, watch where I go?’ I asked.
‘A deserted stretch of road at night? Great for necking, son, but not when there’s a stalker on the loose,’ Dad said.
‘Yeah. I didn’t think he was after me or Lotta. Thought he was after just Liz,’ I said, distracting him enough to get the ball back without him scoring.
He laughed. ‘Good one, kid,’ he said as he lunged for the ball. I got my back to him, circled him and threw it. Score!
‘What you did was right on. You should have probably called the cops at that moment, but the chances of them catching this guy were pretty remote,’ he said. He’d captured the ball and was holding it under his arm. ‘Don’t let the women intimidate you, son. You did good, whatever the reasons. You got Lotta and yourself out of there, and the only injuries were to the Valiant.’
‘About that, Dad,’ I said. ‘Mrs Luna said the county victims’ assistance program might pick up part of the price to fix her up.’
‘Daddy!’ Megan called from the front of the pool. ‘Can we get a ride home? We’re pooped!’
‘Be right there!’ Dad called back. He put his arm around my neck. ‘Don’t worry about it, son. What they don’t pay for I’ll pick up. We’ll get that heap primo in no time.’
We walked together to the car. I was feeling pretty good.
E.J., THE PRESENT
‘So how long are you home for?’ I asked my husband as we snuggled in bed. The snuggling was my idea. I was gonna make him beg.
He leaned up on one elbow and smiled down at me. ‘It’s done,’ he said.
I figured that was enough begging.
Later as we lay in bed, he said, ‘No more Houston, thank God. One more dinner with your parents and I would have killed either your father or me.’
‘Don’t be mean. My dad’s getting old. It makes him mean.’
Willis laughed. ‘Honey, you forget. He’s always been mean.’
‘Well, to do him justice, he’s only been mean to the husbands, well, shall we say spouses.’ The correction was due to one of my sisters who decided, after twenty-odd years of marriage and two children, that she was a lesbian.
‘I’m just glad you’re home for good,’ I said. ‘It’s been scary here without you.’
He hugged me to him. ‘Really bad timing, huh?’ he said. ‘This stalker guy must be terrifying for you.’
I sat up in bed. ‘Oh, hell, honey, it’s not him! It’s Lotta! I think she’s going to deflower our son.’
I fell asleep before Willis stopped laughing.
ELIZABETH, APRIL, 2009
Behind Tommy/Aldon was a window and Elizabeth could
see someone at it. She had no idea who it was, a Hispanic boy she didn’t recognize. Who was he? Was he with Graham or with this man who held them both at knifepoint? She looked to Graham, who smiled and nodded at her. She hoped he meant the guy at the window was with him. But she wasn’t sure what good it was going to do. The window was closed and it looked as if it had been painted over a thousand times. No way was that window coming open.
The face disappeared from the window and seconds later a heavy branch crashed through the glass. Tommy/Aldon whirled around and, when he did, Graham jumped forward, yelling, ‘Liz, run!’ as he did so.
She ran through the door, but stopped on the shallow porch, unable to move further as she watched through the open door as Graham tried to wrestle the knife from Tommy/Aldon. Someone grabbed her from behind. Elizabeth swung around, ready to take on whoever it was, but found Megan pulling at her. She threw her arms around her sister.
Just as she did, Tommy/Aldon came running out the open door, almost knocking over both girls.
‘I got him!’ yelled the Hispanic kid who took off after him. Megan and Elizabeth ran into the shack.
Graham lay on the floor. Elizabeth could see no blood. ‘Are you all right?’ she demanded, kneeling by him. ‘Did he cut you?’
Graham lifted his head. ‘Naw. Just knocked the wind out of me. Where is he?’
‘Manny ran after him,’ Megan said.
‘Who’s Manny?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘Long story,’ Graham said. To Megan, he said, ‘Go shout for the others.’
Megan got up and ran out of the cabin while Elizabeth asked, ‘What others?’
‘Come here,’ Graham said.
Elizabeth moved to him and he took her in his arms. ‘You OK?’ he asked, kissing her on the forehead.
‘Yeah,’ she said, curling up in his arms. ‘But I think you saved my life.’
‘Yeah, well, we superheroes are like that, ya know,’ her brother answered.
Megan came back in with a limping Manny, his arm around her shoulder.
‘You better be injured, bro,’ Graham said, ‘or I’m cutting your arm off.’
‘Hey, man, I fell down. Think I broke my foot!’ Manny said.
‘It’s probably a sprain,’ Megan said.
Graham stood up, pulling Elizabeth to her feet. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said.
Once outside, as Manny limped toward his cousins who were coming up the trail, Graham pulled both girls into his arms, hugging them to him. After a few seconds, Megan touched the top of her head, bringing back moisture on her hand.
Looking up at her brother, she said, ‘Are you crying?’
Graham pushed both girls away, holding them at arm’s length. ‘If you ever mention this to anyone, I’ll kill you both. Severely.’
‘Mention what?’ Elizabeth said.
Graham smiled at her, holding up his hand for a high five. Elizabeth reached up, slapping his hand with hers.
Megan said, ‘I know what. Graham cri—’
Elizabeth elbowed her sister in the ribs. ‘Ow! Jeez, can’t a girl have any fun?’ Megan wailed.
Putting his arms around the shoulders of his sisters, Graham led them down the trail and out of the woods. ‘I think we’ve had enough fun for one night,’ he said.
ELIZABETH, THE PRESENT
I’m glad Dad’s home. It just feels better to have the whole family together, plus one. Until Mom gets the furniture for Alicia’s room, she’ll be taking turns sleeping in my room and then Megan’s. That way nobody is left out and Alicia seems OK with it. Of course, Alicia would seem OK if one of us said, ‘Alicia, we need another hand here. Would you please cut yours off?’
I think she’s afraid to disagree with anything or anyone. Afraid we’ll send her away. I guess I was too young to think like that when Mom and Dad took me in. Or maybe just too traumatized to actually think anything. I don’t know why, but having Alicia here makes me feel more a part of the family, maybe because she’s the new kid now. Is that unfair? Probably.
There was a lot more hidden under that baggy jumper Alicia always wore than just a cute figure. And there’s more to her story than just a junky birth mom and a bad foster mom. Or maybe that’s enough. I just hope someday she’ll open up to me – just open up period. I was hurting for her – OK, and maybe a bit embarrassed – when she seemed so afraid of my dad. I’ve seen TV movies where foster girls and runaways and girls like that have reason to be afraid of foster fathers and other men in authority, but I always figured that was exaggerated.
And maybe, to be honest, maybe I’m not really all that worried about Alicia; maybe I’m using her so as not to think about the craziness around me. Like this stalker guy. Why? I mean, why is he doing this to me? What have I ever done to him? And it’s not just me! It’s my whole family, and anyone who gets close to me! Like Myra, and one of those biker dudes who got shot, and Alicia, and even Megan! And now Graham and Lotta! I really can’t stand it, ya know? I really can’t. And I can only think of two ways to stop this: kill myself, or go with him. Well, maybe a third: kill him.
NINETEEN
Ihave a new plan. This one is going to work. Bessie will be with me forever. The others – some will go to Heaven, others will go to Hell, where they belong!
E.J., THE PRESENT
It’s funny how life goes on. We had this new plague hanging over our heads, this stalker out to hurt Elizabeth and possibly the rest of us, and yet we settled in. With Willis back there was a butt-load of laundry, suits and dress shirts to the dry cleaners, and it was going to be necessary to fix real meals, instead of sandwiches or take-out. OK, if I sound like Suzy-Homemaker, I’m not. It’s just that Willis and I made a deal a long time ago. If I wanted to stay home and write, then I would be in charge of kids and house, while he held up the manly end by bringing home the bacon and mowing the lawn. Unfortunately I put in no proviso to change things when and if I brought home more bacon sitting at my computer under the stairs than he did in his big old office. And there have been years where that proved to be true. Still and all, the house is mine. And the laundry.
Megan and Elizabeth appeared to be using poor Alicia as a Barbie Doll. They’d try out different outfits, from Alicia’s small closet and from each of the girls – mix and match – do her hair in various dos, and bring her downstairs for my approval. After three days of this I decided to put a stop to it.
They came down the stairs, dragging Alicia as usual, and presented her. She had on a pair of skintight, ultra-short blue jean cut-offs, over-the-knee socks that were horizontal stripes of magenta, periwinkle, and mauve, Lucite stacked three-inch ho shoes they found in the back of my closet (Halloween costume – don’t ask), and a tie-dye scarf they’d tied around her chest making a strapless top with no back and very little front.
‘Girls, who gave you permission to go into my closet?’
This left Alicia, as usual, speechless, while Megan and Elizabeth began literally pointing fingers at each other. ‘Never mind,’ I finally said. ‘Take the shoes back upstairs before Alicia falls down, but leave Alicia here, please.’
I smiled at Alicia; she tucked her head down and refused to look at me.
‘Mom! It’s not Alicia’s fault . . .’ Elizabeth started.
‘I’m not saying it is. I know, actually, that it’s not. I have something else to talk to her about and I would like to do it in peace. So please take the shoes, like I told you, upstairs to my closet then go to whoever’s room you were in, and stay there. Alicia will be up in a minute.’
Megan and Elizabeth looked at Alicia’s back, then each other. Then me. I smiled. They didn’t seem to accept that at face value, but resolutely had Alicia sit down so they could take off her (my) shoes, and then headed upstairs, glancing down at Alicia and me as long as they could without getting their heads stuck between staircase and ceiling. Finally they were gone.
Alicia sat before me with her face made up like a child playing with make-up, which I guess they really were, and
in her modified ho outfit (minus the shoes), and looked at her lap.
‘Look up, Alicia.’ She did, catching my eye, but she couldn’t hold it. She looked to the side.
‘Are you going to lie to me?’ I asked her.
She jerked and looked me in the eye. ‘No, ma’am!’ she said.
‘Then please look at my face. I know it’s hard to keep eye contact when you’re not used to it, but I hope, between the two of us, we’ll get you there.’ She nodded her head and looked into her lap. I put a finger out and raised her chin up.
‘Oh! Sorry,’ she breathed.
‘I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Alicia. But you need to try to look people in the face when they talk to you. And,’ I said, taking a deep breath, ‘you need to stand up for yourself. Do you like playing dress-up every day?’
She shrugged. ‘Sure,’ she said, her chin going down.
‘Uh-oh,’ I said. ‘Your chin went down. Are you telling an untruth?’
She shrugged again, her head down. Finally she lifted her face to mine. ‘I’m not crazy about it,’ she said.
‘Then tell the girls that. You are not their new Barbie Doll.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said, her head going back down.
‘OK, that’s an untruth. I can tell by your body language,’ I told her.
Her head came up. ‘You can?’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘How?’
‘Honey, I hate to say it, but you’re pretty easy to read. If your head goes down after a straight affirmative or negative statement, then you’re probably lying.’
She thought about that for a moment. ‘Huh,’ she said.
‘Which means you’re not going to tell the girls you don’t want to play dress-up,’ I said.
‘Ohhhh,’ she said, thinking hard about it.
‘I love my daughters, Alicia, but they will run all over you given half the chance. You need to learn early to stand up for yourself. What would you rather be doing than playing dress up?’
Her answer was quick. ‘Going swimming! We only have a few weeks left before school starts and the pool closes.’ Her smile was huge. ‘I’d never been in a pool before, and I really like it. I think I’d like to learn to swim.’
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