Someone was on a bullhom outside. "PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON AND COME OUT OF THE HOUSE!"
Joe's head turned. He let go of Bobby, gave her a little shove, moved toward the windows, peered out to have a look-see what was going on out there.
"Penny, do you think you can do something for me?"
"I don't know. What?"
"Do you think you can get upstairs to the kitchen and open the back
door to let in the officers?"
Penny thought about it, decided she had to do it even if she was scared, and said, "Uh-hunh."
"Okay, sweetheart. You be real careful now. Okay?"
"Okay."
Penny put the receiver down and crawled out from behind the sofa. She hesitated for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, listening. She thought she could hear Granny talking. She started up the stairs, going as quietly as she could, arrived at the kitchen door and very carefully pushed it open, looked over in the direction of the living room, then at the back door, then again at the living room. The 911 lady said she should, so it had to be okay. She ran tiptoe over to the door, tried to open it, but the chain was on and she couldn't reach it. Mouth open, breathing hard, she ran and grabbed hold of one of the chairs, trying to hurry, but the chair was really heavy and she couldn't lift it, had to push it over to the door. Then she climbed up and got the chain off the door.
Somebody pushed the door open and another somebody picked her up, whispering, "Good girl. You'll be okay now," and carried her out, running. It was cold and Penny's teeth started chattering. The man carrying her was all dark and she asked, "Are you a policeman?" and he said, "That's right, honey," and kept running with her, all the way to the street, where he opened a car door and set her down on the back seat. Another policeman put a blanket around her and said, "Sit here now, sweetheart. Okay?"
"You gonna get my mom?" she asked, watching out the window as a lot of dark men went running back to the house. "Don't worry. We'll get her. She'll be real proud of you. You've done a great job." Penny put her thumb in her mouth and watched anxiously through the car window.
Joe was busy at the window, shouting at the police officers outside, his hand with the gun swinging back and forth as he glanced around the room every few seconds, trying to keep it all together but coming unglued because he was losing it. Bobby waited until he turned again to the window, then ran over to Dennis and knelt beside him, asking in a whisper, "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Playing possum. It's only a graze," he murmured, eyes on Joe. "Better get back over there."
"I'm sorry, Dennis."
"Sshhh. It's okay."
"What the fuck're you doing?" Joe screamed at her. "Get the hell over here now!"
She stood up, gauging the distance between herself and Joe, between herself and the front door. This had to end. As if unable to help himself, Joe's head turned again to the window, the gun making another undirected swing through the air. She looked over at Eva and mouthed, I'm sorry. Eva's hand flew up, as if to stop her.
He'd kill her anyway, one way or another, sooner or later. It was meant to end that way; she'd always known it. "I'm going out the door, Joe," she said loudly and clearly, then turned and stepped past Dennis, convinced he'd shoot her in the back, but she had to do whatever she could to get him out of this house. And she knew he'd follow her. He didn't care about anybody else here; he'd only ever cared about seeing her dead. Penny would be looked after; Alma had told her that. They were fine people; they'd give her a good life, better than she ever could.
She got to the door, put a hand on the knob, turned it, heart in her mouth, wind rushing in her ears. Footsteps pounded behind her. She did-n't turn, wouldn't, couldn't. Opened the door. A roar from Joe—an incoherent bellow of rage. I love you, Pen, she thought, trying to swallow, but the fear wouldn't let her. Then, one on top of the other, two more ear-shattering detonations and she flinched, waiting for the pain, saying good-bye to Pen. I love you, I love you. Nothing.
She turned, not understanding, saw Joe stagger, a man with a gun in the kitchen doorway, and Joe still aiming the gun at her, still moving toward her. Another shot. Joe flew back, colliding with the wall, his hand with the gun falling, his body sliding down the wall, leaving smears of blood on the paint, his eyes astounded. They stayed that way, even when he stopped moving. She stood rigid, waiting for him to give her one of his evil smiles, waiting for him to get up and chase her into the night.
Dennis slowly stood, his hand still inside his coat, as police officers surged into the house followed by medics and more members of the SWAT team. Rooted in place, Bobby couldn't take her eyes off Joe. Then she remembered Penny and in a sudden panic darted to the kitchen, headed for the apartment. But one of the SWAT team officers stopped her with a hand on her arm, and she turned to look at him. He was speaking but she could scarcely hear him. She shook her head to hear better, eyes on his mouth, trying to make out what he was saying and at the same time trying to free herself of his grip, needing to get to Penny.
"She's outside, in a patrol car," the officer said again, more slowly and louder.
Bobby blinked rapidly, wanting to be sure of what she was hearing, her eyes leaving the officer's mouth, sliding past him to look into the living room where people were swarming over Alma and Eva. Ambulance attendants were leading Dennis out of the house. She looked again at Joe. Someone had thrown a blanket over him, cutting off his stupefied gaze. She felt a tugging at her arm and understood at last that the officer wanted her to go with him. Crazed with concern for Penny, determined to get to her the instant the police were done with her, she allowed herself to be directed out of the house and led down the driveway to where all kinds of police cars were parked every which way, blocking the road.
The officer opened the back door of one of the patrol cars, indicating Bobby should get in. She ducked down, looked inside.
Penny, wrapped in a blanket, broke into a huge smile, exclaiming, "Mom!" and threw out her arms, the blanket sliding off her.
Bobby reached out, wrapped her arms around her little girl, closed her eyes, and held Penny tight to her chest. It was over. Once and forever, it was over. A sob shook her, and she held Penny even more tightly.
After
Penny was upstairs with Melissa in her bedroom, both of them occupied with the coloring books, markers, and crayons Bobby had brought back for Penny from Jamestown; coloring and listening to one of Melissa's Grateful Dead tapes. Alma was taking her afternoon nap. Eva had gone for a walk with Charlie. And Bobby was sitting in the kitchen opposite Dennis, mugs of coffee steaming on the table.
Bobby lit a Marlboro, trying to figure out where to begin. The truth was always best, she decided. "I thought maybe I'd never hear from you again. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to know about me."
"But I explained to Eva that the substitute was only temporary," he said, "until I could get back to work. And I couldn't call you in Jamestown because you forgot to leave me a number where I could reach you. Eva told me when you'd be back, so I waited, hoping you'd call again."
"I was kind of glad I only got your answering machine," she admitted. "I didn't really know what I wanted to say to you. I wasn't sure what you'd think."
"Bobby, nobody blames you for what happened."
"I feel as if they should," she said, her eyes on the steam rising from her coffee. "I'm trying hard not to feel that way, especially since everybody's being so nice about it, but … " She shrugged, thinking maybe she'd go see the psychiatrist Charlie had told her about. She needed somebody professional, somebody official, in a way, to tell her she hadn't done anything wrong. Then she might start actually believing it. But right now it was hard. She still had a lot of trouble accepting that Aunt Helen was dead, that she'd never see her again. She thanked God every day that Joe was dead; it felt almost wicked, how grateful she was to have him gone.
"Listen," Dennis said, putting a hand on her arm. "I think everybody feels the same way I do: that we got off lightly. Eva got a bruise o
r two, Alma has a couple of cracked ribs that're healing nicely, I got a minor flesh wound, and Pen wound up a bona fide heroine with her picture in the paper. It could've been a hell of a lot worse."
"I know that," she said, her voice huskier than usual. Pen had saved their lives. It was incredible.
"What're you going to do about everything back in Jamestown?" he asked. "I'm assuming you're planning to stay on here."
She looked over at the doorway, as if expecting to see Alma and Eva, a note of surprise in her voice as she said, "I was so sure they'd want us to go."
"I don't know why you'd think that," he said, trying a coaxing smile on her. "I told you: Nobody blames you. So what would be the point of upsetting the status quo? You've got an arrangement here that works."
Her arm moved, and he thought she was pulling away from him. But her hand, scarcely larger than Penny's, slipped into his. He knew right then that eventually everything was going to be okay.
She took another puff of the Marlboro and said, "Aunt Helen's lawyer's taking care of everything. He's arranging for the Salvation Army to take all the stuff from my old house. We only rented that place, you know. It wasn't ours. He's getting people in to clean it up so the owner can rent it again. It was a terrible mess." She shook her head, remembering the panic she'd felt stepping through the front door a week earlier. Just being in the house had scared her so much she couldn't wait to get out. She'd only stayed long enough to fill up a box with Pen's books and toys. Everything else she'd left. She preferred to do without rather than have any reminders of her old life. "The other house," she went on after a time, "the house I grew up in, I thought a lot about what I wanted to do. See, my aunt had insurance, a couple of policies. I never knew that. But the money'll come to me. And the dealership people, they gave me Aunt Helen's car, said I should keep it. Everybody's been so kind."
"I saw it outside," Dennis said, keeping a gentle hold on her hand. "I was wondering."
"They didn't have to do that," she said, tapping the ash off her cigarette, looking everywhere but at him. "But they said it was only right. They all came to the funeral." She had to stop for a moment and took a swallow of coffee to ease her throat. "So many people came. She had a lot of friends." She coughed, took another puff of her cigarette, then at last met Dennis's eyes. "I'm turning the property over to the shelter people so they can use it for a safe house. The lawyer said I was crazy, but if that's what I wanted, he'd make the arrangements. You think it's crazy?"
"No," he said, meeting her eyes. "Not a bit."
"I like to think maybe some other woman and her little girl will be safe in my house, maybe even sleep in my old room. It makes me feel better, thinking that. And I'm paying Eva back for fixing the window and replacing the hall carpet, painting the wall. She got all impatient. You know the way she does." She smiled for the first time since he arrived. "She started saying it was absolutely unnecessary. But Alma said, 'Let her do it.'" She imitated Alma's gruff bark, her smile growing wider. "And Eva said okay. But she still thought it was ridiculous. That made me feel a bit better, too." She lowered her eyes, her smile dimming, then raised them again. "I was so glad when you called. I thought maybe … Well, I guess I've already told you that."
"I wanted to give you some time to get settled back in here. And, anyway, I had to take it easy for a little while, until I got the stitches out. Now I'm almost as good as new. Want to see?" he asked, making as if to lift his sweater.
She flushed, smiled again, and said, "No!" her eyes going to the doorway, then returning to him. "You're being a real … really good sport about all this, Dennis."
"No, I'm not. I'm simply being realistic, like everyone else. There's no reason why anyone would want to hold you responsible for what Joe did. Although there's one thing I should say, and that is this: I didn't one hundred percent buy the picture you painted of him. In the back of my mind I kept thinking he couldn't be as bad as you made him out to be. But he was even worse than you said. I feel pretty guilty for not taking you at your word. Maybe it's one of those 'male' things I'm going to have to get over. You know? I just couldn't believe it."
"I told you one time you had to meet him to believe it," she said quietly.
"And you were right. I'm sorry. I'll never again doubt anything you tell me. Scout's honor. So, listen," he said.
"What?"
"My folks have a big bash every New Year's Eve, and I was wondering if you and Pen would like to come."
"I don't think I could," she said. "Eva's going to be out with Charlie, Melissa's meeting up with some of her friends, and somebody has to stay with Alma. Otherwise, I'd like to. A lot. I've been missing you the last little while."
"Well, that's all set then," he said happily. "Because I already talked Alma into coming with us. My folks said the more the merrier, so I'm bringing all three of you."
"Alma said she'd go?" Bobby was amazed.
"Yup. She said she and Pen could go off somewhere and have a nap if it got to be too late. Eva said we could use the van for the evening."
"I guess it's okay, then," she said, wondering how he'd managed to convince Alma to go. But maybe she hadn't needed much convincing. She'd been different since that night Joe came to the house. She'd started getting in touch with some of her friends, and the other night a couple of them had come to visit. She'd stayed up way past her usual bedtime, talking and laughing. And almost the minute Bobby arrived back from Jamestown, she'd started in, insisting Bobby sign up for some night courses. Bobby had said she would. Now she was pretty excited about it, looking forward to learning new things. "That's okay," she repeated, and gave Dennis's hand a squeeze. "I'm so glad to see you." He'd called just when she was thinking she'd probably never see him again.
"You've got to learn to have a little more faith in people, Bobby."
She'd have to do that, she thought. It was one of the things she'd talk about with that doctor friend of Charlie's when she went to see him. She had quite a list of things she wanted to talk about. But she was already beginning to feel a whole lot better. Alma had said flat-out that she was staying, that she and Pen could stay forever if they wanted to. And Eva, when she wasn't walking around with what Alma called her "zombie stare"—that blanked-out look she got because her mind was on the book she was writing in her head—was nice as she could be. And what was really amazing was that even though she'd expected to, she hadn't had one bad dream since Joe died. Not a single one.
State Domestic Violence Coalitions
Alabama
P.O. Box 4762 Montgomery, AL 36101
(334) 832-4842 Fax: (334) 832-4803
(800) 650-6522 Hotline Website: www.acadv.org Email: [email protected]
Alaska
130 Seward Street, Room 209 Juneau, AK 99801
(907) 586-3650 Fax: (907) 463-4493 Website: www.andvsa.org
Arizona
301 East Bethany Home Road, Suite C194 Phoenix, AZ 85012
(602) 279-2900 Fax: (602) 279-2980
(800) 782-6400 Nationwide Website: www.azadv.org Email: [email protected]
Arkansas
1401 West Capitol Avenue, Suite 170 Little Rock, AR 72201
(501) 907-5612 Fax: (501) 907-5618
(800) 269-4668 Nationwide Website: www.domesticpeace.com Email: [email protected]
California
California Partnership to End Domestic Violence
P.O. Box 1798 Sacramento, CA 95812
(916) 444-7163 Fax: (916) 444-7165
(800) 524-4765 Nationwide Website: www.cpedv.org Email: [email protected]
State Domestic Violence Coalitions
Colorado
1120 Lincoln Street, Suite 900 Denver, CO 80203
(303) 831-9632 Fax: (303) 832-7067
(888) 778-7091 Website: www.ccadv.org
Connecticut
90 Pitkin Street East Hartford, CT 06108
(860) 282-7899 Fax: (860) 282-7892
(888) 774-2900 In State DV Hotline Website: www.ctcadv.org Email: in
[email protected]
Delaware
100 West 10th Street, #703 Wilmington, DE 19801
(302) 658-2958 Fax: (302) 658-5049
(800) 701-0456 Statewide Website: www.dcadv.org Email: [email protected]
DC
5 Thomas Circle Northwest Washington, DC 20005
(202) 299-1181 Fax: (202) 299-1193 Website: www.dccadv.org Email: [email protected]
Florida
425 Office Plaza Tallahassee, FL 32301
(850)
425-2749 Fax: (850) 425-3091
(850)
621-4202 TDD
(800) 500-1119 In State Website: www.fcadv.org
Georgia
114 New Street, Suite B Decatur, GA 30030
(404) 209-0280 Fax: (404) 766-3800
(800) 334-2836 Crisis Line Website: www.gcadv.org Email: [email protected]
Hawaii State
716 Umi Street, Suite 210 Honolulu, HI 96819-2337
(808) 832-9316 Fax: (808) 841-6028 Website: www.hscadv.org
Idaho Coalition Against Sexual and Domestic Violence 300 Mallard Drive, Suite 130 Boise, ID 83706
(208) 384-0419 Fax: (208) 331-0687
(888) 293-6118 Nationwide Website: www.idvsa.org Email: [email protected]
Illinois
801 South 11th Street Springfield, IL 62703
(217)
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