by Carrie Mac
“Cromwell sent me home.”
“Oh. Same with us.”
April sat down again. “You’re still mad at me?”
“Of course I am.”
“Are you going to stay mad?”
“That’s my plan.” Zoe wanted to leave, but she found herself sitting beside April instead and saying, “You should never have read my diary. That wasn’t right.”
April sighed. “We could go in circles with this. What you did wasn’t right either.” She tightened her grip on her bags and stood up again.
“Wait,” Zoe said. “Maybe I didn’t do the right thing, but a lot of people would’ve done the same thing in my place.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“It might not, but still, what happened at Beck’s birthday has nothing to do with what happened in the cafeteria. What I did or didn’t do did not cause that.”
“No, it didn’t.” April stared at her feet. “I’m sorry about the scenario. It was a stupid idea. I wasn’t thinking about you at all. I just wanted to get back at the Beckoners. I screwed up.”
“You sure did.”
“How’s Leaf? He looked terrible.”
“He’s okay. There’s hardly a bruise anymore. It’ll make a good story some day.”
“What we go through for a story, huh?”
“You’re telling me.” Zoe rehearsed the next words in her head several times before saying them out loud. “I owe you an apology.”
“What for?” April looked surprised.
“For the Beckoners. For everything. For treating you so bad.”
“You’re not that bad.”
“But I have been.”
“Yeah. You have.”
“You know what’s strange?” Zoe looked at April. “If I hadn’t met Beck first...if things had happened in a different order...we might’ve been friends right from the beginning.”
“I don’t know about that,” April said.
“I think it’s true.” Zoe stood up. “You on your way home?”
April nodded.
“I’ve still got to find something for Harris.”
“He’s here?”
“Yeah,” Zoe said. She began telling April all about the lovebirds as they left together out the rear doors, where Shadow was waiting for April.
The night was cold and dry for the first time in ages. It even smelled like it might snow. Christmas carols whined out from speakers in the parking lot. The girls crossed to the back corner, which had been sectioned off to sell Christmas trees. The trail through Mill Lake, the short cut home, branched off from there. There weren’t many Christmas trees left, just a few scraggly ones, and a couple too big for even Heather’s cathedral living room. An old man in an orange parka was rolling up the plastic fencing. He waved and wished them Merry Christmas as they passed.
They walked in silence through the dark stand of pines to the clearing at the top of the park. A Muzak version of “What Child is This?” carried on the wind from the parking lot. April hummed along, out of tune. The deserted park spread out below them, the lake at the center, a halo of ice around the edge reflecting the moonlight. Their breath puffed out like smoke as they headed down the knoll, stepping sideways so they wouldn’t lose their footing on the icy grass.
Halfway across the park April stopped.
“Oh, no. Look.”
Zoe strained to see what April was looking at in the misty dark. The Beckoners filed silently out from the bandstand, where they’d been waiting in the shadows. They formed a line across the path, blocking the way, except for Jazz, who lingered off to the side.
“What do we do, Zoe?”
“Go back to the Christmas tree guy,” Zoe whispered.
“We weren’t expecting to see you, Zoe.” Beck took a drag off her cigarette and then chucked the butt at Zoe.
“Let us go, Beck.”
“Can’t do that.” She shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Then let April go.”
“Ah, but Dog is the one we have the problem with. Several problems,” Beck said. “You can go. We’re done with you. You’ve got the scars to know better than to piss us off again. Apparently, after all this time, Dog hasn’t learned her lesson yet.”
Tears streamed down April’s face. “Go,” she whispered to Zoe.
“I’ll get help,” Zoe whispered.
“That would just make it worse,” April whispered back.
“What have we got here?” Lindsay grabbed April’s shopping bags. She pulled out a toy car racetrack and handed it to Heather. “Merry Christmas, Malcolm.” One by one she pulled out April’s presents and re-distributed them. When she was done, she balled up the empty shopping bags and chucked them at April.
“You can’t do this,” Zoe said. “This isn’t fair. Give the presents back.”
“Or what?” Lindsay said. “You’ll take them back?”
“Give them back. This isn’t funny.”
“Whoever said any of this was funny?” Heather said. “Do you think it’s funny to call my boyfriend a rapist? Do you think that’s funny?”
“If the name fits,” Zoe muttered, unable to stop herself.
“Now, see? There you go.” Beck clucked her tongue. “It’s shit like that that gets you into trouble in the first place. Isn’t that right, Brady?”
“Uh-huh,” he growled. “You have no idea how much trouble.” A vein in his neck throbbed visibly. “You have no idea what I could do to you.”
“Oh, but I do,” Zoe said. “That’s just it, Brady. I know exactly what you can do. It’s no lie. It’s not some made-up story. I was there. I saw what you did to Jazz.”
“You’re lying!” Brady came at her with his fists up. Shadow’s hackles rose. He lowered his head and growled.
“Go ahead! Hit me!” Zoe dropped to her knees and covered her face, waiting for the first blow. “Beat the shit out of me so I’ll have bruises for proof! I’ll go straight to the cops!”
“Wait!” Janika pushed Brady back. “Just hold on. Beck said you could go, Zoe. Why are you making it worse? Why don’t you go? Just leave.”
“I’m not leaving without April.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Beck said. “Dog is ours.”
“This is about getting even.” Heather threw her shoulders back. “Dog isn’t going anywhere until we’re finished with her.”
“Go, Zoe,” April begged. “Please, take Shadow and just go.”
“See?” Janika helped Zoe up. “Even she wants you to go. Just get out of here before it’s too late.”
Beck pulled out another cigarette. She lit it with her eight ball matches, casually, as though they were all just waiting in line to get into the movies. The Beckoners all glared at Zoe, a silent order for her to leave. She stood her ground. She was not going to leave without April.
All of a sudden, April spun around. She grabbed Zoe’s hand, pulling her back. “Run!”
Zoe dropped her bags and stumbled after her. The two of them raced across the icy grass, Shadow straining to keep up with them. Lindsay, Beck, Heather, Brady and Trevor chased after them. Zoe looked back at one point; Beck and Brady were closing in.
“Faster!” she yelled.
April was almost at the top of the knoll. They were so close, Zoe could hear the Christmas carols again.
Then April slipped. Shadow caught up to her. Zoe flung herself between April and the others, but as April tried to get up, Beck and Brady shoved Zoe aside and grabbed onto April’s legs.
“Let go of her!”
Shadow clamped down on Beck’s leg. Brady kicked him so hard the dog landed three feet away.
“Don’t hurt him!” April screamed. “Shadow, go home!”
He crept towards her, tail between his legs.
“Go HOME!” He kept coming. “GO HOME NOW!” He stopped, and then reluctantly turned and slunk off through the trees, looking back several times as Lindsay and Trevor caught up and held Zoe back.
When Shadow had d
isappeared, Beck and Brady dragged April down the slope by her feet. Heather led the way, head high, shoulders back like she was leading a royal procession. April folded her arms over her face and was still, like she’d given up.
“Help!” Zoe screamed, hoping the Christmas tree man would hear. “Help!” She tried to scramble up the hill, but Trevor and Lindsay’s grip was solid.
Lindsay clamped her hand over Zoe’s mouth and snarled in her ear, “You make one more sound and I will break your fingers, one by one.”
She and Trevor forced Zoe down the hill, grasping her arms so tight she could feel their fingertips bruising her. Ahead of them, Beck and Brady dragged April on her back along the gravel path and up the steps of the bandstand, her head bumping against the wood. They dumped her in the middle of the wooden floor and stood back. April lifted herself onto her hands and knees.
“Don’t bother.” Beck kicked her back down.
Lindsay and Trevor pushed Zoe into a corner and stood on either side.
“Beck, let Zoe go.” Janika put a shaky hand on Beck’s shoulder. “You said she could go.”
Beck slapped her hand away. “Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Come on, Beck, she’s just some small town hick who doesn’t know what she’s got herself into here. You wanted Dog; you’ve got her. Zoe just messes things.”
“Let her go, Beck.” Jazz spoke, for the first time since they’d met them on the path. “It’s not her fault.”
Beck glanced from Zoe to April to Heather to Jazz. She took one more pull on her cigarette, inhaled deeply and let her breath out slow. She grasped April’s hair and yanked her head up with a snap.
“Hold her arms back, Lindsay.”
April mewled as Lindsay pulled her arms away from her face.
“If I let you go, Zoe, you have to promise me one thing.” Beck held the smoldering cigarette above April’s face. “Promise me you’ll shut up about this. We already know you have trouble keeping secrets. Maybe a warning will help you keep your mouth shut this time.”
“Please, Beck.” Zoe tried to step forward but the second she moved Trevor tightened his grip even more. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her.”
“I want you to forget about tonight. I want you to forget about everything.” She lowered the cigarette to barely an inch above April’s forehead. “Because, believe me, I can make life difficult for you. And for Cassy too, if it comes to that.”
Zoe wanted to tear her throat out then. Cassy’s name should not be able to come out of Beck’s mouth like that, so easily, so smooth, like she had as much right to say her name as Zoe did. Zoe wanted to rip out Beck’s vocal cords and tie them in a knot so she’d never be able to say Cassy’s name again. Before Zoe could take another breath, Beck lowered the cigarette again. Zoe couldn’t take her eyes off it, though she desperately wanted to.
April kept her eyes open, until Beck finally touched the burning cigarette to her forehead. Then she gasped, screwing her eyes into tiny pinches, tears streaming down her cheeks.
There was no smell. Maybe the soft, icy wind carried it away. Maybe it was the wind that took away April’s voice too, because through it all she was silent. Beck ground the cigarette into the burn and then pulled it away. The burn smoked like a gunshot wound.
“Open your eyes, bitch.”
April didn’t respond. Beck kicked her in the side. “Open your eyes and look at me or I’ll do it again. I have a whole pack of these.”
April opened her eyes halfway.
“I’m going to keep this little souvenir,” Beck said. April shut her eyes again. Beck let go of her hair with a shove. Then she walked over to Zoe, holding the butt between her thumb and forefinger.
“Cassy...that magic word will keep you quiet, right?” She waved the butt in Zoe’s face. “You tell anyone about tonight and I will come for her.” She put the cigarette butt in her stash tin. “Keep that in mind. Keep Cassy in mind.”
“Are you finished?” Janika said, barely keeping the edge out of her voice.
“With Zoe?” Beck looked Zoe up and down. “I’m finished with her. She can go.”
Zoe tried to pull away from Trevor, but he tightened his grip. “She’ll tell, Beck.”
“She wouldn’t dare, not now.” Beck came up to her, face to face. “Would you?” She shoved Zoe hard in the chest. “You know enough not to tell, don’t you, Zoe? Tell me you know that much.”
Zoe nodded.
“Say it. Say, ‘I promise not to tell.’”
“I promise not to tell,” Zoe whispered.
“There’s my girl.” Beck patted her shoulder. “Trevor and Janika are going to go with you, to make sure you go straight home and keep your mouth shut.” Beck reached out and tapped Zoe’s lips with the same finger that had held the cigarette butt. She smelled of smoke, but a weird smoke that Zoe assumed was the smell of burning flesh. Her stomach flipped. Beck tapped Zoe’s lips once for each word. “You won’t say a word to anyone, will you?”
Zoe shook her head.
Two more taps. “Good girl.”
Then Janika was on the other side of her, pulling her across the bandstand and down the stairs. Zoe looked back from the bottom step. From there she was eye-to-eye with April, still curled on the floor in the middle of the bandstand. She looked up, the burn in the middle of her forehead staring out like a third eye. She looked at Zoe for a second. Then she closed her eyes and laid her head down gently, like she was going to sleep.
Janika collected Zoe’s shopping bags and pulled her along for a while. She was gentle. Trevor was not. He pushed Janika aside and shoved Zoe ahead of them like she was a prisoner of war, only she was getting away. She was free, and it felt awful. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay.
The three of them stopped at the edge of the park, as though once they stepped onto the sidewalk, they would cement something awful. Cars passed, full of families heading to Christmas all over town. A station wagon of Santas slowed to a stop at the curb. The Santa in the passenger seat rolled down his window and held out a fistful of little candy canes.
“Don’t look so glum. It can’t be that bad.” His breath was rum and eggnog. “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas, yadda, yadda, yadda.”
Janika took the candy canes and the Santas drove off, honking their horn, the car hugging a little too close to the centerline. Zoe and Trevor and Janika stood there a moment longer, until from behind them in the park came one long scream that cut the night like a knife slicing silk. Then, they ran without stopping until they’d reached the empty lot behind Paradise Heights, the three of them gasping for breath.
“I’m going back,” Trevor said. “You can babysit her.” He started jogging back towards the lake.
Janika escorted Zoe to her door and handed her the shopping bags.
“Don’t take this personally. It’s just business.”
All Zoe could do was shake her head.
“This goes on all the time, Zoe. It’s just settling scores, you know?”
Zoe shook her head again.
“It’s obvious you were never one of us.” Janika sighed. “But you figured that out pretty quick, didn’t you?”
Zoe nodded.
“You won’t say anything, right?”
“What are you going to do to her?”
“We’re just going to scare her, teach her a lesson.” Janika backed down the driveway. “You won’t say anything, right? I mean, I don’t really have to stay here and babysit you, do I?”
Zoe shook her head again.
“I’m going to head back.” Janika gestured back to the park. “Merry Christmas?”
Zoe shook her head once more.
shadow
Alice ripped into her for being late the minute that Zoe walked in the door.
“I told you to be back here by six and now it’s six thirty and you—”
“Mom, listen to me—”
“I don’t think so, missy.” Alice handed her a mincemeat pie. “You bet
ter—”
“Mom!” Zoe shouted. “Listen to me!”
“No, you listen to me!”
Zoe hurled the pie against the wall.
“Okay.” Alice stared at the mess oozing down the wall. “I’m listening.”
Zoe told her what had just happened at Mill Lake Park.
“Start the car,” Alice said to Harris when Zoe got to the part about leaving April behind. “But I’ll drive. I know the way.”
Alice pulled on her coat and stuffed Cassy into her snowsuit and herded the girls into the car.
“How the hell long has all this been going on?” Alice was driving too fast. Zoe gripped the door handle and didn’t answer. “Tell me, damn it!”
“Since forever.”
“Jesus, don’t you be flippant with me. Not now.” Alice screeched into the parking lot at Mill Lake. She yanked Cassy out of her carseat, parked her on her hip and waited for Zoe to lead the way. “Hurry up!”
“They might still be there.”
“Yeah, so hurry up. If they’re still there I’ll kick the shit out of them myself.”
The Beckoners had gone, but April was still there. She was so badly beaten that Zoe would’ve sworn it wasn’t April huddled on the wet ground behind the bandstand. April’s eyes were both swollen shut, there were several more burn marks on her face which was purple all over. April tried to speak through her split lips.
“They gone?”
“Don’t move, hon.” Alice knelt beside April. “Keep your head still. Where does it hurt, baby?”
“All ober.”
“Harris...” Alice handed Cassy to Zoe. “You stay put and keep an eye out for those monsters.”
Zoe watched her mother sprint across the park to phone an ambulance. Zoe hoped April’s father wasn’t working that night. Zoe squatted beside April, afraid to touch her anywhere. She looked all wrong, twisted and puffy and bloody. Cassy stretched towards her, murmuring, “owie” with the solemnity only a baby can get away with.
It wasn’t April’s father who came with the ambulance. It was two women, who worked silently and efficiently, loading April onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Alice demanded to ride with her to the hospital.