by Amy Cross
“Pa says I was scared when I first came,” I tell her. “I don't remember, because I was much younger than you are, but he says I cried a lot, even after he'd finished fixing my face. I cried, but now I'm okay. Pa's really good at fixing people, even though his hands shake sometimes. He's already made your foot better, and he's -”
“My foot?” she sneers. “You mean the one that's not there anymore?”
“It was hanging off after the accident.”
“Did he do that to you?” she asks. “That... mess on your face, was that him? The guy you call Pa?”
“He said I was really badly hurt when he found me,” I continue. “He said he didn't even know if he could save me, but he did save me.” I pause, before reaching out and putting my hand on hers. “And he's going to save you too, you just-”
“Don't touch me!” she hisses.
“Please -”
“Don't touch me!” she shouts, and I immediately step back.
Glancing over toward the door, I wait to see if Pa's coming, but so far he doesn't seem to have heard.
“You're going to like it here,” I tell the girl, turning back to her. “Once you get used to -”
“Help!” she screams, pulling against the rope that's holding her on the table. “Somebody help me!”
I try again and again to get through to her, but she just won't stop shouting for help. Finally, scared that Pa will come down and find me here, I hurry out of the room and shut the door, locking it carefully before scurrying back up to my room. Sure enough, a few minutes later once I'm safely under my bed again, the girl is still screaming and I hear the door to Pa's room opening. He heads downstairs, and the screams suddenly stops. The house falls silent, and then I hear Pa coming back up. He probably injected the girl with something to make her go back to sleep.
I still have the necklace in my hand. I forgot to leave it with the girl, but I figure I'll wait now until she's calmer. Soon she'll understand that Pa's only trying to help, and then she'll get used to life around here. Like I did.
Seven
“I need you to pick the gooseberries while I'm fixing the fence,” Pa mutters, leading me across the muddy yard. “Won't take long. Couple of hours at most.”
The cold morning sun is making me shiver a little, and the sky is gray. Spots of rain are falling, but I don't mind, because I love going to pick gooseberries with Pa. I've already gathered my gooseberry pots, and I eagerly sling them onto the truck's backseat.
“Is the girl sleeping?” I ask as I climb into the passenger seat.
“You mean Lindsay?”
I pause for a moment. “Is that her name? Lindsay?”
He nods. “She's coming around now, she should be fully awake by the time we get back.”
“Are you sure it's okay to leave her alone?”
“She won't be alone,” he replies as he starts the engine. “Brother'll be here.”
“Brother?” Looking out through the rain-spattered windshield, I watch the house for a moment as a sense of panic threads its way through my chest. “Are you sure it's okay to leave the girl with -”
“He'll behave,” Pa says, glancing over his shoulder as he reverses the truck across the yard. “I put the fear of God into him before breakfast. He knows not to touch her again.”
I want to ask if I can stay behind, to make sure the girl's safe, but I know better than to argue with Pa. He's always right. Still, as he puts the truck into first gear and we start bumping forward toward the road, I can't help looking back at the house. I hope the elemental forces of the universe keep the girl safe while we're gone, and I hope Brother doesn't start poking his filthy fingers under her clothes.
“Stop worrying,” Pa says firmly, sounding a little irritated. “I told you. Brother'll behave now.”
***
As Pa drives us along the road, I see that one of the large old oak trees is suddenly all twisted and dented, like it's almost falling over.
“That's where their car hit,” Pa mutters, as if he read my mind. “Might have to take the whole thing down in the summer.”
I look back once we've driven past. There are tire marks on the road, and it's hard to imagine how violent the crash must have been. That tree was so big and so strong, I thought it'd never get hurt by anything. Now it looks like it's dying. The car must have hit it so hard.
***
“The gooseberries are really big this year!” I shout as I drop more into my pot. I can't help smiling as I pop one of the juicy berries into my mouth and turn to look over at Pa. “I can make a really nice -”
Stopping suddenly, I see that Pa is over by the fence, silhouetted against the gray, rainy sky. He's been hammering new posts into the ground for the past hour or so, but now he's leaning against one of the posts and he has a hand on his chest, as if he's feeling for something. I've never seen Pa look old and weak or tired before, and he's not old or weak and tired now, not really, I swear, but he looks as if the work has caught him out. I don't know how old Pa is exactly, but I know he's old.
After a moment, he grabs his hammer and takes a step back, steadying himself before he starts hitting the post again. I feel a rush of relief now that everything's back to normal, and finally I bite down into the gooseberry that's been in my mouth for a few minutes. The taste is so good, I start grinning as I turn to pick more. I'm going to make the most amazing gooseberry jam with this crop, and in the back of my mind I'm hoping that maybe the girl, Lindsay, will help. Maybe if she makes jam with me for a while, she'll start to realize that life at the farm isn't so bad.
Over the next few minutes, I make my way slowly along the row of bushes, picking more and more gooseberries. So many, in fact, that I have to set the first pot down and start on the second. I swear, it's like each new gooseberry makes me a little happier, and I'm starting to think that I can't use them all for jam. Maybe I'll pickle some of them, and I might even have enough to experiment with pies and crumbles. Pa says I'm good in the kitchen, and it's true, although sometimes Brother bugs me and I get confused. I think I'd happily spend the rest of my life just cooking for the family.
Glancing over my shoulder, I look for Pa. At first I don't see him, but then I realize he's sitting on the ground with his back resting against one of the posts.
“Pa?” I whisper, waiting for him to move.
The sky is getting a darker shade of gray now, and thick clouds are being blown past. Squinting, I see Pa's still face silhouetted against those moving clouds, and I realize that his mouth is hanging open.
“Pa?” I shout, dropping my pot of gooseberries and running across the uneven ground. I almost trip and fall a couple of times, but finally I reach him and drop down just as he finally stirs and turns to look at me. For a few seconds, his eyes seem a little vacant and empty, almost like he doesn't recognize me. “Are you alright, Pa?” I ask, trying not to panic. “You're just resting, aren't you?”
He hesitates, before nodding. “Sure I am, Enda,” he says, forcing a smile but sounding a little frail. “I just...” His voice trails off for a moment. “I just took a sit-down, that's all.”
“I figured it was something like that,” I tell him, wiping rain from my face.
“You got some good gooseberries?” he asks.
“Wait 'til you see them!” I reply, getting to my feet and running back to get the first pot. Once I've carried it back to him, I find the biggest, juiciest berry of all and hold it out to him. “For you!”
“Save it for a pie,” he replies weakly.
“Don't you want it?”
He pauses, before taking it in his dirty, scarred hand and then popping it in his mouth. After chewing for a moment, he starts nodding.
“That's a good gooseberry, Enda,” he tells me approvingly. “They must've grown extra big this year 'cause they knew you were coming for them.”
“That's silly,” I reply, although I really like the idea that the gooseberries grew because of me. After all, I'm only trying to help them become the t
astiest jam they possibly can be. Maybe they like me.
I wait, but Pa seems lost in thought, and he doesn't look ready to get up any time soon.
“Do you think Lindsay and I will be friends?” I ask finally.
He frowns. “Why wouldn't you?”
“I don't know... Maybe she's scared of me.” I pause, not really wanting to say more. “My face...”
“You're a good girl,” he replies. “Don't ever forget that, Enda. If she's got any sense at all, Lindsay will come around soon enough and then the two of you will be inseparable.”
I can't help smiling. “Like sisters?” I ask.
He nods. “Like sisters.”
“But... When I first came,” I continue, “did I shout as much as her? I don't remember what I was like.”
“You were just a...” He stares at me for a moment, as if he's remembering. “You were just a baby, Enda.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I used to carry you, like this. You cried, but babies always cry, especially if they've been hurt.”
“And that's why my face is bad?” I ask. “Because I'd been hurt?”
“Your face isn't bad, Enda. It's just different.”
I nod. I know Pa's right, but sometimes it's hard to remember that I shouldn't be ashamed of my face. I just hope Lindsay starts liking me soon.
“Go finish picking gooseberries,” Pa says after a moment. “This rain's only going to get worse, so we want to be heading back soon.”
“But my other sisters -”
“Go,” he says again. “Finish your work.”
“Are you going to finish the posts?” I ask.
He pauses. “Not today, kid. I'll come back out some other time and do the rest.” He takes a deep breath, and it's clear that he's not feeling too well. “Just gather your berries and then we'll go home.”
***
As the truck bumps across the yard and comes to a stop near the house, I suddenly realize I can hear someone screaming. I freeze for a moment, before turning to Pa just as he mutters something under his breath and starts scrambling out into the mud.
A moment later I spot Brother coming out the front door, with his pants around his ankles and a big grin on his face. The grin vanishes as soon as he spots Pa, and he takes off, scrambling around the side of the house as Pa runs after him, shouting for him to stop.
I'm too scared to get out of the truck. I just sit here, with the berry pots on my lap, listening to the sound of Lindsay's anguished scream. After a few seconds, I start to hear Pa beating Brother too. Beating him harder than ever, and really shouting.
Eight
My hands are still trembling as I tip another bowl of gooseberries into the cooking pot. It's dark outside now, but Pa's still out there punishing Brother. It's been hours now and he's still wailing and moaning. I don't know what Pa's doing to him, but it sounds like the worst punishment ever.
And I don't feel sorry for him at all.
I hate him.
If he's ruined another sister for me...
At least Lindsay has stopped screaming. I tried going in to check on her, but she yelled at me as soon as I opened the door, and she said she'd kill me if I touched her. So I came through to the kitchen and I've been trying to take my mind off things by making jam ever since, although I know Lindsay's sobbing in the garage, and her sobs aren't like anything I've ever heard before. Even my other sisters didn't make quite such horrible sounds.
When she calms down, I'll take her some jam and I'll finally give her the necklace. I'm sure she'll feel better then, and she'll realize that I'm not like Brother.
Hearing the back door suddenly slamming open, I turn and see Pa storming into the house. There's anger in his every footstep, and he comes straight through to find me.
“He doesn't get to come inside the house tonight,” he says breathlessly, pointing toward the window as I hear Brother's pitiful howls from outside. “Don't feel sorry for him, Enda. Just pretend he isn't even there, okay?”
“What about dinner?” I ask. “Should I -”
“He gets nothing!” he shouts, slamming his fist against the table. “He can eat what the pigs eat!”
I flinch and take a step back.
“What's wrong with that boy?” he continues, but after a moment I realize he's talking to himself now. Heading to the sink, he stops for a few seconds, looking out at the dark yard. For the second time today, he looks older than usual.
“I'm making jam,” I say finally, hoping to cheer him up, but he doesn't even seem to have heard me.
Lindsay's still sobbing in the garage. I think maybe I'll wait 'til tomorrow to ask if she wants to make jam.
***
Sitting under my bed, I continue to fiddle with the locket. I still haven't worked out how to get it open, and I'm starting to think that maybe it's not really a locket at all, that it can't open. Fiddling with it gives me something to do, though, and helps me take my mind off Brother's cries from outside, and off Lindsay's sobbing from downstairs. Still, there's one thought that won't leave my mind, no matter how hard I try.
Pa was wrong today.
I know it's bad of me to think that, but it's true. Pa's never been wrong about anything, but he said it was okay to leave Brother alone with Lindsay and it wasn't. I've tried thinking about it some more and trying to work out why Pa was wrong, but I've just come to the conclusion that he made a mistake. That isn't a nice thing to think, because Pa has always been right about everything in the past, and I think he's just as shocked as I am. The problem is, now I'm starting to think about all the other things Pa might be wrong about, and even times in the past when I thought he was right but...
I flinch as Lindsay lets out a particularly loud cry. Pa says she'll be okay, that when she stops crying we can start showing her how things work at the farm, but now I'm not so sure that he's right. He went in to examine her after he'd finished beating Brother, he said he needed to check whether she'd been hurt. When he came out, he didn't tell me much, but his face was white and he looked upset, and then he went and sat alone by the fire in the front room. I know better than to ask him what he saw, but there was one thing he said that really worried me.
“Maybe you'll have to wait a while longer to get a sister.”
Those were the exact words he used.
“Maybe you'll have to wait a while longer to get a sister.”
Why would he say that? Lindsay's right there, she's downstairs waiting for Pa to make her appreciate the farm, the way he made me appreciate the farm. Well, not the exact same way, because Lindsay's probably at least fifteen or sixteen years old than I was when I arrived, so it was probably easier with me, but before today he seemed so sure he could do it. Tonight, though, there was doubt in his voice.
“Maybe you'll have to wait a while longer to get a sister.”
I sure wish Pa hadn't said those words. He's put all sorts of worries in my head now. I've waited so long for a new sister, and he always promised that one would come along eventually, and I don't think I could bear for her to arrive and then get taken away like this and added to the line of wooden crosses. I hate the idea of her ending up like the others. Still fiddling with the locket, I feel a tear running down my face, and it tickles as it dribbles into one of my scars. I expect Pa will decide what to do with Lindsay during the night, and his decision will be final. I'll go back to waiting, except this time -
Suddenly the locket clicks and comes open at the hinge.
Startled, I look down and see that there's some kind of picture inside, but the space under my bed is too dark for me to see it properly. I wriggle out and then I head over to the window, where I tilt the locket so I can see it better in the moonlight. Sure enough, there's a little photo of two people, a man and a woman, smiling as the woman sits holding a baby. They look so happy, and their smiles make me smile. I run a finger against the photo, feeling its smooth surface, before my eyes are drawn to look more closely at the woman. Squinting, I realize that her eyes look familiar, but it t
akes a moment longer before I understand where I've seen them before.
The butter knife.
Her eyes look like my eyes, but she can't be me because she's older, she's a full-grown woman.
I stare at the photo for a while longer, trying to work out what I'm seeing, before suddenly an idea comes into my head, as if from nowhere. What if the woman isn't me at all, what if she's my mother? And that would mean the man is probably my first Pa, and the baby is me. A shiver passes through my chest as I look at the happy little family, and slowly I realize that I'm probably right. Pa has never hidden the fact that I had a family before he found me, and that they died when I was a baby. I know he sometimes keeps little trinkets he finds at the scenes of crashes near the farm, so maybe this is the trinket he took on the night when he found me. Looking at the woman's eyes, I start to wonder if the rest of my face would have looked like her too. Without even realizing it, I reach up and touch the scarred ridge that runs down from my forehead to my mouth.
The pigs.
What if Pa fed my parents to the pigs?
No, he promised he didn't do that, but...
For a moment, I think back to the sight of Lindsay's parents getting torn apart. There were still a few flecks of bone in the pig-pen this morning.
What if, all those years ago, my parents...
I can still hear Brother shouting outside. He sounds angry. But I can hear Lindsay sobbing too, and I don't think she's going to stop all night. Pa said something about making sure she's okay, and that he'll take care of things, but it was his mistake that left her alone with Brother in the first place, and for the first time I'm staring to think that maybe I shouldn't just let Pa decide. After all, Pa decided with my other sisters, and none of them ended up lasting long. He swore it'd be different this time, but I reckon Lindsay's going the same way.
Looking back down at the photo in the locket, I can't shake the feeling that Pa is wrong about Lindsay, that she should never have been brought here. And if Pa was wrong about that, then maybe he's wrong about what to do with her next.