Ash Eater

by Emerson, Joanna

  I storm past Ryan to the small space between Daryl and Blonde Groupie. “You know, it’s common courtesy to break up with one girl before starting to date another.”

  “I did break up with you, Miya.” Daryl smiles nervously as he glances at Blonde Groupie.

  “But you came back to me afterwards…”

  “A mistake I won’t make again.”

  I shove him away. “Why don’t you just go?”

  “Why don’t you stop shoving me?” He slams his palms into me.

  I catch the edge of Mom’s picket fence with my arm on my way to the cement. My head hits the bottom edge of the fence.

  Daryl backs away.

  “Go!” I scream up at him from where I’m sprawled on the ground. “Someone get him out of here!”

  My brothers stop talking to their friends and stare at me. Then at Daryl. But neither one moves.

  “Get him out of here!”

  Robby tugs at Daryl’s arm. I can’t hear his words, but his expression is fierce.

  Jenny helps me to my feet. “You’ll need a bandage on that wrist.”

  Half my forearm is scraped and bleeding.

  “How’s your head?” she asks.

  I shake my head, too ashamed to cry out here in front of fifty of my brothers’ friends.

  *

  It’s too early in the morning for the phone to ring. Why won’t anyone else answer it? I stumble downstairs. Mom and Abbie have already left for the day. I rush to pick up the phone before the sixth ring. My head is still spinning from last night’s cheap wine.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this Miya?” I recognize Daryl’s mom’s voice.

  “Yeah—yes it is.”

  “Why did you do that to him?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “You took away everything precious to him. You took away the band, his friends—”

  “I what?” Oh God, help me. I want to throw up. I slide against the wall to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, shaking.

  “Not to mention that you forced him to have sex with you. How dare you?”

  “What?” He’s eighteen, male, a black belt in karate, and I forced him? “This is crazy…”

  “You know what? You’re crazy! The way you always yelled at him, always punching and shoving him.”

  I stare at my scraped up wrist. “I can’t do this…I can’t talk to you anymore…” I stand, blood draining from my limbs, and hang up the phone. Clinging to the walls, I make it to the basement bathroom just before I throw up. I heave again. It’s all blood and bile.

  The phone rings.

  My body trembles violently, banging against the shower stall. I grip the toilet, trying to steady myself, and throw up again. More blood.

  The phone’s still ringing.

  Nate answers. “Miya! It’s for you!”

  I stagger halfway up the stairs, the shaking threatening to throw off my balance. “Down here!” Maybe it’s Daryl calling to apologize for his mom.

  Nate hands me the phone. “It’s Daryl’s mom.”

  I put the phone to my ear and sit on the stair. “Yeah.” It hurts so much to talk.

  “Don’t you ever hang up on me! No wonder Daryl couldn’t stand being with you. How dare you treat people like that!”

  “I had to throw up. I can’t do this…I’m going to be sick again.” I hand the cordless phone to Nate without even hanging up, and I do get sick again. All over the stairs.

  “Look,” Nate says into the phone, “my sister’s throwing up. Now’s not a good time.”

  My weeping drowns out the rest of his words.

  By the time he returns, I’m lying on the ground, my cheek pressed against the cold concrete floor. I push a towel around, trying to clean up my vomit.

  “Don’t tell mom,” I beg him. “I don’t want her to send me to the doctors.”

  “I think you might need to go to the doctor, Miya. You threw up blood.”

  “I know. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “How long have you been doing that?”

  “About three weeks. Never this bad. You gotta help me.”

  He stares at the mess with a grimace. “You want me to help you clean it?”

  “I’ll clean it. Would you get paper towels and make sure no one comes down here?”

  He rushes back with the paper towels. “I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t realize things were this bad for you.”

  “It’s okay. I just can’t handle talking to Daryl’s mom anymore today.”

  “No problem. I’ll answer the phone for you.”

  “Thank you.” I push myself to my knees and clean.

  “She’s crazy. I’m sorry you had to face the brunt of that.”

  “She said I was crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy, sis. You’re a kid, and you’re hurting. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize that so well.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “One day you’re going to meet someone who will see you as the most beautiful girl in the world.”

  I don’t understand how Nate can say this when I’m kneeling on the floor cleaning my own vomit.

  “He’ll be one of the good guys and will give up everything for you, even when it means he’ll get hurt.”

  I want to shoot this statement down, deny its possibility, but Nate means well, and it’s one of the kindest things I have heard in a long time. “Thank you for hoping for this.”

  “I hope you recognize it when it comes your way, sis. You deserve good things to come your way.”

  With the basement stairs and floor clean, I stagger up to my room. I rummage through the mess for some earphones and U2’s War. I need to hear Like a Song. Drowning Man comes through the speakers. It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s Bono’s voice.

  I kneel on my bed, yearning for softness, yearning for love.

  “God,” I whisper, “if you are real, if you talk to someone as messed up as me, please, I need you…I need you…”

  I raise my arms as if lifting the lump sum of my pain to heaven.

  The weight of it is so much, I can’t handle it anymore. And I don’t even know all of what ‘it’ is. But it hurts like a bullet lodged and expanding through my heart.

  The pain of it all is so much.

  I fall to my pillow, still, waiting for whatever comes. Even if it’s the darkness, it’s got to be better than this hell I’ve carved out for myself.

  With my eyes closed and my face against the pillow I see the brightest light I’ve ever seen. The light rushes toward me as if it’s battling all the darkness, pressing the thick darkness away, toppling walls of inky blackness and engulfing me. In front of my vision two men stand on either side of a lamb that is radiating the streams of dazzling light. The light from the lamb is piercingly bright, yet soft, feather soft.

  “I am with you.” The lamb whispers. It’s such a thunderous sound that I don’t know what startles me more—that this creature spoke to me, or that the words pour through me into the emptiest corners of my heart. “I am with you through all of this. I will never stop holding you.”

  I burst up, a smile filling all my being. I’m hungry, really hungry for the first time in months.

  …your terrors have destroyed me.

  All day long they surround me like a flood;

  they have completely engulfed me.

  ~ Psalm 88:16-17

  Chapter 12

  Light in the Darkness

  “Go easy, Miya, especially since you were sick earlier.” Nate watches me pile pasta on my plate.

  “I’m just hungry for the first time in forever.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. And you look happy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t understand what. Is Jenny here?”

  “She’s babysitting tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  “You can go hang out with her.”

  “Oh. I might when I finish this.”
/>
  The brisk walk on a full belly feels really good. It’s several blocks to the house where Jenny’s babysitting tonight. Light continues to hang about me.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I hang out?” I ask Jenny when she answers the door.

  “Not at all. Come in. I heard about Daryl’s mom. I bet you need space after that. Crystal’s here too.”

  “I’m not bothering you, am I?” I step through the door.

  “Not at all. It’s just Timothy tonight, and he’s only six months old. He’s asleep for the night.”

  “You want something to drink?” Crystal asks.

  “Sure.” I hope it’s not alcoholic. The memory of that strange and enlightening vision still lingers, and alcohol might chase it away.

  Crystal hands me an iced tea. “We were just about to hang out in the garden.”

  Jenny angles her head as she looks at me. “You look remarkably happy after the morning you had.”

  “I just had something weird happen.” I open my mouth to describe the weird vision when that old familiar darkness crowds me. No. Not again. I thought the light defeated all that!

  But through the darkness, I see flashes. Flashes of memory. One memory after another.

  “Are you okay, Miya?” Jenny catches my arm. “You look like you’re going to faint.

  “I don’t mean to.” I allow her to lead me to a chair at the kitchen table. “I think…” Maybe Jenny and Crystal will forget that I spoke.

  “What is it?” Crystal looks at as if she will draw out my words with her eyes.

  But I don’t want to say anymore. “I think I’m remembering what I forgot.”

  “What did you forget?” Jenny asks.

  “A whole summer. I forgot an entire summer.”

  The girls begin to chatter again as if I haven’t said anything. I sigh with relief. Maybe I don’t have to tell anyone after all. Maybe I am strong enough to deal with this on my own.

  Without intending to, I open my mouth again. “Somebody did something to me.”

  “Who did something to you?”

  I shake my head. There’s no way that I can betray him. Not with Crystal here. Even if he did break up with her. But the memories batter me. “He did things I didn’t want him to. Things I asked him not to do. And he wouldn’t stop…”

  “Who, Miya?” Crystal asks.

  The shaking—oh, please don’t let this shaking hit me, not now. “Someone in my family, someone I love.” Whatever happens, I can’t say his name. I have to protect him.

  “What did he do?” Crystal asks.

  “I can’t…” The shaking’s getting worse. I grip hold of the table.

  “Did he rape you?” Jenny asks.

  Tears threaten to burst from my eyes. I have to be strong, though. I can’t break again. I’ve been broken so many times today. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t remember.”

  “You have to tell your mom.”

  “I can’t…I can’t do this…” I step away from the table and my legs give way, buckling at the knees. I hit the ground, my body bouncing with tremendous shudders, as darkness closes in. Don’t take me! Don’t take me! I have to be able to control this!

  “Miya.” My mom’s gentle voice calls me awake.

  Abbie lifts me up to my feet. “That’s it, Miya. We’ve got you.”

  Jenny gives my hand a squeeze. “They’ve got you, Miya. You’re going to be okay. Just make sure to tell your mom and Abbie everything you told Crystal and me. And you need to tell them who.”

  “Okay.”

  I can’t bring myself to talk the whole way home.

  Mom leads me into the kitchen and Abbie puts on the kettle for tea.

  “When you’re ready,” Mom says, “but I need you to tell me everything.”

  “It was Ryan.” The words usher forth like ash from my throat. I scrape at a loose fiber on the yellow table cloth. “He did things when I asked him to stop.”

  I think Mom might faint.

  “I’m so sorry, Mom.” My tears gush. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to ever have to tell you.”

  “You don’t ever need to be sorry,” Abbie says firmly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “But…” Another memory batters me. I wince. “But it was.”

  “This never was, nor could it be your fault,” Abbie says.

  Mom holds up her hand toward Abbie. “Miya, when did this happen?”

  “Before we moved to Silver Meadows.” I grip the table to try and stop this new wave of shaking. “And a little bit after we moved to Silver Meadows.”

  Mom covers her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Miya. How…how bad did he hurt you?”

  “He didn’t hurt so much, I think. I just…he wouldn’t stop. I mean it hurt, but he—I don’t know. It was all so dark before, and now it’s not so dark anymore, but it scares me more than ever. It scares me that I have to tell you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I have to tell you.”

  A box of tissues shows up at my elbow. It’s full, but not nearly enough. I have three years’ worth of tears, and more now that I have to tell Mom what her son, what Ryan did.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Miya.”

  “But this hurts you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about me, my darling.”

  “I—I—I need a cigarette,” I blubber through tears. “By the way, I smoke.”

  “I know. Don’t you worry about smoking right now. Let me hold you.”

  I nod as she wraps her arms around me, rocking me.

  I wipe away more tears. I’m right. There aren’t enough tissues.

  “First Daryl, then Daryl’s mom and now this,” Abbie says, setting tea in front of me. She’s made it just how I like it. “We’ll do what we can to protect you from now on.”

  How long must I wrestle with my thoughts

  and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

  ~ Psalm 13:2

  Chapter 13

  High School Blues

  By the end of the week, Ryan announces that he’s moving out, and into an apartment with his new girlfriend, Lisa. She’s paying, so he’ll still be at school. I sit on the curb, hugging my knees tight as I hear him pack his stuff.

  “It’s just weird around here now,” he says as he loads up the last of his clothes into Lisa’s car. “No one talks to me and everyone looks at me funny.”

  “Will I see you at school?” I ask. After four years, we’ll all be going to the same school again in three days. “Will you still keep an eye out for me like you promised?”

  “Yeah, if they don’t kick me out.” He lights up a cigarette then scrapes at the black nail polish on his thumbnail. He’ll have to paint that before the band’s next gig.

  If he wears his stage outfit, the nail polish, the black lipstick and eyeliner, they’ll kick him out of school for sure, just like they did last year. Then I won’t see him at all. I miss Ryan already. But the separation is my fault. I could have kept my mouth shut. I could have been strong enough to deal with this on my own. But I’m not.

  I sit on the curb, finishing my cigarette, as he drives down the street.

  *

  The high school principals don’t wait long before they hassle my brother. Ryan shows up on the second day with black nail polish and black lipstick; thin black eyeliner frames his eyes. For no other reason than to protect him from bullies, they suspend him.

  For the first time in forever the bullies leave me alone. It’s as if this school is too big for anyone to notice one person from another. I’m glad for that. But why does everyone seem to notice my brother? All the black makeup?

  On his first day back from suspension, he’s wearing the nail polish and lipstick again. And Nate adds his own statement with a long flowing skirt to rile the administration further.

  “Did you hear?” Gina asks me at lunch hour. “They just suspended both Ryan and Nate.”

  “Why?” Even though I know it’s only for spite, beca
use my brothers don’t fit the mold of what they think a student should be like.

  “The principals don’t want them to get bullied.”

  “That’s dumb. Who thought that would be a good idea?”

  She points at one of the assistant principals who stands with crossed arms in the middle of the cafeteria. “He was the one who called Nate to the office.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to have a few words with him.” I abandon my lunch and march toward him.

  “Don’t get yourself in trouble too!” Gina calls after me.

  I don’t care if they suspend me. Why should my brothers get suspended while the bullies get off scot-free?

  I plant my feet in front of the principal. He must be almost two feet taller than me. “Excuse me.”

  He stares down at me. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so. Did you just suspend two kids by the names of Ryan and Nate?”

  “You mean the cross-dressing brothers?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. They aren’t cross-dressers. Those are their stage outfits for their band.”

  “Then they should keep it for the stage.”

  “Is that the only reason they were suspended?” I’m shaking, but from anger. “Isn’t there any way you’ll reconsider your decision?”

  “Not at all. They have willingly put themselves at risk, even after warnings.” He’s so tall. He must have been on the basketball team when he attended high school. And he may have been one of the bullies. He doesn’t look very nice.

  “But why is there a risk? Have you ever bothered to stop and ask yourself that?”

  He plants his huge hands on his hips. Is he trying to intimidate me? It’s not working. “Look, I don’t know you, and this shouldn’t be any concern of yours.”

  I breathe a scoffing laugh. “I’m Miya. Their sister. Of course it concerns me. Please reconsider your decision.”

  “Your parents can submit a formal complaint with the school board, but I’m done with this discussion.”

  “I’m nowhere near done! You can’t do this! You can’t leave me here all by myself!”