by Darlene Ryan
I cut him off. “And you heard what Nick said.”
He nodded. “I haven’t told anyone. I wouldn’t.”
Right. Except here he was telling me.
I glared at him. At least I hoped that’s how it came across. I was bigger than he was, and I could pound him if I had to, but I didn’t want to. “What did you hear?”
Luckily he was the kind of person who talked way too much. He put the last bit of his burger on the paper wrapper and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Not that much, really. I know that you’re going to be waiting for her on the trail after she gets off work and take her down into the woods behind the school.” His voice was so damn whiney I thought I might have to pound him after all.
I kept on eating the onion rings, like I wasn’t all that interested in what he was saying.
“And...and I heard Nick say about her hair. How you’re gonna shave it off and all.” He laughed. “She’s gonna have to go to another school or get a wig or tie a scarf around her head the way people who have cancer do.”
Nick was going to shave Erin’s head. How did he think he was going to get away with that?
“Go,” I said to Oliver. “Go home and keep your mouth shut. You got it?”
He nodded. Then he took off. He was afraid of me. He didn’t even stop to grab the rest of his food. Yeah, I was such a tough guy. Except now what was I supposed to do? Go tell Erin? Oh yeah, that had worked so well the last time I’d tried it. Try to stop Nick? I thought about how it still hurt when I took a deep breath. No way.
What made him think it would work, anyway? Even if they could grab Erin without her seeing them, she’d know their voices. She’d know because who else would want to do something like that to her? Did he think she wouldn’t go to the cops?
It wasn’t going to work. She’d see them or hear them and run and scream and it wouldn’t work.
I gathered up the garbage and stuffed it all in one of the cans. Then I went home.
Chapter Six
Dad was back. He’d had a haircut and he smelled like some kind of aftershave that made my nose prickle. He was standing in front of the little closet, going through his shirts. His guitar was back in its usual place. “Where were you?” he said.
“Out,” I said, dropping into a chair. “Where were you?”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “Out,” he said, mimicking my voice.
“At Rusty’s,” I said. Rusty’s was a bar near one of the highway off-ramps. They were always after my dad to play there. He was good, and he knew all the old country and rock stuff people wanted to hear. But it’s kinda hard to be in a bar and not drink a lot, and it was better if he didn’t drink too much. I don’t mean that he got rough or anything. He’d just cry and miss my mom and be depressed for weeks. So it was better if he didn’t go to Rusty’s at all.
His back stiffened. “Yeah, I was at rusty’s. We got rent due, and I like to eat.” There was silence for a moment and then he continued, “I didn’t drink. Not even one.” He found the shirt he was looking for and pulled it on.
“Nice haircut,” I said, sarcastically. It was a lot shorter than Dad usually wore his hair, but it looked okay. Not that I’d tell him that.
He grinned. “I’m being interviewed for the newspaper. Not that little rinky-dink one here—the morning paper that goes all over everywhere. It’s one of those ‘do the right thing’ stories.” He shrugged. “Maybe something’ll come of it.”
Do the right thing. What was the right thing when it came to Nick and Erin? “Dad, can I ask you something?” I said.
He was rooting in the closet again. “What?” he said.
How could I say it? I know this guy who’s going to drag this girl into the woods and shave her head?
Dad straightened up, holding his leather jacket. “I don’t have a lot of time, Kev.”
“When I was out I was talking to one of the guys from school and—”
“Not the one who ‘accidentally’ hit you a dozen times playing that stupid game in your gym class?” I’d blamed all the bruises I’d gotten from Nick—even the ones on my neck—on the dodgeball game. I hadn’t been able to hide them.
“No, not him. It was one of the guys he hangs with and—”
“How many times I gotta tell you? Stay away from those guys!”
I leaned across the table. “No, see, Dad, you don’t understand—”
But he wouldn’t let me finish a sentence. “Just stay the hell away from them. Why is that so hard?” He was still going on as he pulled on his jacket. “Christ! If those morons all ran off the side of a cliff, would you go over right along with them? You’ve got a brain. For once in your life, use it. Can’t you find someone else in that school other than those punks to be friends with?”
“You don’t get it,” I said.
Dad held up his hand and cut me off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just stay away from them.” He jerked his head in the direction of the refrigerator. “Your supper’s in there. I don’t know what time I’ll be back.” Then he was gone.
I slumped down in my chair. What could I do? I’d tried everything. And what was the worst that could happen? So they shave her head, I thought. It’s just hair. It will grow back.
Chapter Seven
There was coleslaw and fried chicken in the fridge. I saved some of the meat for the cats and ate everything else. Then I played Doom Master for a while, but I couldn’t get past level eight.
Maybe Dad was right, I thought. Maybe it would just be better if I stayed away from Nick and those guys for good. Anyway, if Dad didn’t find a job soon, we’d be moving again. And then none of it would matter.
I found half a bag of bacon-flavored chips in one of the cupboards. They were kind of stale, but I ate them anyway.
It wasn’t that big a deal. It was just hair. Nick would make her look stupid, and then he’d be happy and start torturing someone else. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried to warn Erin about Nick. Besides, maybe Oliver had everything wrong. Just because he was a geekazoid didn’t mean he was smart.
I looked at the clock over the sink. It was eight o’clock. I knew Erin worked at the Pumpkin Patch, and it closed at eight. The potato chips felt like a big greasy lump in my stomach.
What if I just walked over there? Oliver said they were going to take her into the woods behind the school. I hadn’t grown up in Ellerton, but I knew the woods and the trails pretty well just the same. I could find them, sneak up and see what was going on without getting caught.
I could hear my dad in my head saying, “Stay away from them.” But I couldn’t stand it. I’d just go see what they were doing. Nothing else. I couldn’t think about it anymore. I grabbed my sweatshirt, locked the trailer and took off.
It wasn’t hard to find them. I ducked into the woods at the edge of the football field and walked slowly, watching the ground and listening. I heard them before I saw them. They were in a bit of a clearing surrounded by thick cedars and alders. I crouched beside a twisted tree trunk.
All three of the guys were wearing coveralls—the disposable kind painters sometimes use. That made sense. Nick’s uncle was a painter. And they were wearing Halloween masks: a cartoon mouse, a dog and a duck.
I looked for Erin. She was on her side on the ground. My stomach rolled over and I tasted something sour in the back of my mouth. She was blindfolded with a rag and tied up with duct tape. All she was wearing was jeans, sneakers and a bra. I saw what I figured was her shirt—it was orange, the color the staff wore at the Pumpkin Patch—thrown to one side near the trees.
I edged a little closer, staying low to the ground until I was just a few feet away. Nick was making fun of Erin’s underwear, just a plain white cotton bra—no lace, nothing sexy. I knew it was Nick, but not just because he was the tallest of the three. It was the way he stood, like he owned the world.
“I shoulda guessed you were some kind of lesbo,” I heard him say. He was using a voice distortion box that made his voice sou
nd mechanical, like he was some kind of machine. The coveralls, the masks, the voice thing—he’d done a lot of planning. I tried to swallow the sourness in my mouth, but it wouldn’t go away.
Erin tried to sit up, but Nick pushed her back down with one foot. “Where you goin’? The party hasn’t even started yet.”
They’d cut off her braid. Ragged bits of hair hung down to her chin. An ugly welt on the side of her face was already turning purple. There were streaks of dirt on her jeans. I squinted at Nick and noticed a long scratch on the back of his left hand. Erin had to have done that. Good for you, I thought.
“I know it’s you, Nick,” she said, lifting her head a little. “You’re wasting your time with your little Robo-Ranger walkie-talkie.” She kicked her feet out. “And I know that’s you, Zach. I can smell your aftershave from here.”
Nick turned toward the cartoon duck and held up a warning hand.
“And you’re here too, Brendan. You always smell like gas. Maybe that’s why you can’t get a girl to stand near you.”
The dog mask started for Erin, but Nick stepped forward and stopped him. Then he kicked Erin’s feet. “Shut up,” he said in the mechanical voice.
Erin sucked in a sharp breath. “And I know you, Nick, because I can smell the stink of trash anywhere.”
Shut up, Erin, I thought. Just shut up. Let them shave your head and get it over with.
Nick bent over and grabbed Erin by the jaw, pulling her up so she was sitting. She was shaking. Nick traced his index finger down the side of Erin’s neck and along the top of her shoulder, pushing her bra strap down at the same time. There was a smirk on his face, and I could hear how hard he was breathing. He pushed his mask up onto the top of his head.
My stomach sloshed like I was on the Spinmaster at the Exhibition. Nick ran his finger across Erin’s throat. Something in the way he was touching her, playing with her, reminded me of George playing with a bird he’d caught one time.
The cat had come wandering up the road with a tiny finch in his mouth. I thought the thing was dead, and I was going to take it away from George, get a shovel and bury it. Then the cat dropped the bird onto the grass. It started to flap its wings. George reached out with one big orange paw and gave it a smack. After a minute he lifted his paw and started washing his face. The finch tried again to get away. George paused long enough to bat it down and went back to washing behind his good ear. The bird didn’t move again. When George finished, he poked the bird a couple of times with a paw. Then he picked it up, came across the lawn to the driveway and dropped it at my feet. He looked up at me and I swear he had the same smug grin I could see on Nick’s face.
Nick had pushed down Erin’s other bra strap and trailed his finger down along her collarbone.
I can’t let him do this, I thought. What time was it? Would there be anyone in the school at this time of night? Could I run to the school, find help and get back in time?
I wished I’d stayed home, stayed away like my dad had said. There wasn’t anything I could do. There were three of them and one of me. Nick could hurt me all by himself and then do anything he wanted to Erin. How was that going to help her?
My legs were shaking. I looked at Erin with Nick looming over her. She was so close I could almost touch her myself. She was crying, not making any sounds, but I could see the tears soaking the bottom of the blindfold. Zach and Brendan stood there watching Nick—just as Erin had said—like sheep.
Maybe I could talk to him. Maybe I could make Nick see that if he went any further it was going to seriously screw up his life. Maybe I could talk Erin into keeping her mouth shut and then everything would be all right for everyone.
Maybe Nick would turn me into roadkill.
Chapter Eight
I got to my feet and stepped out from behind the trees.
“What in hell are you doing here?” Nick said. He didn’t even bother with the voice changer. “You didn’t see anything. Go home.”
I shook my head and pressed the palms of my hands against my thighs so my legs wouldn’t shake so much. “You don’t want to do this, man,” I said. “C’mon, let it go. It’s not worth it.”
Two steps and Nick was inches away from me. “How would you know what I wanna do?” he said. Bits of spit hit me in the face. “You think you’re my mother or something?” Nick shoved me with both hands, and I went down on my knees. Erin had started to crawl away, even though she couldn’t see.
Nick moved in front of her and stepped on her hand. She screamed. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “We haven’t had our little party yet.”
I struggled to my feet and shoved Nick aside. “Leave her alone.”
He laughed. “You’re telling me what to do, pussy? Get your ass out of my way and get your own girlfriend.”
“She’s not your girlfriend,” I said. “Walk away, Nick.” I tried to make my voice stronger. “You can’t do this. It’s gone way too far. Leave her alone and get out of here. It’s not too late.” I glanced down at Erin. “Nobody is going to say anything. Right?”
Nick smiled and gave an elaborate shrug. “Well, I wouldn’t want to go too far,” he said. He turned as though he was going to leave. Then he whipped back around and punched me square in the gut.
I dropped like my legs had been chopped off. Nick kicked me in the ribs, the left ones that were still bruised. It was like a knife slicing through my chest. I couldn’t breathe.
Nick bent over me. “Listen to me, you little freakin’ pussy. Nobody tells me what to do.” He looked over his shoulder at Erin. His voice suddenly sounded slimy. “Don’t worry, sweet stuff. I haven’t forgotten about you,” he said. “We’ll have our little party in a minute.”
He yanked me up by the front of my sweatshirt, half choking me. I looked at Zach and Brendan in their stupid masks, just standing there. “Help me,” I croaked. They didn’t move. Nick punched me in the face, and then he smashed me across the mouth. He let go and I slumped to the ground.
I tasted blood. Everything in front of my right eye went blurry. Nick kicked me in the ribs, again and again. I kicked at him, but I couldn’t make contact.
Erin was screaming. Nick looked at Brendan. “Shut her up.” For a second, Brendan hesitated. “Shut her up.”
Brendan leaned over Erin and pressed his hand hard over her mouth. She bit him. He pulled his hand back, swore and slapped her. “She bit me!” he yelled.
Nick’s arm shot out, and he grabbed Erin by the hair. “You’re gonna be sorry for that,” he told her. “Very sorry.”
She spat at him, catching the side of his chin. Slowly he wiped the spit away with the sleeve of his coverall. Then he slapped Erin so hard her head whipped to the side.
“Cops are coming,” I croaked.
Nick laughed again. “God, you are so freakin’ stupid. You expect me to believe you called the cops? If you had, they’d have showed up, not you.”
“My dad.” Blood was filling my mouth. I turned my head to spit. “I left a note. My dad...home from work by now. He’ll call...for sure.”
“Yeah, you left a note for Daddy, pussy boy. Sure you did.” Just then, miraculously, I heard sirens.
For a second I thought I was hallucinating. Then I saw Nick’s face, and I knew the sound was real. “Told you,” I whispered. I needed Nick to take off before he figured out the sirens were going somewhere else. “I didn’t...no one knows your name...go and you’re out of it.”
The sound was getting louder.
Nick gave me one last kick to the back of my legs. “We’re not done, pussy boy,” he said. He pulled Erin to her feet.
No! I tried to get upright, tried to speak, but there was blood in my mouth again. “Let’s go,” Nick said to Erin. “Time to move the party.”
Erin turned her head and puked all over Nick. “Christ,” he shouted. “You freakin’ bitch!”
The sirens seemed to be getting closer. Were they coming to save us?
Nick stripped off his coveralls and rolled
them into a ball.
“C’mon,” Brendan said, pulling at Nick’s arm. “We gotta get out of here.”
Nick hesitated, and then he bent over me. “You are going to be so goddamn sorry,” he said. I held my breath. I could hear something nearby in the trees—was it my imagination? was it help? “Go,” Nick said to Brendan and Zach, and they all took off into the woods.
I rolled onto my side and heaved too. Erin crawled over to me, feeling her way along the ground. “The police will be here in a minute,” she said.
“No police,” I choked out.
“What do you mean?”
“Made it up. Got to...get out of here.” I tried to sit up but the trees started swirling around me.
“Are you all right?” Erin said.
“I don’t...know.” I leaned against her and managed to sit up. I reached over and pulled down her blindfold. My arm accidentally brushed her shoulder and she jerked away. I fell back down, groaning with pain.
“I’m sorry,” Erin whispered. “I didn’t—”
“S’all right.” I got on my side and managed to sit up without her help. For a minute I just took deep breaths and the swirling slowed down.
“Stick out...your arms,” I said. Erin looked at me, confused. “Arms.” Then she got what I meant. She turned her back to me and stuck out both arms.
I managed to pull off the duct tape. She whimpered when the last bit came loose from her skin.
“Sorry,” I whispered. Erin peeled the tape off her ankles. I got my right arm out of my sweatshirt, but I couldn’t lift the left arm over my head. I couldn’t take a deep breath because the pain was so bad on my left side. There was no way I could pull the shirt off by myself. “Help me,” I said to Erin.
“What are you doing?” She pulled back again and wrapped both arms around her-self. She was still shaking.
I was sticky with sweat and not so sure I wasn’t going to barf again, but I had the polar fleece half off. “Help me,” I said again.