by Lily White
That was how I’d remained sane for so many years of my life. The only thing I knew to do was to seek out those precise numbers.
Three forty-three. It was Wednesday. I would be leaving the grocery store. It would take me twenty-five minutes to drive home, seven to lug the groceries up to my apartment, eighteen to put them away after taking care to wash all my vegetables and split the meat into smaller portions before putting it in the freezer.
After that, I would take ten minutes to gather my dirty laundry, three to run downstairs, seven to dump my clothes in the different washers, add soap and count my quarters before starting the machines. It took seventeen minutes for the first wash cycle, two for rinse, three for spin-
A hand pounded on the window next to me, and I screamed, my eyes darting left to see Noah staring down at me. I opened the door and almost fell out, my mind and body in full-blown panic.
Noah caught me. “Hey. It’s fine, Ens. Calm down.”
“The cop-“
“Didn’t see me. I checked the store for security cameras and when I didn’t find any, I ran out the service door in back. I was able to escape into the cornfields before the cop even knew what was happening. But we can’t stay here, Ensley. We have to go before that cashier wakes up and tells the cop who he saw.”
“You’re sure? You’re positive you didn’t kill them?”
Noah’s eye met mine, concern lining his forehead.
“I’m sure. Nobody is dead. Now scoot over so we can get the hell out of here and keep it that way.”
Nodding my head, I did as he told me, my eyes watching the side mirror the entire drive back to the interstate. I was searching for any movement, any glimmer of sun off the hood of a car, any blue light flashing against the tall rows of corn that boxed us in.
Once we were on the open road and flatland stretched out in front of us promising a path to freedom, I glanced down at the clock.
It was four thirteen.
I would be taking the groceries upstairs.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ensley
September 19, 1996
Tammy Bennett was officially a mother.
I thought about sending announcements out to her friends. It’s a girl! written in elaborate pink script, cutesy cartoon pictures of a pacifier and hair bows, the birthdate and height and weight measurements listed below because for some reason people wanted to know that stuff. I wasn’t sure why. But regardless, there it would be, my announcement:
Ensley Aimee Bennett
Born September 18, 1996
93 pounds and 7 ounces
5 foot 3 inches
What the announcement wouldn’t list was that I was born in a bathroom at Carrington High School with three boys that had wanted more than I would give, so much so that they’d tried to take it anyway and made me the town slut.
Momma couldn’t stand for that, not in front of her newest boyfriend, not when she had to teach me a lesson. She’d never cared before, but now the woman was determined to make every day I was suspended worse than the one before it. It was her job to punish. Her job to mother. Her job to make the newest guy she was entertaining believe she actually gave a damn about how her children grew up.
And I couldn’t tell Noah.
So while he was probably waiting for me in his room each night wondering if I was avoiding him after what we’d done, I was being led into a small shed connected to our house to have mom’s lesson beaten into me with a leather belt, either folded over itself or with the buckle, my back, butt and legs so bruised and the skin so raw that I could barely lay down or sit.
My pride was so wounded that after the third day, I would shuffle back without complaint, wait for my hands to be cuffed and would take every blow with my eyes staring straight ahead at a small digital clock that was always plugged in, just counting down the minutes.
Mom said the same things every time.
Good girls will learn to behave.
Little girls don’t spread their legs for little boys.
If you want to act like an adult, you will pay your way.
I wondered how much I should have made for raising her three youngest children.
Tonight was the fourth night, and while I tucked the kids into their warm beds and read them stories about castles and fluffy, little animals that helped with chores and sang pretty songs, I would glance out my window, past that secret I’d buried in the ground, at a window that had a warm amber light shining behind it welcoming me home.
Because that was the truth when you broke it all down: Noah’s house was more home to me than my mother’s.
The story ended and I carefully lay next to Devin since it was her turn in the rotation, flinching every time her little body would squirm and one of my wounds would touch the mattress. I didn’t want to get up as soon as I knew they were asleep, but I knew better than to wait it out. Mom was out there expecting to teach me my lesson again, her and her boyfriend, Richard.
All I wanted to do was sleep, but I couldn’t do it without Noah by my side. Only he could chase the nightmares away and make me believe everything would turn out fine in the end.
Only him.
I had no doubt his heart was breaking every night because he believed I was avoiding him after having sex.
Maybe I was.
But not for the right reasons.
A breath escaped my lungs, hard and shaky, but I pushed myself to my feet, willing myself to creep from the kids’ room and down the hall, into the living room where Mom and her boyfriend sat watching me.
Surprised to see a third person sitting on a dirty couch opposite them, I turned to stare at the stranger, recognition not coming to me.
Mom must have seen the confusion on my face.
“Ensley, this is Franklin, a friend of Richard’s. Be polite and say hello.”
I didn’t want to say hello, didn’t give much of a damn about manners. All I wanted was to go to the shed and accept my punishment so that I could lie on the cat piss floor afterward and cry.
That’s where she always left me after her arm was sore and she was done. Mom would unbuckle those cuffs and watch me crumble, her bare feet padding softly away as the first sobs shook my body.
Above me that bare light bulb would always sway, back and forth, back and forth, as if the violence of my punishment had rocked the shed at its foundation, those thin wood walls creaking with every blow.
I didn’t want to say hello, but I did.
The man stared across at me with beady, brown eyes and a stern expression. His receding, blond hair long in back, his shirt buttons open at the collar, the bottom hem left untucked from the jeans he wore beneath a belly that was protruding.
He looked greasy, like if I touched him, my hand would pull away shining beneath the light. The air around me was thick with a new type of cologne and I wondered if this man bathed in it rather than taking a shower.
It made me miss Noah, his smell, because Noah was always clean, the fresh scent of soap mixing with the fresh earth scent of his natural skin. I would have given anything to be curled up next to him, but instead I was greeting my mother’s newest friend.
Mom stood up with the flourish of a ballroom dancer, the bottom of her white robe dancing around her ankles, her long hair brushed back and her face full of the makeup she used to chase away the years and her age.
“Come with me, Ens.”
Finally.
I almost laughed to think I was relieved to go into the shed and take my beating. Instead, Mom led me into the kitchen and motioned for me to sit at the table, the same place I sat when she’d stolen my hair a year ago. I didn’t want to sit, but I knew better than to argue.
She went to work pouring brown alcohol into a small tumbler, her hand reaching into her pocket and out again to drop something into the drink. I thought it was for her, but when she turned, she walked to the table to set it down in front of me.
I stared up at her.
What body part of mine was she ho
ping to sell now? Was Franklin the surgeon that would cut out my organs? How much were kidneys going for on the black market these days, or, hell, maybe my lungs or my heart?
Mom slid into a chair facing me, blue eyes emotionless and cruel. “You’ll want to drink that. It helps the first time.”
The first time for what?
“I don’t want it. Just take me to the shed like you normally do, and I’ll accept my punishment.”
She smiled, the expression as dirty as her.
“Drink it, Ensley. I’m only trying to help you. To teach you how this is done. If you don’t drink it yourself, I’ll force it down your throat, but the alcohol would burn more that way, probably climb up and into your nose. You don’t want that to happen. So just drink.”
“How what is done?”
Her lips didn’t part on her answer. They pulled into a strict line instead. I picked up the glass swallowed the bitter, yet too sweet, liquid.
“That’s a good girl. I’ll give that a minute to numb you a little, then we’ll walk to the shed.”
“Mom, what is going on?”
The terror was rushing through me now as heavy as the alcohol that was a warm wash down my body, the effects kicking in much faster than the first time she’d drugged me. I couldn’t believe I drank what she’d given, but being held down wouldn’t be better. The kids would hear the struggle. They’d come out here. They’d cry to see me fighting Mom, and I couldn’t do that to them.
How many times would I have to sacrifice myself to protect the people I loved?
“Your head is wobbling,” she chuckled, like it was the funniest thing to drug your own kid.
Standing, she motioned for me to follow. “Let’s get this over with.”
Pushing up on my feet, I had to balance myself with a hand on the table, the room spinning around me like a carousel, the walls breathing in and out like we were swallowed by some giant beast and floating in its stomach acid. I put one foot in front of the other, my right shoulder bouncing off one wall in the hallway before my left hit the other, and by the time we reached the small door leading into the shed, I could barely hold my weight up, my legs numb and flimsy.
I moved to my normal spot, and Mom buckled my hands where they needed to be, her skin warm and soft against my wrists.
“I gave you that drink to help calm you. Not that I think you’ll need it, not given your recent activities. But a girl needs to earn her way, Ensley, much like I’ve been doing all these years. It’s time you help out since your father can’t be bothered.”
She spoke at my back, the sound of her voice with that strange wavering edge as if I were underwater and she was standing above the surface.
“This is the deal I’m giving you after tonight. Your rent is due at the end of each week. That includes enough for a roof over your head, power and water, and the food you eat. It’s your choice how you want to earn that money, either through your dalliances or the ones I set up for you. If you don’t have enough when Friday rolls around, then you’ll make it up to me over the weekend.”
She leaned into me from behind, her nicotine breath brushing my cheek, the stink forcing rancid bile up my throat to coat the back of my mouth.
“Don’t give it away for free is what I’m telling you. Not to Noah. Not to the boys at school. Not to anybody. And don’t tell anybody what you’re doing. It would be a pity if child services stepped in to take you and your siblings away. What would that do to you? You wouldn’t see Noah again and your brother and sisters would be separated. It wouldn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be child free, and you’d still be the town whore now that your record at school reflects what you were doing in the bathroom.”
A chill ran down my spine, a thousand icy fingers scratching against the warmth of being drugged. My eyes closed as I hung there with a single light bulb swaying overhead.
“It doesn’t have to be painful, Ensley. Be sure to make the right choice. Just like I had to do many years ago.”
Her hand patted me on the shoulder.
“I gave you that drink to help you. You’re my special little girl. So pretty, like a fucking doll.”
Mom stepped back, and I expected the first lashing of the belt, but instead I heard her footsteps as they walked away, the door closing to the shed, but not latching, silence creeping in like an insidious whisper because I knew what would happen next.
My tears were already falling when heavier steps approached, when the shed door swung open and closed and when a hand touched my side and slid down to my hip. The scent of cologne made me dizzy, and I flinched because I knew. More bile shot up my throat.
It was this or the boys of my choosing from this moment forward.
I knew what my choice would be in the end, and I made my decision while the shed was rocked on its foundation again, but for a very different reason.
I thought of the flowers that would grow over this toxic secret, thought of Noah waiting for me in his bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ensley
September 23, 1996
Monday rolled around, and I was allowed to return to school. Like every morning, I gathered up the kids, cooked them breakfast, watched out the window while Noah hurried down that strip of grass looking for something. He’d done it the past few days without seeing me staring at him, his expression always pissed off and confused.
His bus had left before I got the kids out the door, a fake smile plastered on my face as I watched them tug their little bags up their shoulders and march up the three stairs into their bus, little hands waving at me from windows when they pulled away.
And then I was off and running, as fast as I could given the bruising on my butt and legs. Mom hadn’t used the belt on me again since the night she changed the rules, and I was healing for the most part, no longer in pain, not in body anyway.
I tried not to think about what the last few nights had done to me, tried to shove it as deep as I could because life would return to normal if I just played the game right. All I cared about was getting to Noah’s house again. All I wanted was to curl up beside him. I was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that happened again.
I would do whatever it took.
For Noah.
For the kids.
I would sell an arm or a leg, would drink down whatever poison my mother handed me. Would take whatever beating I had coming my way if it meant I could choose where I slept at night.
By Noah.
In his bed.
Where for a few hours I knew I was safe.
When I got to my school, I was in such a hurry that I didn’t notice who was standing outside, not until I ran right into him, my forehead bouncing off his chest.
“Slow down, Ens.”
Noah grabbed my shoulders and kept me from tipping over, my eyes blinking up at him with tears stinging the rims.
“Hey,” I whispered, afraid to speak any louder because my voice might crack and all those secrets would come pouring out, making everything worse than it already was.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?”
His eyes searched my face.
“I haven’t seen you since that day in your yard, and you’re worried about me being in class?”
Noah’s voice sounded pained. But it would be okay. It had to be. I would behave, be a good little girl. I would make my money and give it to my mom and everything else would be like normal again.
“Mom is being perfect again for her boyfriend and decided I should be grounded for getting suspended from school. She wouldn’t let me out of the house to tell you what was going on.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie, so I felt comfortable telling it. He wouldn’t know. Not like he always did.
He stared at me for several minutes before nodding his head and pulling me in for a hug. I winced when his arms rubbed the shirt against my bruises, hoping he didn’t notice.
Stepping back, he tipped a finger under my chin and tilted my head up to look at him
.
“You’re my girlfriend.”
“What?” With wide eyes, I stared up at Noah like he’d lost his damn mind in the days he hadn’t seen me. He only grinned in response.
“That’s what I told everybody at school so the guys would leave you alone. I also threatened to kick anybody’s ass that bothered you about that incident in the bathroom. So, if anybody says a word, you let me know.”
Except, I wouldn’t. Noah couldn’t know a thing about what I had to do and why I had to do it.
“Tell them we broke up.”
Pain flashed behind his eyes. “Why?”
“Because you don’t need your reputation smeared by being associated with me. People like you here. The teachers and other students. They look to you as someone who’s going somewhere and I’m just the girl who causes trouble.”
A group of students walked past us, their heads turning to glance our direction, and instead of listening to me, Noah palmed my cheek and leaned down to kiss me.
I melted right there and didn’t push him away because his scent wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. I wanted to sleep for days in his bed. Just sleep and dream and breathe.
“Not happening, Ens. You’re my girl. Get used to it.”
My heart shattered in a million pieces because all I wanted was for that to be true.
“Let’s get to class.”
Nodding my head, I followed him inside, gave him a quick hug before turning down my hall. I watched as he ran to his class with his bag bouncing over a broad shoulder until he was out of sight. But rather than going to class where Ms. Goldmire would just kick me out, I weaved through the halls directly to the bathrooms in D-Hall where I knew I would find the guy who had caused all my problems to begin with.
I had been Noah’s girl for a whole fifteen minutes and already I was a cheater.
Opening the door, I was met with the scent of pot smoke, Kyle’s green eyes sliding my direction as I walked in, dropped my bag and jumped up to sit on the counter.
He was leaning against the wall not caring that we’d both just gotten back from suspension, his mouth curling up into a smirk.