CHAPTER 7
MOLLY
Lucky snored in my lap as I sat looking out onto our snow covered lawn. I pet him slowly, just the way he liked it, grateful for his warmth. Our house was warm, but I still felt cold, deep in my bones. The cast was hard and uncomfortable and the sound my bone made when it broke kept echoing in my head, my father’s eyes still flashing angrily in my mind.
I’d been thinking about what Benji said earlier. I felt bad for him. I know he only wants to help me. He’s just being my friend. But I could tell he was upset. So upset that he’d tried to call some stranger to help me, apparently.
I don’t know what gave him the idea that might work. He’d grown up here, just the same as me. He should have known by now that some things never change.
Daddy was Daddy. Nothing would make him be another person. I remember once when Grandma was still alive, she’d told me her favorite quote came from Maya Angelou — ‘Once someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time’. It made sense to me.
I mean, I’d tried it myself — to get Daddy to change, that is. I’d even seen Mama try to get him to calm down, time and time again. But nothing ever worked. Talking to him, giving him the silent treatment after one of his outbursts, crying, pleading — nothing at all made the monster that lived inside of him disappear for very long.
The monster was there, even when he was smiling.
Sure, it might go away for a few days, every now and then he even apologized — but something would always set him off, bringing the monster raging all over again.
By now, I was used to it. I knew to get out of the way, if I could. Most of the time, I couldn’t. Once, after a time I didn’t get away from him fast enough, I’d run up to my room and locked the door after he hurt me.
But he’d just had the door removed the next day while I was at school. It was a month before he put it back.
That was the first time he’d broken my wrist. I could still feel the heat rolling off his body, still see his eyes, red and flashing with rage that now appeared in my nightmares.
I guess I’d learned the hard way.
Benji hadn’t figured it out yet. I don’t know who he called, but I did know for sure that it wouldn’t help. I just had to hold on until I was old enough to get out of here, do my best to keep from upsetting Daddy, and remember the lies word for word that he forced me to tell when I angered him too much.
I could deal with the bruises.
With the broken bones, too…they’d heal just the same.
It was just a matter of time. I knew this. I had to believe it.
Benji would figure that out, too, eventually.
Until then, I’d learned how to tip toe through the house without making waves. Sure, I screwed up every now and then, but the instances were fewer the more I stayed out of his way.
This was just life.
My life. I was born into this.
It wasn’t great, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever.
Just another eight years or so. Then, I’d be eighteen, and apparently that was some magical age where, by law, I’d be able to leave. The law said he couldn’t stop me at that age, but to tell you the truth, I was pretty sure some long-awaited strike of the clock wouldn’t really make any difference to Daddy.
But still, I held onto the hope that it was true.
Eight years didn’t sound so bad when I’d already survived ten living under this roof with him. If I admitted to myself that it could last forever, I’d never survive.
Maria called me down to dinner and I snuggled Lucky back into my bed before heading down. I cringed when I saw Daddy sitting at the table. Mama sat across from him, her hair hanging down around her face like a curtain, hiding her eyes. She barely looked up at me.
“Hello, Molly,” Daddy said, his voice cold as he glanced at my cast. I knew he was mad at me. Even though he’d been the one that was angry yesterday. He’d been the one that twisted my arm so hard it fractured, but I knew he still blamed me for making him do it.
“Hello,” I mumbled, as I sat down, pulling the napkin into my lap, avoiding his gaze.
“How was school?” he asked, as Maria placed a platter of salmon, covered in slices of lemon and bathed in butter, on the table.
My heart skipped a beat as I glanced up at him quickly. Had the person Benji called been in touch with him? I’d worried about it all day.
“It was okay,” I said, my stomach doing nervous flips.
He nodded slowly, his eyes studying me for a long moment. I forced myself to smile up at Maria as she placed a bowl of wild rice next to the salmon.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“You’re welcome, bonita,” she said, walking out of the room, leaving me alone with my parents. I waited until Daddy started eating before picking up my fork with trembling fingers. I’d been ravenous before coming down, but now that my stomach was churning, I knew it would be a chore getting my dinner down. I ate slowly, watching Mama push her food around on her plate.
“Did Ms. Canterbury talk to you today, Molly?” Daddy asked, between bites. I shook my head and stuffed a forkful of rice in my mouth, knowing the fewer words I uttered, the better. “I heard there was someone asking about me.”
“I didn’t see her all day,” I said.
“Good,” he nodded. “Let me know if she says anything.”
I nodded back. Ms. Canterbury wouldn’t say a word to me and he knew that. He had her, and everyone else at that school, wrapped around his finger. They’d never do anything to risk the funding he provided them.
He glanced over at Mama, who was now almost nodding off in her plate and he shook his head in disgust.
“For fuck’s sake, Marilyn, can’t you even hold your head up long enough for dinner?”
His raised voice snapped her awake and she flashed him a weak, sad smile.
“I’m sorry, Bodhi,” she muttered.
“You’re never going to get your shit together, are you?”
She shook her head and stared down at her plate.
“My meds,” she murmured quietly.
“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” he barked. “I should kick you out on your ass.”
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze defiantly, even through her cloudy haze.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said.
“Don’t test me, Marilyn,” he growled. “You know what will happen if you talk back to me, and you won’t like it.”
“Are you going to break my arm, like you broke Molly’s?”
I stared at them with wide eyes, shocked Mama was talking to him like this. It wasn’t like her. Not at all.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Mama said, looking over at me with her sad eyes. I didn’t know what to say — I didn’t want to make Daddy any more angry than he already was and I knew Mama was skating on thin ice.
“You’re sorry?!” he shouted, quickly jumping to his feet, his voice roaring through the room. “What are you sorry for, Marilyn? Your opiate addiction? For caring more about the wrinkles around your eyes and the size of your tits than your own daughter?”
“I care about her more than you ever will,” she said, seething in anger now. “And you’re the one who made me get the operation! I wouldn’t be addicted to these things if it wasn’t for you!”
My heart raced as Daddy ran around the table and snatched Mama from her seat, slapping her hard. She cried out and fell to the floor, her hair covering her crying face. I sat frozen in my seat, tears rolling down my face.
Maria rushed in from the kitchen and ushered me from my chair, leading me back up to my room and leaving my parents alone in the dining room.
By the time my bedroom door closed behind us, I was shaking. Maria pulled me into her arms, smashing my face against her soft chest.
“Shh, bonita, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured. I nodded and wiped my tears. I had nothing to cry about. Mama was the one that got hit tonight. But still the tears flowed.
“I’m okay,” I said, pulling away from Maria’s embrace.
“Yes, you are,” she said, leaning down and pushing my hair away from my face. “I’ll bring your plate up in a few minutes so you can finish your dinner.”
I nodded and tried to muster a smile.
“Thanks, Maria,” I said, sniffling.
“You’re okay, bonita, you’re okay…”
I knew I was okay. It was Mama I was worried about. When I heard her footsteps running down the hallway past my door and the slamming of their bedroom door, I knew she was safe.
At least for now.
I wanted to run to her, to hug her, to do something to make her feel better, but I knew she’d locked the door and would never let me in.
“I’ll be right back, bonita,” Maria said, turning back when she got to the door. “You stay here and lock your door, okay? I’ll knock in a few minutes.”
I locked the door behind her, even though I knew Daddy would be mad if he knew. I didn’t care, because now me and Mama were both safe in our rooms, the monster locked away on the other side, if only for a few moments.
I flung myself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling as I covered my ears to block out the faint sound of Mama crying down the hall.