Give Me Wings

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Give Me Wings Page 18

by Joy Redmond


  “That’s nice. Now, Carnikko don’t be picking on Sandra and making her cry. If you do, I’ll severely punish you! Do you understand?”

  “Yeah, I understand,” she answered. “But I ain’t gonna hold her hand.”

  “Fine. Just get on your way!” Mrs. Foley answered. “Sandra just keep your distance. She’s a little devil.”

  Carnikko thought, You have no idea what kind of devil I am when I wanna be. And Sandra better keep her distance or she’ll wish she had.

  Just before they reached the school, Carnikko stood and waited for Sandra to catch up with her. “Sandra, I’m not going to tell the class my whole name. I’m gonna call myself Nikko. If you dare say my whole name, I’ll bust you one,” she said, as she balled her fist and shook it in Sandra’s face.

  “I don’t care what you call yourself. I’m not gonna call you by any name. I’m gonna pretend that I don’t know you. So don’t worry about it! I hate you!” With that, Sandra ran the rest of the way and hurried into the school as if she wanted to make sure nobody knew she had walked to school with Carnikko.

  Carnikko smiled. I reckon I showed that little jackass jerk!

  When the teacher announced there was a new student, she looked down at a piece of paper and Carnikko knew she had her name in front of her. She swallowed, hard. Then the teacher said, “Would you like to introduce yourself?” looking at Carnikko with a sweet smile.

  Carnikko stood and said, “My name is Nikko.” She quickly took her seat. The teacher didn’t contradict her. She breathed easily. She’d pulled it off. She shot a daring look at Sandra. Sandra tucked her head.

  When school was out for the day, Carnikko caught up with Sandra by the time she was on the sidewalk, headed toward home. She grabbed Sandra’s arm, swung her around, balled her fist and said, “If you tell your mama on me and I get a spanking, you just remember this—for every spanking I get, you’ll get a busting from me!”

  When they got home, Carnikko kept glaring at Sandra, daring her. Sandra didn’t say a word. Daddy taught me good. All I gotta do is stand up for myself and bust ꞌem one if they keep pushinꞌ me around, she thought. I just hope Mama ain’t mad at me for actinꞌ like Daddy

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Time passed slowly at the Foley’s. Every night, Carnikko prayed that Aunt Lou would get well and come for her. The only good thing was, she was known as Nikko at school. She really liked that name. She planned on using it for the rest of her life when she met people who didn’t know her whole name.

  Mrs. Foley was an avid reader and every night she retired to her bedroom while Mr. Foley played with their daughters, romping on the floor, tickling them in the ribs and making silly faces.

  As Carnikko watched them play, she wondered if she would ever get to play with Daddy again. Would he ever again make her laugh, dance with her, and tell silly stories that he swore were the truth? Would he ever hold her in his arms while she twirled his chest hair?

  Suddenly, Carnikko gasped several times and found herself struggling to breathe. Seeing her distress, Mr. Foley came quickly to her side, asking, “What’s wrong, honey?”

  Unable to respond, Carnikko could only gasp, sure she was about to die on the spot.

  Mr. Foley ran into the kitchen and then hurried back to Carnikko, carrying a small paper sack. He wadded the top of the sack then placed the opening of the sack over Carnikko’s mouth and nose, saying, “Just breathe deep through your nose and blow out through your mouth, nice and easy.”

  Sandra turned and ran toward the bedroom, yelling, “Mama!”

  Mrs. Foley soon came hurrying into the living room, saying, “What’s going on out here?”

  Mr. Foley looked at his wife and said, “Carnikko’s hyperventilating. Something got her upset.”

  Mrs. Foley waved at Carnikko dismissively and said, “Oh, she’s always upset about something. She’s just looking for attention! Just get her to bed. She’ll be fine.”

  Mrs. Foley turned and walked back down the hallway, followed by her daughters.

  When the others were gone, Mr. Foley sighed and said, “I think you’re better, honey. You seem to be breathing okay now. That’s good. You go get your nightgown on and I’ll come tuck you in.”

  She went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, took her gown from the hook on the bathroom door and dressed for bed, wondering what hyperventilate was, wondering if it were a terrible disease. When she came out of the bathroom, she saw Mr. Foley standing in her bedroom doorway.

  Just as she was about to enter the room he scooped her into his arms. As he walked toward the bed, his hand slid under her thin nightgown and roamed up and down her back. Then his hand went around to her front.

  Carnikko’s breath caught in her throat.

  Mr. Foley gently placed her in bed, then he bent down and kissed her cheek. His hand hadn’t touched any of her private parts, but having his hand under her nightgown had given her the creeps. She didn’t think he had done anything nasty, but she wasn’t quite sure. Finally, she decided she was being silly. He had only wanted to rub her body so she’d calm down. After all, Mama used to rub her tummy after she’d had a nightmare.

  When Sandra and Amy came into the room, Sandra crawled into bed, and Carnikko scooted to the edge so Sandra wouldn’t touch her. Amy crawled into the twin bed on the other side of the nightstand. Mr. Foley then kissed their cheeks and told them goodnight before turning out the light and leaving.

  Carnikko lay in bed, telling herself that she had to be one tough sumbuck and hang on until Aunt Lou came to get her. She wondered how long it took to get over a nervous breakdown. She clasped her hands together in the darkness and prayed that it wouldn’t be long.

  Carnikko began to join in the fun each night after Mrs. Foley had retired to her bedroom to read. She found that she could pin Mr. Foley’s shoulders to the floor and then raise her hands like a champion wrestler.

  On Fridays, Mrs. Foley stayed in the living room and gave her girls a piggyback ride. One Friday night, Amy was riding on Mrs. Foley’s back as Mr. Foley wrestled with Carnikko.

  Just as Carnikko was ready to pin Mr. Foley’s shoulders to the floor and declare victory, Mrs. Foley looked over and yelled, “Carnikko, get off him! Shame on you! You go to bed, right now!”

  Although she was confused, Carnikko hurried to the bedroom, where she sat on the side of the bed, wondering what she’d done wrong. From the living room, she heard Mrs. Foley angrily telling Mr. Foley that he was going to sleep on the sofa that night and the girls were going to sleep with her. Carnikko creased her brow. Maybe Mrs. Foley is jealous because Mr. Foley was playing with me more than he was Sandra and Amy, she thought. It was the only thing that made sense.

  After awhile, Carnikko undressed, then opened a dresser drawer, took out a clean nightgown, slipped it on, and climbed into bed. She reached up and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. Just as she was about to doze off, she heard the bedroom door open slightly. She flipped onto her back as she heard somebody tiptoeing across the bedroom floor.

  “Carnikko,” Mr. Foley whispered, “I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Carnikko whispered in response.

  Mr. Foley slid into bed and pulled her close. Then he put his arm across her middle, hugged her, and said, “Don’t pay any attention to Mrs. Foley. She’s jealous of anybody I look at or who looks at me. She’s silly that way.”

  “Okay,” Carnikko mumbled, her heart racing and her mouth as dry as a cotton ball.

  She tried to ease away from his embrace, but his hand slid under her nightgown and he began to rub her stomach. Although she was again confused, Carnikko relaxed, thinking he was trying to calm her, like Mama used to do—until he his hand slid down the top of her panties. Her body jerked, she squirmed out of his embrace, scrambled to the other side of the bed, jumped out and stood on the floor, trembling.

  Part of her wanted to scream, but she was scared of what would happen if she did. What if Mrs. Foley came running in
to the bedroom and found Mr. Foley in her bed? Mrs. Foley might beat her. She might even kill her!

  Mr. Foley got out of bed and hurried from the room.

  Carnikko ran across the floor, shut the door, quickly pulled a straight-back chair that was by the dresser, and shoved the back under the doorknob as she had seen Mama do when the front door swelled in the summer time and it wouldn’t shut. She eased back to bed, her body tense, her ears keen, and her heart beating against her eardrums.

  She didn’t think she had gone to sleep but she started when she heard Sandra yell, “Open this door and let me in, stupid.”

  Carnikko jumped out of bed, hurried across the floor, removed the chair, and opened the door. Mrs. Foley was standing beside Sandra, her eyes blazing. “I guess you think you can lock Sandra out of her own room. Don’t ever do that again!” she said, and shoved Carnikko as she walked past her.

  Mrs. Foley walked into the closet, took out two sweaters, and said, “Here, Sandra, put this on. Daddy is going to take you and Amy for ice cream. Take this one to Amy.”

  Carnikko sat on the bedside, her stomach tying in knots, and she couldn’t hold back her tears.

  Mrs. Foley pointed toward Carnikko, and yelled, “Get off the bed and make it up. Then go in the kitchen and do the dishes.” Her mouth was set in a firm line, reminding Carnikko of the evil stepmother in the Cinderella book. Carnikko had the urge to throw the pillows at Mrs. Foley as she watched her walk out of the room.

  After Mrs. Foley was out of sight, Carnikko wiped her eyes and nose on the bedspread. Then she put on the clothes she’d taken off the night before, and looked under the bed for her shoes. The shoes weren’t there. She walked to the closet, picked them up, and slipped them on.

  Then she looked up at the rack of clothes on Sandra’s end of the closet and saw another sweater with the price tag still hanging on it.

  She pulled it from the hanger and examined it carefully. It was light blue with different colored flowers embroidered on the breast pocket, and it had pearl buttons down the front. She looked at the price tag. “Jeepers Creepers! A whole five dollars! Mama coulda bought a week’s worth of groceries for five dollars,” she whispered.

  She stood for a few minutes caressing the soft sweater. She ran her hand down the pearl buttons and massaged each of them between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m gonna rip it to shreds, stomp it, then set fire to it. Sandra doesn’t deserve such a pretty sweater,” she mumbled.

  Mrs. Foley yelled from the living room, “Carnikko, I’m going to a neighbor’s house. You clean the kitchen and do all the dishes before I get back.”

  When Carnikko heard the front door close, she slipped her arms into the sweater, then admired herself in the vanity mirror. The sweater looked beautiful on her. It was too pretty to rip up and set fire to. She didn’t want to take it off, so she walked outside, sat on the stoop, gazed up at the sky, wondering if she might see Purple Angel flying from Heaven, coming to her rescue.

  Purple Angel wasn’t in sight.

  It was also nippy outside, but the cool breeze felt good on her face, which was hot from rage. She crossed her arms, hugged the sweater close to her body, and gazed at the beautiful colored leaves. Fall was still her favorite time of year and she thought how wonderful it would be if she could bury her brothers in a big pile of leaves again.

  She dropped her head into her lap, tears ran down her face, and she prayed, “God, since Aunt Lou forgot me, would ya please send Daddy to me? And if it ain’t askin' too much, would ya let me see Don and Lee? I miss 'em so much. Amen.”

  She heard a car door slam, but she didn’t look up. She never wanted to see Mr. Foley again. Even when she heard another door slam, she still didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see Sandra either, and she’d be bound to tell her mama that Carnikko had stolen her brand new sweater.

  “Hey, Punkin. Come here and give yer ol’ man a big hug.”

  Carnikko jerked her head up. Her heart did a tap dance in her chest as she leaped from the stoop, almost fell down the steps, regained her balance, and ran to Daddy’s arms.

  Daddy grabbed her, swung her in the air and kissed her cheek. “How’s Daddy’s lil’ punkin?” he asked, holding her in the bend of his strong arm.

  Was she dreaming? Was Daddy really holding her like he used to, back before Mama died, back before he took up with the stinking harlot, back when life was worth living?

  The smell of Daddy told her that she wasn’t dreaming. “I’m okay now that yer here.” She hugged his neck, and her stomach did flip-flops as she peered over his shoulder.

  “Oh!—oh!” she said, squirming from Daddy’s arms.

  Don and Lee were standing behind Daddy, smiling, their arms outstretched.

  Carnikko ran to them, grabbed them around the neck at the same time, hugged, cried, and felt as if she were about to pee her panties. “God sure answered my prayer, fast! Hallelujah!” she said, hugging them again.

  Daddy patted Carnikko’s head. “Do you wanna go with us?” he asked, his eyes dancing as if he were up to no-good, as Mama used to say.

  “You wanna take me somewhere?” she asked, her voice raising two octaves.

  “If ya wanna go,” he said.

  “How did ya know where to find me?”

  “I can find my kids any day,” Daddy answered as if he were a detective and had a bloodhound’s nose for sniffing out the whereabouts of his children.

  Carnikko grabbed his hand. “Come on, Daddy, we hafta get away before the Foley’s get back. Come on, Don, Lee, we gotta hurry!”

  They ran to the car, climbed inside, huddled together in the back seat, and they all started talking at the same time.

  Daddy slid under the steering wheel, looked in the rearview mirror, smiled, and pulled the car into low gear. “We’re off!” he yelled. Then he was speeding down the streets, careening around corners as if he were a race car driver. “Let’s see if any of them gawddang fools can figure out I kidnapped my own kids!” He threw his head back and laughed a hard belly laugh.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Carnikko looked at Don. “Does Grandma and Grandpa know you and Lee are with Daddy?”

  “Nope, Daddy found me and Lee in the yard like he did you, and we just took off,” Don said, a look of admiration in his eyes.

  Lee mumbled, “I hope Grandma don’t cry when she’s finds out we’re gone.” Then he looked at his brother and sister as if he were waiting for them to laugh and call him a tittybaby.

  Carnikko giggled and said, “Well, I for one don’t care. All I know is that we’re all together again. This is what I’ve been prayin' for all along, and now it’s all comin' true!”

  As they crossed the Kentucky-Indiana state line, Daddy looked over his right shoulder and yelled happily, “We’re in Indiana, kids!”

  Two hours passed, making Carnikko think that Indianapolis must be a million miles from Bon Harbor. Finally, Daddy stopped to let the children use the restroom while he bought gas.

  When the kids returned to the car, their eyes widened as Daddy handed them a bag of potato chips, a bag of chocolate chip cookies and Cokes. Don and Lee took huge swigs of Coke, then burped, which sent them into fits of laughter. Carnikko didn’t tell her brothers that she’d had Coke when she was in the hospital. She wanted them to think it was her first, too.

  It was dark by the time they reached Indianapolis, but the city was bright with lights and there were still lots of people on the streets. Carnikko climbed over the seat to sit up front with Daddy.

  “Boy, this is a big place!” she said in awe. “I ain’t never seen so many people!”

  “Yeah, it’s big alright, Punkin.”

  As they turned and headed east, the view began to change. Carnikko saw litter, broken bottles, and beer cans scattered everywhere, and people were sitting on curbs or sprawled out on the sidewalk.

  “Daddy, why are those people layin' on the sidewalks? Are they dead?”

  “No, Punkin. They’re bums, passed out dru
nk. You see a lot of that in this part of town—but you’ll get used to it.” He patted Carnikko’s head and added, “There’s a lot of things you kids will hafta get used to. This place ain’t nothinꞌ like Bon Harbor, but there ain’t no way I’ll ever go back to that one-horse town.”

  Carnikko creased her brow. She didn’t see any horses. She didn’t remember seeing a horse in Bon Harbor, either. What’s Daddy talkinꞌ about , she wondered, then dismissed it. Daddy was always saying silly things.

  They turned onto a red brick street. Large buildings loomed on both sides of the street and they were so close together that Carnikko wondered if a person could walk between them.

  “Those are the biggest houses I ever seen. Do you live in a house that big?”

  “Those ain’t houses, Punkin. They’re called apartment buildings, and each one of ꞌem has eight apartments inside.”

  “Apartments? What’s that?”

  “You’ll see what I’m talkin' about when we get to ours,” Daddy said, pulling the car to the curb. “We’re here.”

  The children got out and turned in circles as they drank in their new surroundings. Some of the huge buildings were in bad need of paint, while others looked like they were ready to fall down altogether.

  “We live on the second floor,” Daddy said, taking Carnikko’s hand. “We hafta walk down the alley and use the side steps. Follow us, boys.”

  As they climbed the stairs and entered a dimly lit hallway, Daddy said, “Be careful not to fall over anything—just stay close to me.”

  The hallway was dark and spooky, Carnikko held Daddy’s hand tightly. Finally, they came to a door where Daddy knocked lightly as all three children huddled close beside him.

  Carnikko’s body shivered. Somebody stepped on my grave, she thought and she was sure there was something evil about this place.

  Ellie opened the door, and said, “It’s about time—” She stopped in mid-sentence when she saw the children. “What the hell is this?”

  Daddy pushed past Ellie and entered a small kitchen, followed by the children.

 

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