Chapter 12
Friday went by slowly more slowly than I could ever remember. As a matter of a fact, it was torture to me to have to return to being a boy again. To have to abandon the feeling of rightness that I had felt last night was almost more than I could stand. I almost broke out into tears on several occasions over the silliest things, however I managed to hang on. You see boys don't cry or show emotion at any time and if they did, it was because they were queer. Sally and the rest of the girls wouldn't let me alone long enough for me to fall apart. So the day wasn't that bad, but I did notice that Jeff the jerk was looking at me a lot and seemed to want to start something.
After school I decided to go into town and ask some of the storeowners if they needed any help, but was unsuccessful, they all said they had plenty of help. So I started out of town to the house. I had worn my old tennis shoes instead of the new shoes I had been given last night. I had my backpack on and started to run and was about half way home running on the side of the road when I heard a car coming up behind me and then I felt something hit me in the back and it knocked me down into the ditch.
I guess that I got knocked out because when I came to and looked up there were the two thugs that I had run off from the farm standing over me in the ditch. The big one had a baseball bat and the little one had a tire iron and they started hitting me with them. I took a terrible beating and passed out. When I woke up the next time, I was at home in bed with Doc Clifford standing over me. I had bandages on my head and one of my arms.
“Glad to see you back with us.” he said. “I wasn't sure that you were going to be with us for long.” and he had a big needle in his hand.
“Damn. Is that all you do, give defenseless kids shots?” I mumbled and passed out again.
I spent the night dreaming and having nightmares about being beaten over and over by guys that called me faggot. I was dressed in a slip and a pair of panties and even though I kept telling them, I had an accident they just jeered at me and kept beating me. Then my Dad would come into the dream telling them to hit me again saying, “Hit him again maybe that will beat the girl out of him.” Then a mouse would appear and scare them away.
I woke up the next day to see Uncle Will standing over me talking to the Sheriff. “I'm telling you if you don't catch those two I will and when I do it's going to be bad for them.” he said.
“Now Will don't do anything you will regret. I have been trying to catch them but they are pretty slippery. The next county over chased them, but lost them by the interstate. We are going to get them and when we do they are going away for a long time.” said the Sheriff.
They both saw that I had my eyes open and the Sheriff asked. “Dennis do you remember what happened to you yesterday?”
I told him what I could remember and asked, “How did I get here?”
Uncle Will answered, “Will and George were going into town to the football game and found them beating you and by the time they got stopped and turned around the two of them took off. Will put you in the truck and brought you home.” I could tell that he was mad. Madder than I had ever seen him.
“I'm sorry I caused so much trouble.” I mumbled.
“Don't worry about it. You didn't do anything wrong. My guess is that if Will and George hadn't come along when they did those two would have killed you.” said Uncle Will.
“What did they beat me so bad for? All I was doing was running along the side of the highway.” I said. Then it all came flooding back to me the way they were standing there and the big one said that he didn't like being shot at and that I was going to pay for shooting his car. Then he hit me with the bat in the stomach and the other one hit me in the head with the tire iron and I blacked out again. I started to cry then from the memory of the pain. I wanted revenge and I wanted the beatings to stop. I spent the weekend in the bed crying on and off. Smokey wouldn't leave my side and if anybody came in, he would stand up and growl at them. I didn't get to go to school on Monday but Tuesday I was able to go. I took the bandages off and saw where they had broken the skin and left huge bruises on me. My face was black and blue but fortunately, I didn't have any broken bones. That was lucky on my part.
When I got off the bus, Sally met me and started crying when she saw me. “Diane, what happened to you?” she sobbed.
I took her hand and tried to calm her but it was no use. Mrs. Johnson came over and pulled her away from me and wanted to know what I had done to her. Before I could answer, she pulled Sally away and took her into the building and the rest of the kids just stared at me. I turned and ran away, I didn't know where I was going but I knew I had to leave. I managed to get all the way out of town and was headed back to the house. I was so frightened that I was in trouble that I didn't stop to think things through. My bad luck was back.
I made it back to the house when I heard the sound of a car coming. A six cylinder with a straight pipe on it. I ran up to the house and got inside when they turned into the driveway. Smokey must have been out hunting because he didn't start barking like always. I got the shotgun out and loaded it with buckshot again. This time they weren't getting away. They pulled around back like they did the last time and got out but instead of hesitating, they came right up to the back door and started trying to break in. I waited until they kicked the door in and came into the house. Then I stepped out of the hallway and lowered the shotgun and pulled the trigger. The big one was in my sights and the blast sent a huge red spray all over the little one and he was knocked down by the big one. The little one pulled out a silver pistol and before he could shoot, I racked another shell in the chamber and pulled the trigger again both of them lay still on the back porch in a growing pool of blood.
I wanted to shoot again and again but I didn't. They weren't going to hurt me again. Smokey came running into the house and stood by me and wouldn't leave. I don't know how long I had stood there with the shotgun pointed at them when Uncle Will came up. He walked around them and stood beside me and said, “Dennis, give me the gun.” I didn't move, I kept it pointed at them until he reached over and took the gun from me gently and pulled me to him. He pushed me into the living room and made me sit down on the couch. I heard him talking to the Sheriff and realized that he was on the phone. Then I stood up and walked back to my room and laid on the bed, Smokey came with me and laid down by me.
A little later, the Sheriff came into the room and found me laying on the bed staring at the ceiling. “Dennis, do you feel like talking?” and he sat on the bed next to me. Smokey growled at him and I petted him and got him calmed down.
I sat up on the bed and looked at the Sheriff. “I had to leave school and when I got home I heard them coming up the road. I loaded the shotgun and hid. The big one kicked the back door in and when he did, I stepped around the door and he was there. I shot him and the other one pulled out a pistol and I shot him too. I guess that I am going to prison. Right?”
“No son, this is a clear cut case of self-defense. You will have to answer some more questions, but you aren't going to jail.” replied the Sheriff. “Listen killing a man is a terrible thing and I want you to know that I don't see that you had a choice. So lay back down and get some rest. I don't want you coming to the back door while we take care of things.” and he got up and walked out with a sad look on his face.
I was wondering where my Mom was, I really needed to be reassured and told that she loved me. I could hear her talking to the Sheriff but she hadn't come to check on me. Was I so horrible that she couldn't even come see about me? What could make a mother turn her back on her own flesh and blood like she had? I didn't know, but I knew that I was moving back into the barn no matter what, at least there I wouldn't have to see the looks that she gave me when she didn't think I was looking.
Later that afternoon I got my stuff and walked out to the barn and climbed the ladder to the loft. When I got there, I put my things in the little room that I made and sat down. They had cleaned up the blood and removed the bodies. A wrecker had come a
nd towed the car away. I heard the Sheriff talking to the wrecker driver about finding a bunch of stuff that had been stolen last night and now he was going to have to find out where it went. They also made the comment that the two of them had been drinking heavily because of all the beer cans in the car. I still didn't know their names though. Mom wasn't there, nobody was there when I went to the barn.
I was sitting on a hay bale thinking about the day’s events and I started hearing a low growling voice. “Murderer, Killer, you don't deserve to live, that’s what they are all saying about you. Why don't you just die and come with me? I won't let you suffer anymore. All you have to do is tie a rope around your neck and jump and it will be all over. Just think no more beatings no more being hated because you are a queer, a faggot, a weak little piece of shit. Go on, here is the rope, do it.” And I looked and saw a roll of baling twine laying there. I got up and tied a loop with a slipknot on it and took the other end over to the ladder and tied the other end to it and jumped. The twine loop pulled up tight around my neck and choked me until I passed out. I didn't see the mouse chewing on the twine causing it to break.
When I woke up, I was laying at the foot of the ladder still with the twine around my neck. I thought I was dead, finally free of all the pain and hatred that I had suffered, but wait I was still lying in manure and a mouse was standing on my nose and he spoke to me. “Diane that was a stupid thing to do. Don't ever do it again. I won't let you. Now get up and go lay down and sleep. When you awake you will feel better.” so I got up and climbed the ladder and laid down and slept and for the first time in a while, I didn't have any nightmares.
Being Diane Page 12
