“OUT!” Martin Pernickle shouted, bits of food flying from his mouth across the table ahead of his sweeping gaze.
Shelly didn’t have to be told twice, her chair hit the floor with a bang as she scampered from the table and down the hall, our bedroom door slamming shut behind her. I jerked once, trying to free my arm to no avail, my eyes still holding Martin Pernickle’s evil stare. The bones in my wrist felt as it they would snap at any moment, but I didn’t cry out from the pain. That’s exactly what he wanted.
“Didn’t you hear me boy? I said get out!” Martin Pernickle warned Roman now, his other fist slamming on the table in anger.
“Roman please…” I tried, but my voice was too shaky to continue.
There she was, the scared little girl that I’d been for the last five years, threatening to break through the newly birthed version of me. I felt the tears coming, and I swallowed hard, my eyes shifting to Roman’s worried face for a moment. If a look could have said it all, then Martin Pernickle would have known that Roman would kill him before he let anything happen to me. I almost smiled as I caught the hardened expression Roman now wore, his own fork gripped between his slim fingers, ready to use in my defense. His voice was steady, and my gaze shifted back to Martin Pernickle as the words sunk in.
“I’m not leaving…”
Simply put, but epic to watch as the soft spoken statement settled between the four of us. For once, Jo Pernickle had nothing to say, her words caught somewhere, no doubt, in the choking gasp she exhaled on. My fingers flexed as Martin Pernickle’s grip lessened on my wrist, a smirk now etched in the aging lines of his face as his gaze finally fell from mine. It was a small victory, and one I would probably never see again, but I rejoiced inside, the new me taking root as I shot a daring look at Jo Pernickle.
Her dull brown eyes immediately fell to her plate, her matching mousy brown hair covering most of her face as she refused to look at me. I wanted to think that my newly shown streak of defiance had caused the sudden turn around with the Pernickles, but something just wasn’t right. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the head shake from Martin Pernickle, and the nervous look he gave his wife when her mouth opened and then closed. There was a reason that the next world war hadn’t just broken out in the kitchen, and my eyes narrowed in suspicion now, my gaze sweeping around the room for a clue.
“That’s mine,” I stated bluntly, not bothering to point out the out of place Louis Vuitton luggage set that sat in the corner by the back door.
There was nothing luxurious about this old farmhouse, and I doubted Jo Pernickle even knew how to pronounce the name the designer the bags were named after. They’d been a gift from my parents for my thirteenth birthday, something I would have used on my trip to the Hampton’s, but I’d never gotten to go. A mother, daughter retreat is what they’d called it, my mom’s way of spending a few more precious moments with her little girl. I hadn’t seen the luggage since the day I moved in, and had assumed that they’d sold it off at the local pawn shop, but there they were, stacked according to size in a neat little row.
I suddenly understood now why Martin Pernickle had backed down so suddenly. They were putting me out! And there was no way they would send me anywhere with bruises all over me. My relief was short lived as my eyes fell on Roman’s, his face confused now as he looked from me to the bags.
“I’m…borrowing them,” Jo Pernickle finally answered, her explanation less than forthcoming.
“Wait…so I’m not…leaving then…?” I managed, disappointment shooting through me, despite the shift in Roman’s expression.
“You have three more months until you’re eighteen honey, and by then we’ll be…”
“Jo,” Martin Pernickle’s tone cut her sarcasm short, her eyes rolling as she jumped up from the table, leaving her unfinished plate of food.
“I’m going to finish packing,” She retorted, her bony hips bumping the high chair that still sat in the middle of the floor.
Her stomps were enough to shake the table, and I moved to rescue a sleeping Ranger from the now rocking high chair, before it could tip over with him in it. No one spoke as I busied myself with fixing him a bottle, his wails only quieting once I’d cradled him in my arms and began the pace back and forth in front of the sink. He was dirty, and in need of a bath, but my mind was more focused on the Pernickle’s impending trip.
“We’ve got some business to take care of …out of town,” Martin Pernickle chose his words carefully, his hand rising as my mouth opened to protest.
“Don’t think you got away with anything here tonight. Only because we’re leaving in the next hour or so am I’m letting it go for now. You will get just what I promised if you don’t do as I say while we’re gone. The state checks your school attendance, so that’s where you’ll be. Alana, you know the rules, and you will take care of this house. I want the kids on their chores, and I want my dogs fed. I got a big hunt coming up when I get back,” Martin Pernickle explained, already rising from his chair. “We won’t be gone more than a week, and this…” He paused, pointing at the luggage in the corner. “…Stays between us.”
“Or…what…? What’s to stop us from walking out that door right behind you?” Roman asked, rising as well so that he was almost eye level with Martin Pernickle.
I felt the testosterone flowing between the two of them, and I knew that we’d pushed the boundaries enough for one night. I’d always thought there was evil in Martin Pernickle’s dark eyes, and I didn’t like the way they now fell to the discarded steak knife as he answered slowly.
“If you value your life, you won’t run.”
Straight and to the point. My hand on Roman’s arm wasn’t needed, he knew when to let something go, and this was one of those times. I followed him out of the kitchen and down the hall, not daring to look back at the man whose eyes were still on my back. We were only a paycheck to him, and I knew he meant what he’d said. I wanted to reach out and touch Roman’s silky brown locks as he tossed one last look over his shoulder at me, but I didn’t. He disappeared into his room, and I went into mine, closing the door behind me.
I didn’t know how they expected to me to go to school, and take care of the baby. Martin Pernickle hadn’t said. During the day Jo worked, and I knew there was a babysitter, but how would I contact her? Would she expect payment, or had they handled that already? The questions tumbled around in my head, but there was no making sense of it. The Pernickle’s had never taken a trip before, and I certainly never expected them to leave us here on our own. I knew without looking that there wasn’t much food in the refrigerator, not that they ever fed us much anyway. Something just wasn’t right; I felt it in my gut.
“Mom, Dad… I need you. I don’t know what to do…” I whispered out loud, settling myself on the cot opposite the sleeping twins.
Ranger jumped as I laid him on top of me, my arms curling over his tiny body to keep him from rolling off. I couldn’t feel their presence here, like I did in the graveyard, but I hoped…especially after today… I listened for something, anything that would qualify as a sign from either of them, but the only sounds that reached me was Jo Pernickle’s hushed whispers. They were arguing about something, but I only caught pieces of the conversation.
“She can’t know…”
“I wasn’t going…”
“You need to keep it together…”
“If it doesn’t happen now, then we’re…”
Their voices faded as they moved from their bedroom and back into the kitchen. I heard keys jingling, and then the sound of Martin Pernickle’s truck being started. I wanted to wish them dead…wish that they wrecked in the snow, or wish that they never returned, but I couldn’t… I wanted to believe that they were family to someone, and I would never want that someone to feel the hurt I lived with every day.
The noise outside had alerted the dogs, and I could hear them all barking at once now, the sound even more ferocious than usual. I’d never known anyone to hunt with pit bulls
, but Martin did, starving them for days before a hunt so that they were blood thirsty. Why he’d instructed me to feed them now was beyond me. He knew I never even went into the backyard, much less near the kennel, and with them barking like that, I wouldn’t start now. I listened for what felt like another hour, before I finally heard the back door slam shut, the truck pulling slowly out of the yard shortly after that.
Roman must have been listening too because I heard his door creak open almost immediately, a silent pause, and then the unmistakable whine of the floorboards as he tipped from his room into mine. I smiled to myself as his eyes fell on my cot first, his face alarmed until he spotted the twins tangled together in a mass under my pillow and sheet. The baby didn’t wake this time when I moved him, laying him on the cot before rising to a stand.
“I didn’t see you over there,” Roman commented, his gaze moving back to the twins.
“They were sleep, I didn’t want to move them,” I explained, motioning to my cot.
“So…tonight…”
“Was…”
“Crazy…?”
“Unexpected…?” I offered at the same time he did, shaking my head at the events of the last two hours.
“Something’s not right,” Roman shook his head too, his silky brown locks dancing across his dark brown eyes as he looked at me again.
“I was thinking the same thing, but what? How am I supposed to take care of the kids? How am I supposed to go to school? There is no food…” I whispered now, the frustration of it all causing tears to gather at the corner of my eyes. “I just want out,” I breathed, my shoulders sagging now as Roman reached for me.
It wasn’t the first time that he consoled me, but it was usually an awkward pat on the back, or a tug on my hair. I couldn’t stop the tears when he pulled me to him gently, his hand cradling my head against his chest as if I were a baby myself. His heart seemed to be thumping a million miles a minute, but he didn’t seem scared. His solid frame more than held my drooping one, rocking me from side to side for a minute before he pecked the top of my head awkwardly with a kiss.
“You shouldn’t have said that tonight you know?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips as I shot a look of disbelief up at him.
I saw in his eyes that he was only kidding, and was actually proud of me for finally standing up to them.
“I just wish it had been me… Sooner than this…” he added, his head ducking now so that his hair hid his eyes from my view.
I wanted, as I’d wanted so many times before, to push it out of his face so that I could fully see his features, but I didn’t move. I knew that his brow had probably knitted together, his expression etched into that boyish scowl of his. His lips, I could plainly see, pressed together over straight even teeth in disappointment.
“You stood up for me; you stayed…” I whispered, releasing the hold I had on his waist as he took a step back.
“You didn’t think I would let him hurt you did you?” Roman asked, his eyes showing the hurt he felt as he took in my words.
He immediately thought that I’d doubted him, when that had never been the case.
“No… I know we don’t talk much, but…” I blushed now, my words halting as I scrambled for something that was less sappy than I love you.
“You knew…”
“Yeah…I knew you wouldn’t,” I agreed, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.
“So what do we do now?” Roman asked, breaking the moment that had swelled into unfamiliar territory between us.
I shrugged in response, following him as he stepped back out into the hallway.
“We could always search their room,” he suggested, a mischievous smile touching his lips as he started towards the door at the end.
“Have you ever been in there? They would know! We can’t!” I protested, grabbing his arm as he turned the knob, a soft click sounding from within. “It’s probably booby trapped or something…”
“Alana…really? They aren’t that smart,” Roman shook his head, digging in his pockets now. “I need something…sharp…”
I didn’t want to go in their room. They had warned us before leaving, and I wasn’t taking that warning lightly. I couldn’t help but look behind me towards the kitchen, almost expecting them to walk back through the door at any moment. The thought of Jo Pernickle flossing around with my Louis Vuitton luggage was enough to change my mind.
“Will this work?” I asked, tapping the safety pin that was holding my ripped belt loop in place on my jeans.
“Perfect!” he whispered, smiling as I unhooked and handed him the pin.
I wanted to ask if he had even done this before…broken into someone’s room or house, but instead I pressed my lips tightly together, holding back the protest that threatened to spill free as the lock clicked again. The knob turned smoothly this time, and I shook my head as Roman gave me a look over his shoulder before pushing the door all the way open. Since moving here, I’d only caught a glimpse of the Pernickle’s bedroom, and it was always the same: stained brown carpeting, the edge of a king size bed, and an old mirror that hung just above it. I didn’t realize that my eyes were shut until I heard Roman’s voice call to me.
“You coming…?”
I jumped forward, my eyes going to my own bedroom door, before taking a step into the Pernickle’s bedroom. If Shelly were to wake up now, she would surely spill the beans that we’d broken in. The thought was lost as I surveyed my surroundings, my nose turning upward as my gaze met Roman’s. It was a mess, just like the rest of the house. Dirty clothes, trash, and dishes covered every available surface, including the top of the small television they had sitting on a dresser against the wall. My skin crawled at the thought of touching anything in here, judging from the foul odor that something had to be growing in the carpet.
“Where in the world do we start?” I wondered out loud, tip toeing around an overturned plate of molding food that was stuck to the floor.
“These all look like bills, letters, and…check stubs,” Roman offered, pulling a stack of papers from a cardboard box that sat on the nightstand.
“I’ll start there…why don’t you keep looking…?” I suggested, holding out my hand for the cleanest thing in the room.
“Look for anything dated close to today’s date…A ticket, a hotel reservation…anything…”
“Well be careful; we don’t want them to know we’ve been snooping,” I warned, just as Roman tripped over a picture frame that was lying in the middle of the floor.
“Is it…?”
“It’s not broken,” he sighed, picking up the wooden frame and turning it over. “Home Sweet Home,” he read from the top of the apple drawing, holding it up so that I could see.
“More like home, NOT so sweet home,” I commented, shaking my head as he placed it carefully back where it had been on the floor.
“Just keep looking, there’s bound to be something somewhere in here… We just have to find it.”
END SAMPLE
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