“Cool!” she enthused. Wuan Cho was way better than a slumber party. The bell rang and she raced to science class. She forgot to slump.
THE NEXT EVENING, Beth tried on clothes for hours before she was satisfied. She settled on lots of red. It was a happy color. Her shoes were flat—of course—Wuan was at least seven inches shorter than she was, even though he was two years older. Her mini skirt was frilled and covered in red polka dots, and she wore a red top. A white with red polka dot headband pulled her long blonde hair off her face. She studied her face, and then opened her bedroom door and peeked out. Mom and Dad were in their room. She shut the door and rooted around beneath her bed and tugged a box out. Makeup.
Not very much, just some mascara and lip gloss, the strawberry kind. The finishing touch was a little silver necklace with a red gem that rested against her throat. Dad had given it to her in India. The red gem was a real ruby. Mom didn’t like it, but Beth liked everything Dad gave her. Standing in the hallway she listened. It sounded like Dad was talking really low. She raced to the front door and sneaked out. Mom didn’t follow.
WUAN WAS THERE waiting, sitting on a dryer and smoking a cigarette. Ew, thought Beth. He jumped off when he saw her, and offered it to her. She shook her head. Yes, it was gross, but he was being polite and he was still cute. Wuan had on jeans and a black tank top. He had lean muscles, and his hair was too long, his eyes a little bit slanted and very dark. He was so pretty Beth tripped in homage, and nervously smoothed her skirt. She had 100,000 rupiah in birthday money in her purse, and she was going to offer to pay for the cinema. Going to the cinema with Wuan was way cooler than a slumber party. Plus if she ever did get invited to one, they could talk about the time she went to the movies with Wuan Cho.
She swallowed and smiled, feeling extra shy. “Do you like to go to the movies?”
“I like you.” He walked so gracefully. He could probably dance. She wondered if he watched MTV. She just bet he did. Maybe they could go to his apartment and watch MTV. Dad would never know. Unless he asked me. She frowned at that thought. She’d have to tell Dad the truth if he asked her. Maybe they’d just better go to the cinema.
Wuan took her hand and tugged her towards the storage lockers. They were big and wooden and people kept sports equipment and bikes locked inside them. Dad couldn’t find bikes big enough for them in Indonesia, so their locker sat empty. Wuan’s fingers felt strong as he pulled her along. He was solid like Mom, like he ran all the time, and he held her hand with all his fingers interwoven through all of hers. Boyfriends held girlfriends hands like this! Dad was right, not everyone cared if she was tall. Wuan obviously didn’t care.
“You have pretty hair, Beth.”
“Th-thank you!” she stuttered and her heart skipped beats. “So do you.” He laughed and stopped in the shadows of the big lockers. Beth tugged the string of her purse so that it fell properly and told him, “I thought maybe you’d want to go to the movies with me?”
“I want to kiss you,” he whispered. Beth felt a funny twist in her belly. It wasn’t a good twist.
“I don’t think I’m allowed,” she warned.
“Don’t tell,” he whispered, leaning very close.
“Oh, I don’t lie—I don’t think that I could even if—”
Wuan interrupted, pressing his mouth right against hers. The back of her head knocked against the door of a locker. It hurt. His mouth pressed hard and one of her teeth cut into the inside of her lip. She put her hands against his chest and pushed. Wuan grabbed her hands and slammed them against the locker really hard, holding them there. It hurt, a lot.
“Stop it!” Beth mumbled against his lips and tried to twist away. She was taller, but Wuan was really strong. He leaned against her, pressing his chest against hers, and shoving one of his legs between hers. He pushed her legs further apart and pushed his leg up against her where it shouldn’t be.
Panic surged through her. Somewhere in the back of her head she thought she heard something, faint panicked voices shouting. And then Beth fought. It happened so fast, she didn’t see exactly what happened. She kicked and bit. Wuan hit her back, again and again, then grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wooden door harder, trying to hold her in place. She screamed and shouted and he tried to cover her mouth and hold her still at the same time. She bit his hand and spit in his face, and finally managed to push him away. Beth kicked him once and ran.
STANDING OUTSIDE HER apartment door, Beth wiped her face and cleaned off what remained of her lip gloss with the back of her hand. She fixed her clothes and hair. She could hear the TV. Daddy liked to watch shows on Saturday nights. Taking a deep breath and moving fast, she opened the door and slammed it behind her like she always did.
“Don’t slam it, Bethy.”
“Okay.”
Beth rushed past Daddy. His eyes were mostly on the TV. Mom was doing something in the kitchen. She walked past the doorway with some boxes in her arms, but didn’t look out. Beth raced for the bathroom. She locked the door and then slid down it, shaking.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Just a minute!” she said.
“Beth?” It was Mom and her voice was a whisper. “Open the door right this instant or I will break it down.”
Unwilling, Beth obeyed. Mom always did what she said she would. Mom came in and shut the door behind her.
“Please,” Beth started to cry, “don’t tell Dad.”
“I won’t. I want you to tell me what happened.” Mom rubbed her shoulder, just once, light and gentle. Then she went to the tub and started filling it with water.
Beth didn’t want to tell. She had to if someone asked, but Mom hadn’t asked outright, and never before had Beth not wanted to tell something so much. She wanted to make it not have happened. Mom didn’t say anything else while the tub filled with water. Then she motioned towards it.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you won’t start to feel better until you do.”
Beth started tugging off her clothes, a hard task because she was trembling. Mom had to help her like when she was little, except only Dad used to help her then. She was glad it was Mom this time. Mom helped her into the tub and the water felt good, it was hot but it helped make the cold and shaking go away. And she talked. She told Mom everything. About freaky tall, and slumber parties, and the lunch table with the losers. She told her about Wuan Cho and the 100,000 rupiah birthday money, and that she’d lost it along with her beaded Hello Kitty bag that Dad had bought her even when Mom said not to.
It made her cry when she talked about Wuan kissing her, and she promised Mom that she didn’t want him to.
“Bethy, Sweetheart.” Mom never called her that. “I know you didn’t want to. Please go on, if you want.”
Beth did want to now. She told her everything, finishing with, “and he tore my shirt, and pinched me here and here, and it hurt but I was so scared, Mom. He tore the hem on my skirt trying to take my underpants off, and look, Mom, he gave me bruises and he pu-punched me.”
“I see that,” Mom said. Then she held up a fluffy towel and helped Beth dry off. She sneaked across the hall and got Beth’s favorite pajamas, the ones with MTV on the front, even though she wasn’t allowed to watch it. Then she tucked Beth into bed, just like she was a regular mom tucking in her little girl. It felt good. Beth lay on her side, and Mom patted her on the shoulder, leaning to kiss her cheek. “If you have bad dreams, remember to change the channel like Daddy taught you when you were little. Okay?”
“Okay, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, Bethy. Night.”
When Mom went into the living room she heard Daddy ask where Beth was.
“She went to bed early.”
“Is she all right?”
“Girl stuff. She’ll be fine.”
“Girl stuff!” Daddy didn’t like that idea. “I guess my girl is growing up.”
CAROLE BRIEFLY CONSIDERED giving herself time to cool off before she paid t
he teenager a visit. By the time Ted’s head hit his pillow and his deep breathing filled her ear, she knew that this anger wasn’t the kind that would dissipate with time. Every moment that passed made it more likely that she’d annihilate the kid. The strange thing was, the voices didn’t object. Even while she lay in bed planning, the voices seemed to be quietly waiting.
WUAN CHO HAD the luxury of his own bedroom, which made Carole’s mission quite easy. The kid woke gasping from the weight of all 160 pounds of toned muscle strategically positioned in the middle of his chest. She flicked on his bedside lamp. His eyes lit briefly when he saw the blonde straddling him, quickly clouding with confusion when she shoved her foot against his mouth to keep him quiet. Worried recognition flickered in his eyes, and she assumed he recognized Beth’s features in her face.
“Hello, Wuan,” Carole whispered. “I’m Beth’s mother; I see you caught the resemblance. You probably never saw me before. I’m away a lot of the time. I kill people for a living and it keeps me pretty busy!”
Wuan’s pretty face twisted as he tried to get out from under her, but he could hardly move with Carole’s weight on him. She used her foot to maneuver his head into the pillow. If he could barely breathe, she wouldn’t have to worry he’d cry out for help. Carole used the foot for leverage, lifted herself up a bit and dropped heavily against his diaphragm, resuming her position while Wuan tried desperately to breathe. Carole reclined on his narrow body with one of her soft black shoes and one hand digging into the mattress to support her leisurely pose. The other hand took a firm grip on Wuan’s man-ware, right through his briefs. She lifted her foot off his throat just enough for the kid to move his head and see her while she looked around his room. The walls were decorated with posters of popular bands, half-dressed women, and panthers.
“I like jungle cats too, they’re fast,” she murmured conversationally. “I never liked the way they play with their prey before they kill it though. I always thought if you’re going to kill, just do it. You know what I mean, Wuan? Why make it suffer first, but that was before I met you. You’ve made me rethink that philosophy.” She used her spare foot, hitting him in the eye with the heel, and keeping her balance by shifting her body weight onto his weakest link, still clutched firmly in her left hand. The scream low in his throat was barely audible with his neck bent near the breaking point.
“The thing I like about cats is that they’re so sleek and beautiful. It’s deceiving, you know. Like a sweet, soft little kitten you just want to pick up and put in your pocket. Not everyone feels that way though. There are some people who like to hurt things they think are helpless. There are some people who like to hurt kittens.” Carole leaned heavier against his nether regions, and a whispery scream gurgled in Wuan’s throat. “My favorite part about cats, though, is that looks are so deceiving. You see they’re not helpless at all! Oh, maybe when they’re tiny kittens, but then there’s always mama cat nearby to protect them.” Leaning too heavily on his boy-parts, Carole lost Wuan for a few minutes when he fainted. She revived him by shifting sides and letting him breathe a moment.
“Now where was I? Ah, yes, jungle cats—kittens—mama cat—oh, the moral of the story! That’s the best part. You see, Wuan, kittens grow up. And people say that elephants never forget—and that may be true—but if they think kittens forget, they must be one of those nice people who just scratch them behind the ears and keep them safe in their pocket. You know I can’t think of anything crueler than an angry cat, and in my line of work—I’ve seen plenty of cruelty.”
It was possibly one of the most difficult things Carole had ever done, using restraint. She wanted to kill the kid. She settled on a beating easily recovered from, but never forgotten. The scars she left on Wuan he would carry far longer than Beth’s. It was the first time she’d ever hurt someone and felt good about it, truly pleased for having inflicted pain. Slipping through the kid’s bedroom window an hour later, Carole felt fairly certain he’d remain unconscious for hours.
TED HAD DEVELOPED a family routine for Sunday mornings. Breakfast out, attend church in the Indonesian Christian Church, and stroll through neighborhoods so Beth could spend hours taking notes on her favorite things. Today Carole begged off the walk and swung by a popular department store all by herself. Two hours later, back at the apartments, she rang the Cho’s doorbell in the B Section. In her left hand she balanced a large platter of homemade all-American chocolate chip cookies chock full of crunchy nuts. Her right hand smoothed the hair she’d managed to wrestle into curls with Beth’s hidden curling iron. Of all the disguises she’d ever worn, this one felt the strangest to Carole. A pale pink flowered dress and a very motherly white cardigan draped neatly over her trim form, and she’d even forced herself into a pair of pantyhose and pink pumps. The voices were having a fit. The door swung open and a plump, pretty Asian face appeared in the doorway. Wuan’s mother had been crying. Carole didn’t feel even a twinge of remorse. Drawing her brows together in concern she spoke in flawless Wu.
“Mrs. Cho? I’m Carole White, and I’m sorry to bother you today, but I heard about Wuan. He goes to school with my daughter, and I wanted to see if there is anything I can do, anything at all to help.”
The door swung open and Mrs. Cho invited her in. Carole introduced herself again, and a third time when Mr. Cho wandered into the room. Within moments she sat on their white leather sofa and put her hands primly in her lap, listening. Mr. and Mrs. Cho informed her that Wuan had been attacked by what had surely been gang members, though they were still trying to convince him to speak to the police. Carole shook her head remorsefully and clucked her tongue, lamenting the dangers of the world, again offering any help they might need.
Mrs. Cho shook her head, “Wuan would not go hospital. We pay nurse to come wrap his ribs, stitch wounds. He not say who did this, no say where happen. Poor boy, he afraid. Wuan must be brave, learn to stay home, not go where gangs get him!”
Carole murmured words of acquiescence, sensing Wuan limping up the hallway. His father motioned him over. Clueless, the battered and bruised boy took a seat between his parents. Ignoring the plate of cookies Carole pushed towards him, he appeared to only half listen as his parents introduced her. They called her Karen and pronounced her last name as Waite, emphasizing his friendship with her daughter. Pleased with her disguise and deciding that the disgusting lipstick had been worth the extra effort, she waited patiently.
Wuan’s face had turned into a mess of black and blue, and his mouth looked so swollen that chewing nutty cookies seemed highly unlikely. After listening to his parents, he nodded with feigned politeness in her direction. Mr. and Mrs. Cho began a lecture aimed at convincing their son to go to the police, during which Carole nodded emphatically in all the right places. They insisted if he stayed at home or school, and took precautions, that he would be safe from gangs. At the end of their performance, Carole rose. Crossing to Wuan’s side she bent towards him, addressing him in Wu.
“Surely you realize, Wuan, that your parents are being sensible. You can’t possibly be in any danger in your own home.” She patted him on the shoulder, taking care to whack bruises hidden by his shirt. “You poor boy, so torn up like a wounded little kitten, I just want to pick you up and put you in my pocket.” She finished in English, “Don’t worry, Wuan, mama cat will take good care of you. She’s always watching.” Both Wuan’s parents were smiling and nodding their heads. Wuan had frozen in place, not saying a word or moving. The only evidence he recognized her was the wet stain spreading over the front of his khaki pants.
“MOM,” BETH WHISPERED her name.
Busy packing tomorrow’s lunch Carole glanced at her daughter in the MTV pajamas. She watched Beth lean out the kitchen doorway and peek into the living room to make sure that her father still sat in front of the evening news. Beth padded to the counter on her tiptoes.
“There’s a Catholic school that I could take the C bus to. It’s an hour away, but I don’t care.”
“I do.
You’re going to school in the morning.”
“I can’t go there with him there!”
Carole studied her daughter’s clear blue eyes. “You can and you will, Beth White. You go through schools fast enough without taking yourself out of them.”
“But what if…what if…” Beth squeaked. Trying to come up with an argument she rested one long-fingered hand near the cutting board where Carole was chopping tomatoes. Carole lifted her razor sharp knife up, twisting it in front of Beth’s pretty eyes. Beth studied it trustingly, biting her lip, obviously still working on another tactic. Carole swung the blade down, right towards Beth’s hand near the cutting board. Instinct took over and Beth jerked away in time.
“Mom!”
“You must learn to fight back.” Carole walked over to the kitchen door and silently shut it. She leaned across the counter and used the long knife to close the louvered shutters looking out on Ted lying on the couch. Turning, Carole leaned against the counter and met Beth’s steady gaze.
“You’re faster—than the average bear, Beth. I know you aren’t a fighter, but if a boy tries to hurt you, you can defend yourself. I’m going to teach you how. Okay?”
“Okay.” Beth’s lack of enthusiasm almost made Carole laugh.
“Catch.” Carole tossed the razor sharp blade into the air. Beth caught it nimbly by the handle. She looked surprised by her own prowess.
Within twenty minutes Carole decided that Beth could defend herself against Wuan, and likely a few of his friends too, if the need ever arose. Subdued, Beth scampered down the hallway without even telling her father goodnight. She definitely did not seem to enjoy a good fight like her mother did.
TED RECLINED ON the sofa with his evening beer. Carole stretched out beside him. He put a welcoming arm around her, pulling her against his bulk.
Heartless A Shieldmaiden's Voice: A Covenant Keeper Novel Page 26
