Carry Me Home

by Jessica Therrien

  “I’ll be heading to church in about an hour, and Grandpa will be going over to the Elks. You want to come with one of us?” my grandma asks.

  Mom emerges from the bedroom dressed and ready. “I’m heading to Kinkos to fax something. Be back in an hour,” she says, rushing out the door before I can answer.

  I turn back to Grandma. “No thanks. I’ll stay with Ruth.”

  My sister’s gaze veers from the pages of an open book. I’m bored just watching her.

  “Or I might go to Leti’s,” I say, changing my mind. “Would that be okay?”

  I don’t really get an answer just a nod of the head, but my grandmother’s hesitancy gives me pause. Maybe I shouldn’t go. I think of the girls looking for me, of all the terrible things I’ve seen. It’s safer here.

  I glance at Ruth, reading her book. What else am I going to do, though? Sit here and watch her read?

  But that’s exactly what I should do. I should enjoy a boring afternoon by my sister’s side. Because my decision to leave changes my whole life, and there’s no going back.

  * * *

  Ro’s house is starting to feel like a second home. I spend all day there with Angel, watching TV while he drinks beer and Ro and Toño do God knows what in her room. Omar and Vee were here at first but they left at three o’clock.

  “Here,” Angel says, tossing me a beer as he settles back in next to me on the couch. “Don’t make me drink alone.”

  I start sipping it. He gets comfortable and unpauses the movie we are watching. I haven’t really been paying much attention. I’m too distracted, listening for any sound of foul play. Every honk, thunk, or siren makes me go still and quiet, like a deer listening for the rustle in the grass. Angel leans in for a sloppy kiss, wet with the taste of alcohol. It startles me because I’m busy playing watchdog, and I jump.

  I can tell by the slight snarl in his lip that he thinks I’m put off by him, not the prospect of someone busting the door down. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close with an almost violent force, holding me to him tighter than is comfortable.

  “Settle down,” I say, attempting to push him back. “I think you’re getting pretty drunk.”

  “You’re supposed to be drinking with me. Come on drink some beer.”

  I recognize the way his eyes shine. They are the red glossy eyes of a drunk man. With lazy lids, tired, but hungry for a fight. They are my father’s eyes.

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Fine,” he says, flipping his beer over so it spills and foams into a puddle on the coffee table. “If we’re not going to drink, let’s do something else.”

  He laughs and scoots closer, stealing a rough kiss.

  I turn away. “Angel, I think we should slow down. I’m not ready for this, and you’re really drunk.”

  “I’m not that drunk. I’m used to it. I drink all the time. Come on. I just want to be close to you.”

  “We can hang out on the couch, but I think you better stop drinking. I don’t want things to go too far. Okay?”

  “Okay. I promise. I’ll be gentle.”

  He starts to kiss on me again, moving from my lips down my neck toward the center of my chest. I try pushing him away but he’s a heavy beast of muscle and lust. My whole body flushes into a nervous sweat.

  “Angel, please just stop. Back off a little. I don’t like this.”

  “Just relax. It’ll all be over soon, okay?”

  “What will be over?”

  I struggle beneath him, trapped between him and the back of the couch.

  “Angel stop it!” I cry, as he reaches up my shirt.

  He slaps his other hand over my mouth and I scream instinctively, but the sound is stifled and cut short as he slams my head against the wall behind us. I black out for a moment.

  I’m completely dizzy and vaguely remember being carried into the far back bedroom over his shoulder. My head throbs as I go in and out of consciousness, and only snippets of the horror happening to me slip through the darkness. My ear hits the wall to the side of me. My clothes are stripped. I’m belly-down, and the bed rocks beneath me.

  When I finally manage to break through the shock and pain, all I can do is scream at the top of my lungs. I don’t know if anyone can hear me or if anyone cares. Every part of my body wants to fight so I claw at the sheets, but they slip past me like I’m grasping at water.

  Something hits the back of my head, and I’m swept into unconsciousness again. I wake with no idea of how long I’ve been out. He is still on top of me thrusting, his breath reeking of beer. I scream, and it must be at the right moment because Toño comes running into the room.

  For one terrifying second I think he’s in on it, but when he sees Angel on top of me and hears my muffled cries, Toño tackles Angel to the ground. They roll off the bed and Toño cracks Angel in the nose while I scramble and curl into a protective ball amidst the pillows.

  All the banging and screaming must have caught Ro’s attention because she is there wrapping a blanket around me. Then, like a dream, it’s quiet and we’re alone.

  I lay in her arms for what seems like hours, my face streaked with dried tears. She keeps telling me she’s sorry, but I hardly hear her after a while. Everything seems distant and unreal. I sleep there with my knees pulled close to my chest, ignoring the pain and feeling humiliated. I don’t want to move. I’m afraid to.

  My clothes are folded next to me on the bed when I wake, and eventually I get up the strength to put them on. My legs tremble as I slide my feet into my jeans. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. I clench my teeth and try to blink the tear induced blur from my eyes when I see blood on the inside of my thighs covering faint bruises.

  I sit on the bed, but immediately recoil from its sin-stained sheets, and bump into the mirrored closet. There, I meet the new me. The degraded, broken-down version of myself. She stares back, my reflection, with eyes a little darker than before. My head throbs, and I follow the pain until I find its source. Dry blood is caked in my hair. I glance at the pillow, which has been covered with an old white towel. A large red circle stains its center.

  A knock at the door fills me with the sudden urge to hide the evidence of my shame. I pull the sheets over the blood-stained pillow and flash back to the moment, dropping to the floor in a helpless heap.

  “Lucy?” Ro says, finally finding me beside the bed.

  I keep my eyes squeezed shut, feeling the sting of another cut above my ear just missing my temple.

  “Oh, Lucy.” She reaches out, but I wince away. “Are you okay? You’ve been sleeping for a long time. I didn’t know if I should call your mom. I was so scared for you. I’m so sorry, Luce!”

  It comforts me to hear her use my name, reminding me she’s my friend from a time before I became Guera. Before any of this new messed up life.

  “Where is he?” I ask, terrified of her answer.

  “Toño threw him out. He went home, I think. Vee called. She’s furious, but Toño told her what happened. She doesn’t want to believe it. Everyone knows, Guera. Everyone.”

  “Shit. What does that mean, Ro? What are they going to do to me now? Why would he do this? I didn’t know. I still don’t know what happened. I went blank. It went black... I ...”

  “Shhh,” she says dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around me again. Tears roll over my face leaving dark spots on her tight grey t-shirt. “Don’t worry. It’s over. I don’t know what they’re going to do, but if I were you I’d try and get out fast. You’re new. Maybe they won’t care as much.” She sighs and pulls away. “I don’t know. You know a lot, though. They might try and come after you. Maybe if you get out before they realize you’ve left? Its either that or face them.”

  The thought is paralyzing. “Where am I supposed to go? How am I supposed to face...him. I’m scared, Ro.”

  “I know, Guera. I know. But you have to think and decide fast. It’s either run or face it. You need to shower and get cleaned up. You’re a mess. I’ll he
lp you. Come...”

  She takes me to her bathroom and gets me undressed again, peeling back my clothes like I’m a stiff-legged Barbie doll. The feel of her hands makes my skin crawl and I jolt every time she touches me. I try to help her, but I’m still shaking. I get in the shower and wash myself as well as I can, sliding the soap gently over my tender thighs while Ro goes to get some of her clothes for me to wear. The heat of the water helps.

  All I can think of is how I’m going to get away from here. I’ll have to convince Mom we need to go home. Every time I ask her what’s going on or if we’re staying, she won’t give me a straight answer, but Summer’s almost over. We’ll miss school. She won’t be able to argue that. We have to leave now, whatever it takes. I’ll lie if I have to, tell her my busted up head is from fighting, which isn’t too far from the truth.

  “Ro,” I say, pulling fresh clothes over my bruised legs.

  She comes back into the bathroom. “What’s up?”

  “What will happen if I stay?”

  “I don’t know, Guera. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be where Angel can find you.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Mom

  “MOMMY?” LUCY COMES STRIDING through the back door, her voice desperate.

  “Mommy?”

  “What? What is it?” I rush out of the bathroom. I’ve known the sound of pain in her cry since she was a baby. A mother knows.

  She crashes into me, burying her face into my shoulder. My heart is tortured by her choking sobs. “What happened?” I beg, pulling her into the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom.

  She can’t talk, and that scares me more. Tears streak her red, swollen face and the look in her eyes is childlike. We rock back and forth in slow motion until she settles down.

  A quiet tapping at the door interrupts us, and Lucy stiffens. Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head, silently pleading with me to keep her secret.

  “Everything okay?” my mother asks. The chipped gold knob ticks back and forth, but it’s locked.

  “Fine. We’re okay,” I yell. “Be out in a sec.”

  I lead Lucy to the toilet and she sits, her hands still trembling. As she wipes her cheeks, I notice the side of her face looks swollen. It’s slightly yellow, almost bruised, but she’s been crying and her hair is in the way, so it’s hard to tell.

  “Are you hurt, baby?” I whisper, kneeling down in front of her in my nightly getup. I’ve been working shifts at Mi Casa Tu as a cocktail waitress and they refuse to let me wear anything but this skimpy pink flamenco dress that doesn’t fit my large body. Fat bulges from around my armpits and back. I stretch its seams as I settle on to the floor. “Tell me what happened.”

  “We just need to go home, Mom. Okay?”

  I sigh, digging through shame and guilt to find my strength. “We can’t, sweetie. Your Dad and I, we—”

  “Yeah, you’re getting a divorce,” she snaps. “Whatever. I don’t even care about that. Can’t we just move into a different house or something? I have to get out of here. I can’t stay here.”

  The more she talks, the deeper she sinks back into her pool of distress. Her words are rushed, bordering on hysterical.

  “Shhh. Shhh,” I calm her. “Why? I thought you were enjoying it here. You’re gone with your friends all day.”

  “Yeah well one of them beat the shit out of me, so I’m ready to leave.”

  I close my eyes and let the truth wash over me in a wave of disbelief. “Oh sweetie. Are you okay?”

  I lean in to hold her and feel the wetness of her cheek, her soft hair brushing my neck, the tight grip of her embrace. This is my fault. I’d felt bad about ripping her from her life and tried to win her love by giving her too much freedom.

  “My head hurts,” she answers, and then her pleading eyes glisten with the need to be heard. “I’m scared, Mom.” Her shaky whisper speaks louder to me than her wailing cry. “I’m scared to stay here. I’ll go anywhere else. We can start a new life. Just please don’t make me stay here.”

  I want to give her the peace she’s looking for. A light in me shines bright with the dream of a new life with my children, but the road ahead is a dark and dreary thicket of thorns. I think about it too long and she’s off again, babbling in quick fearful bursts.

  “We can sleep in the car until we get on our feet, or find one of those free hotel things. What are they called? Hostels? Don’t you have any friends out of town or—”

  I clasp her jittery hands in mine. “Okay. Okay,” I hush her. I’m not ready to leave, but I can see, and feel, how desperate she is. It’s more than manipulation. I can’t say no. “Can you handle a week while I get things worked out?” Her worried eyes give me my answer. “A few days?” I try again.

  She bites the corner of her lip and gives me a subtle nod. “I think so.”

  The promise makes me smile, and I hope in some small way it’s making up for everything. “So what was the fight about? Where’d she hurt you?”

  The question seems to put her into a daze. She stares past me at nothing. I reach out to examine the gash above her ear, and she jumps so violently I flinch in return. With a quick swat she bats my hand away and recoils, cowering against the back of the toilet.

  Both of us are still for a moment, but I can feel the crease in my brow deepen. I don’t know what to say.

  “Sorry,” she says, her body softening toward me.

  My imagination toys with me, inventing a thousand ways she could have been wronged. “You’re scaring me, Lucy.”

  She sits up straighter, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Really. I’m sorry. I must still be in defense mode. I just need to lay down and rest.”

  I take hold of her hand as she stands, but she pulls it away casually and opens the bathroom door.

  “Are you going to be—”

  “I’m fine,” she insists. “Love you, Mom. Have a good night at work.”

  When the door shuts I sit in the silence second-guessing all of my choices. I could take it all back. I could call Steve and apologize, flee back to the predictably monotonous and empty life I’d broken free of. It was stable. Sort of. It would make Lucy happy.

  Then the whispering champion of my freedom convinces me to stare unflinchingly into the future. There is a little voice in me that refuses to be smothered.

  He pushed me. I tell myself. It’s over.

  I pick myself off the floor and glare at my disgusting figure in the mirror, trying to stuff my breasts away from the plunging neckline of my uniform. It’s useless, they spill out the top.

  As I head toward the car I hide my shame behind an even stare. We have no money. No place to go. Worry and dread follow me to work, but I’m always my strongest self when life forces me to be.

  We’ll make it. We have to.

  CHAPTER 16

  Lucy

  TWO NIGHTS PASS WITHOUT a word from anyone. It’s late, and I should be sleeping like the rest of the house, but it feels like I’ve forgotten how. My ears pick up every sound. The scrape of a tree branch against the tin roof. The hum of the midnight drivers as they prowl. I’m listening for him. Waiting for him to come find me in the night and kidnap me as I struggle in silence. I can still feel the tight grip of his hand over my mouth. My breath is shallow and quick, every muscle tense and set with anxiety. Sleep is not an option.

  A rock ticks against the sliding glass door and I jolt, jostling the air mattress. I hold my breath as Ruth sways next to me, but she stays asleep. I hear it again. That familiar calling used to build excitement. Now it makes me feel like a frightened bird in the bushes ready to take flight.

  I slide off the airbed, but keep hidden as rocks continue to tick at the door. If it’s him, I’ll scream, I decide. It’ll wake everyone up. Lights will come on and hopefully that will scare him away. I step in awkward patterns, avoiding the squeaky sections of the floor and find a break in the curtains that allows me to peer outside unseen.

  It’s Ro. My fear dissipates almost instantly, and I
allow my forehead to fall quietly against the cold glass of the door.

  Outside she beckons me to the side of the house. I follow without thought, hugging my bare arms against the warm cotton of my nightshirt.

  “What’s up?” I ask before I turn the corner.

  Vee stands like a brick wall in front of me. I almost plow right into her.

  My heart stutters, impatiently waiting for the next few seconds to play out. She’s either here to silence me or to negotiate.

  “We all know what happened,” she says, cracking her knuckles one by one. “I can’t say that I’m okay with it, or that it didn’t go unpunished. He’s my brother, though. I trust you understand that was brought into account.”

  I just nod.

  “I need to know now what you plan to do. If you leave there will be consequences. If you stay you’ll have to face him and the rest of the group.”

  Either way I lose. I don’t know what consequences she’s talking about, but my stomach balls into a knot at the thought of being jumped out or whatever else she could mean.

  “I can’t stay,” I say with my head down, trying to offer as little information as possible.

  Her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth in disapproval as I wait for what’s next.

  “It’s a good thing you’re new, Guera. I can’t let you off clean, but I’ll make you a deal. There are some things that need to be taken care of, and we need an extra head. Show up when we call on you tomorrow and we’ll leave your grandparents alone after you leave. Chicken out, and I can’t promise anything. We clear, Guera?”

  Her words stun me. I never even thought of my grandparents. My head thuds as I weigh my options. I must take too long grappling with two different kinds of fear, because I’m pushed against the wall of the trailer. The sharp jab of metal into my back makes me cry out.

  “Yes. We’re clear,” I plead in a distorted voice as she grips me by the throat.

  I glance at Ro, but only for a second. She looks away, eyes glazed over with shame.

  “I can’t stop him from trying to see you,” Vee says as she releases me. “He will, I warn you. He claims to have been too drunk to realize his actions. You can work it out between yourselves. Don’t let it get in the way tomorrow.”