Taming of the Shoe

by Rebekah Dodson

  “Amy... we went to the park... she had her ball. That stupid soccer ball! I don’t know what happened...” It all tumbled out of me, along with a couple of tears I quickly wiped on my shirt. “She got bit somehow, on her thigh. So much blood...”

  Taylor curled her fingers over mine. I tugged my jeans down at the knee with my free hand in an attempt to regain some sort of normalcy.

  “Did you call your mom?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, yeah. I did. No answer.” I sighed, feeling completely wasted as some of the adrenaline ebbed from my limbs. I finally looked at Taylor. “What if Amy... what if it’s all my fault... again?”

  “Stop that,” she demanded, her voice so loud and sharp it startled me. “It’s a dog bite; not a car accident. And I take it there were other adults at the dog park? With their dogs? And no one saw what happened?”

  “Well, I didn’t stop and ask...” What exactly are you saying?

  “It’s not your fault!” she hissed, but despite her harshness there was an urgency to it. “Not your fault. Say it with me, Ethan. Not. Your. Fault.”

  “Not my fault,” I whispered. “But how can it be when I was in charge of her?”

  Before Taylor could answer, her phone rang. She looked at it and mouthed to me, I’m sorry. She stood and walked a few paces away, away from prying ears and eyes. “Hi, Mom...” I heard her say, but then she got too far away.

  A woman from the front desk called me over then to fill out some paperwork. I managed to get in Amy’s full name and birthday, but I didn’t know any of the other stuff they asked. Allergies? I don’t think so. Insurance? No idea. The lady was patient with me, though, which calmed me down even further, but not much. As soon as I finished the forms I checked my phone, but I had no notifications. Come on, Mother, check your stupid phone! I wanted to scream.

  When Taylor joined me in the waiting room again, I was pacing in front of chairs just to the left of the wide check-in desk. Taylor watched me for a minute, then she stopped me and pulled me into a hug.

  “Have you heard anything?” she asked.

  “No. How long have we been here?” I looked at the clock. It was shortly after ten in the morning.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered, biting at her bottom lip. “Look, Ethan, I don’t want to leave you, but I have to go, before...”

  “Go,” I told her. As much everything inside me screamed that I didn’t want her to leave me, my brain told me she did have other pressing matters. She nodded, but before she could flee away from me, I gently grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her toward me. I kissed her, a little harder than I wanted, and she squirmed under me. I released her and she backed up, wiping at her mouth.

  “What was that?”

  “I – couldn’t let you walk away without telling you how I felt.”

  She stared at me, confused, then turned and fled down the hallway behind her. I followed her – against everything in my head that kept saying I was making a huge mistake. But I couldn’t think about the people in the waiting room, about my sister in the back...I called after Taylor, “How is your Papa doing...?”

  Taylor had ducked into a room and didn’t hear me.

  “Who wants to know?”

  The minute I entered the room, I knew it had been a mistake. The glare of malice and hatred from Taylor’s grandfather seared into me as the man shifted in his hospital bed.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, a viper-like gaze that made me feel like a mouse in a corner.

  “What is your problem with me?” I demanded. I was tired of this man I didn’t know judging me.

  “There’s lip gloss on you, boy.”

  The tension in the room erupted.

  I wiped at my mouth and my hand came back with the soft pink gloss Taylor always wore. I wiped it on my pants hastily and tried to back out of the room. I was too tired, and too worried about Amy, to have this conversation.

  “Papa,” Taylor urged, “give Ethan a chance to explain. Please.”

  He grunted and adjusted the oxygen tube in his nose. “I don’t give murderers a change to explain themselves.” He looked straight ahead of him, then to Taylor, who was sitting on the opposite side of his bed.

  “That accident wasn’t his fault, Papa!” Taylor announced, standing. “And you don’t even know him!”

  “I may not know him,” he grunted and crossed his arms, “but I know of him. That girl he was with, Maeve? Her father was Pastor Jones.”

  Taylor gasped and looked at me, as if that was supposed to mean something. I knew Maeve’s parents were religious, and that she hated it. But she never really talked about it. I’d been to her house a million times, with crosses on the walls and the Footprints poem in the bathroom. Her parents were chill and never bothered us. Had it really been that bad and I failed to see it?

  “That boy corrupted her,” he continued. “She used to be nice and pretty like you, Taylor, but then she, what do you kids called it now, ‘hooked up’ with this Ethan kid.” He hooked a finger at me just to demonstrate, as if I wasn’t the only other ‘kid’ in the room. “She started dressing like a hooker – wearing black lipstick and short skirts like she worked at some kind of brothel!”

  “Papa, that wasn’t Ethan’s fault, I’m sure...”

  “That’s not even the worst part.” He reached out and touched her arm, and his voice dropped to a whisper I could barely hear. “That boy turned her into a homosexual. She told her father she was gay and was moving out. Can you believe that?”

  I choked on the very little spittle I had available, for my mouth had seemed to completely dry up. “Excuse me?”

  Taylor narrowed her eyes at her grandfather and pulled her arm away. “That’s insane. No one is turned gay...”

  Her grandfather protested hotly, “But Romans one says...”

  “Enough!” I yelled; my hands balled at my side. “You’re just making shit up to get Taylor to stop talking to me. Well, it’s not happening. Taylor is my girlfriend, and she’s old enough to make her own choices!”

  “Ethan...” Taylor warned, while her grandfather shot daggers at me with his eyes.

  I cut her off. “Maeve was my best friend, and if she was into girls, I would have known...” I trailed off when it hit me like a stack of bricks. The words tumbled out of my mouth and my jaw fell with them.

  Maeve was...

  No.

  She couldn’t be?

  A million memories flooded my brain then: Maeve, never jealous of my girlfriends, always sarcastic, commenting on how good they looked. I figured all girls did that, but now that I thought about it, Maeve did it all the time. Her taste in music, which included a few lesbian metal bands, should have been a dead giveaway. The way she looked at Susanna in dance theater class when she flounced her perky butt all over the place. The way her eyes followed every female friend I had...

  Oh, shit.

  This whole time, I’d been wrong. Maeve would have never loved me the way I loved her ... because she simply hadn’t been into men at all.

  My shoulders slumped and I leaned back against the wall. Feeling for the door, I shot Taylor a helpless look, and her eyes, big and wide, just stared back at me. “I—I need to find my sister,” I mumbled, and I let myself back into the hallway. As I left I could hear her grandfather raise his voice at her, but I blocked it out. Taylor was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

  Everything crashed in on me as I fought to keep my wits at the intake desk. I gave the receptionist my name, my sister’s name, and asked for an update. She smiled sadly, as I’m sure she was used to doing a million times a day and told me the doctor would be out as soon as he could. I slumped into the nearest seat and threw my head in my hands. Somewhere behind me a lady was trying to calm a screaming baby, and I tried to sort out the swirling thoughts in my head that crashed and bumped into each other, like a frenzy of fair bumper cars. There was no rhyme or reason, no pattern, no sense I could make of any of it.

  But there were a couple of things I
knew for a fact: Maeve was gone; her being gay or not gay was a moot point. My sister was bitten by a dog. My parents weren’t here. My parents... were getting a divorce. The only good thing I had in my life was my play and Taylor.

  Why was my life falling apart?

  “Ethan!”

  My head shot up at the shriek of my harried mother’s voice. I jumped to my feet. Her heels clacked against the sterile hospital floor as she spotted me and hurried over.

  “Where is your sister?”

  Chapter 18

  Taylor

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I shook off the weak grip of my Papa’s hand, careful to avoid the IV line stuck in his arm. “After him, of course,” I snapped, aware I was being disrespectful, but with little care. I stepped away from the bed and reached for the door.

  “Don’t you dare!” he called behind me.

  I froze for a moment. He never raised his voice to me. Nor had my father. They were both soft-spoken men who preferred a good argument over shouting. But Papa’s tone this time scared me. It was harsh, soft, and menacing.

  I turned to face him.

  “What you said was awful,” I announced, my fists balling at my side. “You were very mean to Ethan!”

  He sunk back into the hospital bed, and I knew I’d worn him out, but I didn’t care. “Have you been seeing him when I expressly told you not to?”

  His question was soft but filled with malice. I didn’t know whether to answer him and tell the truth or lie and save both of us. The thought of both made my stomach turn.

  “I’m sixteen. I can do what I want,” I blurted.

  He shook his head slightly, his eyes drooping shut. “I’m tired, Taylor. Can we have this argument later?”

  “No,” I told him, feeling slightly guilty that I wasn’t letting him rest. “Why don’t you like Ethan? He’s made some mistakes, but you have no idea how much he gets me, Papa! Like no one else!”

  He sighed, resigned. I’d never seen him so weak, and it hurt. “Everyone says that their first time,” he muttered.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He ran a hand over his nearly bald head. “It means, granddaughter, that in June you’ll be going back to Germany, and this boy will just be a memory. You think you have strong feelings now, but they will go away once you go home.”

  I crossed my arms, mostly to hide the fact that I was shocked. We’d never discussed my return to Germany; I assumed I’d get to stay here longer. Especially with Ethan... “You don’t know that,” I blurted.

  “Maybe so, but I talked to your mother about your actions lately – hanging out with boys and skipping church – and as long as you live in my house, you’ll not have any contact with that boy.” He paused, turning his red-rimmed eyes to me slowly. “And your tickets are already purchased. You’ll be leaving June fifteenth.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes – his universal signal for this conversation is over.

  Heat rushed over my body and I wanted to combust. Our final play, the third over three days, was June fourteenth, and he knew that. He was shipping me halfway across the world the day after our curtain call, and he knew it. I hadn’t talked to my mother in weeks – I’d been so busy with Ethan, homework, and the play, I didn’t have time. Why were they plotting against me?

  I let the hospital door slam behind me as I left. I just couldn’t take it anymore. When would people stop controlling my life like I was a little child? My chest heaved with the anger boiling inside me, and I hated it. I wasn’t an angry person – most of the time. But ever since I’d been with Ethan it had come up more often. Why was that? Was he making me angry – or making me release what I’d pent up for so long?

  I turned the corridor and out into the ER waiting room to see if I could find Ethan. If anyone knew how I felt at this point, it was him. But did I dare risk my problems when his poor sister had this terrible accident?

  When I got to the waiting room, there was a woman talking to Ethan. Rather, standing in front of him and shaking her finger with one hand on her hip. She looked like a lawyer with a pressed, dark-purple pantsuit, lavender button up shirt, and her hair pinned back in a tight bun. Was that his mother? I crept closer, taking a seat and snatching a National Geographic magazine on the table next to me, which I promptly hid behind. There were three other people in the ER, two older women who were likely sisters, with one of them on oxygen, and an elderly man with a bandaged arm who was dozing off in the corner next to the TV. It was hard to believe none of them were staring at the spectacle that was Ethan and his birth-giver.

  “I leave you two alone for a day and this is what happens? Ethan, how could you?”

  “I was working on homework and turned away for a second!” Ethan hotly protested.

  My heart went out to him. His face was red, and he was breathing heavy. It hurt I couldn’t comfort him. I winced as she continued to berate him. I knew firsthand what it was like to have a mother that yelled at you.

  “Where’s Father?” Ethan was asking while my internal monologue droned on. I flipped a page to some mummy discovery but didn’t care. I peeked over the edge of the magazine.

  “He’ll be here soon; he’s tied up in the city. You better hope this hospital bill isn’t expensive, or it’s coming out of your allowance. And what in the world did you spend fifty dollars on at the pharmacy again? The bank texted me. If you’re buying...”

  “I’ll talk to you about it later,” Ethan interrupted. “Right now I need to find...” He turned and scanned the room, his eyes settling on me.

  I lowered the magazine. What had Ethan gone to the pharmacy for? And what in the world would cost that much? Prescriptions, maybe? Ethan’s family looked well off, so I didn’t think that could be it. What else would he need that was so pricey?

  Ethan walked toward me, and I stood, wringing my hands in my skirt. “Mom, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said, facing me with his mom behind him. His mother wasn’t even paying attention, leaning over the counter and filling out some forms. It surprised me she was so callous, but in a crisis like this, I couldn’t blame her. He held out his hand to me, which was odd, but I took it and he led me over to where his mother stood.

  Then, he turned and took my head in both his hands and kissed me. Shocked, I stepped back and fisted my shirt. I didn’t even know what to say, so I just gaped at him. So much for our secret relationship.

  “Ethan Mark!”

  That apparently got her attention.

  And boy, did she look even more mad than finding out a dog had bitten Amy.

  “This is Taylor,” he said, “and she’s my girlfriend.” He looked at me. “Taylor, this is my mom, Emily Hersbill.”

  “N-nice to meet you,” I stuttered and jutted my hand out.

  She looked at my hand, then turned back to her paperwork. “I don’t have time for this.” She signed something with a flourish and tossed the pen down.

  The receptionist hit a button under the counter and looked at her. “I’ll take you back in a second if you want to come back and wait.”

  I could almost see Ethan bristle at the preference his mother was given, but then he seemed to shake it off. I slipped my arm around Ethan, more because I was shaking than anything. I’d never met a boyfriend’s parents – heck, I never had a boyfriend before – but this certainly wasn’t what I had envisioned.

  Before Emily pushed through the door, she turned to look at me. “All I can hope is you’re not some hussy like that last one he dated. I’m sure he told you what happened to her.”

  “Excuse me—” I started to protest, but she was already gone, the door clanging behind her.

  I looked at Ethan. “Well, that went badly.”

  “Yeah, you could say that.” He looked straight ahead; his face blank.

  “Ethan?”

  “Hmm?” His arm wrapped around me finally and he pulled me to his side.

  “I think I should go...”

  “Why?�
�

  “You’ve clearly got a lot to do, and Papa is sleeping. They told me they’d release him this afternoon, so I’m going to go home and get some sleep.”

  A small smirk spread over Ethan’s face and he leaned into whisper, “We didn’t do a lot of that last night, did we?”

  My cheeks heated so hot I was afraid to even look at him. Then I realized his mother had called me a hussy, and I looked up at Ethan. “What did you go to the pharmacy for?”

  He dropped his arm and fidgeted. “Can I give you a ride home?”

  I chewed my bottom lip. He was avoiding the question so that meant it had something to do with me. Or was I being paranoid? Home was a twenty-minute walk, and I was dead on my feet. Ethan was right; I’d had about two hours of sleep, and despite coffee, it was still early in the day. “Sure.”

  His face lit up then, and it soothed me to see him at least a little happy, despite the turn of the day. “Don’t you need to check on your sister?” I asked as his hand slipped into mine.

  “My mother said she’d update me. Besides, I’m coming back here after I drop you off.”

  He really did look sincere, so I squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

  It was a silent walk to the Silver Beast, which he’d managed to park right outside the ER. I got in the front seat, and my foot hit a white paper bag on the floorboard. I picked it up and examined it. Ethan eyed me sideways as he pulled out of the parking spot.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “I, uh, well... it’s for you. After our conversation last night about being safe. I thought better safe than sorry.”

  I reached in the bag slowly, scared of what I might find, but a little delighted at a surprise. His mother had said it was fifty dollars. What in the world would be so expensive at a pharmacy?

  I closed my hang over a small square box, like the kind cold pills come in, and pulled it out. MyWay Plan B, the box stated. We had pulled up to a stop sign, so I shook the box at Ethan. “What is this?” I asked again.

  “It’s on the box.”