78

Twelve Years Old
Daniel’s Last Week

“Who’s buying that dresser?”

Pick-up day is the first Wednesday of every other month. On that day, a white van drives down the alley to Daniel’s shop, furniture is loaded out of sight, the van motors away, and Daniel’s space is cleared for new furniture. During the school year, Salem never sees the pick-up happen. In the summer, Daniel makes sure she’s absent on those Wednesdays, but on this one, she’s sick.

A fever, nausea.

The stomach flu.

She stays home. She promises her father she won’t come outside.

But her stomach ache turns for the worse, and she’s scared to throw up without her dad nearby. So she tiptoes to his shop.

She lets herself in. A fat-fingered man carries one end of a dresser, Daniel the other. Salem stands in the doorway, guilty, curious, sick.

“Who’s buying that dresser?” she repeats.

Daniel drops his end of the furniture. The fat-fingered man doesn’t change expression, but his eyes walk over Salem’s twelve-year-old body like flies. Salem’s face grows hot, and she glances down to make sure she’s still wearing clothes.

“Salem!”

She looks back up. Daniel is scared. The fat-fingered man looks satisfied. That makes no sense. Salem runs back into the house, and she throws up.

Her dad finds her over the toilet. He wants to tell her something, she’s sure of it, but instead he holds her hair away from her face and rubs her back until the spasms stop.

In the end, all he says is, “I’m sorry.”

They never talk about it, and Salem never sees the fat-fingered man again.

At least, not that she’ll let herself remember.