Chapter Twelve

Dead Fish Eyes

 

I KEPT MYSELF in the position I fell asleep in, which was with my knees pulled in tight to my chest. My mouth was dry and I couldn’t swallow, like I had licked cement all night. The rain clouds had cleared and gave way to the rising sun. I looked over at my cousins on the bunk beds who were still sleeping.

I heard my uncle’s voice, and a pain ran through my body.

“Good morning, sweetie. How’s my beautiful wife today?” He hadn’t shaken the frogs loose from his voice yet.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Aunt Lori asked.

“No reason.”

“You’re up and dressed early this morning.”

“I’m going fishing with Bob. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Okay. But first, I’ll make you breakfast.”

I heard the clicking of the gas stove as she lit a burner and then the scrape of an iron skillet being placed on it. Then I heard a tap, tap, and the crack of an eggshell. Bacon sizzled and filled the cottage with its smell.

The window was open and a warm breeze wrapped around my body. The sun crept through the lace curtains, creating jagged shadows in the room. I remained frozen for fear he might hear me if I moved. My heart pounded in my chest against my ribs, and I was burning between my legs.

I closed my eyes and I was stuck inside my darkness for what seemed like hours. I couldn’t shake the image of his sweating face above mine. I remembered the red spider veins across his nose, the oil on his forehead, and the urgency in his eyes and how they looked right through me. I heard his voice blowing hot in my ear. “Do you need me?”

I don’t know how long I had been in my nightmare when I heard the crank of his car engine. Then I heard the station wagon pull away from the cottage. Only then did I take a deep breath and stretch my legs out. I moved slowly because of the bruises on my thighs and the pain I felt bone deep within my body.

Wendy nudged me. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you getting out of bed?”

I wanted to tell her that her daddy was a monster, but the words were stuck in my throat. I couldn’t utter one single syllable. I thought of my grandfather and his throat cancer. How Mom said he couldn’t express his feelings even though his mind was still clear. He was a prisoner in his own body. That’s the way I felt.

The truth was muddy and dirty and sharp. It would cut my throat if I spoke.

I needed the pen my dad had given me. I needed red ink!

I studied Wendy’s face as if I had just seen her for the first time, looking for him in her features, but she looked just like her mother. Paige, on the other hand, had her dad’s dark brooding looks and I felt sorry for her then. “I’ll get up in a minute.”

After they left, I waited a few more minutes before I forced myself out of bed and to the breakfast table. I sat down at my usual spot across from Uncle Butch’s seat. I could still feel his presence, could still smell his cigarette.

I looked at his empty plate. It was smeared with egg yolk and had a cigarette butt sticking up from the mess. Next to his plate was his “World’s Best Dad” coffee mug. A drip of coffee was still on the rim.

“Live and Let Die” came on and I went to the radio and turned it up. I heard the words with new meaning and with every sharp note, every crashing of the symbols, anger ran through me. I thought of Uncle Butch sweating over me. I did not want to ‘Live and let live” anymore. I no longer wanted to give in and cry. I was sing-yelling all the words, spinning and dancing to the song and when it was finished, my senses were scattered in a sharp chorus of pain.

I pounded the table and then quickly swept my hand across it where Uncle Butch had been, swiping the mug off the table. It went crashing to the floor and broke into tiny pieces.

“What did you do that for?” Wendy asked.

“I don’t know.” But I did know and I blurted out, “I’m mad. Really mad,” before I could stop myself. 

Paige was looking at me with her brows furrowed, listening with her ear cocked toward me. She was trying to figure me out I guess, but she didn’t say anything.

“Why are you so mad? Is it because we’re on restriction?” Wendy asked.

“No, just drop it, okay?” I whispered so Aunt Lori wouldn’t hear, but she heard anyway.

She came into the room to see what had happened. She looked at me, then at the pieces of the mug on the floor.

“It was an accident,” Wendy said. She nudged my knee under the table with hers. I wanted to hug her, but didn’t.

But then Paige spoke up. “She’s mad, Mama. Really mad.”

Aunt Lori looked at me with questioning eyes. Could she see my pain? My guilt? “Oh, honey. I know.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “I know you must be frustrated that you’re stuck here so far away from your mother and your friends . . . stuck here in a new place. But it will get better, I promise.”

How could she be so nice yet so clueless?

“It’s not that.” Say it. Scream it. Just tell her! Tell everyone!

“Are you upset that it’s Father’s Day? Do you miss your dad, sweetie?”

I was silent. I didn’t even know it was Father’s Day.

“I’m sorry about your parents getting a divorce. I know how awful you must feel . . . not knowing what’s going to happen to your family,” Aunt Lori said. She gave me The Sympathy Smile.

Oh great. She just made everything worse, if that were possible. I hated The Sympathy Smile.

That was the thing that pushed me to the edge. I was going to Rock The Boat. I was going to Tip The Boat Over!

The words formed deep in my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but my words were stuck in my throat. I squeaked instead. An unrecognizable “Gaw” escaped.

“Are you okay?” Aunt Lori asked.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Please give me my voice back.

Aunt Lori kept looking at me, waiting for an answer. She walked over to me and brushed my hair away from my face.

I nodded. Tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I know it’s hard, honey, but everything will be okay. I promise.”

She shouldn’t make promises that she couldn’t keep.

“Now, is anyone hurt?” Aunt Lori asked while bending down and picking up the bigger pieces.

We shook our heads. It was quiet and everything was still. She looked at each of us and when she was convinced no one was cut and bleeding, got the broom from the kitchen. I watched as she swept the little white lie into the dust pan and into the trash where it belonged. 

“Where’s Daddy?” Paige asked. The question got my stomach all twisted in a knot again.

“He went fishing, sweetie. He’ll be back later,” Aunt Lori said, returning to the kitchen with the broom in her hand.

Paige pushed her tongue out through the space of her two missing front teeth. “Momma, I feel a tooth coming in.”

“Really?” Aunt Lori came back onto the porch. “Let me see.” She bent over and examined Paige’s front teeth. “Yep, you’re getting your first adult tooth.” She rubbed the top of Paige’s head.

After breakfast, I took my plate to the kitchen sink where Aunt Lori was washing the dried eggs from the iron skillet.

“Chris?” she said.

“Hmm?” Still no voice. Had she seen me swipe the coffee mug off the table?

“How are you feeling this morning? You seemed pretty sick last night.”

“Um . . .” Squeak, squeak. Nothing in my life was the way I thought it would be. Not my mother, or the aching loneliness that kept me from falling asleep at night, not even my so called vacation.

“Come with me. I want to talk to you alone for a minute.”

“Okay.” I followed her to our bedroom and she sat on my bed.

I heard Uncle Butch’s voice in my head. This never happened. I wanted to scream but was too afraid.

She patted the space next to her and I sat down. She pushed my hair behind my ears, something my mom used to do too.

“Honey, I saw the blood on your underwear.” Her eyes were burning through me, reaching for my heart. She sees my pain, hears my screams. “You should have told me.”

“I wanted to.” My voice escaped through gasping cries of relief. “I thought everyone would be mad at me, like I did something wrong. I was so afraid.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid that you started.”

“Started what?” I asked through sobs, confused.

“Started your period. There’s no shame in it. Every woman goes through it.” Aunt Lori looked at me with a knowing smile and winked.

I hadn’t had a period yet so I didn’t know what to think. I panicked, and my voice left me as she kept talking.

“Has your mother talked to you about your menstrual cycle?”

I shook my head in defeat.

“Well, sweetie, it’s when your body starts to change into a woman’s . . . and that means you are able to have babies.” She patted my knee. “Soon, you’ll get boobs and you’ll start to fill out and get some curves on that boney body of yours.” She patted my knee like I was a little girl. I cringed.

“Why can’t my mom come get me Aunt Lori?” I had the mother of all secrets squeezing my heart and sneaking up my throat, twisting around my vocal cords. I couldn’t talk so I cried instead.

She sighed. “Honey, I’m sorry. I know that I shouldn’t be the one to give you this talk; it should be your mom sitting here next to you. I know you’re frustrated. But things will get better soon. I promise. I’m sure she can explain all of this to you better than I can. Your mom will be here in no time. Meanwhile, let’s just make the best of things, okay?” She put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed me to her.

I nodded.

“We need to do something about your bloody underwear, though, sweetie. You can’t go around bleeding all day. You stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

She left the bedroom and when she returned, she had something in her hands. She held up her right one first. “This is a pad. You put it in your underwear when you are on your period and it will catch the blood. It’s pretty simple. You just peel off the backing, put it in your underwear, and wa-la, you’re done.”

Then she held up her left hand and produced a white cardboard tube with a string hanging from its end. “This is a bit trickier.” She pointed to the end with the cotton protruding from it. “You put this end inside yourself, and then push the bottom half up and it releases the tampon inside, see?” She demonstrated by pushing the bottom half of the cardboard up and a tube of pressed cotton sprang lose from the thing. It rocketed in an arch across my knee with the string attached and landed on the bed next to me.

I examined the tampon and then the pad. “I’ll use the pads,” I said in order to make my aunt happy and to shut her up about the whole menstrual cycle thing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

I know she kept talking, but I disappeared into my mind.

She finally finished and hugged me. Her touch felt empty, but I still didn’t want her to let me go.

“It’ll be okay.” Aunt Lori rocked me in her embrace. “I just had to give Wendy the same talk last summer.”

Oh no. Wendy! I wondered then. Was I his first? His last?

Instantly I became afraid for Wendy. It hurt me to think that The Monster could have hurt her too. I leaned forward and groaned.

“What is it, honey?”

More groans.

“You sound like you’re hurting.”

I nodded.

“That’s the cramps, sweetie. Menstrual cramps. They’ll go away. Sometimes it helps to take a cold shower.”

After she left the bedroom, I laid down on the bed and pulled my legs up tight to my chest. A few minutes later Oreo jumped up on the bed. He lay down next to me and started purring. That sound, the sound of happiness, comforted me. It softened all the sharp edges of life. It was my favorite sound in the whole world. Then he started making biscuits with his paws. That was what my mom called it when cats kneaded their front paws on something soft, but I knew that’s what they did when they wanted to nurse.

I rubbed his head. “I know you want your mother. I want my mine too.”

I cried softly so no one would hear me. My tears disappeared into his fur, but he didn’t care. He was my only confidant.

Since I didn’t sleep much the night before, I was dead tired. I listened to Oreo purring until I fell asleep.

After I got up, I went to the porch and found my cousins and aunt at the table, playing cards.

“Are you feeling better, honey?” Aunt Lori asked.

“A little,” I lied.

I sat down to join them but as soon as I did, I heard Uncle Butch’s car approaching. I immediately tensed up and my palms got sweaty.

A few seconds later he pulled the car up in front of the porch and parked. I watched through the screen to see what would happen next.

Uncle Butch and Bob got out of the station wagon and stretched. Then Uncle Butch pulled a white bucket out from the trunk while Bob removed his fishing pole.

“Your daddy sure is a good fisherman,” Bob said.

“He’s not my daddy,” I said, but no one heard me.

“See you later, Butch,” Bob said and then went into his cottage.

After Bob left, Uncle Butch reached inside the bucket. With a swoosh, he held up a stringer of fish. “I got dinner.”

“Daddy’s home and he has some fish,” Paige called out to her mother excitedly.

Aunt Lori walked over to the door. “Well, I’ll be.” She had a genuine smile. I wanted to run to her and hide from The Monster, but I was frozen.

I looked at the fish, each one strung from gill to mouth on the thin rope, spots of blood on their bodies and running from their mouths. Even though there was a screen between us, I could still see their dead hopeless eyes.

“You’ll have to clean them. I don’t want to have anything to do with all that mess.” A strand of Aunt Lori’s blond hair fell across the side of her face and she brushed it off.

“It’s just a little blood and guts. It won’t kill you.” He walked to the picnic table in the muddy yard and set the fish down. Aunt Lori sighed and went into the kitchen while I continued watching Uncle Butch.

He walked back over to the car and got out his tackle box, then went back over to the fish. He pulled out a filet knife. It gleamed in the sunlight. “Come here, girls. I’ll show you how to clean a fish.” I remained a chameleon, blending into the background to avoid The Monster that had replaced Uncle Butch.

The screen door banged shut as Paige ran to her dad. He put the knife down and hugged her. Wendy stayed on the porch with me.

He looked at us. “Wendy, bring me some newspaper would you, honey?”

“Are you coming?” Wendy asked me.

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” she said. She smiled a genuine smile. Not the fake Sympathy Smile Aunt Lori gave me. “Sorry about your dad too.” She said so much without saying anything at all. She seemed smarter than a thirteen year old. Smarter than both Aunt Lori and Uncle Butch.

At that moment, I realized that I loved her like a sister. “Thanks.”

Wendy reluctantly grabbed a pile of old newspaper and went to her dad.

“You don’t want to learn how to gut a fish, Chris?” He gave me The Stare Down. His eyes searched mine, like he was waiting for me to say something. Something about last night. It took me a few seconds, and then I realized that it wasn’t just a look, but a challenge. Would I say anything about last night?

“No. I don’t want to see any blood or guts.”

“Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing,” Uncle Butch said.

Wendy and Paige shrugged and turned their attention to Uncle Butch, who reached into the bucket and removed a fish from the stringer. I went to our bedroom to watch from a safer distance.

I knew what was in store for those dead fish. With one push, Uncle Butch inserted the filet knife into the belly and wiggled it up to the head. He took his thumbs and spread the fish wide, allowing for the guts to spill out from the body.

Aunt Lori came into the bedroom while I was looking out the window. She put her arm on my shoulder. “Honey, where are your cousins?”

“They’re outside helping Uncle Butch clean the fish.”

“What?” She looked out the window just as Uncle Butch handed the knife to Wendy. Then Wendy plunged the knife into the belly of a limp fish. She forced the knife up toward the head, struggling to keep hold of the fish and the knife.

After a minute of struggling, she lost her grip and the knife landed point down just inches from her foot. Uncle Butch plucked the knife from the ground and held it up in front of him.

“It’s okay. That was good for your first try.” He took the fish from her and placed the blade into the cut she had started. “Let me show you the proper way to do it.” He plunged the knife deep into its belly and forced his way up to the head.

“I swear that man doesn’t have a lick of sense sometimes.” She left and I looked back out the window to watch.

“I don’t want those girls around that knife! You hear me?” Aunt Lori said from the porch.

“They’re not going to get hurt,” Uncle Butch said.

“I just watched as Wendy almost lost a toe!”

“You’re exaggerating. Besides, you treat them like they’re babies.”

“And you treat them like they’re adults, and they’re not.” She yelled louder than I have ever heard her. It made me nervous because I had never heard her raise her voice to him before. Everybody stopped talking.

He looked at her for a long while, then turned quickly and plunged the knife into the picnic table. The handle wobbled and then steadied itself.

I thought about Uncle Butch and the fish all day, but I didn’t have to see him again until dinner. Aunt Lori had fried the fish in beer batter and the whole house smelled like fish and grease. Every time I looked at my plate, I saw those dead fish eyes staring up at me. I ate my hushpuppies and corn, but pushed the fish around on my plate. I just couldn’t bring myself to put the fish into my mouth.

“May I be excused?” The fish smell stuck to me like sweat, and I felt the need to shower.

“What is it, honey? Are you still feeling bad?” Aunt Lori asked.

“Yeah.” I rubbed my abdomen. “Cramps.”

“Okay, sweetie, you’re excused.”

Uncle Butch was shoveling fish into his mouth. Then he put his fork down and looked up at me with his black eyes. “Chris, will you get me another beer while you’re up?”

I didn’t move.

“Honey, is everything okay?” Aunt Lori asked.

“No.”

“What is it?” Aunt Lori asked.

I looked hard at Uncle Butch. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was holding his breath, staring at me.

“What is it?” Aunt Lori asked again.

A riot was forming in my head and I couldn’t think. I was going to tell!

But then I remembered what he said about my mother. About how the truth would kill my mother and me becoming an orphan. If I told, it would also hurt my aunt and cousins, spreading the pain even more, changing everyone’s life forever. It just seemed like it would cause a huge ripple effect and we would all drown from the pain that The Monster had caused. Was that fair?

I lost my nerve. “Nothing.”

In his victory of keeping me silent, he said again, “Chris, get me a beer.”

Everyone stopped talking. Aunt Lori sized me up. She looked like she was trying to figure something out about me.

“I’ll get the beer,” Wendy said. She was becoming my protector.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Uncle Butch said.

No one knew what I was feeling. The riot was now blinding me and I left, leaving everyone but Uncle Butch in a state of confusion.

I went to the bathroom to take a shower and to cool off. While in the shower, I clenched my hands into fists. My red painted fingernails looked like drops of blood against my skin.

I soaped up my body, starting with my face and working my way down my body. My face, my arms, my chest.

My thighs.

The thighs that Reds caressed in the pool. The thighs my uncle bruised. I felt so dirty. I scrubbed between my legs, over my thighs again. I repeated the action over and over again as if I could erase the feeling of their touch. Erase what happened. But as hard as I tried, no amount of soap could make me feel clean.