July 4, 1989
The sea was near. Though she couldn’t see it, she smelled the salt air and heard its roar as it hit the rocks close by. The branches around her held scary shadows. The forest was thick here, and she put her hand on the rough bark of a tree that smelled like Christmas. Mommy had told her to stay far away from the rocks.
But which way are they?
It was too dark to tell. She was afraid to move for fear she’d tumble off a cliff. All she’d wanted to do was go fishing.
She strained to hear her mother’s voice, but only noises like screeches and rustling little things in the grass came to her ears. Tears hovered in her eyes and closed her throat. She swiped the back of her hand across her face. Daddy always said crying wouldn’t fix anything. It would just make her head hurt.
Mommy would be so upset when she saw her torn dress. Daddy had bought it for her, and he would be angry when he saw her mud-splattered tights and patent leather shoes. Somewhere she’d lost the bow in her hair, and stringy locks hung in her eyes. There was something on the ground, and she stopped and picked it up. A lady’s scarf that smelled of flowers. She bunched it in her hand and stepped over an umbrella in her path.
She stopped and cocked her head. Voices? Even though the angry words were just a mumble, she shivered at how mad he sounded. Then she heard a woman’s voice, and she moved toward it. The woman would help her. It might even be Mommy.
Tree needles slapped her in the face and made her want to cry even more. But she was a big girl now. Daddy said only babies cried. She pressed her lips together and planted a muddy shoe atop a small shrub to move closer to the voices.
As she peered through the leaves, she saw two figures struggling in the forest. She couldn’t see their faces, but the smaller figure fell to the ground, and the man leaped on top of her with his hands at her throat.
“Stop hurting her!” Her eyes widened as soon as the cry left her mouth.
The man turned, and she saw a red pelt tied to his belt. The pointy nose hung at his knees, and she felt dizzy when she saw the red fur. She whirled around and ran as fast as she could, but the steps behind her grew closer. Her climbing tree was just ahead. She grabbed for the limb, and her hand went into the hiding place. She wished it was big enough for her to crawl into herself. She left the scarf in the hole, then reached up for the lowest branch. Her fingers missed and she staggered forward.
Then a hand smacked the middle of her back, and she went tumbling into the pine needles.