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Authors: Adrienne Wilder

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BOOK: JACK
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“You could have been killed, you know.” Elliot sat down on the toilet lid.

The water in the tub made my cuts burn and the bruises throb. Cleaning away the dirt made them glow. “I don’t care.” I hunched over and put my arms around my knees.

Elliot picked up the wash cloth, dipped it into the warm water, and then squeezed it out over my head. He kept on until the soap was rinsed out of my hair.

“I hate her.” And I meant it.

“Don’t say that, she’s your sister.”

“I hate her! I wish she’d died instead of Momma.” He shushed me, petting my hair. “Why do the good people die, El, why?” My tears joined the cloudy bathwater.

Elliot picked up a towel. “Here, dry off. You can wear some of my clothes.”

I didn’t want to get dressed, I wanted to disappear.

He shook the towel at me. “Please, Jack, don’t do this to yourself. I know you two don’t get along but you gotta try. Your Momma’s gone and Emma is in charge. You can’t make waves or you’re going to wind up like me.”

“She told me I was a girl.”

“You are a girl.”

I glared at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Just play along for a few years. When you go away to college you can do what you want. It’s the only way you can escape.”

Escape. How many times did we hide in Elliot’s fort out back behind his daddy’s workshop and talked about when he could escape? He’d go to college and never come back. Then Elliot met Mikey and El’s parents found out. They kicked him out with nothing. He didn’t even get to take his belongings, let alone any money to go to college. Now they was trapped here working at the corner grocery until they could save enough to move.

I knew with Emma in charge there would be no college for me either. I had no idea what was going to happen, but Emma had control of Momma’s savings, and she’d chosen to spend most of it on a rose-colored box.

Elliot touched my cheek. “It’s only for a little while. Just a few more years.”

But I couldn’t pretend that long. I didn’t know how. Momma never made me pretend. She never asked me to be anything but who I was.

How could I explain that to Elliot? How could I make him understand how my world disappeared the day my momma died? I didn’t know how to dance like a marionette, my strings pulled, my arms, legs, soul not mine to command.

El ran a hand over my head, pushing back the hair from my eyes. “I know you miss her.”

He had no idea. No one did. And I had no idea how to live without her.

The bathroom door opened and Mikey held out a bundle of fabric while keeping his gaze averted. “I washed your things.”

“You’re not gonna go blind, Mikey. Quit acting like a dick.” El snatched the strips of cloth out of Mikey’s hand and put them on the sink. “Do you need help?”

“No.” I had a lot of practice over the years with getting the bindings on.

I stood up and Elliot wrapped the towel around me. “I think you should let me put some ointment on these cuts.

“I’m fine.”

“They could get infected.” It ached when he touched a deep gash on my shoulder where the gravel had struck me.

“I’ll be fine. Just get me some clothes so I can get dressed.”

I wrapped my chest while staring down at myself. Unlike the top half of my body, which felt invaded by something which didn’t belong, the space between my legs felt empty. The boys at school started taunting me a couple of years ago, asking me if I was ready for the flood. I had no idea what they meant, so I asked Momma. She’d told me about all the changes that happen to a female body. As if breasts weren’t bad enough, I had bleeding to look forward to.

This year the boys I’d always fished with no longer wanted to be around me, and the girls began calling me names. It was like overnight I’d become some sort of freak, some sort of oddity to be stared at and talked about.

I had the bindings in place when Elliot brought me some clothes. The pants were a little big in the waist and I had to roll up the legs some, but they fit as good as anything from the Goodwill. The shirt was better so I doubt it fit him anymore.

When I came out into the kitchen Mikey had made sandwiches. The kitchen was the oldest part of the house and it showed. With the room off square, the floor had a distinct dip and it felt like I was walking down hill. It sagged so bad, one of the cabinets over the stove wouldn’t stay closed and Mikey kept having to push it out of the way so he wouldn’t hit his head.

He put out a plate for me on the table. “Turkey on wheat with extra mayo. You still eat it like that, right?”

I nodded.

Elliot spoke around a bite of sandwich. “Do you want to call Emma?”

“No.” I didn’t want to call anyone. I pulled out a chair across from him.

“She’s gonna worry about you.”

“I don’t care.”

Mikey came over with a cup of coffee and sat down next to Elliot. I couldn’t help but be jealous. Mikey had everything I wanted. Who I wanted. The day I tried to kiss Elliot and he refused to let me was the day it dawned on me I wasn’t really a boy.

Like I said, Momma never told me otherwise. I took a bite of sandwich and tried not to let my envy show. The older I got, the harder it was to deal with my feelings. I mean, who would kiss me? Who would ever want to? I had boobs and no cock, just a blank space which looked wrong.

Mikey watched me and I could tell he wanted to say something. He had expressive eyes when he wasn’t hiding them under his bangs.

“What is it?” I said.

He fumbled with the bread on his sandwich. “What if she calls the police?”

“Who?”

“Emma. What if she calls the cops and they come here looking for you?” Mikey had a right to be scared. He still walked with a limp from a run in with the cops up north where he was from.

Elliot watched Mikey for a moment and then said, “It’ll be fine. Why would the cops come looking here anyhow?” It was obvious why they would look here. Everyone in town knew he was my best friend. El pushed my plate closer to me. “Eat your sandwich.”

I didn’t. “He’s right, I should go.”

“And where are you going to go?”

Yeah, where? No money. No transportation. I sat there with my hands in my lap trying to figure out what I could do.

I looked at Mikey, and then Elliot. They was so happy. In spite of all the hardships they was perfect. They had each other and I had no one. The only person who’d ever loved me, understood me, was buried in the Sunshine Hill Cemetery. I was alone now and I did not want to be alone.

I stood up and so did Elliot. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, Mikey’s right. I better get home before Emma sends the law out. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Knowing Emma she’d make trouble.

Elliot followed me to the door. “You don’t have to.”

“I do.”

Elliot’s hand touched my cheek and his worried gaze begged me to confide in him. I used to confide in him all the time when we were younger. I don’t think he realized how much time he didn’t have for me since he’d met Mikey.

“What do you want me to do with the dress? I don’t think it can be saved.”

Tattered, torn, stained, I didn’t think it could be saved either. I didn’t want the dress, even if it could be made good as new. “Burn it in the trash barrel.”

Outside a light mist fell, clinging to the grass and trees, forming tiny wet diamonds. The cool air tamed the heat in my cheeks. I stopped at the top step and the planks sighed behind me. Elliot’s hand brushed my shoulder. “Are you going to be all right?”

No. How could I? “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“You should probably go back in. He’ll be worried that you’ll talk me into staying.”

“I want to talk you into staying.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“He just worries about you.” Because Mikey loved him.

“I know.” El kissed me on the temple and sighed into my hair. “God, Jack. We’re a messed up bunch, aren’t we?”

He was right. We were. I stepped off the porch and headed toward the road.

Chapter Two
 

There was a police car in the driveway when I got home. Lights were on in the living room. Gold puddles spilled out on the gloomy porch. At the end of the porch there was an empty space where momma’s bench swing used to be. All the hanging baskets that used to hang from the roof had been stuffed into garbage bags. Emma left the hummingbird feeder. I didn’t understand how she could have something against flowers and not birds.

I saw Emma through the door. She was clinging to Jonathan, while Bill Straus scribbled in a notebook he held. Billy graduated the year I started high school and went into the force before the ink dried on his diploma. He was so short and scrawny his uniform looked like a sack on him. Billy was lucky Sheriff Berry let him carry a gun. If Billy ran into any bad guys he’d need it to protect himself.

The screen door creaked when I opened it and everyone in the living room looked my way.

Emma made a strangled sound and flung herself at me when I stepped inside, sobbing and petting me. “Oh my God, where have you been? I was about to file a missing person’s report.” She fondled my hair and picked at my shirt. Her eyes flashed and anger made her gaze hard.

“I assume you’re okay then, Ms. Jacqueline?” Billy said.

“Jack. And yeah, I’m fine.”

His smile faltered and his gaze went to Jonathan, who watched me with a mix of boredom and anger.

Billy closed his note book. “Well, since she’s home, I’m going to head on out.”

Emma sniffled and wiped away her fake tears. “How can we ever thank you, Officer Straus?”

He tipped his hat. “I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

“Are you sure you won’t stay for dinner?” She didn’t mean it. Emma couldn’t even cook.

Billy smiled, flashing the gap between his teeth. “No ma’am, that won’t be necessary. I need to get back up the road. Palmer’s cows got out again and are wandering all over the highway.” Billy’s gaze came to where I stood at the bottom of the steps. His grin softened into a smile. “In spite of the circumstances today, I thought you looked very pretty.”

I stared at my muddy feet.

“What do you say, Jacqueline?” Emma took a step toward me. I could see her fingers itching with the urge to pinch me good.

“Thank you, sir.”

Bill cleared his throat and straightened his hat. “So we’re good then? No more running off?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl.”

Phillip and Emma saw Billy out and I escaped upstairs to my room. I flopped back on my bed, trying to lose myself in the folds of the quilts. I pulled a pillow over and buried my face in it. All I wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up again. At least in my dreams momma could be alive and well.

My bedroom door opened and I sat up. Emma walked in and shut the door.

I glared. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“Where is your dress?”

“I don’t have a dress.”

“Don’t be smart. You know what I mean. The dress I bought you. The dress you wore to Momma’s funeral.”

“I took it off.”

“Where is it?”

“I lost it.”

“That dress cost me fifty dollars.”

“I never asked you to buy it.”

“I bought it for Momma, not for you!”

“And Momma would have never made me wear it!”

I thought for a second or two she was gonna hit me again.

Emma’s gaze scanned my room. “Maybe we should go to the mall.”

“What?” It took me a second or two to realize what she’d said. “Why?”

“You need a new bedroom suite. Something to soften up this space.”

“I don’t want a new bedroom suite.” I liked my dark blue curtains and mahogany furniture. Momma and me picked it out.

“Something light green or maybe peach colored. We could get some of those white sheer curtains to let the light in.” Emma walked around touching my things with a dreamy expression on her face.

I wanted to poke her eyes out. “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t want a new room!”

“We could get your hair done while we’re out. You’d be amazed how wonderful and beautiful you can feel after a trip to the salon. You could even get a manicure.” She laughed and I thought of hyenas. “We could make it an all day thing. Just you and me. My treat.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Saturday will be perfect!” Her hands came together with a clap.

“I’m busy.”

“We’ll go early. Get to the mall first thing. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they’re having a sale and we could find you a few new dresses?”

New dresses? She never listened and when she did listen she never heard me. I jumped off the bed, ran out of my room to the hall bathroom, and locked the door behind me.

Mall. Beauty shop. Nails. Hair.

I didn’t want a stupid day out with her. I didn’t want any of those things! All I wanted was my momma back and my life to be happy again.

Emma jiggled the doorknob and said my name.

“Go away.”

“Come out here right now, young lady.”

Lady. I’d show that bitch. I’d show all of them. I’d make her never want to take me to the mall. Never want me to wear a dress. Never call me a girl.

I jerked open the drawer under the sink and grabbed the hair cutting scissors Momma kept inside.

“Jacqueline, what are you doing in there?”

“None of your business!”

Emma called for Jonathan. Her voice faded away and her footsteps made soft thumps against the hardwood.

The scissors felt heavy in my hand. I opened the handles and the gleaming blades whispered. I gathered up a wad of brown curls on my head and chopped it off, getting as close to my scalp as possible. I kept going until the only thing left was a butchered mess of bangs. Skinned in some places, longer in others, I looked like I had a bad case of the mange. Momma had really liked my hair and that was the only reason I’d ever let it grow long.

Emma knocked on the door again. “Jacqueline?”

“I told you to go away.”

The door knob rattled again. “Open this door right now, do you hear me? Right now!”

“No.”

This time it Phillip knocked. “Jacqueline, you’re upsetting your sister. Open this door right now and come out here so she won’t worry.”

BOOK: JACK
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