Linked Through Time (10 page)

I opened my mouth to scream and Dave was upon me, smothering my mouth with a crushing kiss that bruised my lips and scraped his teeth against mine. My scream died out, muffled and unheard; the roaring of the fair rides masking any hopes I had of a rescue.

Dave’s hands wrestled with my skirt, pulling on it so hard I could hear the ripping of the seams. I thought hard, trying to focus my rattled brain.
I’d taken self-defense classes as a kid—think!
But, my brain had shut down, all reason and rational thought had vanished when Dave threw me to the ground.
Daddy!
my mind screamed.
Help me!

Dave clamped a handful of my hair in his hand, yanking my head at a harsh angle. “This is your fault, Sarah. You do this to me. Seeing you talking to other boys, you know how I feel about that. What we
agreed
on.”

One of my hands twisted from his grasp and swiped across his face. Nails met flesh and I gouged three distinct tracks into his cheek.

Dave snarled, his mouth lifting in a tight grin.
Was he enjoying this?
I could only guess what his twisted mind was thinking. But my lashing out seemed to be the consent he needed to go ahead with his plan. Grabbing both of my hands into one of his, he held them above my body, trapping my head like a vise. Straddling my legs, he put the bulk of his powerful frame on my thighs and used his free hand to begin undoing the buttons on my shirt.

Helpless, I could do nothing against his brute strength; my mouth silently forming the word “no” against the senseless violation of my body.

A familiar voice cried out somewhere beyond my vision. In my frantic state, the voice sounded blurry and the words ran together, like listening to someone talk under water.

“I mean it, Slater! You better get off her, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

My eight-year-old father stood just beyond Dave, his scrawny shadow mingling with ours on the ground. Ironically, my father had come to save me, just not in the form I had imagined. Anger colored his face a mottled red, and his skinny arms held a fighting stance, fists and all.

Dave didn’t even bother to look up, but his hands paused in their attack. “Get outta here, boy, if you know what’s good for you. Your sister and I are busy doing things your little brain can’t even comprehend. Now take the tickets
I
brought for you and go ride some rides.” Dave’s voice was low and even, the expression on his face cold.

Dean shuffled his feet and swallowed before speaking – his high boyish voice almost comical. “I’m not leaving until Sarah tells me to. Sarah?” Dean’s eyes searched my face, noting the tracks of tears and the fear etched in my features.

Using what strength I could muster, I twisted my body and wrenched my hands free from Dave’s grasp. I pushed Dave to the side and rolled away from him. Surprisingly, he let me go, but not before I saw fire flash deep within his eyes. Brushing my skirt free of grass and straightening my blouse, I tried to keep my fingers from trembling. I didn’t want Dave to see the effect he’d had on me; that he had controlled me and would have beaten me if Dean hadn’t come along.

Unsure if my legs would work, I smoothed my hair and took a tentative step toward Dean. My mind whirled from all that happened; I wouldn’t have even believed it had happened if it weren’t for the hint of a tear in the folds of my skirt and the smudges of dirt on my rumpled shirt.

Cautiously, I moved to Dean’s side, placing my hand on his shoulder for support, thankful for his lean, wiry body. My father’s cheeks puffed in and out, his eyes never moving from Dave’s nonchalant pose on the ground. We backed away together, afraid to turn our backs, as if Dave were some sort of boogie monster instead of a boy.

When we reached the side of the pavilion, I finally found my voice and turned back to Dave. “In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re done. For good this time,” I said, loud enough to make sure he heard.

“Don’t even think about stepping foot on our land,” added Dean, “or me and my brothers will be happy to show you what a shotgun looks like.” My father removed the prized fair tickets he had wanted so badly from his pocket and threw them to the ground in disgust. “There,” he spat out, “now we don’t owe you nothing.”

A weak smile made its way to my lips as we turned away. My father, the knight in shining armor. I thought we’d had the last word, but Dave’s voice called out, deep and menacing.

“We’ll never be done, Sarah.
Never
.”

His words carried a chill straight to my heart and my stomach clenched with dread. Dave’s tone had been definite. It didn’t matter what I wanted, he would stalk me like the prey I was, until he got what he wanted. No wonder Sarah had tried to leave him before. The question was, why did she keep going back?

I kept walking, not bothering to acknowledge Dave’s obvious threat. I was better than that; Sarah deserved better than that. At least I could try and give her that much. 

A low, throaty laugh came from Dave as I walked away. It was a laugh that reminded me of a villain from a spooky movie. Goosebumps popped up on my arms and I shivered.

Threading my arm through Dean’s, we headed for the car, doing everything we could not to look back.

* * * *

Dean didn’t say a word until we were safely in the car. Shakily, I put the keys in the ignition and revved the motor. The car rumbled to life and shook with protest. As I backed out of the grassy parking lot, my eyes nervously flicked from mirror to mirror, certain Dave would appear in the background, haunting my every move.

The further the two of us drove from the fair, the more the reality of the situation sank in. Nausea swirled in my stomach and I felt light-headed. It wasn’t until I saw my father hunched over next to me, sobbing, that I snapped back to the present, grasping for control of my emotions.

“It’s all my fault,” he cried, grinding his fists into his eyes.

Pulling to the side of the road, I reached for him and pulled him into my arms. His skinny frame shook in my arms, the sobs racking his body. I stroked his feather soft hair, and cursed Dave in my mind.

“Shhhh,” I tried to soothe him. “It’s not your fault. How could any of that be your fault? Dave’s a – a total jerk,” I finished, ignoring the choice of words I would have rather used. “And because of you, nothing happened. You saved me, Dean. You
saved
me.” I looked straight into his eyes, hoping he could feel the sincerity and depth of my gratitude.

“No, no, no,” Dean murmured. “I knew it. I saw him. I saw him hit you lots of times, but you always said it was no big deal. You said!” Dean’s frustration escalated to a wail. “I knew he was hurting you, and I didn’t tell anyone. You made me promise!”

Confused by his accusations, I sat back in the seat, my mind whirling with everything I knew and everything I longed to know. Sarah was trapped in an abusive relationship, I thought, my heart aching for the aunt I’d never known. My father was the only one who could see it – see through Dave’s façade. Everyone else thought Dave hung the moon. The years all came together – past and present. So much made sense now; why my father moved so far away from home, why Sarah had taken her life in the river, and maybe… why I’d been sent back in time.

I had been sent back to learn the truth, to set the record straight. And maybe I was supposed to ease my father’s pain, to rid him of the guilt he carried, knowing about the horrible relationship Sarah had suffered.

My father’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained face watched me expectantly. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. What do you say to an eight-year-old who’s been asked to carry the weight of a lie for so long? Sorry didn’t seem appropriate, or enough. Instead, I reached for his hand. “You don’t have to worry any more. I won’t see Dave, talk to Dave, or come within a hundred feet of Dave ever again. OK?”

Dean swallowed and nodded. Turning to face the front, he wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt. We drove to the farm in silence, each coming to grips with the dismal turn of the afternoon.

Ignoring the questioning glances from Gran, I ran straight to my room upon our arrival. Dean waited downstairs. In the small, stuffy bedroom, I stood in front of the mirror, willing myself not to cry. I barely recognized the face before me. My right cheek was puffy and red, and there was a scrape above my eye that I couldn’t remember getting, but knew it had come from fighting off Dave.

Hurriedly, I stripped away my clothes, stashing the ripped skirt beneath my bed until I had time to mend it in private. Another glance in the mirror at my exposed back showed a ripening bruise where Dave had slammed me into the pavilion. Gritting my teeth, I threw a T-shirt over my head, anxious to move on and forget the nightmare that had been my brief relationship with Dave.

Sunlight slanted through the windows of the room, striking the ring on my finger and sending a faint glint onto the wall. The ring. I had to get rid of it. Prying it from my finger, I moved to throw it out the window, but stopped when I reached the cracked sill. I had no right to throw away the ring, even though it belonged to a monster. It was Dave’s mother’s ring and maybe the only thing of hers he had left. I owed him nothing, but when the time was right, I would somehow get the ring back to Dave and be finished with him for good.

Removing one of the loose boards in the bottom of my dresser drawer, I placed the ring inside and covered it up, hoping Louise and Janice wouldn’t find it.

Fixing the ribbon in my hair, I assessed my new and improved reflection. One could barely tell I had been roughed up, even with the glowing marks on my cheek and the tiny gash above my eye. Feeling slightly better, I marched down the stairs to retrieve Dean from the living room.

I had to go back to the fair. The rest of the family would be stranded there without a ride unless I went back. Besides, there was no way I could let Dave ruin the day for my father. I couldn’t let him win; I wouldn’t let him see my fear.

Dean jumped up the moment I entered the room. His eyes searched my face and I gave him a hesitant smile. “Come on, squirt, I still owe you a funnel cake.”

“But I gave the tickets back to Dave,” Dean said, confused.

At the mention of his name, I swallowed the dread I felt creeping up my throat, threatening to choke off my small bit of confidence. Somehow, I managed to shrug, acting as though the day was like any other, with but a minor inconvenience. “Well, then, I guess we’re picking ditches on the way back in.”

Whooping with delight, Dean raced to get his shoes. Thinking of the endless rides ahead on the Tilt-A-Whirl, my stomach gave a lurch. It’s worth it, I thought. If only to see how happy my father can be.

Chapter Nine

New Possibilities

Weeks passed in a strange monotony. I woke automatically each day and did my chores, each time a little easier than before. I avoided anything to do with Dave, staying clear of the rapids or passing by his store, even mentioning his name. Once, he had stopped by while I was in the fields, but Gran, clueless to the situation, sent him away with a promise to extend an invitation for dinner. He had brought flowers, a pathetic gesture of an apology, which I promptly threw to the pigs, happily watching their bold colors get trampled and covered with mud.

The end of July approached quickly; the endless summer nights stretching into the late hours of the day, when all of the siblings, even me, spent any free time we had swimming in the creek or fishing for bullheads. My skin had tanned to a deep brown and the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands were hard and calloused. My arms had become lean and muscled, and I could lift a bale of hay without using my knee and haul a bucket of water without spilling a drop. I barely thought of my life in the future – what was the point? I never sat down from dawn until dusk, except for meals, and when the day came to a close, I collapsed wearily into bed, no longer hearing Louise snore like a chainsaw.

I had almost forgotten about the day that was quickly approaching – the day of Sarah’s death. I felt no reason to be afraid; I just figured I wasn’t going to let it happen. Avoiding the rapids was easy, and escaping fate turned out not to be the dreaded task I had imagined. I trusted that this was all I had to do to achieve my pass back to normal life. In the recesses of my mind, however, doubts formed. Keeping busy kept me from getting stressed about it too much. After all, there wasn’t much in my control –what could I do?

One late summer night, the older siblings and I hauled a tarp out to the woods and set up a makeshift camp next to a shallow, winding creek. Dean, Matthew and Patrick wrestled in the water, leaving me to relax on the shore. Suddenly, the boys turned on me, united in their quest for a victim. Screeching, I hopped from my seat and scampered higher into the brush, but not before Matthew clamped a hand on my ankle, dragging me with ease toward the frigid water. Dean and Patrick jumped in, tugging at my arms and shirt, making sure I was pulled all the way in, getting a complete dunking.

Sputtering and swinging, I sprung from the water like a mad cat, clawing the air for a piece of my attackers. Tackling Matthew at the knees, I watched with glee as he flew backwards into the water, his mouth open in surprise. Patrick and Dean ran from the water and hid in the bushes, escaping the wrath of my attack.

Wiping the hair from my eyes, I shot the two boys an icy look. “You’d better sleep with one eye open tonight,” I threatened, a hint of a grin inching onto my face. “And you better know how to start a fire, because there’s no way I’m sleeping out here in wet clothes.”

Mimicking my bossy tone, Dean and Patrick came out from the bushes, satisfied my spree of vengeance was over. Matthew, who sat sprawled in the water, spouted water from his mouth in my direction. “Is that all you got?” he teased, aching to go another round. No doubt he wanted revenge after being taken down by a
girl
.

Bobby and Louise emerged from the woods, arms full of firewood. They took one look at my dripping, sloshing figure and burst into laughter.

I smirked. “Next time, I get wood duty,” I complained. “I’m tired of babysitting Larry, Curly, and Moe.”

Bobby and Louise looked at me funny, having no idea who I was talking about. Bobby dropped his sticks into a heap and groaned. “Thanks a lot, guys. You probably scared all the fish away. So much for dinner.”

The three boys, who had continued thrashing and wrestling in the water without me, paused in their attack. “Nah, Louise packed sandwiches. I saw them,” Patrick said, before grabbing Matthew around the neck and pulling him under.

Bobby looked up from the sticks he had stacked in a teepee fashion. Thin wisps of smoke were already floating into the air from somewhere within. “I don’t know what happened to you, Sarah, but whatever it was, I’m glad. It’s good to have you here… with us.” Bobby looked back into the fire, concentrating on building the flame.

I said nothing. I wasn’t sure what kind of life I was supposed to be living in Sarah’s place, but I was trying to do what felt right. Despite the awful beginning and my resistance to the traditional way, I had slowly grown accustomed to the farm life; even enjoying some of it – except the outhouse. I didn’t think I could ever get used to the outhouse.

I couldn’t make excuses for Sarah, but I knew what she was going through. Being trapped in an abusive relationship could do terrible things to a person; nobody in the family knew what was going on except Dean. They only saw Sarah’s distant behavior as a result of her teen rebelliousness and ambition to leave the farm life. If they only knew, they could have helped her,
talked her out of suicide. She might have lived!

Entranced in the beginnings of the fire’s flame, I scarcely noticed the loud raucous behavior of the boys had come to a standstill. The unnatural quiet finally broke the hypnotic spell and I looked up, confused.

The three boys stood still, as if carved from ice. Their hands had paused in their mock chokeholds and the only motion from their bodies came from the water streaming down their lanky bodies. Louise and Bobby sat motionless, eyes suspicious and unwavering, watching something that had appeared behind my back. Even the cricket’s song had vanished, leaving the woods in an ominous quiet.

My mouth went dry. Was it a bear? A wolf?

Finally, Bobby shifted and I heard someone cough.

“What are you doing here?” Bobby asked, his voice not bothering to hide his contempt.

A rustling of leaves and the snap of twigs gave the intruder away. “I was looking for Sarah. Your mom said I would find you all out here.”

Without looking, I recognized the soft, gentle voice. Travis. Travis from the fair. What was he doing here? Cringing at the thought of my appearance, I turned slowly to greet him, grateful for the darkening skies that hid my flushed cheeks.

“Mind if I join you?” Travis asked, motioning to the ground next to me.

I merely nodded my head, unable to find my voice.

“I didn’t think you ‘townies’ knew how to find your way in the woods,” Bobby said, without a hint of joking in his tone.

Travis took a deep breath. “I’m not here to start anything, Bobby. I just wanted to spend some time with your sister,” he replied, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Bobby grumbled under his breath and grabbed one of the fishing poles he’d brought from the house. In the creek, the three boys, still frozen in stature, jumped back into their wrestling with a renewed frenzy, after realizing there wouldn’t be a fight. Yet.

I smoothed my hair, trying to finger comb the clumps of wet ringlets. Curling into a ball, I tried covering myself up as much as possible.

Travis squatted low to the ground and ran his hands over his face in a tired gesture. He turned to me, the glow of the fire bright in his dark eyes. “Sorry, Sarah. I hope it’s OK that I came to see you. It is OK, isn’t it? I heard about you and Dave breaking it off, and I figured enough time had passed. Was I wrong?” He looked so uncomfortable that I had to laugh.

“It’s fine,” I murmured, pleased that he had come and perplexed why he would bother to find me. Studying his features, I felt my pulse jump into overdrive. I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth, his upper lip shaped like a tiny heart right in the middle, and his eyes, the ring of gold around the center even more pronounced in the firelight. His boyish face was everything I remembered, kind and honest, trustworthy.

Travis sighed. “Ever since I moved here, it’s like I stepped back in time to some twisted version of the Civil War. Town kids versus farm kids. We’re not supposed to be together; like we’re from two separate worlds. The truth is, I’ve wanted to date you for some time, but everyone talked me out of it. And then there was Dave, he never let anyone near you. When I heard about the two of you breaking up, I figured what was the worst that could happen if we ended up together? I knew I had to tell you how I felt, before it was too late.”

I absorbed Travis’s words. Inching closer to the fire, I tried to make it seem like I wasn’t getting closer to him. The truth of the matter was, I was cold. My wet clothing clung to my skin and the breeze had picked up. I shivered.
Town kids vs. farm kids? Interesting
–
like some sort of West Side Story plot, and I got to be Maria. Hopefully this love story wouldn’t end in a shootout.

Travis’s last words stuck in my head. “What did you mean by ‘before it’s too late’? I’m not going anywhere.” I laughed, spreading my arms out, indicating the vast surrounding wilderness. An alarm bell sounded in the back of my mind as Sarah’s death came floating to the surface of my thoughts.

Ducking his head, Travis seemed to be searching for the right words. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but people talk about you and Dave. About your relationship. I was afraid you might go back to him. It’s kind of your pattern.”

I nodded, not really knowing what he was talking about, but guessing it was Sarah’s weakness of being stuck in an endless abusive relationship to a guy as forceful and domineering as Dave.

“I could be that guy, Sarah. The one you’re looking for.” Travis grabbed my hand, leaning over to look into my face. “I would treat you right – you would never have to worry about me…” He trailed off, as if afraid to finish the sentence.

“About you, what?” I pried, wanting him to confirm what I feared about Dave Slater.

“I would never hit you, Sarah,” Travis whispered, his eyes expressing every ounce of pain he imagined I had experienced.

The air suddenly felt too heavy to breathe, the weight of the conversation hanging there like something so real it could be touched. The effortless honesty in Travis’s words had me flustered and intimidated. How many boys talked this easily and up front with girls? He knew. Apparently, a lot of people knew about Dave’s… personality.

I thought about the first time I had met Travis. His effect on me was not some powerful spark like the first time I met Dave, but more subtle, a sort of warmth like stepping into sunshine. His presence wasn’t overwhelming or electric, but gradual, like I was sitting there with an old friend. My heart opened up to him, so grateful to be able to spend time with someone who knew more of Sarah’s story – dark secrets and all. I liked Travis. Of course, him being completely adorable only added to his appeal.

“I’m glad you came,” I said. “Don’t worry about what people think.” I nodded at the boys by the creek. “They’re a little overprotective. And everyone else, they’re just plain ignorant,” I added, referring to the divide between the town and farm kids. “If you really like someone, that’s all that matters, right?” Even as I said it, I could easily name a hundred stories of forbidden love gone wrong –
Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story, The Bronx Tale, Helen of Troy, etc.

Travis shrugged. “I guess so.” He ran his fingers up my arm over the obvious presence of goose bumps. “Are you really that cold?” He laughed. “Or are you that excited to see me?”

For a moment, I froze, imagining Dave’s hands groping and bruising my body. Training my eyes on Travis’s face, I absorbed the kindness emanating from the depths of his eyes. Suddenly, it wasn’t just the fire keeping me warm any more. “Trust me, you don’t want to find out how cold the water is,” I replied, removing my arm from his hand. I had to slow things down. I didn’t want to get caught up in my emotions and fail to see Travis for who he was.

Travis spent the rest of the night talking, filling the silence I couldn’t help but supply. I listened to his stories and laughed at his crazy antics, as he imitated teachers I’d never met. When the moon sat high in the sky, its powerful light playing down between the intertwining limbs of the surrounding trees, Travis yawned and grinned sheepishly.

“I guess I’d better go. Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked, not bothering to hide his eagerness.

I frowned. I liked Travis, but I knew how my family would feel about him and his presence. Family and chores first – my healing backside could easily remind me of that. “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “Gran... er, Dad doesn’t like it if I miss out on chores or anything. I think tomorrow we’re supposed to haul wood all day.”

“Great! I’ll come and help. Make it go faster. Then maybe your dad will let me take you out to dinner.” His eyes challenged me to come up with another excuse.

Eyeing his pressed pants and collared shirt, I doubted his ability when it came to physical labor. His hands probably didn’t even have one callous or blister. Who am I to judge? I was in the same boat not too long ago, I reminded myself. “Um… sure. That would be great,” I replied, smiling at his enthusiasm. Wait until he sees the pile the size of a house we had to stack
.

His goofy grin, framed in his trademark dimples, sent my heart skipping. He was too easy to like.
Be careful, Kate.

Travis stood, brushing the dirt from his pants. “I hope I can find my way back,” he joked, although I swore I could hear a hint of seriousness in his tone.

Dean, always the protector, appeared from the dense brush like a flash of lightning. “I’ll walk you back,” he offered, standing rigid and firm, leaving no room for argument.