The Mute and the Liar (87 page)

I
know
she’s
not
talking
to
me.
She’s
still
talking to Father. But
s
he
w
as
yelling.
L
oudly.
And
I
didn’t
like
it.
And
so,
like
the
typical
eight-
year-old
I
am,
I
start
crying.
Or
howling,
to
be
more
precise.
At
the
top
of
my
voice,
infused
with
deliberately
loud
gasps for air
to
really
hit
home
that
I
am,
in
fact,
crying,
and
that
someone
needs
to
do
something
about
it,
preferably
hug
me, fuss over me and dab my face with tissues.

To
my
great
surprise,
none
of
those
things
happen,
so
I
start
screaming
even
louder.

Mum
does
head
towards
me.
I
outstretch
my
arms,
expecting
to
be
hugged,
but
she
pushes
past
me,
through
the
doorway
and
straight
downstairs.
I
run
after
her,
a
little
excited,
wondering
where
she
is
going.
I
see
her
opening
the
door
to
the
garden.
I
don’t
notice
that
she’s
still
carrying
the gun.

I’m
slow
at
running. It’s
a
pain
in
the
ass,
especially
when
I
have
to
do
PE
at
school.
But
the
fact
that
I
am
slow
at
running
was
a
good
thing
that
day.
It
meant
I
didn’t
see
it
when
it
happened.
I
heard
the
gunshot
just
as
I
was
heading
downstairs.

When
I
got
outside,
she
was
already
lying
on
the
floor,
but
her
hair
was
covering
the
blood,
so
at
first
I
didn’t
notice
anything.
I
picked
up
the
gun,
just
to
admire
it.
It’s
a
kid
thing,
you
must
have
seen
the
way
they
investigate
new,
unfamiliar
objects
with
such
care
and
intensity
it’s
as
thought
they
are
examining
potential
alien
life forms.

I can’t remember exactly
what I was thinking
when
I
saw
her.
Suddenly
Father
was
behind
me.
He
moved
slowly,
head
hung
low.
“
What...
What
did
you
do?
”
And
then
he
collapsed
next
to
her,
howling
with
tears.

*****

“
I didn’t kill
he
r
.
I
know that’s
not what you
want
to
hear.
I
know
you
think
it
was
some
huge
plot,
some
huge
case,
what
you
deal
with
every
day.
But
this
is
something
you
couldn’t
have
stopped.
I
didn’t
even
see
it
happen.
I
just
heard
the
gunshot
when
I
was
running
down
the
s
tairs.
She
was
already dead
when
I
got
outside.
”

“
You’re lying
to
me! You
murdered
her,
didn’t
you?
You
killed her!
”

He
has
been
thinking
about
this
for
so
long.
For
him
to
go
through
all
of
this
just
to
try
and
find
out
what
happened
to
her..
Her
death
must
have
completely
killed
his
rationality
and
infected
his
mind.
It's
probably
the
only
thing
he
has
been
thinking
about
for
years
and
years.

“
Do
you
know
what
the
sad
part
is
in
all
this?
You
know.
You
know
I
wouldn’t
have
done
that,
that
I
loved
my
Mum
more
than
anything.
How
could
I
have
wrestled
the
gun
out
of
her
hands
and
shot
her
?
I
was
eight
for
Christ’s
sake.
”
I
almost
smile
as
I
say
this.
Until
now
my
voice
has
been
croaky
and
raspy
and
off
key,
the
way
anyone’s
voice
would
be
if
they
hadn’t
spoken
for
so
long.
But
I
can
hear
I’ve
gotten
better,
and
when
I
said
that,
it
almost
sounded…
powerful.
My
voice
has
finally
settled,
becoming
steadier
and
self-assured.
I
feel
fifty
feet
tall.
And
my
father,
hunched
over
in
front
of
me,
avoiding
my
eyes,
looks
ant-size.

“
You
conjured
up
this
whole
stupid,
ridiculous,
ill-thought
out
plan
,
full
of
gaping
holes
and
inconsistencies.
You
involved
so
many
people
and
put
them
in
danger
.
You
risked
my
life…
Jayce
threatened
to
kill
me
several
times.
All
of
this...
just
to
find
out
something
you
already
knew.
”
In
fact,
I
think
I
understand
now.
It
makes
sense.
I
stare
him
down,
and
he looks
away
and
stares
at
the
ground,
head
hung
low,
looking
defeated.
“
Do you
know
what?
You
just
can’t
cope
with
the
guilt
knowing
that
it
was
you
who
killed
Mum.
You treated
her badly
and so
we
lost
her.
”

He
looks
up
jut
for
a
moment
to
flicker
briefly
at
the
gun
in
my hands.
I
smile
and
reach
one-handed
for
the
phone
on
the
side
table
next to me, keeping the gun steady with my other hand.