Skin Deep

'What was mainly his daddy?'

'Toby was the only boy. He had two older sisters, but he was the only boy. He was his daddy's favorite.' She paused and took another drink.

'And?'

'And Daddy just loved to beat up on the girls. He drank a lot, and the only thing that really made him happy when he was smashed was knocking the little woman around. It didn't make much difference which little woman, his wife or Toby's sisters, although I guess his wife got the worst of it. She definitely did after the girls left.'

'When did they leave?'

'Soon as they could. They went off to Sioux Falls or Bismarck, or wherever you go in South Dakota, and got jobs or husbands or something. That left just Toby and his daddy and his mommy.'

'His father never took it out on him?'

'Oh, no. He was always the favorite. Daddy's boy. He took Toby hunting and fishing, all those smelly macho things, but he was terrible to Toby's mother and the girls. Sometimes Toby said he used to be bad just to get his daddy to whop him once in a while instead of the girls.'

'Bad like what?'

'Oh, I don't know. Killing chickens and stuff. Leaving the barn door open in the middle of winter. But it didn't seem to matter what he did, old Daddy would just pat him on the head and say what a great little dude he was. Then he'd go belt the women.'

'And the women never fought back?'

'No. That was what drove Toby crazy. They'd just take it and take it, until they could run away. And then they ran away.'

'But his mother couldn't run away.'

'I guess not. I would have been out of there at the speed of light.'

'But Toby's as bad as his father, and you kept going out with him.'

She took a long swallow of beer. 'Maybe we'll talk about that later,' she said, 'and maybe not. Like you said, we were talking about Toby.'

'Okay, so his sisters left. How old was he then?'

'Nine or ten.'

'And he remembers all of this?'

'He remembers everything. Like he had it on home movies.'

'Or Polaroids,' I said.

She put the bottle down and looked out through the window at nothing happening in the parking lot. 'You know about that?'

'I've seen them.'

'I'll tell you about that later, too.' She picked at the wet label on the beer bottle with a long nail. 'Maybe.'

'Up to you. Toby's alone now with just his mother and his father.'

'Yeah. Then it got worse. Toby says his dad used to chase her around the house with a belt, just cracking it down on her back while she yelled for help. She never turned and tried to take the belt away. She never ran outdoors. Maybe it was snowing.'

'That upset Toby.'

'Sure. He kept thinking that one day she'd just clobber him. The old man was always pretty drunk when it happened, Toby said. He figured she could have taken him if she'd really tried. He still doesn't understand why she didn't.'

'So what happened?'

She drained her beer. 'This is the bad part,' she said.

'It's already pretty bad.'

'I think I'd like another beer.'

'Fine.' I waved at the waitress, who took the order with an air of disbelief. We waited in silence until the bottles landed on the table, and then we hoisted them in unison. Nana wiped her lips on the back of her hand and put her bottle down.

'Now Toby's about ten,' she said. 'They're all in the kitchen, right? They always ate dinner in the kitchen. The old man was stewed, as usual, and there was something wrong with the dinner. Well, maybe there wasn't, but he said there was, you know?'

I nodded.

'So he popped her. But this time he did it with his fist. And then he hit her again. Toby says he remembers the blood coming down from her nose. He said he was screaming at his daddy and dancing around the kitchen, trying to get in between them, but his father just brushed him away and went on hitting his mother. His mother was on the floor, and his daddy kicked her. A couple of times, he thinks. And Toby kept screaming at her to get up and screaming at his daddy to stop, but it just went on and on.'

'What did he do?' I asked.

'He got a knife, a bread knife, I think, and went after his daddy. Can you imagine? This grown woman on the floor, bleeding and crying, and this little kid waving a bread knife at his father. So, naturally, the old man took the knife away and smacked the kid around. I mean, he was only ten. And then he grabbed Toby by the neck and said to his wife, 'Go get the clothesline.' '

I felt a shiver run down my back. 'The clothesline,' I said.

'Yeah. And figure this. She did it. She hauled herself up from the floor, all covered in blood, and went and got the clothesline from the backyard and brought it back in. She gave it to him and then went back to the table and sat down. She didn't say anything, Toby said. She just sat there and cried, the damn sap.'

'What happened with the clothesline?'

'Toby's daddy used it to tie Toby to the stove. First he tore off Toby's shirt, and then he tied him with his back to the side of the stove. Then he said something like 'You made a mistake, son,' and he turned on all the burners and both ovens. Then he grabbed his wife and made her stand up, and he said to Toby, 'We'll come back when the stove is red hot. We'll come back when we smell you cooking.' And then they both went away, into the living room or somewhere.'

'Jesus,' I said.

'Jesus was on shore leave. Toby said he waited. He could feel the stove warming up, but he still waited. He thought his mother would come in and get him, you see. He kept trying to pull the skin on his back away from the stove, but the ropes were too tight. His father could always tie a good knot, he said.'

We both drank.

'After about a half hour, but who knows, it could have been less, he started to yell. He really thought he was going to get cooked, and Mommy wasn't going to help. Well, they let him yell. Then they let him scream. The stove kept getting hotter, he said. Finally, when he'd screamed his voice away, his daddy came into the kitchen and picked up the bread knife. Toby thought he was going to die right then, but the old man just leaned down and cut the clothesline. And then do you know what he said?'

'What?' I felt sick.

'He said, 'Stupid. Don't you know stoves don't get red hot?' Then he went away and left Toby sitting on the kitchen floor with his back to the stove, crying. Only he didn't have any voice left to cry with, so it was just air, you know? Just air.'

'Let's get out of here.' I gestured for the check.

'Poor little kid,' she said. She looked down at the table- cloth, and when she looked up again, her eyes were wet. 'Poor little idiot kid. Kids are so dumb.'

'They're surrounded by monsters,' I said. I put some money on the table.

'There really are monsters,' she said. 'They tell us that there aren't, but there really are. And they're all people.'

'Come on. I'll take you home. There aren't any monsters at home.'

She wiped her eyes on her napkin. 'Promise?' she said.

'Promise. Let's go.'