he’s home.”
“Do you feel the same way about me?” I asked Petra. “Do you feel sad when I’m around?” I made a pouting face at Petra.
“No, silly,” she responded, shaking her head and grinning. “I’m happy when you’re around.”
Lucky was looking wistfully at the three of us. I knew he hadn’t had an easy life. He always sidestepped questions about his family. He had told me a number of times how much he would one day love to have a family like mine. I told him I almost never had it myself. That if Fielda hadn’t thrown that muffin at me, I would most likely be a lonely old man. He laughed at that, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Can I have that?” Petra indicated the maraschino cherry that Lucky had pushed to the side of the sundae.
“Of course,” he answered and he scraped it up with his spoon and popped it into her open mouth. “Yeah,” Lucky said, shaking his head as if remembering something, “I wouldn’t let Petra anywhere near Griff Clark.”
I readily agreed. In that brief moment in the school corridor between Griff Clark and his family, I saw that one percent of meanness that people like him accidentally show to the world at large. It frightens me, what he could be capable of, what he may have done to my daughter. I shiver, something I think is impossible in ninety-degree weather. But then, of course, anything is possible now.
I make my way back to Mrs. Norland’s home, trying to compose the words I will need to say to Antonia and to Deputy Louis in order to convince them to accompany me into the woods.
CALLI
“Calli.” She heard the voice, calm, almost loving, but the same fear that pressed against her throat moments before returned. Griff was standing over her, gray-faced and ill-looking.
“Calli, let’s stop this nonsense. Come on over here. Let’s go home. Don’t you wanna see…” His voice trailed off as he stepped closer to Calli and he ingested the scene in front of him. First Petra’s battered head, discolored face and neck. He looked again to Calli.
“Jesus, what happened? Jesus, Calli, what happened to her?”
Calli stood silently, weighing her options. Which way to go? The deep ravine behind her, Griff in front of her, barring her passageway.
“Calli,” he barked sharply. “What happened here? Tell me!” He roughly grabbed her shoulder, but let go when he noticed something among the thistles. He bent down to retrieve it, held it in his fingers, a dirtied ripped rag, white with dainty yellow flowers.
“Jesus,” he said, looking to Petra again. His eyes traveled down her motionless form, the dirty blue pajama top, her naked bruised legs, speckled with blood.
“Jesus,” he repeated. Griff turned swiftly and retched, bitter, yellow bile spewed from his throat. He breathed in deeply, but gagged again, loud, croaking, dry heaves followed, but nothing more came forth.
Calli took this opportunity, with Griff hunched over clutching at his cramping stomach, to slide down the bluff and steal past him, but not retreating into the forest.
“Calli,” wheezed Griff. “Calli, who did this? Do you know who did this?” He absently wiped his hands with the sullied yellow-flowered rag. Realizing what he was holding, he flicked it to the ground as if it seared his hand. He stumbled over to Petra and placed a trembling hand at her wrist and then at her throat, pressing, feeling for her pulse. He shook his head.
“I can’t tell.” He fell to his knees, laid his ear to her chest, and then lightly held his finger under her nose, searching for a warm current of breath.
“Calli.” He looked toward her. “Who did this to her?”
They both heard the rustling through the trees, heavy, lumbering stomps.
“Calli! Calli!” Calli and Griff both recognized Ben’s voice as he crashed through the brush and placed himself between Griff and Calli. “Leave her alone. Get away!”
“Ben, what’re you doing here?” Griff asked, genuinely surprised.
“Get away from her!” Ben shouted again, searching around him for something to grab, a stick, a rock.
“Ben, shut up!” Griff yelled as he stood. “We need to get help up here.”
Ben’s eyes flicked to Calli, then Petra, and back to Griff. “Run, Calli,” he whispered. “That way.” He indicated the trail from which he came. “Go down, all the way down. It will lead you to Bobcat Trail. Run, Calli, don’t stop.”
“Ben, shut up,” Griff said. “You don’t know what happened here. We have to get outta here. Maybe we should carry her out,” he said, looking down at Petra. “But maybe we shouldn’t move her.” Griff bit his lip in indecision. “We can’t leave her here.” He looked up at Ben again. “You stay with her. Calli and I’ll go down the trail and get help.”
“No,” Ben said.
“What’d you say?”
“No, I’m not letting you go anywhere with Calli.”
Ben reached behind him for Calli, never taking his eyes off his father. He found Calli’s hand and pulled gently toward him so that her cheek lay against his back.
“Ben, we don’t got time for this. I think Petra’s dying. You go then and get help. I’ll stay with her.”
“No, Calli will go,” Ben said. “We stay with Petra.”
“Who made you boss?” Griff scoffed. “Who’s she gonna tell? What’ll she do, mime it? You stay. Me and Calli will go.” Griff began to walk past Ben to take hold of Calli, but Ben stepped to the side, blocking his path.
“Ben, I will knock you silly if you don’t get outta my way. This isn’t a game.” Griff made to move past Ben again, but Ben sidled in front of him.
“No, Calli’s going down to get help. I’m not leaving you alone with Petra.”
Griff blinked. “What? You think I had something to do with this?”
Ben said nothing. He stared warily at his father, his arms stretched out to the side, a wall between Griff and Calli.
“What? You really think I did this, Ben? I’m your dad.”
“I know,” Ben said, walking backward, trying to ease Calli toward the trail that would lead her downward. “Why are they even up here?” Ben asked, sweeping his arm to indicate Calli and Petra. “Why are you even up here? You never go up here.”
Griff faltered, stammered, said nothing.
“You’re here, they’re here, Petra’s hurt bad and Calli’s a mess. What am I supposed to think?”
“Don’t think, Ben. You might hurt yourself. Now get the hell outta my way. Calli, let’s go.” Griff reached around Ben and snatched Calli’s arm and began dragging her toward the trail.
“No!” Ben exclaimed. “Keep your hands offa her!” Ben shoved at Griff, who stumbled backward, caught surprised.
Ben moved quickly and swung around to Calli. He grabbed her shoulders and lowered his nose to hers. “Go, Calli, get help. I’ll take care of Petra. Run. You run as fast as you can. And you tell ’em. You tell ’em where we are.”
Calli hesitated, but Griff had recovered and was lunging back toward them. She turned and was gone.
BEN
Dad looks crazed as he gets back to his feet. What the hell have I done?
“Ben, you stupid son of a bitch. Why the hell did you do that? Now she’s gone. Once we get outta here I’m gonna beat the crap out of you.”
