Page 52
Story: Wrapped in Silver
Epiphanies shouldn’t feel like a wrench to the head, but this one does. The man who held my hand on the way to theswing sets when I was five years old, the one who cracked open beers at barbeques with my father… Could it be…
“Boys, goodness. Here, have some ice packs.” Mara comes out frantically. “Ooo, that nose, David. Should we call the hospital?”
“I’m fine. Just a little accident.”
I could keep mouthing off, but what’s the point? I just have to figure a way out when no one’s looking, even if I have to climb down from the second floor.
I keep quiet and let Reggie follow me upstairs as I head back to the room I woke up in this morning. I’m starting to smell. My clear-polish nails are cracking, and so is my skin from the winter cold. I need a shower and a manicure, and possibly a lobotomy if these thoughts keep swirling around my head.
Uncle F?
My brow furrows when I see a duffle bag on the floor with one of my blue star pairs of panties sticking out of it. I glance up at Reggie with a whole new sort of rage.
He throws his hands up. “Lieutenant was looking out for you.”
“Oh yeah? Then where’s my phone?”
He stares at me blankly.
“Thought so. Get the hell out of here.” I shove him back.
God, that’s so embarrassing. I gather my panties, sloth socks, a white fuzzy sweater, and a new pair of leggings. At least I don’t have to borrow someone else’s things… I guess. As I stomp out of the room—ignoring Reggie—I head straight for the orange-tiled bathroom that looks like the sun blew up in it.
“Going to follow me in here, too?” I spin on Reggie.
“No ma’am.” He wants to smirk, and I hate him for it.
I hate all this. Itstinksof foul play.
As the raindrop shower falls on me, I forget where I am for a few minutes. The water is so warm and soothing. I’ve been on edge every second of every day… until I saw Dad again.
I exhale, letting that moment replay in my mind. He’s alive.He’s okay. And I have to get back to Silver so it stays that way.
Silver…
Arosso Deruso Valentino. What a freakin’ name. The termsilver foxwas made in his honor. And I miss his lips as much as I miss his big arms around me. He smells different from all the young men I’ve dated… like he’s trudged through life and now has a man’s musk to prove it.
My whole body starts to tingle.
I miss him.
I want to be around him.
The walls start to close in around me. My world turns in the worst way. Reality, it seems, is more like a haunted fun house these last few days, and now I’m in the main room. Uncle goddamnFand his anti-depressant-riddled wife.
Time to think up a plan.
After a half hour, I get out and dry off, looking at my bruises that glisten like dewy leaves on a summer day. I’m covered in them. All from the people who are supposed to protect me.
I scoff and stretch the leggings over my legs, feeling like I lost a bit of muscle since I haven’t been eating or working out properly. When I toss on my fuzzy sweater, it feels like home. And that will work wonderfully with the plan. Take a nap, stay up into the wee hours of the night, andbe gone.
Sounded great on paper, except the day goes by so slowly. I only doze for minutes at a time, because I’m on high alert. I’m not home.
Patience is a virtue I’ll learn this day. For Dad.
When the clock ticks midnight, I open the second-floor window in my room and taunt David waiting directly under in case I try to do anything funny. It’ll be the fifth time I’ve given him the finger up here within the last four hours.
“Still awake, prick?” I call.
“Boys, goodness. Here, have some ice packs.” Mara comes out frantically. “Ooo, that nose, David. Should we call the hospital?”
“I’m fine. Just a little accident.”
I could keep mouthing off, but what’s the point? I just have to figure a way out when no one’s looking, even if I have to climb down from the second floor.
I keep quiet and let Reggie follow me upstairs as I head back to the room I woke up in this morning. I’m starting to smell. My clear-polish nails are cracking, and so is my skin from the winter cold. I need a shower and a manicure, and possibly a lobotomy if these thoughts keep swirling around my head.
Uncle F?
My brow furrows when I see a duffle bag on the floor with one of my blue star pairs of panties sticking out of it. I glance up at Reggie with a whole new sort of rage.
He throws his hands up. “Lieutenant was looking out for you.”
“Oh yeah? Then where’s my phone?”
He stares at me blankly.
“Thought so. Get the hell out of here.” I shove him back.
God, that’s so embarrassing. I gather my panties, sloth socks, a white fuzzy sweater, and a new pair of leggings. At least I don’t have to borrow someone else’s things… I guess. As I stomp out of the room—ignoring Reggie—I head straight for the orange-tiled bathroom that looks like the sun blew up in it.
“Going to follow me in here, too?” I spin on Reggie.
“No ma’am.” He wants to smirk, and I hate him for it.
I hate all this. Itstinksof foul play.
As the raindrop shower falls on me, I forget where I am for a few minutes. The water is so warm and soothing. I’ve been on edge every second of every day… until I saw Dad again.
I exhale, letting that moment replay in my mind. He’s alive.He’s okay. And I have to get back to Silver so it stays that way.
Silver…
Arosso Deruso Valentino. What a freakin’ name. The termsilver foxwas made in his honor. And I miss his lips as much as I miss his big arms around me. He smells different from all the young men I’ve dated… like he’s trudged through life and now has a man’s musk to prove it.
My whole body starts to tingle.
I miss him.
I want to be around him.
The walls start to close in around me. My world turns in the worst way. Reality, it seems, is more like a haunted fun house these last few days, and now I’m in the main room. Uncle goddamnFand his anti-depressant-riddled wife.
Time to think up a plan.
After a half hour, I get out and dry off, looking at my bruises that glisten like dewy leaves on a summer day. I’m covered in them. All from the people who are supposed to protect me.
I scoff and stretch the leggings over my legs, feeling like I lost a bit of muscle since I haven’t been eating or working out properly. When I toss on my fuzzy sweater, it feels like home. And that will work wonderfully with the plan. Take a nap, stay up into the wee hours of the night, andbe gone.
Sounded great on paper, except the day goes by so slowly. I only doze for minutes at a time, because I’m on high alert. I’m not home.
Patience is a virtue I’ll learn this day. For Dad.
When the clock ticks midnight, I open the second-floor window in my room and taunt David waiting directly under in case I try to do anything funny. It’ll be the fifth time I’ve given him the finger up here within the last four hours.
“Still awake, prick?” I call.
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