Hillary_Flesh and Blood (8 page)

“W
here
’
s Hillary?
”
Mrs. Sutton asked
Kathy.

“
At the library,
”
Michael quickly replied.

Kathy frowned.

“
I was asking Mrs. Greyson,
”
Mrs. Sutton sternly responded.

“
Mrs. Greyson is going to bring me a cup of coffee,
”
Michael said sharply.

Kathy turned to leave.

“
Just one second, Mrs. Greyson, is Hillary
—”

“
I already told you Hillary is at the library!
”
Michael erupted. He stood up and glared down at Mrs. Sutton.

“
You need to leave now,
”
he said angrily.

“
I
’
m not done yet,
”
she replied calmly, meeting his glare with her own icy stare.
“
Unless, of course, you
’
d like to get the police involved.
”

Michael fell for her bluff; there was no way he wanted police involvement. He fell back onto the couch. Kathy started slowly walking back to the kitchen.

“
Mrs. Greyson, why don
’
t you join us?
”
Mrs. Sutton asked.

Torn between obeying her husband and Mrs. Sutton
’
s suggestion, Kathy froze in place for a few seconds before returning to the couch. She sat with her head lowered, clearly uncomfortable with being placed in the middle.

“
Where
’
s Hillary?
”
Mrs. Sutton asked her sternly.

“
At the library,
”
Michael chimed in.

“
I
’
m not asking you,
”
Mrs. Sutton responded, clearly annoyed.
“
I was talking to Mrs. Greyson.
”

“
S-she
’
s at the library,
”
Kathy stammered nervously.

“
So if I go upstairs, I won
’
t find her?
”

Michael abruptly stood up.

“
You
’
re not going upstairs,
”
he yelled,
“
get out, we
’
ve answered enough questions.
”

“
Mr. Greyson, I
—”

“
Get out
,
his voice boomed, “
Hillary will be at school tomorrow.
”

Mrs. Sutton stood up. She glared bitterly at Michael before turning her attention to Kathy.

“
If you ever need to talk, Mrs. Greyson
—”

“
Out!
”
Michael bellowed and Mrs. Sutton clung to her pad of paper tightly as she made her way to the door.

Michael followed behind her. Just before leaving, she turned to him and said,
“
I
’
ll find out what
’
s going on here.
”

Without waiting for a response, she let herself out of the home, slamming the door behind her.

Kathy stood just behind Michael. He didn
’
t even hear her approaching.

“
What
is
going on, Mike? Was Hillary really being bullied?
”

“
Hillary
’
s fine,
”
he said dryly and walked past her to the stairs.

Michael walked up to Hillary
’
s room. Without knocking, he entered. Hillary was asleep on her bed, with her back to him.

“
Wake up!
”
Michael yelled, giving her shoulder a shove.

Hillary turned to face him. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and winced.

Why is he here so early
,
she wondered. She feared that he would force himself on her again or make her do one of the other unspeakable acts he had taught her.

“
What?
”
she asked groggily.

“
No more of this lazy crap, Hillary, you
’
re going to school first thing tomorrow.
”

“
No!
”
she protested,
“
I
’
m not going
back
to school.
”

“
Yes you are, don
’
t you dare talk back to me!
”

“
I don
’
t wanna go to school...I don
’
t need school anymore.
”

“
Tough, you
’
re going and you
’
re going to te
ll them you were being bullied and
that
’
s why you didn
’
t want to go before.
”

“
What are you talking about? I
—”

“
Hillary Ann
e
Greyson, I
’
m only saying this one last time so make sure you hear me. Tomorrow morning you
’
re gonna wake up bright and early, take a shower, get dressed all nice and pretty and be on that school bus when it comes, because if you don
’
t, God help me, I
’
ll make you suffer!
”

“
You
’
re already making me suffer,
”
Hillary retorted.

“
And another thing,
”
Michael said angrily, ignoring her comment,
“
you
’
d better not say anything about what we
’
ve been doing.
”

“
You mean what
you
’
ve
been doing to
me?
”

“
Don
’
t act like you don
’
t like it...that
’
s not the point. You keep your mouth shut about it, you hear me?
”

Hillary said nothing.

“
I said do you hear me?
”
Michael repeated, grabbing Hillary
’
s face roughly so that she faced him.

“
Yes I hear you,
”
she said robotically.

“
Fine. Get out of bed and go wash up, you stink,
”
he said as he turned to leave. When he got
to the
door he turned back to her and said softly,
“
I
’
ll see you later, Princess.
” He
wink
ed
his eye
then
turned and walked downstairs. He found Kathy on the couch sipping a cup of coffee.

“
I had a talk with Hillary,
”
he informed her,
“
she
’
ll be returning to school tomorrow.
”

Kathy faced him nervously. She knew she should accept what he was saying without question. Yet, she felt compelled to know.

“
What about the bullies?
”
she asked, feigning ignorance.

“
I told Hillary how to deal with them. She just needed a good pep talk, is all. She
’
ll get her confidence back in no time.
”

“
Why didn
’
t she mention it to me? I asked her so many times what
—”

“
You wouldn
’
t know how to give h
er advice like I do. D
on
’
t take it personally, babe, you
’
re just
a
weak
little lady
.
”

Kathy didn
’
t disagree, she was weak. Years and years of subservience had rendered her numb. She did what Michael demanded, thought what he thought, believed what he believed. She had long ago stopped being Kathy Nicholls, individual human. She was
now
Kathy Greyson, Michael
’
s puppet. Nor was Kathy disturbed by her role; she accepted her position happily. She was content being a dutiful wife and mother.

After several awkward silent minutes, Michael stood up to leave.

“
What
’
s for dinner?
”
he asked,
“
I
’
m starving.
”

Kathy, mimicking her leader, stood up and said,
“
pot roast...it shou
l
d be done soon.
”

She walked to the kitchen to tend to the meal, as suggested. Yet Kathy, who had been troubled by Hillary
’
s prolonged depression now had an unshakable, nagging suspicion that her husband had something to do with it. She didn
’
t believe that Hillary would confide in him. She didn
’
t believe that Hillary had been bullied. Hillary had been a popular girl, she had tons of friends. No, something was just not right with his story.

Normally, puppet Kathy would accept anything and everything her puppet master told her...but not today. Today Kathy knew she had to fi
nd out for herself
why Hillary
had grown so
distraught.

After dinner, while Michael was out playing pool with his work buddies, Kathy walked upstairs to Hillary
’
s room. She knocked lightly on the door. Without a response, Kathy pushed the door open. Hillary was sitting up on her bed writing in a notebook.

“
Hi, Hilly Bee,
”
Kathy said softly as she approached slowly. She sat at the foot of the bed. Hillary sighed and closed the notebook. She held it up against her chest as she waited for a lecture from her mother. No doubt the woman was about to give her a speech about going to
school
tomorrow.

“
I know you weren
’
t being bullied, were you?
”
Kathy asked softly.

Hillary sighed again. When was her mother going to quit trying to figure out what screwed her up?

“
Hilly? Sweetheart? It
’
s been a long, long time, baby. Don
’
t you think it
’
s time you talked to me? I can help you....
”

“
Mom, I
’
ve told you a million times, it
’
s nothing. I
’
m fine.
”

“
Fine? Look at you! When was the last time you showered?
”

“
Whatever, not like I
’
m going to the ball.
”

“
Hillary, what happened to you? I know your dad is dead set against you seeing a therapist, but I disagree. He doesn
’
t have to know, I could take you
—”

“
No, Mom, Dad
’
s right, it would be a waste of time.
”

“
Your dad doesn
’
t know that, he
’
s not a psychologist. Maybe it would be easier to open up to someone else...someone not related to you. Maybe
—”

“No, Mom,
I
’
m fine, I just want to be left alone.
”