Sliding On The Edge (23 page)

“
Now. Now, Shawna,” his
voice wheedles. “What is real?”

“
Me! I’m real.”

“
A real what? Girl?
Granddaughter? Say, how about a real daughter with a real mother
and father?”

I want to kill him. Grab him by his
fat throat, and squeeze until his toad eyes pop out onto the floor
and roll around like marbles.

“
I know what you’re
thinking, Sweetie.”

“
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
I clap my hands over my ears, but Sweetie, Sweetie rings in my
head. Mom’s voice. Jackie’s voice. The small click and the
emptiness of the line strung for miles between Vegas and Sweet
River.

I wish I could be five
again. I wish she would prop me up on pillows, like she did then,
and feed me ice cream again. I would lick the spoon clean and she’d
laugh, I’d laugh. And nobody would come to take her out and leave
me all alone.

“
I’m here, Shawna,” Monster
coos. “You saw what happened when you were nice and cozy with those
girls tonight. And what about that Sunday Boy, Casey? Can’t let
them in, Shawna. You can’t trust anybody but me.”

Don’t get the shakes. Don’t get the
shakes.

“
I don’t want you!” I
scream, but the words dribble down my chin and soak into the
sheets.

“
You don’t want anyone,
Sweetie. And nobody wants you either.”

“
No!” I sit up and slide my
hands under my butt.
Get it
together
.

“
Where’s Daddy? He split the
minute you were born. Mommy? She’s a busy one. Lots of people more
important than you to spend her time with. And how about old
Granny? Now you know even
she
didn’t want you before you were born. Do you think
she wants you now?”

He waits, a smug look drawing his face
up tight. “I don’t think so, he sing-songs as he scoots even
closer. “Oh, and how about that Sunday Boy? You think he’ll be
around again soon? Not!”

I can feel his breath on my face. The
loamy smell that used to be Marta’s gags me. Maybe it never
belonged to her. Maybe it was Monster in my face all that time.
He’s not a toad at all. He’s The Troll, smothering me with his
stench.

I pull out the nightstand drawer and
reach for the tissue-wrapped blade. But even as my fingers touch
the sharp edge, I know its power is ended. Monster knows it too.
He’s heard it in my voice. He’s seen it in my face. The bottle of
small white pills hides at the back of the drawer. I dump them onto
my palm and lie down. I’m cold. I pull up the sheet and the blanket
to my chin, but I’m okay now. I feel better and stronger. I’m quiet
inside and I’m not in the least shaky. Now I have a
plan.

One pill. Two. Three.

They’re hard to swallow without water,
but I’m shaking too much to get up and find my way into the
kitchen. I fill my mouth with saliva.

Four. Five. Six.

He’s patting me on the head, smoothing
my hair away from my forehead. “Nice Monster. Good Monster,” he’s
crooning.

Who’s he calling Monster?
Me? I’m the Monster? I’m the one who’s kept myself safe and can’t
any longer? Won’t any longer?

Seven. I can’t count
anymore.

So who am I putting to
sleep? Him? Me? Both? I’ll take him down right now and get it over
with.

I lunge.

Chapter 43

Kay

Kay stayed in the kitchen after Kenny
left. She sat at the table and picked at the cookie crumbs on the
plate, just stirring them into patterns. Shawna hadn’t come back to
tell her about the phone call to Jackie, but Kay had heard her go
to her room.

Now what
, she wondered.
I can go in and talk
to her. I can ask when she’d like to leave. Maybe I should wait
until morning. Let her sleep. This has been a terrible night for
her. Ha! Make that for all of us. Even poor Kenny looked exhausted
when he walked out the door.

She’d had terrible nights before.
Lonely nights, sitting here at this table. And it looked like there
were more to come. Once Shawna left, her life would go back to what
it used to be. And what kind of life was that?

It had only been two months
since the girl came, and Kay couldn’t imagine how she’d manage
without her. Her
Bad Ass Attitude
T-shirt had gone from offensive, to not as bad as
others she’d seen in the halls of Sweet River High, to a part of
the white load in the weekly laundry. What would she and Buster do
every afternoon, without the run to the school to pick Shawna up?
And what about going shopping? Or watching her with the horses in
the barn?

Kay carried the mugs to the
sink.
There’s nothing I can do to keep her
here if she doesn’t want to stay. Jackie’s irresponsible, but she’s
Shawna’s legal guardian.

“
Nic. I need you more
everyday.”

She went to her room,
showered, and pulled her nightgown over her head. She desperately
needed to sleep. Tomorrow she’d talk things out with Shawna; then
see Vic about the out-of-towners who would become her new
neighbors. She’d try and talk to them about the property, see about
the horses.
Tomorrow
, she thought laying her head on the pillow.

The regular, metallic sound of the
clock on her nightstand filled the quiet air, its endless chain of
clicks pulling her toward the morning. She closed her eyes and
turned onto her side, rolled back, punched the pillow, and buried
her face.

I’m getting more exercise
than sleep, she thought. She sat up and put her feet on the floor.
She snapped on the bedside lamp, and rummaged through the stack of
magazines piled under the nightstand.
Choose something dull, Kay
.

She pulled out an old Time magazine
and flipped the pages without reading them, letting the pictures
show her the stories of crime, misery, and occasionally new heroes,
basking in the light of fame.

But then she felt it more than she
heard it. Or maybe was it both? She dropped the magazine and leaned
forward, waiting to feel or hear more. But there was nothing except
the sound time makes as it passes.

Had it come from outside?
She pulled on her jacket, walked to the back door, and stepped into
her boots.
Probably a
raccoon
. The back porch light cast eerie
shadows out toward the barn, but nothing scuttled away when she
walked down the steps and quickly circled from the porch to the
barn and back.
Maybe the front
then?
Buster looked up from his cushion at
the sudden brightness when the yellow light flooded the front
porch.

“
Sorry, old boy. False
alarm.” She turned off the light and locked up again. “Let’s make
another stab at sleeping.”

At her door she paused. Still, there’d
been something, she knew it. Kay walked down the hall to Shawna’s
door and listened. She tapped softly, and then stepped into the
dark room.

The rumpled bed was empty.

Shawna lay sprawled on the
floor.

Chapter 44

Shawna

“
What’s wrong with you?” Kay
screams. She’s standing next to me, but I hear her from very far
away. Her face becomes many faces, falling over me like flower
petals.

She pries open my hand. What do I have
that she wants? Whatever it is, she’s got it now. I search for my
favorite memory—that motel somewhere, the woman with the long red
braid, the spoon, the ice cream. How come Kay doesn’t have a braid?
Or ice cream?

She grabs me by the back of the neck,
takes my hand and pulls me onto my feet, hauling me across the
floor until I feel the cool bathroom tiles

I think I’m laughing. Maybe
it’s because she grabs the chickens in the same way, takes them to
“the block,” and chops off their heads.
Is
Kay going to chop off my head?

“
Stick your finger down your
throat!” she yells. “Either you do it, or I will!”

“
I . . . can--’t find . . .”
I know what I want to say, but when I try, the words come out
slushy.

My head is sinking toward the toilet
bowl. I’m going to drown in it. But I feel Kay’s hand tighten on my
neck. It’s strong and rough, and she’s shaking me so much, my eyes
seem to roll around in my head.

My mouth gapes and I feel her finger
at the back of my throat. I gag, and up comes a wave of vomit.
Chunks of pills spill into the water. Then there’s more. I become
the Niagara Falls of pill vomit for what seems like forever and
ever.

Kay flushes the toilet. And when I
throw up again, it’s smelly and slimy, but there are no more white
lumps.

Kay lets go and I slide down the wall
to squat on the floor.

“
Here.” Kay shoves a damp
towel into my hands. “Wipe your face.”

She drags me to my feet and props me
onto the toilet seat cover.

I hear the back door open and close,
and then it’s quiet. I’m alone. I’m still alive, my face buried in
a towel that smells like vomit.

Kay dashed from the house to Kenny’s
trailer. But the distance seemed greater than ever before. Would
she reach him in time? Why couldn’t she move faster? Maybe Shawna
was hurting herself again at this very moment. Kay’s nightmare was
coming to life.

A high-speed train whipped
around a bend in the tracks. The oncoming engine with its beam
stretched out into the darkness, silhouetted Nic, standing,
waiting, waving to her without seeing the train behind
him.

Run, her brain screamed,
but her feet were caught between metal rails, and she couldn’t lift
them. The train came nearer and nearer until it washed Nic away in
its white light.

“
Kenny!” she shouted and
pounded on his door. The door flew open. “Grab your bag. It’s
Shawna. She’s taken something. I made her throw up, but . .
.”

Kenny was already running toward the
house, his bag flapping at his side. “Where is she?” he shouted
over his shoulder.

“
The bathroom,” she managed
to say; then she leaned against the side of his trailer for a
moment and wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
I couldn’t save Nic, she thought. Please let me
save Shawna.

I hear Kenny’s voice before I hear his
footsteps on the back steps. The door swings open, and his boots
clomp through the house until he’s standing over me. He pulls my
eyelids up, then puts his fingers around my wrist. He wraps
something around my arm until I can feel my pulse thud against the
tight band.

“
What do you think?” Kay’s
voice is tense.

“
Vitals are good. I think
you got most of it out of her. Let’s get something into her stomach
to soak up whatever’s left. “Come on, Missy. No more tossing your
cookies tonight.” He has me around the waist and I stumble down the
hall with him until he drops me onto the living room
couch.

A kitchen cabinet opens and
closes, then the refrigerator door. The familiar sound of Kay’s
sturdy boots strides back to me.
That’s a
first. She didn’t take off her boots. Neither did Kenny. They broke
the boot rule! I made Kay Stone and Kenny Fargo break a house rule.
I didn’t expect that.

“
Eat these,” she
says.

I pull the towel down and look
up.

“
I don’t think I . .
.”

“
Eat,” Kenny
says.

I take the crackers and chew on one
very slowly, sure that it will come right back up all over me. It
doesn’t. Kay pushes a glass of milk into my hand, and I take a
small sip. But the milk tastes like liquid chalk. I burp and hold
the towel over my mouth. My throat burns like it’s filled with hot
acid, but still nothing comes up. I hold the glass out for Kay to
take, but she pushes it back toward my mouth.

Stubborn old
woman.

I take another sip, and work on
keeping my head from turning itself inside out so everything around
me will stop stretching like elastic. I concentrate on the coffee
table in front of me. It should be a tidy square, but at the moment
it snakes this way and that, like it’s on the way out the
door.

Chapter 45

Shawna

I must have fallen asleep after Kenny
and Kay forced more crackers and milk into me. I wake up on the
couch under one of Kay’s afghans, with crumbs in the corners of my
mouth and my brain kicking the back of my eyeballs.

Kay sits in her chair, drinking coffee
and watching me. “Dr. Lubell said you’d feel very thirsty and
probably shaky. Was she right?”

I try sitting up but give it up as a
bad plan. Instead I stretch out with my eyes closed against the
morning light.

“
I guess she
was.”

A few minutes later, I feel a cool
cloth on my forehead and Kay’s fingers on my wrist. “See if you can
sit up now. I’ll get you some water.”