Chapter 6 June 1st, 2001 Dozens of lightening bugs listlessly floated through the front yard, moving the

e same way everyone else did on a Friday afternoon with humidity so awful, you felt like liquid wax. Allison knew even after a dozen showers, the sweat would still stick to her skin. Still, as disgusting as that feeling was, even lying face up on the uncut grass, with an orange and pink sun melting her into the earth; Allison felt less dirty sinking into the lawn than having to listen to her mom and Bill. She wasnt stupid, Allison knew what was going on; the mechanics, the why, the how, but some things where better left unknown. There was no extra comfort in knowing how the rent stayed low, or how they got to borrow the Motorcycle, or how they didnt have to wait till the end of the month for groceries. There were advantages to being a woman, her mother told her, but it didnt sound that way to Allison. In fact, it didnt even sound like her mom who said that. The first time she saw Bill leave the house, Allison noticed her mothers smile had changed. It was the smile you wear when you stand up to fast, or when a dodge ball hits you in the face. Her mom smelled different too, and not like when she drank, or pretended not to smoke. She even talked slower than usual. It seemed every time Bill left, he took a little piece of her mom with him. The fear of some stupid boy slowly taking away pieces of Allison began to eat away at the girl gradually becoming one with the earth. What happens when her mom isnt enough payment for the groceries, or the rent? How long will it be until Bill will want to take pieces of Allison? How many pieces of Allison could someone take before shed be gone all together? This thought makes Allison immediately roll over and vomit.

Everything began moving faster for Allison; the sickening, dizziness of the heat and the fear of everything thing inside her being stolen made the girls head spin. From the bedroom window, she could hear both her mom and Bill getting louder: they were almost done. Allison didnt have much time left. Staggering her way to the faucet on the side of the house, the girl spat out the rest of what she threw up, and rinsed out her mouth. Wiping her face, Allison knew there was only one way to get away as far and fast as possible. As the engine revved up, Mary was just fast enough to run out of the house in her shirt and underwear to watch Allison disappear down the street. Frantically running back through the house, pulling up a pair of jeans, and grabbing Bills keys, the older man coughed out, if you wanna borrow the truck too, thats goanna cost you extra. Running back out of the house like a mad woman, Mary only hears the last part, cost you extra. Shoving the key in the ignition, and turning the engine over, there was no price too high to get her daughter back. Meanwhile, holding onto the handlebars with a white knuckle grip, Allison was screaming out everything she knew about riding motorcycles, dont ride the clutch, dont jerk the breaks, use turn signals The last thing she ignored, quickly turning onto Hawthorne Street narrowly missing an oncoming sedan. Nearly tipping over, Allison revved the engine, straightening out. Moving her head like a pigeon, Allison is still too terrified of the bike and what might be coming after her to enjoy the ride. The young girls strained nerves come to a head when she spied the busy intersection before her. Up until now, Allison had largely been ignoring stop signs, gaining speeds far past the recommended posted limit. Softly, Allison begins squeezing the breaks. The intersection ahead is still coming up faster. She squeezed tighter.

What if someone sees her at the stop light? What if Bill catches up to her? What if she has to pay for the bike? What if shes used as the payment? In the midst of all these fears and the fast approaching traffic, Allisons concentration is broken by a sudden HONK! The girl sharply turns the bike hopping over the curb and into the IGA parking lot. Another oncoming car lays on its horn. Swerving to the left, Allison over corrects, vice grips the breaks and knocks the bike against a parked car, flinging her onto the hood. The young girl is not completely unconscious, but shes getting there. Above the sound of the motorcycle still idling on the pavement in front of the car, Allison hears a familiar voice, hey, are you conscious? Do you remember your name? With her eyes still closed, Allison grabs the collar of whoevers in front of her threatening, you cant steal my name you son of a bitch! Heart racing, and her other hand ready to strike, Allison opens her eyes. To her surprise, standing over her and holding her fist is the sad boy from camp. Try not to move, he says; if you hurt your spine, youll make it worse. Can you move your toes? Allison relaxes her fist, but tenses up everything else. What if she did hurt her spine? She wouldnt be able to runaway. Her breathing becomes more erratic despite Marshal repeating, calm down. Can you move your toes? The girl focuses. She exhales as she feels her toes wiggle inside her Converse Sneakers. Looking up to Marshal, who was digging through his big backpack, he removes a small white box with a red cross on the top; does anything else hurt? What are you, a doctor? No, but Im the only one in my troop to get their First Aid Badge. Slowly Allison begins to lean forward; I think Im oww

Marshal looks down to see Allisons right arm badly bruised, with a wide splotch of blood staining the hood of the car. Taking out an instant cold pack, here put this where it hurts, but dont move your right arm okay? Allison complies even though the cold pack burns something awful. Intently watching as the boy mumbles to himself examining her arm; Im going to clean the wound okay? She nods, as Marshal carefully dabs away at the wound with a cotton swab. Does anything else feel broken or My arm is broken?! I dont know, dont freak out! After wrapping Allisons arm up into a splint, Marshal helps her off the hood of the car onto the ground. Everything is sore to the point that standing is not a fun activity for her. Leaning against the hood, Allison asks Marshal, what are you doing here? I was at the library across the street when I saw the crash. You were at the library? Yeah? Its summer though. I can still read in the summer. Wheeling his fully loaded shopping cart over to the car, a portly man bellows out, what the hell happened to my car? Before either Allison or Marshal could answer, a bright red Dodge truck roared into the parking lot. Parking directly in front of Marshal, the drivers side door flies open to reveal a very tall, very muscular, and very angry older man with a jaw line that looked very much like Marshals. Son, as of now youre in a world of trouble. Can somebody tell me whats going on, and who is going to pay for my car? whines an indignant Shopping-Cart-Guy.

Marshal, you wanna start talking right now young man. Allison steps up, bordering on hysterical, spitting out, they were after me, so I had to take the bike, then I almost got hit, and um he ran over and fixed my arm. The confusion on Marshals Dads face has not lessened any. Looking back to Marshal, well? I told everyone I was going to the library What did we talk about in regards to you just running away? But I told them Thats not what we discussed Marshal. If youre going to just disappear Excuse me! interrupts the man with the cart; somebody owes me some money for what your kids did to my car! Marshals dad takes a breath to properly survey the situation. He turns to Allison, is this your parents bike? Parent no, its Bills, and hes going to I had to run. I think we better call your folks, then to the Guy, Im sure well figure out whats going on here. Shopping Cart Guy crosses his arms and snorts. The scene gets worse real quick. Allison gasps as a rusted pick up enters the lot headed straight for the small crowd that has now gathered around the girl, the boy, and the bike. Mary leaps out of the truck running over to Allison. Kneeling down in front of her daughter, Mary pulls Allison into an embrace. What the hell were you thinking, you could have been killed! Pulling away from her mom, Id rather be dead than have sex with Bill! What? Mary cries out as her eyes well up.

Shopping-Cart-Guy has officially run out of patience; listen, I dont know whats going on, and I dont care, Im calling the police and I want that bike off my car right now. Mary quickly turns to the Guy, whipping her eyes; look I am so sorry that my daughter almost dying on the hood of your car is such a goddamn in convenience to you! The Guy is stunned, well, look lady- No, go on, I know my kids blood doesnt go well with your car but shit, your ice cream is about to melt and thats FAR more valuable than a childs life, ISNT IT? Mr. Sutherland pulls on his sons shoulder, lets go, well talk at home. Marshal doesnt budge as a crazy idea has already gripped him, I SAW THE WHOLE THING! THAT GUY HIT THE GIRL! A collective gasp is drawn by the mob. Mary shoots Marshal a wide-eyed look, then cuts back to the Guy: she has the upper hand now. You sick mother fucker, you nearly ran into my daughter, then expect ME to pay for your car? The murmuring of the crowd is growing like wild fire, drowning out the panicked cries of Shopping Cart Guys pleas of, thats not what happened! In a town this small however, when the mob thinks youre guilty, thats good enough. With the crowd in her corner now, Mary steps right up into the Guys face, look, before I tell the lynch mob you tried to rape her too, Ill repair your hood, no charge, and we drop the whole thing, deal? The Guy frantically nods his head. Pulling a business card out of his pocket and shoving it into Marys palm, he leaves the cart behind to escape into his car. While the Guy tries to maneuver his car out past the mob circle, Mary strides back to her daughter. Looking down at the splint Marshal had made, what happened, is it broken?

Marshal pipes up, official diagnosis suggests its only sprained, but I recommend she keep the splint on until you get the arm examined by a physician. Mary and Mr. Summerland look beyond bewildered. Fighting his discomfort, Mr. Summerland resumes his stern maneuvering of Marshal back to the truck. Alright, thats enough for today Marshal, looking down to Mary, I got here after whatever happened, and Im sorry about your kid but Well, says Mary in her slow interview voice, it appears as if your son saved my daughters life. I dont know about that Marshals dad stammers out. Im serious, without your son, I dont know what would have happened to my girl. kneeling down to Marshal, I dont know how to thank you young man, she says with a subtle wink. Marshal straightens up, rolling his shoulders back, just doing a good turn daily Miss. Mary then straightens up slowly, batting her eyes with seductive precision; if theres anything I can do to show my thanks Mr. Summerland is only human. With the blood flowing in the wrong direction he answers, thats all right Miss, Im... Im just lucky to have a good kid. Im sure youll be wanting to take care of whatever you need to do, um Well, if you think of anything, fishing Bills business card out of her pocket, heres where to find me. Allison looks like shes about to hurl again. Taking the card, sure. You take care now, and look after your girl. Mary smiles as she takes her daughter by the one hand, lifting up the bike with the other; finally cutting the engine and walking it away from Marshal and his dad. As they walk in silence,

Allison looks back to watch Marshal climb up into the shiny truck. For the first time, their eyes truly meet. Allisons gaze is broken as Mary tugs at her hand. Owww, mom The bike falls over onto the sidewalk, Mary collapses to her knees, sobbing and convulsing with arms wrapped around her daughter, dont ever do anything like that again! Allison is petrified, shed never seen her mom break down like this; its almost enough to bring Allison to tears as well, but she doesnt. What were you thinking? Mary asks again, this time barely audible though her bawling. I was scared Id have to do stuff with Bill. I dont want have sex with Bill. Horrified, Allison, no one is going to make you have sex with Bill. Then who makes you? Honey we went over this. Bill and I Hes robbing you mom! What do you mean hes? Every time Bill leaves, after you two youre less you. Allison Alli, Im still me, and there is no excuse for you to steal the bike. Do you realize you could have got yourself killed!? I was scared I dont care, catches herself, Allison, first things first, you dont steal motorcycles. Is that understood? But Allison! Okay. I promise Sorry.

The sound of sirens in the distance, encourage Mary to wipe her eyes and get to her feet. Letting loose a few French curses, Mary straddles the bike. Lets go. Well talk about the rest on the way home. Not with Bill? Allison, lets go. The young girl complies, mounting the bike, of which she had a new respect and fear for. Wrapping her arms around her mothers waist, it was odd to Allison that she had a fear that was enjoyable. Regrettably, deep down Allison knew nothing her mother could say would cut away the new fears that had already taken root.