Page 18 of Burned


  All the men would trundle

  in, faces smudged with soot,

  bodies in need of rest and

  spirits sagging. We did our

  best to cheer them up

  but smiles were in short

  supply that week.

  Even Ethan’s unflagging

  cheerfulness had dissolved

  in a sea of exhaustion.

  I saw him twice in five days.

  Both times he said the same thing.

  I can keep going, but I need

  to hear one thing and only

  you can say it.

  So I did. “I love you, Ethan.

  And I’m very proud of you.”

  The Old Pattyn

  Might have seen

  the events of that week

  for what they were.

  An omen.

  The gut-wrenching stab

  of separation, with Ethan

  away for five days, was

  a sign

  of things to come.

  But the improved Pattyn

  couldn’t intuit even

  a whisper

  of impending implosion.

  Happiness, you see,

  is just an illusion

  of Fate,

  a heavenly sleight of hand

  designed to make you believe

  in fairy tales. But there’s

  no happily ever after.

  You’ll only find happy

  endings in books.

  Some books.

  The Rest of the Story

  Began with another letter from home:

  Hey,

  I shouldn’t be writing this, and I can

  only hope that whoever gets the mail

  there isn’t a busybody. I just don’t know

  where else to turn. Not that I expect

  you to do anything. Please don’t.

  It would only make things worse.

  I need someone to know what’s going

  on here, Pattyn. I need to believe someone

  cares. If anyone does, it’s you. Remember

  I told you Dad doesn’t hit Mom anymore,

  because of the baby? Well, he hasn’t

  exactly quit his Friday night boxing

  matches. Only now his opponent

  isn’t Mom. It’s me.

  Remember how we wondered why

  she didn’t tell anyone? Now I know.

  It isn’t only fear. It’s embarrassment.

  You can’t show your face in public

  without feeling like you’ve done

  something wrong. Something you

  needed to be punished for. Not only that, but

  everyone knows you’ve been bad.

  Somehow, you’ve been bad.

  But I haven’t done anything wrong.

  Haven’t been bad. So why do I

  feel guilty? Am I sick, or what?

  Miss you, Jackie

  Anger Sweated

  From my pores, acid. I could

  picture Jackie, going to sacrament

  meeting wearing sunglasses.

  Was that a lie too, Bishop Crandall?

  Or maybe Dad was too smart

  to leave bruises on his teenage

  daughter. Maybe he planted his anger

  where no one was likely to see it.

  Not that anyone would look hard

  enough to take notice until school

  started again in September. Teachers

  were trained to notice, weren’t they?

  But what if he really hurt her?

  Jackie didn’t have near the padding

  Mom did. And who could she

  turn to if he did? Who cared but me?

  I didn’t know what to do.

  If I confided in Aunt J, she’d want

  to do something, call someone—

  Dad or the cops.

  Jackie was right. If Dad

  knew she had told anyone, even me,

  maybe even especially me,

  who knew what his reaction might be?

  I stared out the window, shaking

  with anger and frustration.

  Then I crumbled and cried,

  sinking in helplessness.

  The Letter Ate at Me for Days

  It seemed like I could do something,

  should do something. But what?

  I didn’t dare call the police. I had no

  solid proof and Dad would just deny it.

  Besides, I no longer trusted the law,

  nor those who had sworn to uphold it.

  I couldn’t call Bishop Crandall. In his eyes,

  Jackie was just another of Dad’s possessions.

  Anyway, he probably already knew the truth

  through one of Dad’s sicko confessions.

  I wanted to tell Ethan. But what if he said something

  to his dad? What evil memories that would stir!

  No way could I stand the idea of becoming

  a wedge between Kevin and Aunt J.

  I hated my dad. Every time I thought my

  life was okay after all, pretty good, in fact;

  every time I believed I had escaped the gravity

  of his terrible sphere, he reached out,

  whatever the distance between us, grabbed

  hold and shook till my teeth rattled.

  Between That

  And starting my period,

  I was half puppy, half bitch

  for several days, seesawing

  from tucking my tail between

  my legs to howling at the moon,

  the sun, and everyone close by.

  Poor Ethan and Aunt J didn’t

  know quite what to make of me.

  Aunt J had seen me mad before,

  but Ethan hadn’t. And I wasn’t

  just mad. I was furious,

  with no reasonable way to vent.

  Hormones and hatred do not

  a manageable team make.

  Anyone other than Ethan

  would probably have

  written me off right then

  and there. He didn’t.

  Finally, after an over-the-top

  snappish episode, he put

  one hand on each of my

  cheeks and asked, What

  happened, Pattyn? Why

  are you acting this way?

  “Nothing much,” I answered,

  way too snippily. “Except I’m

  swollen up like a rotten gourd,

  my face is threatening to explode

  with pimples, and…and…my dad

  is beating my little sister.”

  Ethan Opened His Arms

  I fell into them gratefully.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean

  to tell you all that.”

  Why are you sorry? Pattyn,

  we are nothing if we can’t

  tell each other our secrets.

  I wished it were only my

  secrets in need of telling.

  “There’s a lot more. Dad…”

  Ethan listened to a long

  recitation of my father’s sins,

  minus the part about his own dad.

  “I’m scared, Ethan. For

  Jackie and my sisters.

  For me. And for you.”

  Don’t worry about me. I can

  take care of myself, and I

  swear I’ll keep you safe.

  I knew he would do

  the best he could, maybe

  even offer himself up.

  I’m not sure how to help

  your sisters, though. Give

  me some time to think, okay?

  I Thought He’d

  Run

  if he knew.

  Instead, he offered

  help,

  not that I believed

  he could possibly

  help.

  I thought he’d

  turn

  his back, close h
is

  heart, slink

  away.

  Instead, he promised

  sanctuary.

  Of course, he didn’t

  really know Dad, the

  power

  of his demons, or his

  warped moral code.

  Safety

  was a relative term. I

  was safe here, hugged by

  sanity.

  But even with Ethan

  by my side, the

  closer

  I let myself get to home,

  the more uncertain our

  future

  would become.

  I Made Ethan Promise

  Not to tell his dad or Aunt J.

  So now my nasty family secrets

  could gnaw at him, too.

  Neither of us could figure

  a way to stop my dad without

  calling in the authorities.

  We could call Secret Witness,

  Ethan suggested. That way no one

  would know who made the call.

  I debated that for a day or two.

  Would Dad think Jackie called?

  Someone from church? Me?

  What would the cops find when

  they got to our house? Signs of abuse?

  Simple squalor? Nothing of importance?

  What would they do if they found

  something “off”? Issue a warning?

  Put the girls in foster care?

  Would Dad have to go to court?

  Get counseling? Would that help

  or only make him angrier still?

  Too many questions, with no

  clear answers. I was more confused

  than ever. And it began to show.

  I Didn’t Smile

  I didn’t talk much.

  I picked at my food.

  One morning, Aunt J

  asked, Feeling all right?

  I stared at the table.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  Everything good between

  you and Ethan?

  I nodded my head.

  “Everything’s okay.”

  Well, seems to me you’re

  not the Pattyn I’m used to.

  How could I deny it?

  “I know.”

  So will you tell me what’s

  wrong, please?

  I shook my head.

  “I can’t.”

  Pattyn, you’re not in

  the family way, are you?

  “No! That’s not it.”

  I almost wished it was.

  At least then.

  Journal Entry, August 14

  Something inside me is shouting,

  some instinct telling me to run,

  run fast before everything falls

  apart, like an old dust rag.

  I don’t know why I believed I

  could actually find happiness

  and hold on to it. Dad won’t let

  that happen, will he?

  I should have known I couldn’t

  escape his ghosts. They followed me

  here and waited for the perfect

  moment to jump out and say boo.

  God must be punishing me after

  all. I truly was beginning to believe

  Aunt J’s theories about love

  and God being one and the same.

  I truly thought the love Ethan

  and I share was blessed by God,

  that He would forgive the physical

  part because the rest was pure.

  Maybe the Church was right.

  Maybe I’m selfish.

  Maybe I’m evil.

  Maybe I’m damned.

  I feel like I’m on a tightrope,

  barely balancing. I know it’s

  a long way down and I’m

  afraid I’m destined to crash.

  Part of That Feeling of Dread

  Came from the fact

  that the new school

  year was closing in.

  The semester would start

  in less than two weeks.

  Where did that leave me?

  I still hadn’t heard

  word one from home.

  School here? There?

  Torn between needing

  to stay and wanting to leave,

  wanting to be closer to Ethan,

  how would I survive, not

  seeing him for weeks, maybe

  months, at a time?

  Ethan quit his job, to spend

  more time with me before

  he had to pack up and go.

  As the end of the month

  drew nearer, each day

  grew shorter than the last.

  Time Became the Enemy

  I could feel the hours slip away, drift away, rush away, beyond our reach forever. I wanted to melt, make him drink me down so he would carry me inside him.

  Though we must have eaten, must have slept, it seemed all we did was make love, each time better, each time sweeter, each time more frantic than the last.

  One of Those Times

  I can’t remember exactly

  which day, only that it

  was in the cool of morning,

  Ethan rolled away

  and said, Oh my God.

  I knew instantly that

  God had already closed

  His ears. “What’s wrong?”

  Don’t panic, Pattyn,

  but the condom tore.

  My parents had never

  let me take sex ed, but

  panic seemed appropriate.

  I mean, the odds are long

  that anything will go wrong.

  Everything was going

  wrong lately. Why should

  this be any different?

  This happened to me once

  before. Turned out fine.

  I didn’t want to hear details.

  I didn’t want to consider odds.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Pattyn? Are you okay?

  Say something.

  “Maybe I’d better go clean

  up.” It wasn’t much, but it

  was all I could think to do.

  One More Thing

  To fret about,

  in my bed at night.

  Just add it to the list,

  growing longer

  by the minute.

  I tried not to stress

  too much over it.

  After all, with so

  many tangibles

  socking my gut,

  a “might be, but

  probably nothing

  to worry about”

  didn’t exactly

  top my list.

  And the phone call

  that came a day or

  two after pushed

  everything else to

  the back of my mind.

  Aunt J Summoned Me Inside

  And her eyes told me all

  I needed to know.

  That was your father.

  He wants you home.

  I’d expected it. Hoped

  for it. Dreaded it. So why

  did I feel so surprised?

  Why did I let myself cry?

  Don’t do that, Pattyn.

  You know I don’t want

  to see you go. If you cry,

  I will too.

  I coughed back a sob.

  “But what about you?

  I don’t want to leave

  you all by yourself.”

  I’ve been by myself for

  years. Besides, thanks

  mostly to you, I’ve got

  Kevin in my life again.

  The thought comforted me

  a little. “But what about

  Ethan? What if they won’t

  let me see him?”

  Love is stubborn. You

  two will find a way

  to each other. But please

  be smart about it.

  S
he knew, as I did,

  exactly what was at stake.

  So I felt safe admitting,

  “I’m scared, Aunt J.”

  You just have to make

  it through this year. Then

  leave. You always have

  a second home. Here.

  That Same Day

  Another letter arrived

  from Jackie, too late

  to serve as a warning:

  Dear Pattyn,

  I heard Mom and Dad

  talking. They want you

  to come home so you can

  help take care of the baby.

  I guess you’ve got enough

  credits to graduate only

  going to school half days.

  I thought I’d be happier,

  having you home. But I

  changed my mind. If you’re

  okay there, and you can

  find a way to stay,

  don’t come home, Pattyn.

  Because then Dad

  wouldn’t just hit me.

  He’d hit you, too.

  Love, Jackie

  Dad Wanted to Come Get Me

  The Saturday before school started,

  although he wasn’t particularly

  anxious to make that long trip again.

  So when Aunt J mentioned

  a friend of hers was driving to Reno,

  he felt more than willing to