It was a beautiful, Indiana September afternoon. The air was cool and crisp with the distinct smell a sunny autumn day brings. I was six and had entered first grade and life seemed perfect. As I stepped off the school bus, I noticed that the leaves were just beginning to don their fall wardrobe and picked up a maple leaf to smell it. Although it was a bit early in the season, my excitement mounted as I visualized myself jumping into a mound of freshly raked leaves. Then my thoughts quickly changed to the upcoming game of kickball across the street, and I ran into the house to change clothes.
I pounded up the stairs and into the bedroom, where I struggled out of my dress. The back door slammed, and I looked out the window to see which one of my siblings had beaten me out the door. It was my brother Mike. I watched him tear across the lawn toward the garage. My attention was drawn to a tiny black movement below me. Our cat, Samantha, had had a litter of kittens several weeks before and Lucy, the runt of litter, who also happened to be blind, was sitting on the back porch step licking her tiny paw. I smiled briefly and tried to open the window to yell down at my brother to take her back into the house. But the window was painted shut. Suddenly I caught a movement from the corner of my eye and turned to see my neighbor's dog, Meng, a very mean Chow running towards our house. He was headed straight for Lucy. I began screaming and banging on the window with my fists, hoping to stop the dog or get my brother's attention. But it was too late. I watched in horror, as Meng clamped down on the kitten's neck, shook his head viciously from left to right then dropped her lifeless body from his jaws and ran off. I stood with my fists on the window, my head against the glass pane, and sobbed.
That was when Ed walked in.
"What the hell are you screaming and crying about?" He stood in the door, legs apart, trying to look bigger than his five foot four inch frame. His face was dark and distorted, his deep-set eyes glared at me and his teeth, which were yellow and protruded slightly from his mouth, were clenched in rage. Waiting for my reply, he ran a hand through his slicked back hair. When I said nothing, he yelled at me again. "I asked you what the hell you're screaming and crying about."
The look on his face frightened me. I tried to explain about the kitten through my sobs, but I couldn't get the words out. He became disgusted and told me to shut up and stay in my room while he went downstairs to see for himself what was going on. As soon as he left, I started crying again. I knew I was in trouble, but I didn't know why. I was afraid of the unknown, I was afraid of his look, I was afraid by the way his jaw tightened when he spoke, the way his fists kept clenching and unclenching as I tried to speak. His body language told me that nothing would be okay when he returned, so I quickly finished changing my clothes.
When I heard the back door slam I ran to the window again. Ed picked Lucy up and dropped her, like a dirty sock, into a dustpan, which he handed to Mike. I felt sick and started to cry again, but knew I had to get down there and help my brother bury her.
That was when I heard Ed's footsteps coming back up the steps. He stopped at the door again, a cigarette between his lips and his eyes like slits. He took a drag from his cigarette and smirked. "The cat's dead. But it was the best thing that could have happened to her. No one wants a puny, blind pussy anyway." He laughed at his own joke.
I was confused. I thought all animals mattered. Lucy was even more special because she was small and blind. My mouth began to quiver again as I looked at him.
"Jesus, don't start your fucking crying again. Go into my bedroom," he said. "I'm going to show you something that will take your mind off that stupid cat."
I couldn't move. Was he going to beat me? He came forward and wrapped one hand around the back of my neck; something that would become customary. I cried out in fear and winced as he pushed me into his bedroom and ordered me to sit on the bed. He stood in front of me and began unbuckling his belt. I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck, replacing the burning feeling his fingers had left. But instead of taking his belt off to hit me, as I was expecting, he dropped his pants and stood naked from the waist down in front of me. He began playing with himself. "Do you know what this is?"
Terrified, I shook my head. I didn't want to look at him or what he was doing to himself. I was confused and nauseated. I had never seen a man's body before. For it to be revealed in such a way had a sickening affect on me, because I knew it was wrong, horribly wrong.
"I'm going to teach you what this is and how it works and it's going to be our secret. Do you hear me?" he asked. "Now touch it."
I shook my head as hard as I could, biting into my lower lip until it bled. I didn't want to touch it. I was terrified of the bulging mass of flesh he was manipulating. I couldn't touch it. I started to cry again, but inside I was telling myself not to cry. Crying was what had gotten me into this mess to begin with. If I hadn't been such a cry-baby over Lucy, maybe he wouldn't be doing this to me now.