Read Online Leaning, Leaning Over Water by Frances Itani - Free Book Online
Authors: Frances Itani
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body made a rolling lunge, knocking over the chair. It fell, resting against the edge of the desk. The overhead light went on andwe looked up at Henri’s Bride who was blinking at us from the doorway.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God, what’s going on? Dah’ling!” she called, at the top of her lungs, “Dah’ling! Come quick.” She ran out of the room and we heard her pounding on a wall. A door opened from the back part of the house and Henri limped along the hallway and stood looking down at us.
It took the two of them ten minutes to cut the rope, to untie us knot by knot, and they were furious. When my limbs were free I found I couldn’t stand. I had to rub at my legs and arms and wait until the blood started moving again. Mimi was hiccuping; her whole body was shaking and she couldn’t make it stop.
“That fool,” said Henri. “He has his nerve touching you like this.” He and the Bride exchanged looks.
By this time, Pierrette had come in and they told her what had happened. She led us both downstairs and said, “Where the hell is he? I knew he was a creep the way he looked at me the first time our mother brought him home. And ever since,” she added.
She softened when she talked to us and she asked us what he had done.
“He gagged us and tied us up,” said Mimi. “He said it was just for fun. We were playing hide-and-seek and he told us the other kids had gone home. He was supposed to come back and untie us but he didn’t come back.” She did not say that Bee-Bee had stayed in the room.
“He didn’t do anything else?”
“No.”
“Go on up to the store,” she said. “Tell the Bull I said to give you a melorol. Tell him I’ll be there later. Hurry up,before it’s dark. Trude can go home from the store. Mimi, you wait there with Ferdinand until I come.” She put an arm around each of us. “You’re okay,” she said. “You’re not hurt.” She looked at Henri and the Bride over our heads and added, “I’m staying right here until I find the S-O-B.”
Mimi and I went to the stoop and ran down the steps and out of the yard. We didn’t want to bump into Bee-Bee.
“Bee-Bee’s in trouble,” she said. “Because it wasn’t like playing. Pierrette’s going to tell our mother, I can tell. Are you going to tell your mother?”
“No,” I said, and at that moment I was certain that I never would. It was something to do with my own mother and father; what Mimi told me they did. It was Mother’s face, sometimes, after I’d heard her and father argue behind their closed door; her red-rimmed eyes, a look as if something were missing, as if we were not enough for her, as if she already had some sorrow of her own.
And it was remembering Bee-Bee’s face, above us, when he’d been leaning into the door while Mimi and I were lying on the floor. The knowledge that he’d been in the room with us for a long time and we hadn’t known. That was worse than being tied up. All of this together, I knew I would not be able to describe or explain.
When we reached the end of the street and headed up rue Principale, we slowed to a walk. The sun had begun to set and the nine o’clock curfew would soon sound from the Catholic school. We looked back in the direction of the river. We were still rubbing at our wrists, at the faint streaks of red that had been left by the rope.
“My mother says, ‘Smile if it kills you,’“ I said, and we both forced a terrible smile.
“Maybe the woman in the rapids was giving a warning, after all,” said Mimi. “A warning about le beau-père, the stepfather. We’ll never get a bathroom now, if everyone’s mad.”
Just then we paused and tilted our heads. Flocks of purple martins preparing to settle for the night had begun to swing over us like dark nets in the sky. In the distance, they rose and fell and rose again. And then, we watched their sudden singular descent as they vanished remarkably and all at once into the clump of trees beyond our
“Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God, what’s going on? Dah’ling!” she called, at the top of her lungs, “Dah’ling! Come quick.” She ran out of the room and we heard her pounding on a wall. A door opened from the back part of the house and Henri limped along the hallway and stood looking down at us.
It took the two of them ten minutes to cut the rope, to untie us knot by knot, and they were furious. When my limbs were free I found I couldn’t stand. I had to rub at my legs and arms and wait until the blood started moving again. Mimi was hiccuping; her whole body was shaking and she couldn’t make it stop.
“That fool,” said Henri. “He has his nerve touching you like this.” He and the Bride exchanged looks.
By this time, Pierrette had come in and they told her what had happened. She led us both downstairs and said, “Where the hell is he? I knew he was a creep the way he looked at me the first time our mother brought him home. And ever since,” she added.
She softened when she talked to us and she asked us what he had done.
“He gagged us and tied us up,” said Mimi. “He said it was just for fun. We were playing hide-and-seek and he told us the other kids had gone home. He was supposed to come back and untie us but he didn’t come back.” She did not say that Bee-Bee had stayed in the room.
“He didn’t do anything else?”
“No.”
“Go on up to the store,” she said. “Tell the Bull I said to give you a melorol. Tell him I’ll be there later. Hurry up,before it’s dark. Trude can go home from the store. Mimi, you wait there with Ferdinand until I come.” She put an arm around each of us. “You’re okay,” she said. “You’re not hurt.” She looked at Henri and the Bride over our heads and added, “I’m staying right here until I find the S-O-B.”
Mimi and I went to the stoop and ran down the steps and out of the yard. We didn’t want to bump into Bee-Bee.
“Bee-Bee’s in trouble,” she said. “Because it wasn’t like playing. Pierrette’s going to tell our mother, I can tell. Are you going to tell your mother?”
“No,” I said, and at that moment I was certain that I never would. It was something to do with my own mother and father; what Mimi told me they did. It was Mother’s face, sometimes, after I’d heard her and father argue behind their closed door; her red-rimmed eyes, a look as if something were missing, as if we were not enough for her, as if she already had some sorrow of her own.
And it was remembering Bee-Bee’s face, above us, when he’d been leaning into the door while Mimi and I were lying on the floor. The knowledge that he’d been in the room with us for a long time and we hadn’t known. That was worse than being tied up. All of this together, I knew I would not be able to describe or explain.
When we reached the end of the street and headed up rue Principale, we slowed to a walk. The sun had begun to set and the nine o’clock curfew would soon sound from the Catholic school. We looked back in the direction of the river. We were still rubbing at our wrists, at the faint streaks of red that had been left by the rope.
“My mother says, ‘Smile if it kills you,’“ I said, and we both forced a terrible smile.
“Maybe the woman in the rapids was giving a warning, after all,” said Mimi. “A warning about le beau-père, the stepfather. We’ll never get a bathroom now, if everyone’s mad.”
Just then we paused and tilted our heads. Flocks of purple martins preparing to settle for the night had begun to swing over us like dark nets in the sky. In the distance, they rose and fell and rose again. And then, we watched their sudden singular descent as they vanished remarkably and all at once into the clump of trees beyond our
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