Chapter 11 #2
“Dad paid,” I heard him say, and I saw his lips move rather than hear the words.
“Unfortunately, Nathan is in the area. We think he’s with Rayk, Kjertan, and Ian, at least Alvin and Maury thought they saw a group of men far from here, but not unreachably far away.
” He remained silent while I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart.
Nathan was here? Somewhere nearby? And Ian?
Kjertan and Rayk? Had Rayk changed sides?
I hadn’t expected to be able to cry, but I’d thought that many times in this hell.
You cry quite often, I think .
Nathan. For a moment, I saw his curved lips in front of me, which he always pressed together when he was angry.
I heard him gently telling a story to Sparta and felt his tender fingers on my sore skin.
All this time, I had banished every thought of him since the memory of the beautiful would have tormented me even more; now, however, all the wonderful things of this precious first love flowed into me even more strongly.
For a few seconds, I even thought I was in the Palace of Shards becoming part of the light and shadow magic.
An eternally flitting, trembling light in the wind.
“It’s time even if we haven’t completed the seven hundred and twelve.
We will leave this place, but you will remain here.
” Isaac didn’t take his eyes off me and my heart suddenly pumped twice as much blood through my veins.
“You will die here because I will personally drown you in the Atchafalaya. Our father will never know where to look for you, but maybe one day, I will tell him. I will probably send him a few pictures or videos that I took of you on some nights…so that I always carry with me a sweet memory of this time. How you wriggled in the ropes like in a net. I’ll look at them one autumn evening when I’m drinking something better than moonshine and paying a hundred whores with our father’s money.
Maybe in a clean village in Canada or maybe here in the South in the dilapidated shack where you once played with Nathan. Maybe I’ll buy it and fix it up.”
Indignation, despair, hopelessness. Some of that must have been reflected in my eyes because Isaac laughed and put the bottle of cheap booze that he so often carried around with him on the table.
Bottle, good weapon , I heard Kjertan say, but I couldn’t place the memory. Besides, the moonshine was much too far away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac undress one last time. One last time before he killed me. He took his time. First, the shirt, then the clinking belt and pants.
He took a handful of nuts from the packet that was always on the table and ate them with relish before taking another handful.
This time, I cried the whole time. This time, I thought of everyone I loved and had loved.
Mom, Dad, but especially Nathan. I tried to remember them as my body rubbed helplessly across the floor and the welts from the belt blows tore and burned.
A little strange, easy to control , I heard Dad say.
But always good . We’ll get through it, Willa Mouse.
Be brave, my child. My everything, my day and my night, my star in heaven and my earth. I love you and that will never stop .
Just before he was ready, Isaac stopped and pressed his hand to my forehead to hold me in place.
I knew what was coming and pressed my lips together tightly.
I wanted to throw my head back and forth, but his steely grip made it impossible.
My body reared up in blind panic and I kicked and thrashed with a strength I no longer believed possible.
It was no use. He held my nose and I had to gasp for air. I wanted to scream and beg for my life, but he pushed his tongue between my lips.
My heart stopped. I tasted peanuts and smelled his scent. He kissed me deeply, as deeply as Nathan even though it wasn’t a real kiss. My stomach clenched in disgust, in fear. I didn’t notice much. It was too late and I let it happen as he came inside me one last time.
When he was finished, he stood and looked at me, pulling on his pants. “It was a pleasure, little lady…sweet sister.”
I had to cough. I felt my mucous membranes swell, my nose close up, and my throat tighten.
Panic burst through my senses. I had forgotten how bad it had been back then.
I gasped for air so hard that Isaac seemed frightened for a few seconds, but then he laughed, a strange sound as if he was both sorry and relieved.
To this day, that sound echoes in my mind some nights—like so many things.
Have you ever seen someone die, Willa Nevaeh Rae?
Fearful and weakened by the countless injuries, I lay there waiting for my consciousness to cloud and my cardiovascular system to fail.
It was a matter of God’s grace whether I suffocated immediately or passed out and didn’t notice.
I closed my eyes and life flickered out of me.
Pictures. Maybe I would see images. The Voyageur II and the day after I betrayed Mom. The final truth.
My head, however, remained empty. And for some reason, I could breathe better again.
For a moment, the blue pills flashed through my mind.
I thought of the little bird that could no longer fly because its owner had fed it gold beads.
Because he loved it too much. I thought about how Dad loved me too much, so much so that he had denied and betrayed his other child terribly, and I thought about how my allergy had made me fearful and dependent and isolated me from the world.
I breathed in and out a few times and was surprised that my throat didn’t swell any further.
My nose was clear again too. Had those first reactions come from pure panic?
I blinked and saw the clear bottle of moonshine while the suspicion inside me became an ever sharper truth.
I didn’t have an allergy at all. Dad had lied.
This realization didn’t even hurt. Not at that moment. Isaac had fastened his belt and it must have been the miracle of a whole host of archangels that I managed to get to my feet.
Isaac looked at me and I looked at him. I gasped loudly.
He certainly thought I was going to die, but it was from the pain of a hundred blows, a hundred bruises and contusions.
I swayed and staggered to the table…pretending to have to support myself and unable to breathe.
I gasped for breath in a feigned frenzy.
He pulled his mouth up in victory and stooped to pick up his shirt from the floor.
I grabbed the bottle in a flash and swung it over my head.
These weeks had left me little strength, but I struck with the hatred and disgust he had planted in me.
There was an ugly, dull sound, and Isaac fell to his knees and finally tipped over to the side.
Blood flowed from his artfully tousled hair onto the old wood.
I stood frozen for a few breaths, feeling the pressure of my heartbeats in my temples. My eardrums were pounding. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if his soldiers were standing outside the door or not.
Isaac stirred, twisting like a snake and groaning, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Without thinking, I ripped open the door and found the hallway empty.
Isaac’s soldiers were gone. Oh God! New tears streamed down my face.
Out of relief and new fear. They would shoot me or beat me to death if they caught me.
Clutching the bottle, I staggered onward, held up by only adrenaline and the last of my will to live.
Where were they? There were more doors up here.
I could have hidden in a room, but there might be a few men sitting there together.
And, at any second, Isaac could get up and rush after me since I had no idea how hard I had hit him.
I staggered clumsily to the stairs, trying to hold the bottle over my head, but I couldn’t raise my arm.
Only now did I feel a terrible pain there as if my bones had shattered into a thousand pieces.
I took the stairs, supporting myself on the handrail, hardly able to breathe.
A strange dizziness jumbled my vision. Everything shifted into the next, steps, walls, wood.
I want to get out of here! There was only this thought as if as soon as I left this house behind me, I would leave everything else behind too.
I arrived on the ground floor wearing only the stinking, dirty dark green t-shirt that Isaac hadn’t taken off me this time either.
Red and black dots pulsed in front of my eyes like flares.
My legs were shaking uncontrollably as if I had been climbing mountain ridges for weeks, however, adrenaline rushed through my veins, whispering and driving me: Run, run, run!
It was so terribly quiet. The front door was open and I suddenly felt the draft on my burning skin. It was mild, a Louisiana winter wind, but it seemed as liberating as ice. In my confused state, it danced wildly over my wounds like a million snowflakes.
Before I put my feet over the threshold, I heard the floorboards creak above me. Dragging, heavy steps. These sounds almost brought me to my knees.
With the last of my strength, I stumbled forward onto the veranda that is so typical of bayou houses.
In front of me, a narrow piece of meadow shimmered, and behind it, the swamp forest with bare trees and green water.
Instinctively, I glanced left and right, and when I spotted Taurus, Mykonos, and Maury on the porch, I almost fell over.
I looked at Taurus. My expression must have been a horrified, silent plea. Let me run, please, please, let me run!