Chapter 2 #2
The ambulance barely fits down the old Millcreek dirt road, and it ambles along without sirens or any sense of real urgency. The EMT takes Eddie’s vitals and asks if he ever regained consciousness after the blow.
“His eyes were part-way open afterward, but since then, he’s been out cold,” Kat tells the young man. She explains her brother hit him and then took off with his friends. The EMTs take our names and raise an eyebrow at our shared address.
“You from around here, kid? Don’t recognize the name,” one of them says.
They’re not police, but the energy is the same. My outsider status is a threat to this rich white vacationers’ paradise and select year-round community of elites, and I’m a threat to the status quo.
“I’m originally from the Bronx, but Mr. Shaw is my guardian now,” I tell them.
They share a knowing glance that seems foreboding and reminds me I’ll never be one of them no matter how long I live here or which upstanding citizen adopts me.
Back at Wainscott Hollow, Mr. Shaw is waiting for us in the foyer when we finally pedal home.
Kat drops her things to the floor with one look at his expression, which spells imminent doom.
Henry has gotten to Shaw first, and the man has obviously bought his son’s story, which starred me as the villain if the look on his face is any indication.
“Dad, Heath helped Eddie. It was Henry who—”
Kat is cut off by her furious father. “Katelyn, go to your room. You’ll no longer be allowed to go out on excursions with Heath without Henry to chaperone!”
Kat cries out in frustration but obeys her father’s command.
I stand in the foyer before him and drop my things. I guess a beating was coming my way today, at the hands of the father or the son. It doesn’t make much difference to me.
Shaw removes his belt and tells me to take off my shirt.
My back is scarred from the last time, but what choice do I have to protest?
When in Rome—unless you want to catch the next city bus back to the South Bronx and try the streets for a few nights.
Find out exactly how much you’ll miss your king-sized bed with the sheets that cost more than some people’s rent.
Shaw gives it to me, and I clench my jaw to keep myself from crying out, from giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much it fucking hurts.
I nearly vomit when, out the corner of my eye, I catch Henry smirking from the den, taking it all in like a drive-in movie for the criminally insane.
His grin is devious and full of spite as he watches me take the beating that should be his.
Afterward, I crash on the bed on my stomach without taking off my filthy blood-stained clothes.
Falling into a state of fitful sleep, I dream of my mom and the long train rides we’d take to the beach in the summer.
Not white rolling sand like out here on the sound, but city beaches strewn with garbage and broken glass, foot-long hotdogs and funnel cakes, and rides on the Cyclone.
I dream of the freefall on that roller coaster and awake to the screams from the riders. Push up with a start, and I’m met with unbearable pain between my shoulders. I spot Kat sitting quietly on the edge of the bed.
“I was dreaming of roller coasters,” I tell her, rubbing my eyes. “I could hear them screaming.”
“Those screams are real,” Kat replies. Her face is drawn pale with fright. “The Lind’s called from the hospital when Eddie woke up. He told his parents who hit him and now Dad is punishing Henry.”
Her voice is weighted with fear. The men in this family are violent and enjoy using their fists to get others to do their bidding. No wonder all of the women disappear.
“Should I stop him?” I ask her as I rise.
“No,” Kat says plainly. “He deserves what he’s getting.”
I get out of bed and turn on the fan to drown out Henry’s screams. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
I run my hands through my hair and change out of my bloodied clothes into fresh jeans and a t-shirt. I don’t know why Kat’s in my room or what convinced her to come in here.
“What time is it?” I ask her. My phone has long gone dead.
She stands and checks hers. “Almost three o’clock in the morning. Where will you go?”
“The dunes” is what comes out. It’s where we both go when we need to escape.
“I’m coming with you.” Kat grabs one of my hoodies from my closet and wraps it around her shoulders. “Don’t leave me here with these demons.”
We run down the backstairs that lead to a door off the kitchen.
On the other side of the house, Henry is screaming as Mr. Shaw once again doles out punishment.
Violence for violence. No different from the code of the streets where I grew up.
But wrap it up nicely in money and power, and suddenly it becomes a code of honor rather than senseless carnage.
I take Kat’s hand, and we fly through the dark, down the hill covered in wild primrose toward the call of the ocean.
“He’s gonna fucking kill us whenever Dad’s finished with him,” she tells me. “Revenge is Henry’s favorite game.”
I don’t want to think about the future. I want to plunge into the ocean and forget everything else. Wrap my arms around Kat and remind myself there are good people in this world.
The moonlight is bright enough to lead the way and reflects off the water of the sound, bathing the world in a mysterious silver light.
We climb over the chilly dunes until we reach the beach and fling ourselves down onto the cold sand to catch our breath.
Out here, only the call of the Eastern screech owl and the low roar of the surf meet our ears.
The owl’s call sounds like a woman screaming, and I think about Kat’s mom and my mom meeting their early demise on this estate.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” I suggest, my voice choppy because I’m so out of breath.
“We’ll go to the Bronx. Hell, anywhere besides Wainscott Hollow.
We could go live in a shelter, and it would be better than this cursed island. ”
“I can’t go,” Kat says, her voice choked by sobs. “I can never leave here.”
I hold her in my arms while she shakes and cries until the crickets quiet and the sun begins to rise.