The light faded from her mother’s eyes, and she extricated her hands from Becky Lynn’s. “Your scalp’ll be raw if I brush anymore. Go on now, I know you had plans.”
Becky Lynn shook her head. “But, Mama, I don’t understand. Why won’t you come? Why—”
“Go on, baby,” she said again, turning her back to Becky Lynn. “Your mama has things to do.”
Glenna Lee started for the doorway, stopping when she reached it. She looked over her shoulder at her daughter. Becky Lynn saw resignation in her eyes. “I’ll be here when you get back, Becky Lynn. I’ll always be here.”
Her mother’s words stuck with Becky Lynn during her hike to the river. She held them close to her heart; she replayed them like a mantra in her head. You’re smart, Becky Lynn… You could make something of yourself… I’ve always known you were special.
Her mother believed in her. She’d never voiced that belief before, nobody had. Not ever. Until today. Becky Lynn tipped her face up to the cloudless blue sky and smiled. It felt wonderful. Magical, even. She never would have guessed how something so small could make her feel so big.
The river in sight now, she cut across Miller’s Lane, heading for the shade on the other side. In the short time she’d been with her mother, the sun had crawled considerably higher in the sky, the temperature seeming to have doubled with it. Even the birds had quieted, as if saving their energy for later in the afternoon, when the sun dipped once more.
Becky Lynn stopped and wiped her forehead, longing for the Coke tucked inside her knapsack. It seemed impossible that September was only a matter of a few weeks away; it felt as if the heat would never break. But that’s the way summers were in the delta, hot, humid and as long as forever.
By the time she reached the river, her T-shirt was soaked and her hair clung uncomfortably to the back of her neck. She selected a shady spot under a big, old oak tree, sank to the ground and dug her soft drink out of her bag.
She popped the top and took a long swallow. The sweet, fizzy drink tickled her throat and nose, and she took another long swallow before easing her head against the tree and closing her eyes. Becky Lynn held the cool can to her forehead, smiling to herself, thinking again of her mother’s words…and of the day she would leave Bend behind forever.
Her smile faded. But leaving Bend meant leaving her mother. Glenna Lee wouldn’t go. She’d made it clear that she felt some sort of responsibility to stay. Some sort of responsibility to her husband.
Why? Becky Lynn drew her eyebrows together. Did she love him? Is that why she stayed? If so, how could she? How could she feel anything but fury and hatred when she looked at him?
What was between her mother and father that she didn’t know about?
Maybe nothing. Becky Lynn frowned and took another swallow of her drink. She didn’t like to think that, didn’t like to think that her mother stayed with her husband because she didn’t have the guts to leave him, or because she was resigned to her fate.
A twig snapped behind her, and Becky Lynn twisted to look over her shoulder. Her heart stopped, then started again with a vengeance. Coming from the direction of the road was her brother and his gang.
“Well, looky, looky, Randy,” Tommy called out. “It’s your little sister.”
At the boy’s mocking words, she scrambled up, collecting her knapsack and soft drink. She’d hiked forty minutes to get to this spot; she’d claimed it first. And now, right or wrong, fair or not, none of that mattered. All she cared about was getting as far away from these boys as fast as possible.
“Where ya going, Becky Lynn?” Ricky drawled, planting himself in front of her. “You’re going to make us think you don’t like us.”
“Yeah,” said Tommy, moving to Ricky’s right. “You’ll hurt our feelings.”
“I’m going home now,” she said as calmly as she could around her thundering heart. “Excuse me.” She made a move to step past Tommy; he blocked it.
“Excuse you?” Ricky taunted. “I don’t think so.” He angled a glance at Tommy. “What do you think, Tommy?”
“Nah.” The boy grinned, and a shudder moved up Becky Lynn’s spine. “I don’t think so, either.”
She tried again, this time moving to her left. Ricky blocked her. Tears pricked her eyes, and she fought against them. It wouldn’t do for them to know how helpless and vulnerable she felt. Taking a deep breath, she inched her chin up. “Let me pass.”
“Where are our manners? You didn’t say the ‘P’ word, Becky Lynn.” That brought fresh snickers from the boys.
Fear soured on her tongue. She swallowed. “Let me pass…please.”
“Well…since you asked so nice.” Ricky smiled thinly and stepped aside.
Relief, dizzying in its sweetness, spiraled through her. She started past him, but didn’t get three steps before he grabbed her arm, stopping her. Relief evaporated, replaced by a fluttering panic. She should have known they wouldn’t let her go before they’d had a chance to really humiliate her.
“Don’t you touch me, Ricky Jones,” she said, jerking her arm from his grasp.
The boys made a collective sound of amusement. Ricky took another step closer. Behind her, Tommy blocked a retreat. “She said that just like a queen, didn’t she, boys?”
“Yeah,” Tommy chirped in. “A queen bitch.”
Becky Lynn dared a glance at Randy. He slid his gaze away, his expression twisted into a resigned grimace. He wasn’t going to help her, she realized, the panic clutching at her. She was on her own. Always on her own.
Screwing up her courage, she forced herself to take one step, then another. When she took the third, Ricky grabbed her bottom and squeezed, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her right cheek. Her control snapped. She took physical abuse from her father; she had all her life. She wasn’t about to take it from this spoiled boy. She swung around and slapped his hand as hard as she could. “I told you not to touch me, Ricky Jones!”
For one moment, electric with tension, the boys were quiet. A cloud moved over the sun; the breeze stilled. Somewhere above them a bird screamed. Then fury lit Ricky’s eyes. And hatred. She recognized both from years of seeing them in her father’s.
She’d made a mistake. A big one. Her breath caught as real fear moved through her. The kind of fear that stole one’s breath and free will. She ordered herself to run; her feet wouldn’t move. Instead, she stared at Ricky Jones in dawning horror. He meant to hurt her.
A cry in her throat, she ran. She didn’t get ten feet before Ricky caught her and dragged her back. Her Coke slipped from her fingers and hit the ground, the carbonated beverage foaming from the can’s small mouth. She squeaked in fear as she fought to free herself.
He shoved her up against the tree, which only minutes ago had offered her such sweet shelter from the sun. The bark bit into her back, and she smelled beer on his breath. Her stomach rolled, and she made a sound of revulsion and fear.
“Come on, guys,”
