Pursuit Of The Cygnus Thief

Chapter 13 - Fallen

Chapter 13

“Fallen” By Roseyone

      I felt like shit, then I inhaled the outrageously supreme aroma of fried steak just downwind of my house and my gut roared. Sure, hunger trumped exhaustion, it put a little pep in my step, but I remained mindful, I needed to gauge the tone at home before I could enter. Caution would be key, I had figure out when to make a stand, where to fall back, a little ingenuity might even help mitigate the outcome once I’d faced my father. Cloaked within the freshly settled darkness and a chorus of chirping mormon crickets, I approached my father’s pick-up truck that was parked in the driveway near the double door garage. I slid my hand on the hood, as much to check how long ago my father had arrived as to steady the hungry tremble that shook me from within. The engine was warm. A low metallic click emitted from the grille. The flatbed had been unloaded. The acrid smell of burnt motor oil from the engine did nothing to dissuade my hunger. He’d been home for no more than forty-five minutes; ample time for Matilda to giddily pour gossip into my father’s ears. There could be no doubt that members of the crowd gathered in front of McKee’s hardware had called Matilda soon afterward, no doubt that Matilda had gleaned the information, inevitable exaggerations intact and spun her own noxious web. Enough time had elapsed for the truth to distort to the tenth power and beyond. My father would be furious. I would be done.

      One of the garage doors was slightly ajar and the light within was on. My father’s voice rose up from inside and made me shudder and smile at the same time. It’s a quarter mile oval track, all dirt. Here, have a beer, looks like you could sure use one. There was a manly sound that was more of a cough than a chuckle, I knew without looking that my father grinned, this was good news, he was relaxed. There was no other vehicle parked near our property, which meant that he was with one of our close neighbors. Then I recalled that it was still my birthday, that I was filthy with the day, the desert, the heat, my sweat, residue from Mr. Abel. I circled away from the garage past the side entrance of the house towards the rear. I paused below the kitchen window to listen for Matilda.

      I hate it. There, I’ve said it. Well, it’s the truth! Something will have to be done and quick too…there’s just no telling… Matilda was upset, excited, shrill, she was on the telephone, frying steaks in a skillet on the stove. Matilda’s conversation was dire but it was not about me. I edged out of the shadow, caught a glimpse of Matilda’s profile in the window above as she paced away from the stove cradling the phone receiver between the side of her face and shoulder.

      I crossed the yard, went through the garden, searched in the shadows near the shed where I’d started my day with Freddy. It wasn’t there. I plumbed the darkness, came up empty, tried once more until I had fully circled the shed. Freddy’s sleeping bag was gone. I took a couple of steps toward the property line, halted, went cold. Someone had watched us. Someone in the dark. He’d planted himself behind the nearest boulder. Smoked. Watched. Slim and Freddy’s other cousins were guilty of many things but not this. The possibility cold and electric staggered me, he could have returned, he could have been out there in that very moment just beyond the boulder.

You think your something now don’t you? There’s only one reason a man looks at a girl like you! One reason! It’s all in the gutter! You’ll get what you deserve soon enough you filthy thing.

      I hadn’t quite understood Matilda when she’d fired those words at me; I’d been fourteen and had just started my first period. Later, on Matilda’s word, nearly every woman in Assumption had come to impart similar predictions, harsh warnings, grim explanations, and instructions that only seemed to make matters worse. One reason! Mr. Abel. His cigarette. The interior of his car. His giant paw on my thigh, how and what he’d not been kidding about. Perfect monster. Pinks. Everybody sees you. I battled back the memories from the tavern, my eyes flooded and a bolt of pain ignited in my head. He had a lot of fucking nerve! And, whomever had watched us had a lot of fucking nerve too!