Silent Admirer by Claire Stibbe

Author:Claire Stibbe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookpreneur
Published: 2019-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-TWO

Walking, walking, walking. What time was it?

Sunup, he said. That’s what.

Where were they going anyway?

He kept showing her his hand and telling her not to bite him again. She’d drawn blood and now he was whining about a tetanus shot.

“You’re a ladeeee. And ladeeees don’t bite!”

Well, this one does, she thought, running her tongue over the back of her teeth, which were crammed with blueberries from the muffins.

There was silence for a while as they chomped on bread. It felt good to eat.

She looked down at her shoes as they walked. Her matchstick legs stuck out below the turn-ups of her jeans. Dad always said there was too much light between them, and that they reminded him of Gru in Despicable Me.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, catching the downward tilt of her head.

“Nothing.”

She could tell he wanted to know what nothing was and felt the grip on her arm tightening. There would be bruises if he didn’t stop it. Then he’d be sorry.

His voice changed like he was trying to be polite. Said she was a Spartan which she guessed meant tough, like the soldiers in ancient Greece.

He said his name was Lee. She wondered how you spelled it because there was a L-E-I-G-H at school. Only that was a girl.

He kept saying her mom was waiting at the camp site and he kept pulling her along the trail, sometimes telling her which way and sometimes quiet like he didn’t care.

He’d help her over boulders and creeks, and there were times when he kept sighing. Especially when she asked about her mom.

“You ask too many damn questions.” He stopped to catch his breath. “Stop talking and just walk, OK?”

“I saw the blood. I heard―”

“You’ve got a wild imagination, girl. She fell and hit her head. End of.”

She felt the sob in her throat, tried to keep it down. “You were yelling at her. Don’t tell me you weren’t.”

“I was yelling at the dogs... coyote, whatever the heck it was. Why do we have to talk about her?” he said, sighing again.

She wondered if she’d got it all wrong. If what she saw was just a dream. But she felt all sorry and sick and wanted to run back the way they’d come. There’d be an opportunity soon enough.

“She’s up there.” He pointed again to the crags.

Something didn’t seem right about the up here, down there thing. If Mom was lying in a rug, how could she be up there and walking like nothing was wrong?

“Do you have a phone?” she asked.

“What’s a phone got to do with anything?”

“I want to call my dad. Mom’s hurt. He should know.”

“What are you after? A full-blown doctor’s report? Heck should I know?”

“We shouldn’t have left her on her own.”

“And you care why exactly? She wasn’t nice to you. How come she always called you little girl? It’s not like you don’t have a name?”

It was a good question, only she didn’t know how to answer it. Her mom had a way of talking that even she found unnerving.

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