The Whispering of Trees by C.Y. Bourgeois

Author:C.Y. Bourgeois
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.Y. Bourgeois
Published: 2018-04-06T00:00:00+00:00

46.

Jackie’s face drained of color as air whooshed out of his lungs. He smacked a hand against his chest and, sucking in a big breath, yelled, “What the shit?” He leaped up from his seat. “I’ll kill him. I will fucking kill him.”

Sakari burst into tears and Bobby sat slack-jawed.

Conversations stopped, and all eyes turned to stare at the group in the corner.

Lella, having heard the shouts, came running. Several strands of bright green hair escaped the taming of her barrette to fly about in a wild chartreuse cloud through which stuck two purple antenna-pens. A bottle of ketchup bounced almost free of her pocket and hung askew as if attempting to escape the madness by leaping to its death. She held the box of Kleenex out in front of her like a shield as she raced across the room dodging in and out between tables surrounded by wide-eyed, forks-halfway-to-their-mouths, patrons. Four red-eyed, tear-stained faces turned to gaze upon the remarkable Lella Watson.

The hard façade of Aggie’s face crumbled and she giggled. Giggles morphed into contagious chuckles, and a minute later the four of them fell about in gales of frenzied laughter. They laughed so hard they couldn’t catch their breath and just when they started to gain control Aggie glanced at Lella again, staring at them, hands on hips, pen-antennae wiggling as she shook her green hair at the looney foursome. Her tenuous grip on the edge of calm slipped. Lella cackled and as she sat down, they all tumbled over the edge after Aggie, laughing until they cried.

Once the tears came, they wouldn’t stop.

Aggie wept for her broken heart and her lost childhood. She cried for her mother and father. She pounded her fist, furious at her mother for not being there, at her useless, stinking drunk of a father for not saving her, at Sam, and at herself for being so stupid.

If only I hadn’t left my room? If only I went to the bathroom for water. If only I hadn’t gone through the living room. If only Dad and Sam weren’t drunks. If only Mom hadn’t been so selfish, leaving me home all alone with them. If only Dad had heard my screams. If only. If only.

When the tears began to subside, Lella wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and said, “Tell me what’s going on.” She stood up and started pacing back and forth. Aggie’s soggy, bruised eyes followed her. The others started talking all at once. Lella held up a hand. “Stop. Everybody, please calm down and speak one at a time. Sakari,” she pointed, “what happened?”

“Um, uh, well,” Sakari stammered, “Uncle Sam – Sam –,” she started to cry again. “Um, he r-raped her,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Aggie.” She grabbed her friend’s hand.

“Shit.” Lella blanched. Her knees buckled, and Jackie caught her just before she hit the floor. He held her up and steered her to the bench seat. He held onto her limp, cold hand and took Aggie’s hand in his free one.

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