Eww and ick.
He was so engrossed that he didn’t hear me behind him. I picked up a fallen tree branch about the size of a baseball bat. It felt heavy in my hands, and the bark scraped against my fingers. With visions of his hands on the little girl running through my mind, I swung the limb as hard as I could. It cracked against the back of the man’s balding head.
I had no emotion as I watched him crumple to the ground. I stood over him, images of him with the girl mingled with images of him with other children. As I watched his blood trickle through the grass, I realized what I’d done. My hands started to tremble, and the branch slipped from my fingers and landed on top of him. My heartbeat was frenzied in my chest, and I turned and ran from his scrawny body.
Thoughts scrolled through my mind at triple speed. What caused the unstoppable desire to save the kid? I would’ve never let him touch her. But normally, I’d tell her mother that she’d wandered too far or call the police and alert them to the possibility of a child predator roaming the park. I never would have stepped in myself, but I wasn’t able to stop. Drawn to the girl, to her safety, I couldn’t walk away.
I went back to gather my things at the edge of the pool, looking over my shoulder to check on the girl. Her red curls bounced as she swung in the sunlight. Her mother was still unaware of where she was or how close she’d come to losing her childhood innocence.
Before climbing into my beat-up Chevy, I stopped at a pay phone near the restrooms, shaking my head with a smile.
I can’t believe I found one. Everyone uses cell phones. I thought these things were only in museums. It’s gotta be older than me.
Using my wet towel, I picked up the receiver, dialed 911, and reported the man—and I used the term man very, very loosely.
“You’ll find a man unconscious just inside the trees. Hurry before he hurts another child.”
“What’s your name?” the nasally dispatcher asked.
I dropped the receiver, letting the cord hang limp, and walked away.
Let them trace the call. There’s nothing pointing to me. I don’t want anyone finding out I was here. What do I say? I had a funny feeling and… what? I had a vision of him doing stuff with kids so I bashed his head in? Yeah, right. No, they just need a valid trace so they can get here and catch the pervert before he wakes up.
As I drove away, I was struck by two things. First, what drew me to the girl? My eyes weren’t drawn to any other. In fact, I couldn’t remember the face of any other kid at the pool. My eyes wanted only her… searched her out. I knew I needed to watch her, knew that something was wrong.
And second, how did I know?
Eight weeks, one day until my eighteenth birthday.
“What’d you do yesterday? I called you.” Muriel twirled her pen in circles on the dirty Formica table.
“Nothing exciting. Just laps at the pool,” I lied. I hadn’t stopped thinking about what happened at the park. I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around how I knew the man was going to hurt that girl.
She slapped her hand on the pen to stop it and looked at me. A perfect, jet-black eyebrow arched over her almond-shaped eye. “Gee, ever think of asking your best friend and swim teammate to go along?”
I cringed. “Sorry, it was a last-minute decision.”
She pointed at me. “Don’t let it happen again,” she said through clenched teeth. Her black, stick-straight hair fell over her shoulder. I burst out laughing. She dropped her finger and shoved my shoulder, laughing with me.
Our calculus teacher marched into class like one of the British Royal Army’s soldiers in a parade with those red uniforms and the knee-high marching steps—arms full of books and files.
I wonder what Muriel would’ve thought about the guy in the trees—what she would’ve done.
Halfway through class, Muriel texted me. I reached for my cell phone and looked to make sure the teacher wasn’t watching before I read the message. That was when I saw him.
His body angled in his seat, and his head turned slightly toward me. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, like he’d started to smile but decided against it just before it materialized.
I’d noticed him before—it was hard not to. Talk about easy on the eyes. We had English together. I knew him, but we didn’t travel in the same circles. In fact, as far as I could tell, he didn’t travel in any particular circle. He kept to himself and seemed to prefer it that way.
I looked away quickly, feeling my cheeks warm.
Great, I’m blushing. Nice look. Red cheeks and red, curly hair—just like Bozo the Clown. Homecoming queen material. No need to vote; I’ll just take my crown. Yeah, sure.
When my eyes darted back in his direction, he’d turned and faced forward. I felt a small pang of disappointment. Looking down, I read Muriel’s text.
Muriel: Go to the mall after school?
Me: Sure.
Muriel: I’ll drive.
Me: K.
Muriel: What was that look?
Me: What look?
Muriel: Between you and the hottie.