19
The moment the girl leaned over and vomited on the floor, Kate thought, I can get the gun! I can knock it away and grab it!
The girl held her stomach with her left hand and kept the gun pointed across her chest with her right.
Snatch it!
Kate saw herself shoving at the gun with the palm of her hand, and letting go of the steering wheel to take hold of it as it hovered for a second, pointing at the radio. She saw the gun in her own hand, turning around to aim at the girl then forcing her out of the car.
Good-bye! Run, girl, run!
The jagged pain in her head made the world wobble; the smell of fresh vomit made her stomach turn and constrict.
God help me!
Kate shoved at the gun. The girl sat up abruptly, face spattered in puke, and grabbed the handle with both hands, swinging it back around and shoving the barrel against Kate’s cheekbone.
“Don’t hit me again!” Kate cried. “Please!” Her molar, loosened from the first blow, creaked in the socket and flared hot in her head.
“Get the hell off this road, bitch!”
There were no roads on which to turn, just another stretch of pine. Kate looked at the girl and then the road, afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid of more pain. No more pain, please!
“There! Go through the trees!”
Kate steered to the graveled shoulder, then down a slight embankment and up again. She had read that if a kidnapper gets you in the car you are in serious trouble. If the kidnapper gets you into a private place, you are as good as dead. The guy on Oprah had said that. He knew the statistics. He had been a police officer. He’d seen dead women in the woods.
Kate’s jaw chattered furiously. Her calves twitched.
“Get in there!”
Kate glanced at her door. If she popped the handle and rolled out she could run. The girl would have to get out her side and run around the car.
But she had the gun. She said she would kill her.
The guy on Oprah said if you run in a back-and-forth pattern you are less likely to be shot and killed, just maybe shot and wounded.
But the girl had the gun.
Kate’s legs were so weak she could barely press the gas. She steered the Volvo through the rash of pine trees. Branches scraped the sides as if trying to open the doors themselves. The underside of the car thwapped over ruts and downed limbs. The world grew darker as the trees grew denser and taller.
Let her have the car, that’s it, just give her the car!
But Mistie’s in the back seat. What would she do to Mistie?
Oh my God this is wrong this is not what is supposed to happen. I was doing the right thing for the first time in years and what are You doing to me, God?
A sharp, pointed branch drove itself into the front windshield, cracking it like a hammer. Kate stifled a cry. She yanked the wheel to the left and the branch gouged the passenger’s side window with a banshee’s wail.
“Stop here!” said the girl.
Kate let up on the gas. The car rolled a few more feet and then settled at a tilt in a soft patch of humus. A startled pair of cardinals took to the air in a blur of red. Kate touched her molar with her tongue. It wobbled. It tasted raw and bitter.
Slowly, Kate unlocked her fingers from around the steering wheel. She was a teacher, damn it all. This was a child to her right. A child. A little girl who was likely as scared as Kate was. This was not out of control, not yet. There was time now to set this right.
I’m a teacher. I can do this.
Kate took a breath, and turned to the girl. She said, “I know you are frightened. We both are. We’ve gotten into a situation that seems pretty terrible right now, but it’s not too late to start over and set things straight.”
The girl tipped her head and a strange smile spread across her crusted lips. Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
Yes. She’ll understand, thought Kate. Keep talking. You’re good at that. Thank God Mistie is obedient. The girl will never know she was there.
“I would be happy to drive you wherever you want to go,” said Kate. “I have no reason to say anything about this little…fiasco…to anyone. I’m just glad we are both all right. We’ve both had a fright. People do silly things when they are scared. Women do. Little girls do. It happens.”
The girl ran her free hand across her mouth, scratching off the drying puke. She wiped it from her fingers onto the dashboard.
“Did you say little girls?” she said.
“I suppose I should say young woman. You’re not a little girl, are you?”
The girl put her foot up on the dashboard in the dry puke. Her shoe was an old man’s leather shoe. She spit on it, and rubbed what looked like blood from the toe with the heel of her hand, then she licked the hand.
“I’m a teacher,” Kate pressed. “A teacher and a mother. I want you to know I hold no ill-will toward you. I know young people. I know some times they do things they later wished they hadn’t. Well, everyone does that, in fact. Things they wish they hadn’t. Things they wish they could go back and do over. I don’t hold grudges. Let’s put this all behind us. Where can I drive you?”
“You’re a teacher? Teach where?”
“Pippins Elementary.”
The girl stared for a moment. Then she nodded, her head bobbing up and down on her neck like a felt-covered toy dog in the rear of a jacked-up automobile. The movement was chilling. She said, “Hey, teacher, show me your woolly.”
Kate said, “Show you what?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re a teacher at Pippins and you don’t know kids’ rhymes?”
“Kids rhymes?”
“You know ‘Little Bo Peep?’”
“Yes. Of course.”
“You know ‘Old McDonald?’”
“Yes.”
“Say it. Say ‘Old McDonald.’”
Kate swallowed dry air. “Well. Okay. ‘Old McDonald had a farm, ee-yi-ee-yi-oh. We’re really wasting time….”
The girl jabbed the gun into Kate’s neck.
“On that farm he had a cow, ee-yi-ee-yi-oh.”
“Say the ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’”
“Mary had a little lamb his fleece was white as snow, and everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go.”
“Yeah. Now say the ‘Aunt Molly.’”
A fresh lance of pain shot through Kate’s jaw to her eyes. Her molar pounding as if trying to drive itself up by the roots. Tears sprang, but she blinked them back. Play the little game with this girl and then it’ll be done with. Play cool and she would let Kate go. Of course she would let Kate go.
“I don’t know the ‘Aunt Molly,’” she said honestly.
“I bet,” said the girl. She put her hand on Kate’s knee, and pushed the skirt and coat hem up to Kate’s thigh.
“Think real hard.” Chills of fear sprang up under the fine nylon of her pantyhose.
Kate slid her leg out from under the girl’s touch, but the girl grabbed Kate’s knee and pulled it back. Cold air rushed up between her legs. “Think real hard,” the girl repeated. “Come on. ‘Went downtown to see Aunt Molly….. Say it. You know it.”
“I don’t. I…I’ve never heard it before.”
“We used to say it over at the Elementary School on the playground. Weren’t you listening?”
“I…no.”
“‘Went downtown to see Aunt Molly, paid two cents to see her woolly. Hair so black I couldn’t see the crack. Made her give me my two cents back.’ Use to sing it to make the girls mad, me and Whitey and Buddy.”
“Listen,” said Kate. “Let’s be reasonable. Let’s….”
“Reasonable? You said I was a little girl. Little girls ain’t reasonable, are they?”
“You’re a young lady. I misspoke.”
“You don’t know what I am. But I want to see what you are. Show me your woolly.”
“Wait,” Kate lifted her left hand carefully. “First promise me you’ll put the gun away. You’ll get out of the car like this never happened and walk off. You won’t look back, you’ll….”
“I don’t have to promise you shit,” said the girl. “Pull down your fucking underpants.”
Kate reached for the hem of her skirt, which was already to her hip. She took hold to hike it to her waist. She couldn’t.
“I can’t.”
The girl pulled a knife from her ankle and flicked it open against the steering wheel. It snapped into place with a little click. The blade spit dull sparks in the gray light of the pine woods outside.
“No no no no, please,” said Kate. “Wait…!”
The girl knocked Kate’s legs farther apart with her fist and thrust the knife to the crotch of her panty hose. Kate could feel the very tip on her mound.
No no no no no! Kate slammed herself back against the seat, her knees instinctively coming together, but then a flash of sharp heat on her left inner thigh caused her to open them again.
“I’ll cut you again, you mother-fucking shit, just try me,” said the girl. “You got couple holes now, I’ll give you a couple more.”
Kate, sobbing now, “Please, don’t, wait, okay, wait!” Her heels dug into the floor mat but there was nowhere to go. “Stop this. You don’t need to do this!”
The girl slit open the panty hose at the center then across the tops of both legs. She sliced the navy blue cotton briefs free at both hips and, with the blade, peeled them away. Kate felt the cold air on her exposed flesh and hair.
“Fuckin’ what I thought,” said the girl. “You’re just another cunt!”
Kate closed her eyes. This will be over soon. This will. It can’t go on much longer.
“Close your legs,” said the girl. “You smell like a whore!”
Kate closed her legs. She could feel the blood from the nicked thigh, like a warm oil, smearing the other. “All right,” she said through bile and salt. “You saw what you wanted to see. Now, let me go. There is nothing I can do for you.”
“You gonna drive me.”
“Yes, I said I’d be happy to drop you off somewhere. Just tell me where you live or where you want to go.”
“Not drop off. You drop me off you’ll just tell on me like you did that time.”
What time? What time?
The girl picked a Tootsie Roll from the floor, wiped the vomit off on Kate’s shoulder, and tore the wrapper off with her teeth. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. The dark wax stripes on her face were smudged. Drops of sweat dotted the line of her dark eyebrows. The gray eyes steady on Kate, the thoughts behind them indecipherable.
Try again. I can do this.
“Where do you need me to drive you, what is your name, I’m sorry, did you tell me your name?”
“Didn’t tell you.” Chewing, slowly.
“Where do you want me to drive you?”
“Texas.”
“You don’t mean the state of Texas.”
Quietly this time, as if confident in her complete control of the situation, tapping the side of the gun with her pinky as it moved in a slow wave up and down along Kate’s torso. “Don’t tell me what I don’t mean.”
“I have some cash. Enough, I think, to buy a bus ticket to Texas. There’s a station in Emporia. I could get you to Emporia. Do you have relatives in Texas?”
“Do teachers ever shut their fat lips?”
Kate rolled her lips in between her teeth.
“Texas, and you’re driving me. But first you’re cleaning up this vomit shit. Mothers like to clean, don’t they? See ‘em on television all the time, happy to be cleaning vomit, happy to be cleaning toilets, happy to be cleaning their babies’ smelly butts.”
The girl glanced over the back at the quilt. “Wipe it up with that.”
“No, I may have some Wipe-Its in the glove box if you’ll just look….”
The girl said, “Fuck that,” and pulled up the quilt.
The girl looked at Mistie. She looked at Kate and shook her head. The gun imitated the head, shaking slowly.
Tsk tsk tsk.
She said, “Well, now, what the fuck you got hiding here, little Miss Teacher?”